It went dark again, "There, now the light gone you lay back again and just rest your arms behind your neck, while we talk."

"I would still prefer it if I could close my legs."

"Be a good girl and don�t get me angry, you said you�d come to show me your fruit."

I lay back as instructed, the boys making sure I was wide open.

"They tell me you�re a church girl and a school teacher as well," he said.

"Yes, that right," I said.

"Well now we can have a little talk and you can tell me all about yourself," he said.

There was only a dim light bulb, on the wall behind me so I knew that he wouldn�t be able to see much (especially compared with what he had already seen). Just then the door swung open letting in a shaft of bright sunlight, which was almost blinding me, but illuminating my crotch to perfection. Although I couldn�t make out by sight who was stood in the doorway, I recognized the voice as one of the men from earlier in the yard.

"Your brother�s here, Di," he said.

"Well tell him to hurry up and come in, the sunlight is blinding little Margaret here," said Mr. Jones.

A second figure appeared in the doorway, and stood there long enough to get a good look at what I was now displaying, and then he came in shutting the door behind him.

"Hi Di, Hi boys, and is that Mrs. King I see sitting there," he said. With the sunlight now gone, I was back in shadow; the figure was lit by the dim bulb. As my eyes regained there focus I recognized the police sergeant that we had been reporting all our problems to, Mr. Joneses brother.

"It surely is, she�s come to offer her jam pot," said farmer Jones. "Well, as I�m here on official business Di, I would prefer it if Mrs. King could talk to me alone," said Sergeant Jones.

Farmer Jones grunted in disapproval, but he got up, and beckoned to the boys, "come on lads." Sergeant Jones sat down in the chair, the door opened, the shaft of sunlight returned, and they seemed to take for ever before the door was shut eventually again. The sergeant had had plenty of time, now sitting quite close to look at my display. "Now Mrs. King. Did you come up to see Di of your own accord, without anyone forcing you?"

"Yes, I came to try and make peace."

"What did you say to Di when you arrived?"

I now felt quite foolish, having to repeat the silly phrase.

"I quoted an old traditional phrase that the boys had taught me."

"How�s that go then?"

"Good day Mr. Jones, I�ve come to introduce myself my name is Margaret. I want to show you my jam pot; I�ll open it wide so you can sample my fruit."

"And were you sitting there like that when you said this to him?"

"No, I didn�t sit down until I was ready to quote a second phrase."

"Well before you tell me what you said next, what was Di�s reply to your first offer?"

"He said something like, I was very welcome, and would I sit in this milking chair in the traditional way and show them what I�d got to offer." "Right, and then you sat down like you are now, leaning back, legs spread wide open, jam pot on show, and said what?"

I know I was slow on the up take, but I started to realize that the jam pot was not the preserves. I couldn�t bring myself to repeat the words.

"Now Mrs. King this is an official inquiry, so I�ll repeat, what did you say next?"

"Well it was just what the boys told me to say."

"Please Mrs. Jones just tell me what answer you gave to Di when he asked you to show what you�d got to offer."

"I said, if you like what you see, don�t wait to be asked, just help yourself. You can share it with your friends there�s plenty for all."

"Right, I think I get the picture, your secret�s safe with me, I wont write this up in my notebook, I guess I�d better let Di come back in and give you a fucking. Looking at the number of flies round your cunt you must be well on heat," he said as he shone his powerful torch on my crotch.

"No," I exclaimed, "it�s not like that, I wasn�t offering to let them make love to me."

"Well if you come to the station tomorrow, reporting you�ve been raped, I�ll have to put it down in evidence, explaining what you were showing and what you offered to them."

He got up quickly and made for the door.

"No please. Can I go back with you now?"

Before I could get to my feet he�d opened the door, and as he was leaving, he shouted back, "Sorry love I can�t hear you with the noise of all these sheep."

As he disappeared, before I�d had chance to stand up Mr. Jones and his boys came back in, The boys rushed across to take hold of me persuading me to regain my seated position, one boy knelt either side of me and Mr. Jones sat on his chair.

Mr. Jones spoke, "Well now he�s gone, you can start to introduce yourself; I believe you sing in the choir."

I was taken aback, was this really just an innocent ritual?

"Yes" I replied, and thinking this was just innocent conversation, I moved my knees together to cover up my crotch.

"Bloody hell woman!" He bald, at the top of his voice, "is there no pleasing you. By rights I should have you in the back of the barn by now, with me and all the lads fucking you silly. Don�t you remember what you said you came up here for?"

His change in mood scared me, so I immediately let my legs fall apart again.

"I... I�m sorry, please don�t shout, lets just sit and talk, I�ll keep my legs where they are," I said timidly.

"And get those bloody hands by your side, else I�ll get the lads to spread you," he snapped.

I rapidly moved my hands, and one landed on Bryan�s legs, he grabbed it quickly, and slid it up his inside leg, until it reached a bulge in his trousers, he then held it tightly on his pulsing bulge. I did not look, or dare to struggle, I thought it best to let the atmosphere calm down.

"That�s better, but give me a bit more leg room, I�m getting cramp in my leg crunched up like this," there was still a sharp edge in his voice, reluctantly I slowly opened my knees, to give him room to move his legs.

His voice rang out loud and angry again, "You�re not really trying to be friendly, are you. I think it is about time the boys and I taught you a lesson."

"No, please tell me what I�ve done wrong, I didn�t mean to upset you," I was now reduced to tears.

"I asked you to give me more leg room, not shuffle your arse!"

I was now terrified, and I spread my legs wide apart, so wide that they were now resting on top of the legs of the boys who were kneeling alongside of me."

"That�s more like it," he said, his voice a lot calmer. "Now stop your crying, and let�s hear you answer some questions, so that we can all get to know you better. First question, do you believe in god?"

This took me by surprise, and I tried to calm myself, just managing to reply "Yes, passionately."

"Then do you believe everything that god make is for a purpose?"

"Yes, of course."

"Even that lump of meat that you�ve got in your hand?"

He was referring to Bryan�s prick, which I had not yet managed to get my hand away from.

"Well yes."

"Well what did god make that for, apart from it being something he can piss through?"

"God made that for when he gets married."

"And your pretty cunt, what�s that for?"

"God made that so we could raise children."

"Do you think he made a mistake with yours?"

"No. Why?"

"Well a dog only starts wetting up when she�s in season, about twice a year. Your cunt wets after just a few strokes. Only five minutes ago you were wetting, but I�ll bet if I started a little rub now, you�d be lifting in less than a minute."

"Why are you talking like this, you know it�s embarrassing me?" I bleated.

"That�s it woman, you�ve had all the chances your getting," he shouted angrily, as he rose to his feet. "Get her up and let�s have her in the slaughter house," he snapped at the boys.

He was furious, the boys grabbed me, arms under my legs, laid back, spread wide open, the way I had been carried across the yard, I struggled with all the strength that I could muster but they were just too strong, I screamed at the top of my voice, "please someone help me!"

To my relief as we were leaving the back of the shed to enter the barn, the door to the yard swung open and the three men from the yard came running in. What made me think they had come to help me, I don�t know. But it was obvious that they hadn�t.

The first one said, "oh good! We gonna lay her out in the slaughter house."

They laughed, and made crude comments as they made there way through the long barn. It was now certain that I was going to be gang raped. There was absolutely no way that I would be able to report this to the police, with Sergeant Jones having already heard my offer. I wasn�t sure exactly where they were taking me, but I knew that I had very little time left to change my fate.

I stopped struggling (not that they noticed), and called, "Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones, please stop and listen to me, I really do want to please you," my call fell on deaf ears,

"Please! Please! Please, let me do something to change your mind."

"Shut up you silly little bitch" said one of the men, "Mr. Jones doesn�t want to hear your stupid bleating, your gonna please all of us, we�ll fuck you real good."

I think it was that man trying to speak for Mr. Jones that saved the day.

Mr. Jones snapped, "What do you know about what Mr. Jones wants or doesn�t want, I make my own decisions, and I�ve decided that you three can piss off back to the yard and carry on with the sheep shearing that I�m paying you for."

Everybody stopped in their tracks, the men didn�t say a word to Mr. Jones, but as they walked away you could hear them all having a go at the man who had annoyed Mr. Jones. The boys stood still waiting for the next instruction. Patch (the dog) had arrived on the scene, and Bryan was getting amusement from lowering me down sufficient so that patch could resume his licking.

Mr. Jones grunted, "Pass her here, I�ll take her, Bryan, go take that bloody dog back to its kennel, and make sure he�s locked in. Morris, go and get a torch and hurry up about it."

I had now been transferred to Mr. Jones who had me held to his chest; I had my arms around his neck. My legs were now closed, but my dress was trailing in the muck, although this was a minor issue considering how close that rape had come.

I thought I would try to calm him down, by saying, "do you want me to talk to you about my wet panties?"

"Wet panties, if that�s the best you can do I might as well let the lads fuck you."

Well, I realized he was going to take a lot more calming down this time, "Do you want me laid back in the chair, so you can have a close look at me?"

"You women are all the same, when I ask you a question; I get silence, when I want time to think you can�t stop rattling."

I decided to keep quiet until he told me to speak.

Next second we stopped against the far wall of the barn. This side of the barn was pitch black with a high stone wall, at least twenty foot high.

"Get that bloody torch over here Morris," he snapped.

Without a word Morris rushed past, the torch in his hand lighting up a big heavy door in the stone wall of the barn, he lifted the catch and pulled the door open. The light of the torch now showed the thickness of the wall, it must have been at least three foot, with another door at the other side.

He lifted the catch, and pushed this door open, to reveal a large room about twelve foot square, he walked in ahead of us, turning to shine his light in the door way, so that Mr. Jones could see where he was stepping. He then turned and shone the light to the large bed that was in the middle of the room, where Mr. Jones put me down.

Morris walked round the bed to the far side of the room, and lit a small oil lamp that was placed on a box near the wall. He then turned off the torch and placed it on the box along side the lamp. The torch had not been that bright, but now it was turned off the oil lamp produced only a small flickering pool of light in the front far corner of the room.

With what I had seen in the torch light, and what I was now beginning to be able to distinguish, this room was the barest of places I had seen. It containing only the bed I sat on and the small box in the corner where the lamp was giving the dimmest glimmer of light.

Mr. Jones said nothing for several minutes, obviously letting me have time to assess my situation, and then suddenly.

"Well love lets explain where we are and what happens next. You see this used to be a slaughter house, it's built into the side of the hill that's at the back of the barn. It�s totally under ground, with walls so thick and double doors so that the animals in the barn couldn�t hear there mates been killed, cuz that would spook them. But as you can see we don�t do that any more, so we use this room for another kind of butchering. And those thick walls make sure that no matter how loud the bitches scream, you wouldn�t hear a thing in the barn next door."

I sat motionless listening to his every chilling word, he held out his hand, which I reluctantly took, he led me off the bed, and walked me across to the wall where there were several photos pinned to a wooden beam. They ranged from very old sepia ones that must have been taken in the early nineteen hundreds, to modern colour pictures. The first one to catch my eye was a colour picture, and I recognized the face to be Mrs. Trump, the previous owner of our house. She was naked, on her back, with legs and arms stretched out and tied to what was obviously the bed behind me, her smiling face was clearly visible, there was someone on top of her, whose prick was buried deep into her cunt. I stared in disbelief.

"You like that one," said Mr. Jones.

"No, its not that," I said, "I thought I recognized the lady."

"I�m sure you do," he said, "its Barbara, who you bought the house off, she looks like she�s having fun don�t she?"

I didn�t reply.

This obviously got him angry again, as he snapped.

"I said, she looks like she�s having fun don�t she?"

"Yes."

"For a school teacher, you don�t learn very well do you? You should know by now I�ve got a short fuse. When I ask a question, I expect an answer, not a dumb silence. This is your very last chance; one more hesitation, and I�ll call the shearing lads in, and me and my boys will fuck you till you can�t stand up."

All of the photos that were on the beam showed women, and girls, some very young, all being abused in one way or another, whilst being strapped to that bed. The hair styles, the clothes (where any were still on), all indicated this bed had been in use for many years and had claimed many victims. I knew by his tone that I would have to be very careful not to be one of them.

"I�m so sorry," I quickly replied.

"I�m not so sure about that." (Pause). "It�s about time you proved that you want to please me."

"Please just tell me what you want."

"Well let�s say I�m trying to be your friend, I don�t want to see you upset, so this is what I�m going to do. Before I ask you a question, I�ll explain the outcome that your different answers would make happen. This way you�ll get time to consider your answer, then we won�t get these pregnant pauses, and I won�t get upset."

"I�m not quite sure I know what you mean but if that�s what you want to do, of course it�s alright with me," I hastily replied.

"Right I�ll give you an example. Now don�t answer until I tell you to. Now supposing I said I think that it�s a waste of time you wearing that dress, would you like to take it off. You would have to consider the alternatives. If I leave it on, it ain�t covering up any thing, apart from your shoulders, it keeps getting in the way, its getting dirty, and old Di will probably blow his top, and you�ll end up getting fucked by him and his mates.

"On the other hand, if you take it off, you won�t really be showing anything more than you are now, it won�t keep getting in the way, it won�t get any dirtier, and old Di will probably calm down. Then maybe after we had our talk, all the problems that we�ve been having down at the house will be over, and he might let me go home. Now you see, you�ve had time to consider the alternatives. And when I say to you, �what�s your answer�? I�ll expect an instant yes or no. Do you see what I mean now?"

"Yes, I understand," I said quickly.

"That�s good, now were learning. Well, what�s your answer?"

"Yes," I snapped. I had as he said. Had time to think through the alternatives, and his assessment of my predicament was pretty accurate, what had I got to lose?

"Right my dear, do you want any help."

"No, I�ll have it off as quickly as I can."

"Now I think you and me are starting to understand one another."

I undid the fasteners that were on the top of my dress and lowered it off my left shoulder, folded it, and passed it to Morris who was standing there with his arms stretched out; he took it to the other side of the room and placed it on the box. By this time all of our eyes had got used to the lack of light, and I could make out that Bryan was also in the room standing by the now closed door. I stood there alongside the bed, in just panties and bra. Mr. Jones pointed to the middle of the bed, and said, "Jump up, lie back, and make yourself comfortable."

I did as I was told. The sheets on the bed were obviously stained with what I can only suppose was the residue from one type of bodily fluid or another, it felt hard and crusty in patches. As I lay back I thought what now. I turned my head to Mr. Jones and waited for his next instruction.

"Can you edge your way right to the top of the bed love, I�m not as young as I used to be, we haven�t any chairs in here, can you make room for me to sit at the foot?" He said very softly.

I responded instantly, "Yes, I�m sorry I never thought," I wriggle furiously to make room for him, until I could feel the bars of the bed head on my hair. "Is that enough for you?" I asked trying my best to keep his calm temperament.

"Yes that�ll be fine," he said. "Now before I sit down do you think you�re ready to prove you want to please me?"

"Yes, just ask," I said, not knowing what I was letting myself in for.

"Well, like before. I�ll ask the question, give you the alternatives, then expect an instant answer, is that understood?"

"Yes."

"If I said, will you take off your panties, and you said no, we would be back to the situation where I call the shearing lads in, and me and my boys will fuck you till you can�t stand up. But if you said yes, I wouldn�t be able to see any more of you than I have already seen, especially with that bloody little oil lamp. But I would consider this to be a really friendly gesture. Then we could continue our talk, and maybe after we had our talk, all the problems that you�ve been having down at the house will be over, and I�ll let you go home. Think about it. Right answer now."

"YES," I was almost shouting, scared of the alternative.

My hands were furiously tugging at my waist band, I lifted my legs high towards my head, and the panties were gone in an instant. I returned my legs back down the bed and smiled, hoping this would please him.

"That was good, now open up wide to give me plenty of room to sit on the bed."

This time he had not given me the alternatives, and time to think, I guess the alternatives were obvious, so I gradually started to open my legs. The light was dim and I was in a shadow, but never the less it was all I could do to keep them legs moving wider, and wider, until.

"That�ll do," he said.