This is a complete work of fiction.
Remember the difference between fantasy and reality is as fundamental as the difference between right and wrong.
This story happens some time after Posh’s Dilemma I and II and therefore all references related to but not explained in this story, or Retribution chapter 1, can be found in the “Dilemma” series.
The reference to Louise Redknapp’s past experiences can be read about in detail on Literotica in my story “A Day at the Beach”.
******
“Oh shut up!” yelled Posh.
The telephone had not stopped ringing for the last two days. Fortunately Victoria could screen her calls via the answering service.
“Tori please ring me. I know what’s happened. I haven’t looked at the pictures of course but I still love you, so call me please.”
“Oh mum, just leave me alone,” muttered Posh to herself as the message ended.
True to his word Jeb had uploaded the photographs to the web site, soon followed by Carl adding his videos, presumably having sold them to the greasy biker. So now there was a complete collection of Victoria Beckham shagging the life out of many different partners, male and female, there for all to see in return for the princely sum of a one off £25 subscription. And now the phone would not stop ringing.
Victoria eased herself out of her favourite armchair and moved slowly towards the telephone. She was toying with the idea of calling her mum when it rang again and frightened the life out of her.
“Come on you fucking tart,” Posh cringed at her sister’s aggressive tone, “pick up the phone. I know you’re there ‘cos you wouldn’t have gone out not with the shit that’s flying around about you right now. I knew you’d end up like this you fucking slag, you deserve all that you get bringing this heap of shame on our family. Pick up the phone so that I can talk to you. You’re a whore, a fucking whore, that’s all you’re good for. As for poor David, well …”
The sentence trailed away as Louise, her sister, slammed the phone down.
Posh had stopped breathing. The torrent of abuse had made Louise seem like she was in the same room. Slowly the former Spice Girl exhaled as her head started to spin.
Once more Victoria slumped into the luxurious folds of the armchair and closed her eyes.
A loud ringing from the doorbell interrupted her slumberous state.
“Who can this be,” she grumbled as she pulled her tired body up from the chair and wandered over to the CCTV screen, “Fuck!”
“Let me in,” came the familiar sounds of her husband’s voice. She pressed the entry button, the nerves in her stomach already tying themselves in knots.
******
“No, please David,” she begged, “ don’t do this. Let’s talk.”
Her husband laughed in her face. “Talk? Forget talk you slut, the time for talk’s over, I want a fucking divorce.”
He had brought the divorce papers round for her.
“How are the children?” she asked genuinely very concerned about not having seen them.
“They’re fine,” he moved on quickly, “fine because they’re with me.”
Victoria became a little angrier following his dismissive and judgemental reaction.
“Why are you here anyway?” she shot back. “What the fuck makes you think you have a right to come walking back into the house when you like?”
“I wanted to give you the papers, and …” he looked her up and down. Posh had forgotten that she wore only a little pair of black knickers and a white vest, and she suddenly became very conscious of her state of relative undress.
“What?” she said coldly becoming acutely aware of her husband’s piercing gaze.
“Nothing.”
David stood very still and she could see the way his body rippled with muscle under his T-shirt.
“How did it make you feel Tori, Knowing that they were fucking you senseless and your family didn’t know a thing about it? Eh?”
“Don’t do this David,” she warned her voice as cold as ice.
“Or what?” he asked managing to laugh, “or you’ll leave me?”
“I couldn’t help it, there were reasons,” she defended, although in her heart of hearts Victoria knew that, despite the original premise, she now enjoyed the wanton sex.
“Anyway, you benefited from it as well.”
“What,” he shouted incredulously; “you mean I should be grateful that my wife learned how to fuck three people at once? You really know how to hurt you stupid bitch.” He pushed her shoulder, and she stumbled slightly.
“Did you get off on being their sex doll?” Posh was silent, not wanting to reveal the truth.
“What was it like knowing that which ever hole they were fucking you in, every time one of the bastards finished there was another to take his place. One after the other and they filmed it.”
“Please don’t do this David,” she warned again.
“Why? Why not? Well I’m here now, what about me, come on, fuck me!” He was shouting at her. “See what I’ve got under here,” he laughed, gripping his shirt and ripping it open.
Posh swallowed hard when she saw his lean, hard body.
“Is this what you want,” he roared, “Is this what you want to see bitch?”
She slapped him, and, when he did not respond, she slapped him again, then again. She continued to slap him until he picked her up and threw her at the wall. Posh sank to the floor and in his raging fury David leapt at her.
They struggled, but he was stronger and he easily pulled down her knickers, his fingernails digging into her stomach. Victoria screamed, but her cries were hushed as he jammed his mouth over hers and thrust his tongue down her throat. She tried to fight but he was too fast, pushing her thighs apart with his knees.
With one hand David kept her wrists pinned above her head whilst with his other he wound down his zipper.
“Is this what you want?” he screamed, almost foaming at the mouth.
David reached down and flipped out his erect cock. Posh felt dizzy, excited and sick. She gasped when he entered her, pushing herself against his groin.
