Wife's Private Home Movies (by request)

[DorianBlack]

Joshua opens the door to his house dragging his bags behind him. A yellow cab backs out and pulls away from the house. He drops the bags on the floor and slumps into a padded chair. It’s been a week since he was home, and he’s exhausted. Sandra should still be at work and won’t be home for hours. He looks forward to a rare chance for peace and quiet. He loves his wife, but she does like to chatter on about nothing for what seems like forever. After a week chasing clients around South America he really just wants to sit in a chair and watch some television in English. He walks into the kitchen and pulls a beer out of the fridge. He notices a pile of what look like burned DVD’s sitting on the table.

“Crap,” he thinks to himself when he sees dates written on the cases in black marker. The dates start just after he left town and end sometime after. It must be from work. His manager recently started video conferencing his daily meetings and he’s been out of communication range. He’d thought being ten hours away would spare him, but apparently not. Sighing he takes the DVD’s to the home theater and pops one into the player. He might as well get it over. He waits until the player warms up, and presses “play” on the remote.

A brief burst of static is slashed by an unfamiliar face.

“Good evening, Mr Goyen. I expect you know who I am.” No, I really don’t, Joshua thinks to himself. Why do you know my name? “You’ve been warned about your debt and yet you refuse to pay even the interest.”

“What the hell,” Joshua blurts out. “Is this a joke?”

“Just to show you this is no joke, we have someone we’d like you to meet.” The camera pans rapidly around in a straight line. Joshua recognizes a tripod mount, despite being somewhat bored.

His beer falls from his hand when his wife pans into view as the lens focuses back and forth until it settles on her. She sits in a chair wearing her workout clothes, spandex shorts and a sports bra. He can envision her ankle socks and cross trainers just out of view. The most visible accessory, however, is the duct tape wrapped around her arms, legs, wrists, and chest. The tape straps her down to an old fashioned swivel chair with arms. He can see her struggling and crying into the piece of tape covering her mouth. The clarity of the picture is amazing because even from this distance he can make out tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

The man from before steps into the picture. He kneels down so his face is level with Sandra’s. He looks at her and quickly rips the tape from her mouth.

“Ahhhh … ”she screams. “Please! Please let me go! Please just let me go! I’ll do whatever you want! What do you want?!? Please … no! No, please!” She continues screaming as the man reattaches the tape to her mouth.”

“Well Mr. Goyen, it appears we have an impasse. You have something we want but we have something you want. May I suggest a trade?”

“Yes!” Joshua yells into the high definition picture projected onto the 56” screen in surround sound. “I’ll do whatever you want! Just who are you?!?”

“I would suggest you meet me at the bar tonight with our money. Perhaps we can work something out then.”

And with that, the screen went dark. Joshua leaps forward and pulls the disc out the tray faster than it can eject. He looks at the date. It was five days ago. His heart sinks into his throat. He’d been out of town, unreachable.

Then he notices the next disc made two days later. He pops it back in and jams his finger onto the play button. “Please,” he thinks.

Again the static and again the same man appears onscreen. He looks neither pleasant nor happy. Gone is the sport jacket and shirt. This time he’s wearing a tank top. Ornate tattoos are visible on his skin. He recognized saints and icons from the Russian Orthodox religion as well as writing in the Cyrillic alphabet. His heart begins to sink as he realizes who has his wife.

“Mr. Goyen, we have problem,” the man on the screen snarls. “You did not grace us with your presence or with our fucking money. Did you think we are the fucking wops? Do we look like mother-fucking Italian to you?”

“No!” Joshua screams to no one.

“You think we will leave your family alone if you screw us over?” The camera pans slowly around to reveal once again Sandra in the high definition horror. This time she’s hanging fracom her wrists wearing the same clothes as lat time, but this time her shoes and socks are plainly visible. Her face is marked with a bruise and a thin trail of dried looks like its drying under her nose. “Your wife is very spirited. We had to let her know who’s boss earlier. She kicked Dimitry right in balls, but I think she regret that now.”

A large man with a paunch steps into the frame. He’s shirtless and covered with tattoos similar to the host. He babbles something in what could only be Russian, and laughter from multiple people echoes through the room. He walks up to her slowly swinging body and puts his meaty hand on her waist. He laughs and spins her round and round slowly. Her head lolls to the side and he hears a low moan escape her lips. The thug spins her faster and faster, then lets go suddenly. Sandra slows in her spinning and pauses. Suddenly the room erupts in shouts and yelling. As Sandra starts to rotate the opposite direction the room goes suddenly silent. As she rotates past the brute he brings down his open palm with a ringing slap onto Sandra’s passing breasts.

She screams and jerks, suddenly alert. Even under her bra, the force of the blow causes her breasts to jump and wobble. The men in the room yell something in unison. Sandra passes again, and again her breasts are forcefully slapped. Once again she screams in pain and once again a yell but a different word. The scene repeats itself again and again until Sandra slows to a stop and hangs, dangling from her wrists, wracked with sobs. Several more men suddenly appear in and out of frame talking excitedly and exchanging wads of bills back and forth.

“As you can see, Mr. Goyen, my men are getting bored. When they get bored, they invent games. These men are not people you want to invent games for your wife to play. These men are experienced in Soviet prison and some are even military. They have not begun to make her suffer. Bring our fucking money, now.”

Almost no pause occurs between the discs as Joshua slams the last into the tray.

Again the static, but this time all he sees is a blank wall. Somewhere he can hear Sandra grunting and screaming into what sounds like a gag. The host again steps into view. His torso naked torso is covered in what looks like sweat and some sort of pinkish substance. “Well, Mr. Goyen,” he pants. “I hand it to you. You got balls. Most men would break by now, but not you. Well maybe you like to see what left of your pretty wife.”

The camera again pans around and he sees what looks like Sandra. Again she’s hanging in the air but this time she’s strung up in some sort of weird harness. Her hands are secured behind her back and she lays face down toward the floor. He thinks its Sandra because a naked torso blocks his view and brunette hair falls forward obscuring his view. A second naked man stands behind the woman, thrusting into her hard over and over again. With each jam, she swings forward where she meets a counter thrust from the man standing at her head. He smiles and with an obscene gentleness pulls her hair back slowly. Sandra’s face is revealed. Her mouth jammed open and sucking hard on the cock in her mouth. Tears and blood and mucous drip out of her eyes, mouth, and nose. A pool of liquid shines on the floor below. Suddenly the man behind yells something and grabs her hips. He pulls her back toward himself hand, and starts to shudder. Sandra’s eyes open wide in terror and she screams on the cock in her mouth.

With an almost audible pop, a large cock slips into view under his wife’s stomach. Liquid oozes from it onto the floor. Something appears to drip out of his wife as well, and he wonders how much come is currently stuffed deep inside her pussy. He had no idea how many men had been in the room for the last video, but it was definitely more than four. She must have been fucked and pummeled by most of them many times over by now.

“Let her down,” he hears the familiar voice command. Slowly with quick jerks his wife is dropped like semen covered meat onto the concrete floor. “Get her up,” he says.

Two naked men appear and grab Sandra’s arms, hauling her onto her knees.

“Now show him and maybe we end.”

Sandra quivers with pain, slowly opening her mouth. At first Joshua thinks she must have a mouth full of milk or water, then it dawns on him. “Swallow!” the voice almost screams.

Sandra quickly slams her jaw shut and heaves once or twice as if retching. Her throat contacts once, twice, and a last time. She finally opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue for inspection.

“Very good,” the voice praises her. “She’s really become very good at that. But we save best for last. Come here and bend over.”

Sandra painfully twists herself up without help and stumbles over to a coffee table in the middle of the room. She climbs up onto the table and falls forward, landing hard on the side of her face. The harness still straps her hands behind her back, but now Joshua can see how it frames and lifts her breasts as well. They smash themselves into the table top as she struggles to raise her ass as high as possible into the air.

The host moves in behind her, carrying a broom stick. He’s naked now with a large and rock hard prick glistening in the light. He slides the broomstick under Sandra’s hips and pulls her up and back.

“Now!” he yells and thrusts his prick forward into Sandra’s ass. He buries himself with a single stroke. The glistening must have been lube because there was no way she could take all that in a single blow. Sure enough, Sandra lets out an ear piercing scream and fights to pull herself off the cock embedded to the hilt inside her. He holds onto the broomstick, keeping her in place.

“No … oh … oh … oh! Aw God! No! Please God, no! Please let me go! Oh God!” she just keeps screaming.

He starts to thrust and her screams go completely guttural. “Ah … ah … ah … ah … ah … ah … ah … ah ….” As her cries descend into primal sobbing he starts to speed up and nods to some one offscreen. Another naked man appears once again at Sandra’s head. He grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her unresponsive form upward. “Stick it out,” he says in English.

Never ceasing her moaning cries, she thrusts her tongue out as if she’d been practicing this move for a while … which Joshua assumed she had. He watched his wife slowly lick clean the cock and balls of another man while the conductor of her symphony of pain ripped her ass open with his violent thrusting.

Joshua watched transfixed over the next two hours of video. Just when he thought the animals had exhausted their libidos and depravity, they found a new way to humiliate Sandra. He watched as they made her lick the semen pools from the floor. They made her beg them to empty their bladders over her raw and wounded face and skin. And there was the near omnipresent betting. There was the game to see how far she could squirt liquid out of her pussy. After a few minutes of franticly masturbating her, they ended up using what looked like a turkey-baster to fill her up and spew something out. They bet on how much of the broomstick she could take in her pussy, and then her ass when unsatisfied with the depth. By the end she was laying on the floor begging for their cocks with seeming real lust, desperate to end the abuse in any way possible.

“You know what, Tim. I think we keep her.” And the screen went black.

Wait, what? Tim? Joshua smiled to himself quietly and sat back down in the chair. So they’d bought it hook, line, and sinker. The fake name and front company he’d used to borrow money from the Russian mob had been successful. The money he’d borrowed was nowhere near him. He didn’t need it. With that bitch gone, he was in possession of her trust fund and all the houses and apartments. She’d been the one to ask for such large insurance policies, which had given him the idea. There was nothing to link him to any of this and he was now free. A few more months of desperately looking for her, and he’d be done with it. He wondered where he’d move when he sold this old place.

Perhaps someplace tropical, or perhaps someplace war torn. He smiled when he thought of the young girls at his disposal now that he had the money. While the authorities looked for someone named “Tim Goyen” who’d borrowed money from the Russian Mafia and caused Sandra Goyen to be kidnapped by mistake, he’d be sitting in a nice and isolated house with a decent stable of unfortunate girls working as his “indentured servants.” He quickly popped out the last DVD and went over to his laptop. He quickly burned copies onto the drive and got ready to put on his show. You never knew. He might not see Sandra ever again and he wanted something to remember her by.

[nybarbarian]

very nice story, really like the ending

[DorianBlack]

Thanks for the good feedback, NyBarnbarian.

I wrote this one based on a request posted a while back on this board. I can't find it now for some reason but the poster asked for an invasion fantasy where he was forced to watch but unable to do anything. I thought I'd try a new spin on the invasion scenario by asking what if the invasion and rape had already happened? No matter who you were or how powerful, there would be no stopping it.

[RayPistonprowl]

Well done. Great scenario.

[jwham]

Loved the story. Very well done.

[DorianBlack]

Thank you. More to "cum" later.

Ha, I crack myself up.

[justmetoo]

Very nice. I look forward to your next story.