Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 63

– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

Now, I know what you’re going to say.  As I felt these two clods frog-marching me across the meadow, my gingham blouse exposing just a little more than it should as they roughly held my arms, “Andy’s in trouble again!”

I can almost hear your voice in my head. But, really, I don’t go looking for this. I’m just a crossdresser wanting to wear some nice clothes and of course I like to get some dick now and then. Is that really too much to ask? And here I am, snatched from my bed in the dead of night by two goons with very poor dentistry.

I thought about this as I was being taken across the field and pushed roughly into he back of a mini van. And I don’t mean the nice way, with four guys dressed in ninja suits with nothing more in their minds than ravaging my body and leaving me in an exhausted heap besides the highway, like any self respecting slut of a crossdresser would enjoy. These knuckle dragging oafs had nothing so desirable in mind.

“You’re going to ruin my boots,” I said, as I stumbled.

“Shut up and walk, you stupid whore,” said the larger of my two companions.

“That’s really not a very nice thing to say!” I replied.

It did occur to me that I had my captors at something of a disadvantage. After all, they knew neither who nor what I am.

I had the definite impression that when it came time to say, “I’m not like other gurls,” my companions were going to be more than a little taken aback.

The mini van moved off quietly, the Butterworth boy at the wheel. His companion said to him, “Let’s put her in the barn by the old mill.”

I didn’t like the sound of this one bit. And yet there is something I feel I need to share with you. I wasn’t really afraid. Let me explain a little.

When you live what might best be described as ‘an active sexual lifestyle’ one does become extremely physical. You simply can’t do the things I have done, as often as I have, without becoming quite physically fit.  And I have to tell you that when you voluntarily open yourself to multiple sexual encounters, often simultaneously and deal with the likes of Dwayne, without choking in the process… Well, there’s only so much room for fear from an out of shape middle aged clod and his seventeen year old side kick. They were hardly hardened mobsters.

It wasn’t lost on me that in other circumstances I might have actually enjoyed the things I was now feeling distinctly uncomfortable about. To be honest, and I think you know this, it wouldn’t exactly be the first time I’d have been roughly taken by a pair who thought they were the alphas in the room. These things played through my mind as we drove through the darkness.

The van came to a halt a few minutes later and I was hustled out of the vehicle and roughly pushed into a dark barn.  The Butterworth boy forced me roughly down onto some hay on the floor, though to be fair I wasn’t exactly putting up much in the way of resistance. I guessed they’d had some cattle housed in the barn recently. Either that or the boys body odor was worse than I thought.

“That’s not very friendly of you,” I said, licking a little of the blood from my lips. The boy looked at me with something like hatred in his eyes.

“Oh, is this the bit where you try and get it up?” I said.

The Butterworth boy flushed red and his companion swung at me with his boot, but I rolled and the blow glanced off my arm.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” said the larger of my captors.

“Oh, I didn’t realise he was your boyfriend,” I said and he took another kick at me. This time I was quicker, and he missed entirely.

I could see the rage in his eyes, and said quietly, “It’s ok. Really, I approve of your lifestyle.”

He walked slowly toward where I was lying on the ground and for the first time I felt a wave of fear. This was someone who looked a little like he enjoyed the idea that he was going to make this hurt.

“You’re going to tell us exactly what goes on up at the big house,” he said with the petulant insistence of a cheerleader who wasn’t asked to the end of game afterparty.

As the big man suddenly lunged at me, I twisted away and with a burst of energy got to my feet. The Butterworth Boy was between the barn door and I, but I darted for it anyway. I feinted one way, and he went for it, and I slipped by. He turned and lurched after me, just in time for his head to meet the barn door as I slammed it on his advancing form. Once closed I pushed the latch across and the shouts from inside grew more insistent. A windowless barn with a heavy door latched from the outside is a surprisingly secure place. None the less the two occupants were throwing themselves against the door in an optimistic hope of escape.

I jumped into the drivers’ seat of the mini van and found my luck was holding. The keys were still in the ignition.

I gunned the engine into life and started up the muddy track. Thoughts of what to do next raced through my mind. Should I make an effort to get back to the house and my sister, or should I take this opportunity to make good my escape?

My sister’s words came back to me as the minivan bounced along. She’d said I was free to leave anytime. I slowed the vehicle and pulled to a halt. The barn was a couple of miles down the track, so they’d not be troubling me. I let the van stay there and opened the door, then stepped out into the star filled night.

I turned things over in my mind, and remembered 30 was lying in my bed just a few miles away. And here I was thinking of running away. But, from what? A place in which I was able to be myself? Of course, it came with a few caveats – periodic gang rape and sexual humiliation – but then, one could find the good side of that if one tried. And I was living out something of a fantasy. Not knowing what lay ahead for me had become something of a regular pass time, after all. Eventually you just get used to it.

I glanced back along the track. The douchebag duo would get themselves out of the barn and have a long walk ahead of them. I climbed back into the van and started the engine.

How the heck was I going to find my way back to the house and 30 sleeping quietly in my bed? I could almost smell her presence as I thought about her. The softness of her skin against mine and the sheer wanton desire that she exuded when she was near me. The way her body just rippled against mine, our touch blending us together. No, there was no resisting that. I picked the most familiar looking route and started out.


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