Faye was a businesswoman, successful, for her age, and was enduring the yearly family Christmas gathering. At a humble 26 years of age, she had a good salary, a stable position, and no ties. Apart from this annual hell.
Each year it was held at the same Tudor castle close to the Welsh border. The room, as always, was spacious and comfortable; a gas fire flickered in the fireplace underneath an intricately carved mantelpiece. The wood in the room was all dark mahogany, pockmarked with age and smoothed with time, and two red armchairs waited invitingly. The large four-poster bed promised a good night's sleep.
The family meet would happen mostly the next day, so Faye decided to make use of the gloriously lavish bathroom adjoined to her room. After stripping off her travel clothes, she gathered herself into one of the plush white bathrobes that hung from a hook in the bathroom and turned on the hot water to fill the tub. While waiting, she poured herself some of the complimentary sherry, and selected a book to read.
The bathwater was divine. As she sunk into it, she let out a moan of satisfaction, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the hot water swirled around her. Her nipples stuck up above the water, floating up as if to catch a breath. While her breasts weren't obscenely large, they were definitely big enough so that their tips wouldn't be covered by water in anything but the deepest bath. Faye sighed and shrugged, causing the water to ripple around her, then reached out to immerse herself in a literary world.
After a while, the words on the page began to bore her, so she tossed the book onto the pile of her clothes and closed her eyes. She moved her hands to cover her breasts. It had been so
long
since she had been with a man. The last time was a far from satisfying encounter with a student she had picked up from the local pub. Instead of the virile young man she had been hoping for, it was wham, bam, thank you ma'am, couldn't even get it up a second time. Useless. Her hands travelled down, skimming the flat plane of her stomach, pressing her hip-bones and down lower to tug at the neatly kept landing strip of hair between her legs. Being immersed in fragrant water was extremely sensual, so she decided to continue, her eyes tightly shut and her fingers excited. She pushed through her folds to tease at her clit, and just as she was really getting into the rhythm of things, the shout of a rough male voice startled her, and she jerked her hand away.
It was some of the staff at the castle, working outside, moving some supplies. Their voices, deep and informal could be heard through the thin windows outside her room. Embarrassed, she pulled the plug on her delving and clambered out, dripping water. Still listening to their muffled conversation, she worked lotion into her skin, massaging it into her long legs, kept athletic by frequent visits to the swimming pool. The more she listened, the more she imagined the raw masculinity that the men she could hear might have; in her mind, she saw them as broad-shouldered, toned and hard, their skins with a slight sheen of exhaustion from their labour. Her fingers slipped back into her groin. They would be tall, with loutish grins on their lips, ready to give her exactly what she wanted, mmm...
Once again, she was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. She hurriedly pulled on a robe and hurried to open it. It was her aunt. After a couple of meaningless pleasantries, the old biddy left, but by this time any arousal Faye had had was gone. Relatives tend to do that.
Instead, she poured herself another sherry and settled in an armchair with a magazine. It was already dark outside, and the men's work had become silent. They must have finished, she thought, crossing her legs. The robe loosened, revealing her crossed legs and the top of her generous cleavage, but Faye didn't mind – the room was very warm.
However, not ten minutes into her reading, there was another knock at the door. Frustrated, she adjusted her bathrobe, synching it tightly around her thin waist and pulled open the door, expecting the smiling, wrinkled face of another aunt or uncle.
What she got was altogether different.
Two men burst into the room, one gripping her mouth and jaw and pushing her back, the other locking the door behind them. Faye tried to scream, but there was nothing she could do through the first one's hand. She tried to beat him off, but by this time the second had grabbed her arms and was holding them tightly behind her, pressing his body to her back. She whimpered and struggled but their strength overwhelmed her. With frantic eyes, she looked upon her two assailants.
The first, the one with his hand on her mouth, was taller than her by a foot, broad-shouldered, like in her fantasy, and with a mess of wet brown ringlets swept back with a careless hand. His brown eyes were wicked, his chin covered with stubble and his hand huge against her face. The second was shorter, her head coming to about the height of his nose, and, from what she had seen, lighter-haired. Both were toned and fit from work, t-shirts not being able to hide the raw power beneath them.
The hand was removed from her mouth, and the first replaced it with his tongue, kissing her roughly, stubble scratching her chin. At first, her knees buckled... but then she regained her senses and, biting his tongue as hard as she could, began to scream.
A sharp blow quickly silenced this, her cheek burning with the pain of his slap.
"Now, bitch, you are going to pay for that." Said the first, "You think you can just show off those pretty little legs of yours for all the world to see, without consequences?" He and his pal chuckled at Faye's bewilderment, "Oh, you didn't realise you were such a cocktease? Well. We'll have to show you what we mean..." He grabbed the lapels of her robe and yanked them apart, exposing her ripe breasts to them both. Her traitorous nipples had begun to harden, and she drew breath for a louder scream for help.
