by Vandemonium1
If you are looking for character development, read no further. I don’t think it is necessary, so don’t do it as a rule.
This one has some elements of BDSM in it, and really doesn’t end well for those that break, if not legal laws, then moral ones. I explain where it came from in an afterword. This story technically includes a rape scene, but it is presented in a non-titillating manner, anything else would be offensive. If you have a ‘history’ you may choose to stop reading now.
My thanks to CTC. My editor, lover and best friend for the edit. As an editor, she’s a bit old fashioned and has edited differently to some of the editors recently seen on this site, in that she actually read the story, fixed spelling mistakes, added missing words and made sure the tense is consistent.
This one scores around 4.8/5 pickaxe handles on the BTBometer.
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Sonya looked at the retreating back of her husband and couldn’t supress a smile. Her scratch plan had worked brilliantly. She now had at least four hours to do what she’d dreamt of for the last two months. Completely free from restriction. Unbridled. It was going to be sooo good.
Hearing the toot of a car horn, she quickly grabbed her overstuffed handbag and made for the door. Closing it firmly but quietly, she headed for the car in the driveway. Even in the gloom of evening, Sonya could see that both front seats were occupied. She opened a back door and slid into the opulent rear of the Lexus, a little surprised that her friend from work, Clara, was driving. That made the tall, slim front seat passenger, Jonathan, her husband, by deduction. Trying to hide her need to get out of there quickly, she spoke in an uncharacteristically sing-song voice.
“Dave’s not coming. Let’s go, let’s go.”
Jonathan nodded at his wife, who slipped the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway while Jonathan introduced himself to Sonya. Once pleasantries were done, Clara asked the inevitable.
“Why isn’t Dave coming?”
For this, Sonya was well prepared.
“At the last moment he chickened out. He said he’s very happy for me to do this but just couldn’t stand to watch the first time. Maybe next time.”
Clara glanced sideways at her husband and raised an eyebrow quizzically. They then began a discussion, obviously justifying keeping going with the change of plan. If there’d been an impartial observer, they would have noted that not once did Clara deviate from driving directly to their destination.
Sonya tuned out and tried to relax after the drama of the last thirty minutes. She wanted to enjoy this experience to the fullest. After all, it might be the one and only time.
Sonya had worked with Clara for the last two years and they’d become reasonable work friends. Six months ago, on a Monday morning, Sonya commented that Clara seemed to be walking very gingerly that day. Clara hesitated, then began a conversation that altered Sonya’s world forever.
Clara and her husband were members of a group, although, Clara pronounced it, GROUP. It wasn’t exactly a swingers group, Clara was adamant about that. Rather, it was a conglomerate of five couples who shared a common interest. All the men liked watching their wives get fucked by other men. All the women liked being spoiled by multiple men at the same time. Sonya breathlessly used the word ‘gangbang’ at around this part of the story but Clara said they never used that term. The reason for Clara walking gingerly, was that it was her turn to be the centre of attention of five men the previous night. The reason for Sonya’s breathlessness was that Clara had stumbled upon the former’s favourite fantasy. Since her early twenties, the thought of sex with multiple men had made her gush. Now, at thirty-one, happily married, and on the cusp of going off the pill with the idea of starting a family, it should have been a long-forgotten dream.
And it had been until Clara started talking about her hobby.
The itch re-appeared, then grew exponentially over the ensuing conversations. Little did Clara know of a decision Sonya had made a few months prior. A decision that she’d already started acting upon, and a decision that made her future actions inevitable.
About two months ago, Sonya had decided she wanted some of the action. The huge stumbling block; what her husband would think of the idea. Without coming straight out with it, she’d prodded, probed, and plumbed the boundaries of Dave’s open-mindedness. She’d role played some aspects of swinging with him, and if she was any judge, he’d enjoyed it. However, the one time she’d even mentioned thinking about it for real, he’d slammed the door in her face. Marriage for him meant monogamy. However exciting the thought of watching Sonya with another woman was—that’s the sales pitch she’d pushed to get her foot in the door—a third person in bed wasn’t worth the risk it posed to their marriage. She stopped just short of, ‘can we do this?’
Sonya was getting increasingly frustrated. Going into the lady’s bathroom at work and masturbating to a knee trembling orgasm every time Clara described her weekend exploits or observations kept the lust monster at bay for only so long.
She was faced with three choices. Put the question bluntly to Dave and hope for the best. Give up on her dreams and never know if group sex was the ecstatic dream it was in her head. Or, somehow cut him out of the picture. She never seriously contemplated asking him, and if he refused, openly going alone anyway. She’d read stories and that never worked out.
Originally, she decided on option three and had told Clara she would attend the party on the previous weekend while her husband was away on a business trip. The party was unexpectedly deferred to this weekend and Dave wasn’t scheduled to be away for another few months. Option one was thrust to the head of the queue by sheer impatience and lust.
A natural ditherer, she left the decision too late. Early in the fateful week, after she’d shown her clear venereal disease certificate to Clara and added that Dave was also clear, but they were waiting on the official paper, she told her husband they’d been invited to a party with Clara and Jonathan, but not the nature of the party. That left option one wide open, and option three open, with a slight modification.
Sonya never worked up the courage to put the question bluntly to Dave. Or, if she was honest with herself, she knew that if she did and he refused, then he would be on high alert for her sneaking off some other time. So, she manufactured an argument where he refused to go out for the night. After twelve years of marriage, she knew exactly which buttons to press. When he appeared in smart casual attire, she demanded he change into his best suit as her friend were very well-to-do and she didn’t want to be embarrassed. Dave, being an extremely WYSIWYG type of guy, argued the point, allowing her to storm out the door without him.
If she’d been thinking with her brain at this point, the logic might have been, see how the first experience went, then, if it was a good as her dreams, take it from there. Either re-double her efforts to get Dave involved or put effort into coming up with a foolproof cover for her ongoing activities. Marriage and a family were her long-term utopian goals, so nothing she did could risk her marriage.
In the dark rear seat of the Lexus, Sonya smiled the smile of one who has pulled off a difficult manoeuvre. In the front seat, Jonathan shared an equally satisfied smile with his wife.
Before Sonya could dream too much more about the evening to come, they’d arrived at their destination. She hadn’t noticed what part of town they were in, but it was certainly a flash house. Just before their host opened the door to let them in, Clara whispered to Sonya that everyone in the group had agreed that as this was her first time, she should be the one and only centre of attention that night. This was beyond Sonya’s wildest expectations and she almost fainted from the rush and roaring in her head.
Once inside, she was ushered into a room, seemingly full of cushions. Lounging on the sofas were four women of about Clara’s age. In their forties anyway. Clara and Jonathan joined them in the circle of seats after leading Sonya into the room. Standing in the centre were four men. Younger than the women, they could well have ranged from late twenties to early thirties. All were well muscled and barely dressed. The anticipation caused all semblance of reasoning to be wiped from Sonya’s head. If it hadn’t, then questions like, ‘how can these studs be married to these women’, might have arisen.
The men closed in around her. One embraced her from the front and kissed her long and deep. One stood behind her and reached under Sonya’s dress before sliding her panties to her ankles. The other two groped whatever was left. Normally, Sonya would have been very uncomfortable being stripped bare in front of so many strangers, especially the spectators, but these were far from normal circumstances. For the next two hours, Sonya was all but oblivious of her surroundings. Coming down off one particularly powerful orgasm, she did glance at Clara and Jonathan. They were paying her no mind and quietly talking together. The woman next to Clara was stifling a yawn. That’s all that registered until several sets of hands, tongues, and cocks diverted her attention again.
Time had no meaning. The boundary of the definition of, ‘It can’t get better than this’, was pushed back every few moments it seemed. Four sets of hands caressing her, were replaced by four tongues or nibbling teeth. Once, Sonya caught herself looking down to see if her skin was actually on fire. It certainly felt that way. Even before the first cock entered her, the boundary of most pleasure imaginable, had been pushed back to an unimagined distance.
The guys were not only unbelievably skilled but incredibly patient as well. The first hour was taken up with teasing only. Rubbing hands. Stroking fingers. Lingering tongue caresses. All leading towards, but never actually reaching the trigger points she was becoming desperate, frantic almost for. If she’d been one on one with any of them, Sonya would have pushed them back and impaled her needy sex onto a tongue or a cock. Outnumbered four to one, she had no choice but to go where they took her. Similarly, their cocks were kept just out of range of her hungry mouth.
Finally, at a prearranged signal that caught Sonya completely by surprise, her major erogenous zones were attacked simultaneously. Two mouths and sets of teeth latched on to her diamond-hard nipples. A cock was finally presented to her mouth from above, an opportunity Sonya wasn’t about to let pass. All nice stuff, but all pushed into the background by the sensations between her legs. A tongue, very long and talented by the feel of it, thrust her inner lips apart and did incredible things. Simultaneously, something attacked her aching clit. Whether lips or fingers, Sonya would never know. Memory joined reason flying out the window. All Sonya was aware of was the most shattering orgasm of her life. Arching her back, she strained against the restraining bodies. Joined in silent union; tongues, fingers, and teeth all bit harder.
Sonya awoke from a faint to find it had all started anew. Caressing and kissing. Bringing her body back from heaven and arousing it again until once more she was screaming for relief.
More detail was impossible to remember as Sonya floated among the clouds. Later, memory provided just little glimpses.
The breath was driven from her lungs at the first entry of a cock in her screaming sex. Was it the same cock that was still thrusting away when the cock in her mouth erupted, causing her to gag as cum shot into the back of her throat? Whatever. She felt the shift change down below half way through blowing the next one presented to her face.
The witnesses saw the four guys lining up her sloppy pussy, one after the other, and emptying themselves in it. They saw their spent members being presented back to the recumbent mouth for re-charging. Sonya was ignorant on any conscious level of just about the lot.
When consciousness did begin to seep back, Sonya realised it was because she was getting numb. Her straining nerve ending had finally been overloaded. She tried to make sense of where she was and what she was experiencing.
She was on her stomach, and there was a grunting man under her. She became aware that her perspiration was dripping onto him. Not that he noticed. He was too busy thrusting upwards into her splayed cunt. Sonya marvelled at the detachment she felt from it all. She’d just started to look around, to see what everyone else was up to, when she felt a pair of hands grasping her hips. They pulled her ass higher, but not enough to detach it from the guy underneath. Suddenly, the hands disappeared, replaced almost instantly by fire. Good fire. No one had ever offered to use their tongue on her anus before. Now, without a choice, she experienced a very talented introduction.
Sonya’s last orgasm of the evening came minutes or hours later, she was off with the fairies again. When she came to this time, her hips bore down until she could feel the cock in her numb cunt nudging her cervix, her back arched to what looked like a painful bow, her head back at an impossible angle and a larynx-rupturing scream ripped from her throat. All this drowned the grunting below her as the sweat drenched man emptied inside her again.
She was vaguely aware of hands lifting her hips again, her cheeks being spread and a cock nudging her quivering anus. She turned her head to protest weakly and saw one of the spectating women shaking her head at the guy behind her. The cock and hands were gently removed, and she lay spent on the guy below. She felt his now flaccid cock slither out, followed by a mini tidal wave of cum. She was aware of relief. Despite Dave suggesting it several times, she’d never done anal. She’d realised and accepted before tonight that it would inevitably be included in the orgy sessions but was grateful to the unknown woman for saving her virtue on this occasion.
In the lead-up to tonight, the thought of anal made her a little nervous, terrified almost, that she wouldn’t enjoy it. She’d prayed that if it was to happen tonight, it would be unexpected while another cock was busy in her front hole. Thinking about the size of the members involved tonight, she was glad they’d been stopped. There and then, she resolved to explore the practice with Dave before the next time she was spoiled like tonight. Oh yes. There would be a next time for sure. Logic had no part in that decision.
“See, Dave. Even if you don’t know it, you’re going to win from this too,” Sonya thought to herself, as she was helped off the floor and towards a shower,
Despite having been screwed nigh on senseless, Sonya’s brain was busy. Perhaps from adrenaline, perhaps from the excitement. Regardless, her brain was in overdrive, already planning. If this was her night to get spoiled and the club met once every two or three weeks, then it would be eight to twelve weeks before she was the centre of attention again. That gave her plenty of time to broach the subject with Dave. If she was economical with the truth, then she could say that they’d been invited to the club by her workmate, but the first few times was just Dave joining some other guys in spoiling the other wives. Once Dave was used to screwing other women, then he might be able to handle seeing Sonya as the centre of attention. Yes. That might work.
She was almost fully recovered by the time she’d finished showering. Making her way back through the house, she came to the same room she’d been gangbanged in. Clara was the only woman in sight and then, she was mostly hidden. The guys from Sonya’s session surrounded her. Clara was straddling one, while the other two filled the other available orifices. Sonya found it a very erotic sight. Clara showed no discomfort at all, as one of the guys stroked in and out of her ass steadily. Sonya also marvelled at the way Clara seemed to be able to swallow the above average member in her mouth to the root with seeming ease. She’d have to ask her how to do that and practice on Dave. See, Dave, another win for you.
Sonya was just admiring how Clara went about servicing the three guys with businesslike efficiency, when Jonathan re-entered the room and suggested he take her home.
In the car, there were about a million questions Sonya wanted to ask Jonathan, but instead, she spent the time checking her appearance and inventing stories in case David asked her about the restaurant they’d supposedly gone to. If things went to plan, then he wouldn’t get a chance to quiz her. She’d learned that the best tactic with Dave was to attack first. She intended laying into him about making her go out alone and embarrassing her in front of her friend. That way, not only could she avoid details about the evening, but Dave wouldn’t pester her for sex and discover a gaping, oozing mess, because, despite having showered, she could feel more cum leaking into her knickers.
.
The attack being the best means of defence tactic, had worked on Dave before. Ever since Sonya had decided to accede to Dave’s increasing demands to start a family but had also decided to explore her sexuality beforehand, she’d become increasingly bold in her activities. Just eight months ago, she’d briefly explored her bi side with a neighbour, discovering, eventually, she probably didn’t have one.
On the last occasion, the exploration had been happening in her marital bed. Dave had come home early, but luckily, had made plenty of noise doing it. With the girlfriend in the closet, the reek of female sexual excitement so thick in the air you could almost see it, and her husband’s steps on the stair, Sonya had had little choice. Opening the door just before Dave did, she’d blasted him for scaring her. He should have rung before coming home, she’d ranted, rather than scare her to death while she was taking an afternoon nap. The harangue kept her husband preoccupied while the neighbour made her escape.
Sure, the exploration had been fun, but it certainly wasn’t worth risking her idyllic life for. Married for twelve years to a man who doted on her, and a job that was more to keep her from getting bored than from economic necessity.
Sonya smiled at the memory. Yes, an attack along the lines of ‘how could you embarrass me like that to my friends’, would keep his head down, his prick in his own pants, and give her time to plan either to broach the subject of group sex to him or decide how to hide her activities. She briefly thought of employing a tactic a friend of hers had successfully used to get permission from her husband to sleep with other guys. That is, wait until she had the leverage of children to force the issue. She realised she was too impatient for that. Besides, once she was pregnant, she’d decided to be the model housewife. No. The preferred option was still to appeal to her husband’s inner man-slut.
She was still smiling when Jonathan pulled up in her driveway. He let it be known that he would stay with his lights shining on the front door until she was safely inside. Sonya eased out of the car and hobbled to the door, walking like a cowpoke who’d just completed a forty-kilometre endurance ride.
Meanwhile, back at the McMansion, Clara dismissed the gigolos with no small hint of annoyance. Getting spoiled by a bunch of studs, as a reward for attracting a new club member, would have been her dream once. Now she needed way more than that to come anywhere near sexual satisfaction.
On the hobble up the driveway, Sonya passed the reflective sign advertising Dave’s business. Fuck, it felt like her groin and vaginal muscles were well and truly stretched. Pulling it from her purse, she fumbled her key into the lock. Or tried. It wouldn’t fit. Checking it was the right one, the only anodised blue one she had, she tried again. It was totally the wrong shape. With rising panic, she began bashing on the door. No noise, no lights, no nothing to indicate the house was anything but empty. The panic rose higher with every passing second.
Jonathan exited the car and came to see what the fuss was. After watching Sonya trying to force the key in yet again, he pointed out to her the evidence that the lock had been freshly changed. The mismatched paint around the outer ring and the fresh screws. Sonya’s panic was becoming all consuming. With trembling legs, she leaned against the side of the porch.
“Why did Dave do this? He can’t have known.”
“Known what, Sonya?”
“Where I was tonight. What I was doing.”
“You told him. You said he was fine with it but just didn’t want to witness it the first time.”
“Um, I may have bullshitted a bit there.”
“Oh shit! What have I done?”
“What do you mean, what have YOU done?”
“Well, when you said he didn’t want to come, I wanted to reassure him that we’d look after you. I texted him that we’d make sure you were okay and that all the guys would wear condoms.”
The enormity of what Jonathan was saying couldn’t penetrate Sonya’s defence and denial mechanisms. She honed-in on the one part of his statement that did get through. Lifting up her short skirt, she pointed with her free hand to her soaked panties.
“Does it fucking look like they all used condoms?”
Sobbing, she sank to her backside, head in hands, mind overwhelmed. Jonathan just stood looking down at her until she calmed down a little. She looked up, teary eyed. Fresh makeup ruined.
“How the fuck did you know who he was? Where did you get his number?”
Jonathan just pointed to the prominent sign in the front yard. Sonya looked in the indicated direction blindly, then allowed Jonathan to help her to her feet, back into the car. They drove away from the house. Destination? The same mansion they’d left just a little while ago.
From his vantage point behind a tree next to the driveway, Dave wiped a tear from his eyes. The text three hours ago had shaken him to the core but did explain a few weird conversations his wife had initiated in the last month or so. Yes, he’d been convinced enough to change the locks, but one last trace of hope must have remained. That last was shattered by Sonya’s scream while lifting her skirt. He went into his now lonely house and made the first of many phone calls.
Almost catatonic, Sonya was led past the room she’d been indulged in earlier and led to a spare bedroom. There, Clara tried to console her before giving up. One of the other wives appeared and urged Sonya to drink a tonic that would relax her. Two minutes later, suffused in a beautiful glow, Sonya fell into an exhausted sleep. Clara and her friend then exchanged smiles before turning the lights out and retreating.
Chapter 2
Sonya spent the whole weekend at the mansion. Every time she woke, she’d get agitated by thoughts of the enormity of what she’d done and what she was in grave danger of losing. Dave was her perfect partner and all her dreams of a future featured him. More than once she’d reached for her phone, and when she couldn’t find it, agitatedly got up to get dressed. At that point, the lady of the house entered and got Sonya to drink something to settle her down. The mixture of sedatives and ‘a little something to make you feel better’, worked and she would sleep again. Five or six hours later, she would repeat the whole process.
It wasn’t until Sunday evening that Sonya asserted herself enough to demand her phone. After putting some thought into an opening apology to her husband, she dialled. ‘Number no longer in service’ was the response both times she called Dave’s pre-set number. How the hell could he forgive her if he wouldn’t even speak to her? That made her angry more than anything.
A call to her parent’s number only made the chills down her spine worse. Her father answered and interrupted her greeting.
“Is what Dave told us true? Did you sneak out and sleep with another man, or other men?”
“Oh god, is that what he’s saying? He shouldn’t…”
“I thought so. That boy never lies. Don’t bother calling here again.”
Sonya hung her head at this. In her pre-planning, she’d vaguely considered the effect of being caught cheating on her husband and marriage. Never in her wildest dreams had she considered losing the respect of her parents. Badly needing more support than from two women, ten years older than her, that she barely knew, she called a few of her other friends.
All were joint friends of her and David, and all let her know that the friendships were terminated. How could she do that to him, was the almost standard response. She should have known that a powerful driver for Dave was what people thought of him. Of course, he would want to explain to everyone whose opinion he cared about, that what had happened was in no way his fault. Sonya had stupidly allowed him all the time in the world to say his piece by staying out of circulation for forty-eight hours. The scariest thing about the recent developments, wasn’t the loss of friends but what his actions told her about Dave’s plans. Someone who was willing to tell everyone about his cuckoldry, wasn’t someone who was planning on quietly sitting down with his wife and getting past a roadblock in their marriage. They were the actions of someone who’d made the decision to terminate the partnership. For any chance of salvaging their relationship, she had to get to him and get to him fast.
As she ran wildly around the room looking for her clothes, Clara and her hostess came in her and got her to drink something. She felt happy but drowsy once more. As she drifted off to sleep, it struck Sonya just how completely isolated she’d made herself.
She woke Monday morning to find a note from Clara to say she’d reported in sick on Sonya’s behalf and she would see her that night.
Shortly after that, her mother rang. After lambasting her daughter, she told her that if she gave her a few weeks or months, she might be able to talk her father into cooling down to let her stay there. Sonya said she’d only need a week maximum to get Dave back. Her mother, significantly, didn’t reply to that.
After ringing off, Sonya searched the house. There was no sign of its occupants. Ignoring calls from Clara, she looked in the master bedroom until she found some casual clothes belonging to her hostess that fit well enough to wear out.
For some reason, a search of her purse proved her cash and cards were missing. Without thinking why this was, she delved deeper into the bag until she found the envelope in which her replacement debit card that had arrived during the last week was. She followed the prompts to activate it, then called a cab. Thinking ahead, she grabbed the bottle of water next to the bed.
The taxi took her to the business district via her house to prove there was no way in and David wasn’t home. The debit card got her a hire car. She was mobile and on a mission. Find Dave, get him back into the fold by any means. Leave the area. Go somewhere no one knew of her humiliation. Become the best wife and mother in the history of mankind. Live happily ever after. Easy, for a woman of her looks and talent.
Except, Dave wouldn’t cooperate. She went back to his, no, their house, went to the back door and quietly smashed one of the stained-glass panels at the side. Reaching in, she unsnibbed the lock and let herself in.
The house, which had always seemed warm and cosy, had an empty, echoey feel to it. Sonya walked through it, feeling like a stranger even though everything was quite familiar. Dave had been there this morning, she could feel it. His work boots were near the door and examination of his work diary showed that jobs today and tomorrow had been erased. She went upstairs. No bags were missing. Dave must have just gone out for the day.
Sonya was now a little stuck. After her break-in, the house was no longer secure. If she left, someone could just walk in and steal her stuff. For the first time she thought of the legal position she’d put herself in. The house was Dave’s before they married. By changing the locks, he’d sent a good strong signal that she was no longer welcome in it. Could she get into trouble for breaking and entering? That was only relevant if she failed to win Dave over. Walking to her closet, she laid out some sexy clothes, then showered. She often masturbated in the shower, finding it excellent for relieving tension. Today, she tried to evoke memories of Friday night. All that came to mind was embarrassment and shame. How could she have been so stupid as to risk everything for something as ephemeral as pleasure. She hung her head.
Being a smart woman who covered her bases, Sonya packed a couple of bags and took them to her car. She could always unpack later. Returning inside, she thought about where the most sexy position for Dave to see her would be. Draped over the couch she decided. She was still there, daydreaming, well after the time Dave normally came home.
She was roused by the house phone ringing. She decided to wait for the answering machine to pick it up and was shocked that the outgoing message had been changed. Only Dave’s voice was on it now. He had been thorough. The message was from a friend of his, saying as he couldn’t get through on Dave’s mobile phone, he was ringing there. Something had come up and he couldn’t make the pub tonight. Of course! Males in distress went out and got hammered.
Sonya was still pondering a course of action when her mobile rang. It was Clara, she’d gone to the mansion, whose owner had left for the weekend, to find Sonya gone. Where was she? She wasn’t really in a fit state to be out alone. If she stayed there, Clara would come and collect her. Something about the insistent tone Clara used disturbed Sonya. She was an independent woman. As good a friend as Clara was, she was perfectly capable of looking after herself. She told the older woman that she was going to trawl the local drinking establishments looking for Dave and depending on how she went, would see Clara later. Clara gave her her own address when Sonya refused to say where she’d be.
It was gone 8:00p.m., and Sonya was checking out the fourth pub when she changed tactics. Up till then, she’d just been looking in the carparks for Dave’s car. If he didn’t want to be found, maybe he’d hide his car or use another one. From that point, she went into each establishment and searched, getting increasingly angry that Dave was wasting her time like that.
At around ten-thirty, Sonya pulled up at yet another watering hole. This one looked seedy to say the least. God, she was tired, and when had she last eaten a decent meal? She picked up her purse, prior to checking out the bar. Underneath was the bottle of water she’d brought from the bedside table of the mansion. Thirsty, she guzzled half the bottle. Thus, two minutes later, when she walked in the front door of the bar, she wore a lazy grin and was feeling increasingly euphoric.
Sonya never did have clear memories of what happened that evening. She vaguely remembered walking though the pub, looking in all the nooks and crannies for Dave. At one point she stumbled and was caught by a guy. The next thing she knew, she was on the dancefloor with him. The next, cool air as they left the pub. The next, looking over the shoulder of the guy that was fucking her on the back seat of a car, at a guy unzipping his fly because it was his turn next. Memories of her first gangbang, just three days prior were fresh enough and similar enough, that Sonya began to get into it.
Sonya’s introduction to anal sex occurred somewhere in that missing hour. She only realised that when the cold of the lawn outside the pub on her bare skin roused her. Her ass was sore, and she had something leaking out of it. She was very relieved to find it wasn’t blood. Realising she was too out of it to drive, she rang the only friend she had left in the world; Clara. Her friend picked her up and drove her back to the mansion. Sonya didn’t tell her about her experience. Just said she was upset that she couldn’t find Dave. It never occurred to her to report herself as being raped. That would bring even more negative attention. Besides, she’d been treated just as she was beginning to view herself. A slut that could no longer be satisfied by any one man.
Sonya slept through the next day. Several times she roused when the door quietly opened, and her hostess peered in to make sure she was still there. Clara came and saw her after she got home from work and prompted Sonya to list all the things Dave had done since Friday night. Sonya ended the recounting quite pessimistic. As if on cue, her hostess, June her named turned out to be, arrived with all the doings for Margaritas. Within an hour Sonya was quite merry, so when she felt Clara’s soft hands caressing her thighs, she leaned back and enjoyed it. Fuck Dave. She didn’t need him. Soon she felt a second pair of hands join Clara’s. She almost purred as they gently undressed her and made love to her in every way a woman can. At one point, Clara even used a strap-on to penetrate Sonya as she was on her elbows and knees. The fact that June was tongue lashing her clit at the same time made it comparable in pleasure to her experience of the previous Friday. When they’d finished, Clara whispered that she’d set an alarm for Clara and would pick her up for work the next morning.
This she did and at the end of a full day, suggested Sonya work some overtime to make up for the Monday and Tuesday. The manager gratefully accepted, and she worked until seven, when Clara picked her up and took her to the mansion. After a quick bite, she joined June in cleaning the kitchen. That took until nearly ten, when she collapsed exhausted into bed. She’d quizzed June about where her husband was. It turned out she was a widow, being left with the huge house when her husband died. The inheritance didn’t run to a maid or cleaner though, hence the hard work.
Thursday was a repeat, except Clara bought news that Dave had been bad-mouthing her to everyone he could find and was saying that, somehow, he’d gotten a video of the evening and was threatening to use it in a divorce if Sonya in any way opposed it. The good news was that Jonathan had already picked up the rest of her gear and was unloading it at the mansion as they spoke. That night, after unpacking her stuff and more housework, Sonya had to be given one of her special drinks before she could relax enough to sleep. ‘Fuck Dave’, she went to sleep thinking.
On Friday, Sonya half expected to be served divorce papers, but they never came. Clara helped her set up a new bank account for her salary at lunch time. Sonya would have been quite depressed if it wasn’t for the fact that Clara let slip that the gang were meeting Saturday night and had agreed that Sonya could be the centre of attention again. That made her almost float through her chores Friday night and Saturday. She’d never had to use a lawnmower before, but it was simple enough, if exhausting. You’d think with lawns this size, June would have one of those ride-on mower things.
Saturday night was almost as good as the previous time. On this occasion only June and Clara were present from all the wives and just watched as Sonya was made the centre of attention of five fit men. Towards the end, June whispered a question in Sonya’s ear as she was coming down from her latest orgasm. ‘Had she ever done anal?’ Sonya’s conscience quailed only slightly as she shook her head.
The next thing she knew, she was straddling a guy on the floor, while Clara gently inserted a small, well-lubed strap-on into her ass. She took her time over the whole thing and once Sonya got used to the modest size of the phallus, the initial discomfort was replaced by pleasure. Eventually, with Clara screaming how hot it was, combined with the guy underneath reaching between them and fingering her clit, she gave in to another orgasm. That signalled the end of the evening’s entertainment. After some refreshments, Sonya was carried up to her bed.
That set the pattern for the following weeks. Sonya waited either for Dave to get over his snit or have her served. She worked at the office, she came back to the mansion and helped June clean or maintain the property. She ate badly, lost weight, and had trouble sleeping without one of Clara’s tonics. They made her sleep, but she always awoke not feeling very refreshed. This affected her decision making. Any further efforts to chase Dave down or give up her new lifestyle were squashed by bad judgements and word from members of the group of what Dave was out there saying. The one time she did think along the lines of leaving the group, the logic went, ‘I’ve wrecked my marriage to join. If I leave, it will have all been a waste.’
Whether for Sonya’s benefit or not, the meetings changed to weekly, usually on a Saturday night. For the next few, she became a spectator only and recreational drugs were overtly used by spectators and participants of the evening’s pleasure alike. Each week, one of the younger studs wouldn’t be present, replaced by men more of an age with the wives. Sonya was told that if the husbands weren’t available, they were all top businessmen after all, they pulled guys from a tested clean pool of volunteers. Sonya was so out of it during this conversation that it never struck her as strange that gradually, the twenty-something studs of her first meeting were being replaced by overweight, forty and fifty-year old’s. It didn’t matter though. The pleasure she got from even just watching was satisfying. The drugs relaxed her enough that she masturbated through the second session as a spectator. She even distracted the action on the floor a little when she grunted out an orgasm at one point.
A month into her new life, just about all the original men had been replaced and she was impatiently awaiting her turn to be the centre of attention again. June was in the middle this week and the tonic Sonya had been given before the show was doing great things for her libido. The action was a little different this time, having distinct B&D overtones.
June had been tied, kneeling over a tall chair-like arrangement. She was stark naked and posed so that all her holes were at just the right height for easy penetration. When Sonya was led in the room, she saw June, helpless and humiliated, staring around with frightened eyes, incapable of even speech with a ball gag strapped firmly in place. Clara explained to Sonya that an inspection of their meeting venue this week, by the wives, had revealed that it was incorrectly cleaned. The wives had thought that Sonya should be punished for this, but June had accepted blame, thus saving her. Besides, there was a rumour that June had been naughty outside the group this week. Sonya did remember that her hostess had been missing on Wednesday night. For being a slovenly slut, she deserved punishment, they were all told.
Everyone had to line up and give June four slaps on the buttocks with what looked like a table tennis paddle. Sonya was told to go first. For the first few people, June screamed into her gag, but then went quieter. After Sonya had her go, she went to June’s face and kissed her tears away while she apologised and thanked her. Bizarrely, after the third round, Junes cries turned more into moans.
When this happened, Jonathan stopped the punishment, removed the ball gag and interrogated June. He held a wicked looking whip in the prone woman’s view while doing so. He quickly elicited an admission. Yes, June had gone out on Wednesday night and picked up a guy. She was lonely. All she’d done was blow the guy and then had straight sex. Yes, she’d used condoms. Jonathan replaced the gag before announcing that the punishment should fit the crime. Punishment was warranted for hygiene reasons. No sex outside the group could occur except with partners and those medically tested and authorised. The paddling was to recommence.
Sonya looked at the people lined up to administer the slaps. Besides Clara, there were the three other regular wives, Sonya had never been told their names. Lined up with them, was Jonathan and four other middle-aged men. All now buck naked and sporting erections as they watched June’s humiliation. One of them was tall, powerfully built but still overweight, and sporting a very unimpressive cock. Sonya had never seen him at a previous party, but as they were normally dimly lit, and she was stoned, she couldn’t be sure. Looking around, Sonya noticed that only Jonathan had anything bigger than an average cock, but what a beauty it was. Clara finished her punishment of June, then reached into a box and retrieved a strap-on phallus and harness.
Jonathan finished paddling June, passed the bat, as it were, to the next person in line, moved around to the front, rolled the ball gag out of June’s mouth, then thrust his cock in. With no consideration of her feelings, or even need to breathe, he began sawing in and out of her mouth. June gave little grunts around Jonathan’s cock in rhythm with the paddle swipes. It was one of the most erotic sights Sonya had ever seen. Rushing to the box she’d seen Clara pick from, she looked in and chose a plastic cock about ten inches long. Picking this up revealed an even bigger one. At least twelve inches with a huge girth. She was in a hurry, so rejected this and, without taking her eyes off the action on the chair, put on the smaller one.
She’d just finished when, with a bellow, Jonathan unloaded into June’s mouth. With her arms tied, she had no choice but to accept his hand on the back of her head, the tip of his cock at the entrance to her throat and the splashing load over her tonsils. Luckily for her, Jon collapsed exhausted before she passed out.
Sonya was ready. As Jonathan staggered backwards, exhausted, she stepped up to the plate. There was a look of panic in June’s eyes as she spotted the ten inches heading towards her. Mercilessly, Sonya grabbed the back of June’s head, forced her lips open with the plastic cock, and rammed in. She was like a she-demon possessed, until her conscience spoke. This could have been her being used and humiliated. She was responsible for cleaning the mansion as well. No, no, no. That was only part of why June was being punished. The other part was that she’d slutted around. Sluts should be punished. Hang on, aren’t I a slut as well? She stopped thrusting and looked down at the victim of her recent aggression. She saw a tear escape June’s eye. Mortified, she withdrew the phallus, dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms protectively around June’s face. They stayed like this while everyone else lined up and had their turn punishing June’s overused cunt.
Sonya was starting to come down from whatever was in her latest tonic. At one point, she looked up and around. The conclusion she reached was that these people really got off on this stuff. One guy was thrusting into June with an expression of pure sadistic pleasure on his face. His hand was busy, Sonya assumed fingering June’s ass while he screwed her. By the whimpers June was making, Sonya also assumed he wasn’t using lube. Clara and another woman were bent over June, while being screwed from behind. She didn’t remember the name of the guy screwing Clara, but Jonathan was behind the other woman. All eyes were focused on what was being done to June, though. The woman Jon was screwing was arched sideways so she could see what the guy fucking June was doing with his fingers.
Sonya went back to pressing her face against June’s, who was whispering to herself constantly, “I’m a slut, I deserve this. I’m a slut, I deserve this.”
There was a scream of orgasm from the woman, Jonathan was doing. It caused Sonya to glance up. One of the other women, whose name she’d forgotten, was strapping on a harness and the twelve-inch monster Sonya had seen before. She couldn’t allow this abuse of her friend and partner in crime. Disengaging herself from June’s head, she walked around and stood between the guy fucking June and the woman lubing up the monster, her intention clear to all. The woman nodded her head towards the cushions on the floor. Sonya docilely moved over to them and lay down on her back but was told that sluts lived on their knees. Obediently, she rolled over and braced herself.
To cut a long story short, it was as bad as Sonya anticipated. The gradual but implacable entry of the strap-on, elicited moans of pain from her. They morphed to whimpers as the woman behind her got into a rhythm. At one point, she looked over her shoulder as sounds of an impending female orgasm got through her overloaded senses. She was just in time to see the woman arch her back and her face screw up in pleasure. There was a guy behind her with his eyes focussed on Sonya’s discomfort. Also, as she watched, his hands snaked around her front to viciously squeeze her nipples. Half way through her peak, he unloaded into her. They both collapsed, thankfully dragging the demon out of Sonya. She rolled onto her back and massaged her stretched and used cunt.
Thankfully, that seemed to end the punishments. June was unstrapped, and, staggering herself, Sonya assisted her to the master bedroom, helped shower the almost comatose woman, then helped her to the bed where they both collapsed. Clara followed and expressed the hope they’d both learned their lesson. She poured them both a tonic then retreated, turning the lights out. June, obviously drowsy, mumbled, “That should have been you”, confirming Sonya’s early thoughts, that her friend had taken the fall for her, partly. She lay in the dark, cuddling up to her friend and fellow slut, glad she’d been able to spare her some of the pain she deserved. Sonya tried desperately to forget how turned on she’d been at one point during the evening. She didn’t recognise them as such, but the feelings of having to protect her new best friend were maternal in nature. She was almost in tears for the depth of feelings she felt for the poor, abused woman. She tightened her hold on her but within five minutes, she fell into a deep, sedated sleep.
Down in the massive dining room, Jonathan sat at the head of the table of three other guys and four women, reviewing the progress of their latest project. They were all discussing which items on their checklist could be ticked off.
Silence fell momentarily as the door opened. There was a quiet round of applause as the newcomer, a woman, walked over and took one of the vacant seats. Jonathan, as chairman that week, spoke first.
“Well done, June, that went really well. We’re proud of you.”
“You speak for yourself, asshole, you damn near made me puke with that huge pole of yours.”
Someone poured her a liqueur, then they got back to reviewing progress.
Chapter 3
Sonya wasn’t the first target of the group. Their extensive research beforehand, coupled with practice gained with previous victims had made them accomplished.
Once a victim was identified, they were then tempted until they crossed a moral line. Going behind her husband’s back and attending a gangbang was Sonya’s. Next, they were socially isolated. Wedges driven between husbands, friends, family. In fact, anyone who could offer guidance apart from group members. In Sonya’s case, further action became necessary as they learned David, who had so much time and emotion invested in Sonya, was considering forgiveness. A DVD of her greatest hits, anonymously in his letterbox, seemed to do the trick.
Once isolated, the next stage in the process of making a slave is well documented. Keep them busy, keep them physically tired, keep them malnourished. Make them feel like they deserve no better than they’re getting. As their treatment gets worse, make them feel worse. In Sonya’s case, she would be treated as a slut who deserved punishment at the same rate as she devolved into thinking of herself that way.
The group had started as a bog-standard swinging group. Then they’d needed more to get their jollies. After a year, even the gangbangs had palled. They’d played around a little with BDSM within the group, but none of them were masochists. So, they’d done their research and ensnared a single woman to humiliate and punish. It unleashed a beast amongst some of them. Those it didn’t suit, quietly left the group. For the men, it unleashed their instinct to dominate. The women, partly that and partly debasing a younger woman acted as a sap to their fading vigour and youth. Early victims escaped quickly, so it was decided to target those a little older and married. That way, more isolation could be applied quicker.
From his seat at the head of the table, Jonathan smiled at their previous victim. June winning this huge place in the separation from her husband had been a bonus. The man’s suicide had made her isolation quick and her guilt, very, very deep. They’d quickly ramped up her punishments to the level that even seasoned members of the group were sexually satisfied at the end of each session. Just as quickly, it became obvious that June was just too compliant. Where was the fun in the victim just lying there and taking her punishment? The plan for Sonya was a full order of self-loathing, hold the guilt. Half the fun would be breaking the new slave to their will. That’s why they were already backing off on the medication. When the time came to show her what the group really wanted, they wanted her nice and uncompliant, but not independent enough to escape. They stopped short of holding her against her will. She may not be going to like what they did to her, but she would accept it as her deserved fate.
After giving June the chemical relief she craved, the group retired to separate bedrooms. Each with their favourite partner, hoping that intimacy could replace the pleasure they used to find with members of the opposite sex.
The next week, between work and helping June frantically clean the house, Sonya quizzed June on her attitude to the previous weekend. June replied as she’d been coached, saying she was a slut and deserved everything she received. Sonya became more excited as the weekend drew near. It was her turn again to be in the centre. She confessed to the other woman that the only anal sex she’d ever had was with a strap-on at one of their parties. She told June she was looking forward to more practice at it, so she could finally be DP’d. When June asked if Dave had ever asked for it, the answer was a smiling, ‘yes, but he never got it.’
She was well primed by Friday night, when June passed on the message that the weekend’s party was cancelled. Most of the guys were away on business and it was too late to book the studs. After debating all the next day, Sonya convinced June that it would be harmless to go to a nightclub that night. And it was, until Sonya ran smack into David on the dancefloor. She attempted to explain herself to him, but he just spat on her and made his escape. Sonya felt humiliated, all over again. She knocked back two top shelf drinks then agreed with June that the best revenge she could get on her soon-to-be ex-husband, was to pick up a couple of guys, take them back to the mansion and have them get what Dave never did. June agreed to ride shotgun and keep an eye out for intruders.
The pick-up went easily, and Sonya found herself in her bedroom, rolling a condom onto one guy, while the other lubed up his sheathed cock. June was in a chair by the door, making sure the guys didn’t get too rough. After installing the sheath, Sonya mounted the guy cowboy style and rode him slowly to get some rhythm going. She felt the other guy slide behind her, a hand on her back pushing her forward, before first one, then a second greased finger spread lube up her near-virgin ass. Once the fingers were removed, Sonya forced herself to relax. The guy was gentle, but it still felt uncomfortable. She told him to just hold still until she got used to the sensation. They were holding this tableau, when Jonathan, followed by all seven other members of the group burst in the door.
Sonya looked from them to the two guys she was with and what she was doing. She realised she was in deep shit. She’d known it was wrong but done it anyway. She deserved whatever was coming her way and said that for the benefit of the recorder the group had rigged the room with. Her training was complete. She was enslaved. The group could do whatever they wanted to her. Sure, she would complain at the time, at least they sincerely hoped so, but deep down she’d always know she was getting her just punishment.
Epilogue
They do say that the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry. The group were justifiably proud of their creation. Well, to be accurate, they were proud of the success of their plan. That night, Sonya was punished in a manner that befitted her crime.
She was whipped, to get the groups libidos flowing, then forcibly sodomised by members of the group, multiple times. They no longer had to be gentle and make sure the recipient enjoyed it. The inner sadists were given free rein. For most of them, it was the most exciting night of their lives. All about the room, mixed pairs, that is, guys and someone else’s wife, screwed as they watched the action and awaited their turn.
They didn’t think Sonya had any screams left until the final act. With a ball gag in place to prevent biting, Clara got under Sonya and worked a ten-inch strap-on into her cunt. That way she could look into Sonya’s eyes as Jonathan none to gently lined up her puckered ring and entered with one quick thrust. The look of pain, fear, and humiliation in the younger woman’s eyes, ample reward for the months of hard work she’d put in setting this up.
After Jonathan was done, Sonya was forcibly showered then put to bed. June, recovered from her chemical reward, came in to tend to her.
The first phase of Sonya’s punishment lasted ten days. Every day June received a phone call to ask if the slave had recovered enough to be used that night. Every second day, the answer was yes. She tried to stretch it out for three days, at Sonya’s begging, but was forced to share her punishment for that.
Things may have continued like that indefinitely were it not for the human drive for escalation. One of the wives, driven partly by what she’d seen in the mirror that morning, compared to the younger, prettier victim, and partly by the fact that after so long and so much activity, she was struggling to get off while watching the action, again, decided to give the group a fresh, vibrant scream from the victim. Unseen by anyone else, whose attentions were fixed on the action, she strapped on the biggie, concealing it with her dressing gown.
She timed it well. When the guy currently sodomising Sonya was nearing his peak, and his wife had just finished coming on Jonathan’s cock over in the corner, she applied a fresh coat of lube. The guy grunted and shuddered, before pulling his rapidly shrivelling cock out, followed by a little gush of cum and a low moan from Sonya. He stepped back and another pair took over the vacant premises. Clara and another guy this time. Clara inserted her modest seven-inch strap-on into Sonya’s ass, staying still then, while the guy entered her from behind. Once all were joined, Clara set a tempo that would ensure her male partner wouldn’t last long. She reached down to finger her own clit, then used her free hand to slap Sonya’s ass to elicit the pain response she craved to see. Less than three minutes later, Clara came just before her partner. They both collapsed exhausted.
Pushing the next guy in line aside, the woman grabbed the strap-on, stepped forward and rammed it full length into the recumbent Sonya’s rectum. The unholy scream from the prone woman, brought everyone into a close circle. Most of them salivating. June, who was on duty serving drinks, was the first to see the blood, but it took all her strength to get anyone’s attention.
With the evening festivities ruined, the group showered Sonya and left her in the care of June. In the early hours of the morning, June called an ambulance. Sonya was delirious with fever, with blood and faeces seeping out of her anus. Tests over the next few hours confirmed she had a torn rectal muscle and peritonitis from a perforated bowel. The bowel would eventually make an almost full recovery, but twelve months later, she bowed to the inevitable and got a colostomy bag fitted. She adamantly refused to press charges against anyone, claiming it was all consensual.
This relaxed the group until they were all contacted by the local health authorities. One of the reasons Sonya’s bowel had torn so easily were the syphilitic sores up there. All sexual partners needed to be tested. They were in the middle of the testing process when the second contact came. Test for HIV as well.
The group had very strict testing rules. Group members were tested six-monthly. No group member was to have unprotected sex outside the group or from the pool of well-tested studs. Sonya’s second gangbang, on the back seat of a car, outside a seedy hotel, had breached protocols. The group never knew of it. The first guy up her ass that night, gave her syphilis, the third, HIV. That was six weeks before the completion of her enslavement, so she was highly contagious. Due to the violent nature of the sex acts, transmission odds were maximised.
All members of the group were treated for syphilis, complete recoveries all round. Jonathan developed HIV and later AIDS, dying twelve years later. His wealth buying him an extra four years on Sonya. Clara was clean, however, and refused to have sex with Jon ever again. At first, she kept her extramarital affairs secret, but when he had to stop working and stay at home due to AIDS symptoms, she learned to enjoy flaunting it in his face. When he died, he was in a prison hospital. He didn’t see the need to waste everyone’s time by pleading innocent to her murder.
The woman who administered the fatal strap-on was overcome by remorse from her actions. She developed AIDS as well, but her husband didn’t. She took to going to the poor end of town for impromptu gangbangs. She didn’t return one night and was never heard from again.
Two of the other women in the group tested positive as well. The carrier was traced to Jon, always popular in the group due to the size of his endowment. Both died divorced and alone.
June, also devastated by thoughts of what she facilitated done to Sonya, responded to an advert in a specialist magazine and joined another group, as the victim. She used some of her late husband’s wealth to buy the drugs she overdosed on six months later.
Dave attended Sonya’s funeral alone. His wife and three children never having known her.
Sonya’s story was used as a case study in the psychology course of the local university for six years, until details of a celebrity who collected and branded other women for her master/lover hit the media. Sonya’s ultimate punishment for giving in to lust and breaking her marriage vows, was for her genes and her memory to be forgotten by mankind.
The End
Over the last year there has been a few stories in the media of an actress allegedly recruiting what were effectively sex slaves for her master. Some of these women seemed happy to be branded by a red-hot iron, in their groin. I didn’t get it. You know me though, when I don’t understand something, I research it. Do you know there are books on how to make a willing slave? ‘Enslavement for Dummies’, now there’s a thought. The technique includes keeping the target isolated, tired and hungry while destroying their self-esteem. Sound familiar?
Now lighten the fuck up.
I was shagging this bird over her kitchen table when we heard the front door open. She said, “It’s my husband! Quick, use the back door!” Thinking back, I really should have legged it – but you don’t get offers like that every day.
A drunken man staggers into a Catholic Church, sits down in the confession box and says nothing. After a few minutes the priest coughs to attract the man’s attention, but still the man says nothing. The priest then knocks on the wall three times in an attempt to get the man to speak. Finally, the drunk replies, “No use knocking mate, there’s no paper in this one either”.