We`ve driven past the club and it reminds me of the Queen Charlotte in Leeds...another large heap of Victoriana full of the Northern working class. The sort of men i grew up with...the sort of men who copped a feel in clubs when i was in my teens. The sort of men i`ve avoided through my adult life. We park and I`m not at all sure i want to go through with this... but we both know i will. You put a hand on my throat `behave, there`s no going home`. Out we get... i straighten my skirt with a wriggle, re-arrange my tits and take a deep breath. This is the wrong place for eyes down cast... the fuckers need to be scared off. And if i don`t manage to scare them off they can at least want to take me down a peg or two. That`d be nice too. In through the door, and its like stepping back in time, they`ve kept the original bar intact, its crowded. It could be a Friday night in any Northern town, any pub any group of regulars...but its not...its a Sunday afternoon in a.n. other Northern town... so something strange is afoot. It even smells like Friday night top deck of a bus...too much aftershave and anticipation. There are mostly men.... too much bling....sharp creased slacks and only the meat raffle is missing. Theres not much in the way of female flesh... they`ll arrive later in the evening. There`s no way the girls could top up their tans and put a face on by this time in the afternoon. No. Surely it`s not just me? My head is swivelling desperately and i rise on tip-toe to see through the crowd by the bar. You laugh and hand me a drink `seems like you`re centre of attention girl, just the way you like it` and you lead me further in, into the club. In here its quieter, but as people filter through it becomes more obvious that..yes... i might really be the only piece of female meat in the room. Small groups of men are stood around quietly talking.... its becoming a murmur of disquiet. A large besuited man enters the room... he looks like he runs a working mens club...or...yes....a swingers club in a northern town. He pulls up a chair next to you and says something in your ear. You listen and nod...and turn to me. `Go and get changed` So i do....it`ll be good to get away from all those eyes for five minutes whilst i strip down to underwear, stockings and wrap. When i get back... mein host is on a small stage at one end of the room... he`s holding a book of raffle tickets...tearing them off and passing them round the room.... I roll my eyes at you as i sit back down. `i thought we were only lacking a Sunday meat raffle` i say. you smile `I don`t need a ticket`. `Why?` ...........and then it dawns. And the club owner is up on the stage beckoning to me. Mortified...and probably scarlet i stand up, helped in part by your hand under my elbow... and i walk to the stage, wrap held tightly round me and eyes to the floor. All thoughts of scaring anyone else are long gone...i`m very very scared. There are a dozen hands offering help for the two steps up...and i stop and wait until the hands are lowered... i don`t want anyone to touch me. I don`t mind you choosing people to fuck me... but this.... THIS is humiliating. I`m on stage, theres a sea of maybe forty faces.... theres not a single face in that crowd that i want to fuck....I don`t want to fuck anyone...i just want to get down off the stage....walk out the door and never, ever talk to you again. `Pick a number, love` `sorry?` The host puts an arm round my shoulders and repeats the request `...a number love...i`m not going to stand here folding tickets...just pick a number, make it one under 53 or we`ll have to start dragging them in off the street` Shit....i even get to choose my own fuck fate randomly.... I look again at the faces.... silence ......... ......... i know theres only one thing that can break this silence...and if i don`t do it...then you`ll be the one doing the taking me home and never talking to me again. ......... `37` A small cheer goes up from near the door....and a slightly shamefaced man is pushed forward from his group of friends and waves his ticket at me. `And another` This one isn`t so difficult to get out. `18` And this one doesn`t look much older than his ticket number. `22` `YAY! can we go together` shouts a large moustachioed mad: obviously number 18`s father. `48` fat and bald `7` lucky number 7...young....,not bad looking `12` ugh...stood at the front rubbing his cock through his trousers and leering `22` a roar of laughter....i`d lost count and any memory of numbers so far called...so there`s a pause in proceeding whilst its decided that if i called out a number twice he should get two goes....and then further laughter when he admits he might not manage two goes. Frantically i`m trying to count in my head...realise this next number will be `8` that`s how many you said i had to fuck tonight... you promised...and i turn to leave the stage. `oy.... where you going` says the host `your man said ten`. I must visibly slump as he pinches my arse and says `i`ll let you off the two if you give me a blow job before you start`...so i shrug and nod. And again turn to go. But he`s holding my wrist....and turning again to the room.... `a free drink to anyone who`s ticket wasn`t called whilst we wait and hope for more ladies to arrive....and before the proceedings start upstairs, i`m going to get my cock sucked` cue laughter. and then.....and then.... he gets his cock out and nods towards it. I look to the back of the room where you are still sitting...and you too nod. So i get on my knees and suck cock.