A Risy Game

You ever have one of those days when nothing goes right?

We were losing. My wife, Anne, stood by my side. I could feel her hand tighten on my shoulder as our fortunes dwindled with each roll of the dice. Unless that bitch, Lady Luck, provided a miracle we were doomed. It would not be long now.

We were one of six couples playing in the annual Risk board game charity tournament. The couples were selected for their physical attractiveness and their willingness to tempt fate for possible financial reward. Each of the three winning couples would split between $80,000 and $100,000 with the Charity that sponsored the tournament. For that much money, many would consider the reward worth quite a risk. Anne and I certainly did.

As for the three losing couples, their fate was the same as in ancient history when a conqueror overwhelmed a weaker neighbor. The losing couple would be immediately plundered, pillaged, and publically humiliated by a winning couple. The losers would have to pay a hefty ransom to eventually escape their from their ruined status. The broken losers provided manna for the winners and the Charity and titillating amusement for the crowd.

Oh well, nothing ventured; nothing gained. The six couples were locked in a desperate contest trying to be sure not to be among the three losers.

There were about three hundred by-invitation-only spectators who had paid the Charity $200 each to attend the gala spectacle. They were there to enjoy watching the fate of the losers and not really to observe a board game. The game simply provided the drama leading up to the fate meted out to each losing couple.

The crowd spent most of its time at the bar and at the caterer's venue during the actual game-play. As the afternoon wore on and more liquor was consumed, the crowd became rowdier. They would have been right at home at a Roman arena watching prisoners of a conquering Roman army being spitted or fed to wild beasts.

The game was played on a stage with tiers of plush seats providing a good view of the action. The players clustered around the game board at center stage. Cameras projected the game board on a large screen for all to watch. Microphones captured all the audio.

The pretend battles raged across the board as each couple strove for survival and destruction of their neighbors. Anne and I were off to a good start in the game and had a solid position. We were feeling optimistic we would make it to the winner's circle. Lady luck was riding with us.

Fairly quickly, the couple that composed the green team wiped out the yellow team and secured a potentially dominant overall position.

The first victims were at hand. There would be an intermission while the yellow-team couple met their fate at the hands of the victorious green-team couple. The other four couples departed the stage and were escorted to a waiting room downstairs with an outdoor patio and garden. A waitress from the bar got drinks for all of us in the waiting room. Gales of laughter, cheers, and applause roared from upstairs as the fate of the yellow team couple amused the crowd. The yellow team must be catching hell up there judging from the crowd noise

Anne and I sipped our drinks and chatted with the other three couples making nervous small talk. After a spell, we wandered out in the garden. It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon and the springtime flowers were in bloom. Bees busily buzzed from flower to flower, and a flowery perfume wafted over us as we walked and talked.

Alone now, we could review the status of the game as we debated strategy. Overall things looked pretty good. As it stood now, we were probably somewhat weaker than the green team but probably stronger than the other three. We were smug about finishing in one of the top three positions.

After a little over an hour we were called back upstairs to continue the game. The green couple was flying high. They had enjoyed extracting their pound of flesh from the losing yellow couple who had now disappeared. The greens had just pocketed $50,000 as had the Charity. They now had the strongest position of the remaining players and seemed fated to be among the sure winners. Victory, wealth, and deadent pleasures were at their fingertips.

Treachery! Oh, "perfidious Albion!" We have been deceived.

The three couples that had been downstairs with us turned on the green couple en mass. They had formed a secret cabal behind our backs while we strolled in the garden during the intermission. The cabal set out to destroy the strongest player, the greens, and then would no doubt turn on Anne and me. The members of the secret cabal would be the surviving three tournament winners if something didn't change.

Green went down in defeat quickly with the Red couple administering the coup de grace. The green couple's wife wept hysterically at her coming fate, and her husband looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a tractor trailer. All they had won from yellow would now be forfeit to red who would share it with the cabal.

Alas, "what is past is but prologue to the future."

We returned downstairs leaving the green couple to suffer the same fate they had joyously meted out to yellow shortly before. The crowd loved the turn of events. The noise was deafening as yellow abused and humiliated the green couple for the crowd's entertainment.

The lengthy second intermission was terrifying. Anne and I could feel the sword of Damocles hovering over our heads.

While the cabal was busy destroying the couple playing green, Anne and I had strengthened and expanded our position. But facing three enemies, the strategic situation was ultimately hopeless. We tried to bribe the two couples of the cabal that were downstairs with us to switch to our side. I even offered them the full use of my wife. They just smiled and shook their heads no as they gazed at us like we were prey. We settled for two strong drinks as we contemplated our suddenly bleak position.

The second intermission was over.

"O fortune, fortune! All men call thee fickle." The fates had abandoned us.

The audience recognized Anne and I were now carrion for the victors. We would be the next victims. The crowd stomped and jeered with growing excitement as our enemies circled like vultures, ripping one country after another from our beleagured armies.

We struggled valiantly, but against three it was hopeless. Tom and Betty, playing the blue pieces, crushed our last holdout armies and took charge of our fate. We were the last losing couple and our fate would be the finale on center stage.

The game table and chairs were quickly moved off stage, and the barbaric games began. Cameras projected closeups of the action on large screens and microphones were arranged to catch the slightest gasp of pain or dismay. The Charity wanted to ensure the paying audience did not miss any of the titillating show that we were about to provide. DVDs of it all would be available for purchase from the Charity afterwards.

Tom and Betty played last year and lost and were back this year to recoup their losses. They knew the ropes of the upcoming entertainment venue well, very well indeed.

The plundering began as I handed over the certified cashiers check for $20,000 required from each losing couple. The check, like all payments associated with the tournament was made out to the Charity so, of course, it was tax deductible. Tom and Betty would ultimately get half of our check, and the other half would go to the Charity. Tom waved the check over his head in triumph to the cheers of the crowd.

Next began the public humiliation of the losers by the winners. Tom teasingly stripped my wife while Betty did the same to me in front of the whistling and cheering audience. Anne loves to wear skimpy bikinis when we visit beaches where we do not know anyone, That always made me wonder if my wife was a closet exhibitionist but was just too shy to let that side of her come out around friends and family. Well, she was certainly out there in the public view today. We were paraded around the stage and up and down the aisles for all to gawk at our nakedness and jeer.

It was now time to scourge the husband for the crowd's amusement. Betty addressed me, "John, turn your backside to the audience, bend over with your hands on your knees, and look at your wife."

My wife, Anne, made eye contact and smiled trying to encourage me. Tom made her stand with her hands at her sides, completely exposed in her nakedness to the heated gaze of the audience.

Betty twirled an oval black leather paddle to catch my attention and let my eyes dwell on its menacing appearance. The grip of the paddle looked smooth and worn.

Five excited young women trooped over single file and stood in a line by my wife, all of them smiling expectantly at me. The women had won the lottery drawing to publically spank me on stage.

Betty handed the paddle to the first woman in line, a petite little blond. She whooped and happily skipped around behind me giggling with excitement. The first blow made me gasp. Who knew a little thing like that could wield such a vicious paddle. Encouraged by shouts and cheers from the audience, the devilish little blonde wound up and put her second blow on exactly the same place as before, only harder. I grunted in pain.

The remaining women took their turns of two whacks each. Wildly encouraged and cheered on by the audience, the women enthusiastically thrashed my bare bottom without mercy. They were all giggling and laughing so hard, it was a wonder they didn't pee in their pants.

As the five women danced off stage to the cheers of the audience, I was bent over ignoring everything but my burning butt. Anne gave me a thoughtful look. Then she glanced at Betty and nodded. I missed the significance of both the look and the nod.

Betty slipped behind me and suddenly struck my naked rear. The thwack of the blow resounded through the whole room and silenced the audience. They then breathed out a collective "ooh." I jumped, and a yelp escaped from me. That blow was far harder than anything before.

Betty had mentioned when we were chatting before the tournament started that she was an avid tennis player. Judging from the blow she just delivered to my bare ass, she must have a devastating forehand. I looked at her. Her lips were parted in a sadistic smile, and her eyes glittered with excitement. She was thoroughly enjoying this.

In this corporal punishment phase of the husband's humiliation, the ten blows by the lottery winners and the first five by Betty were mandatory. Now we owed the the Charity $20,000. Each new spanking from Betty was worth $1,000. If I went 20 blows, we owed nothing. If I went 10, then we owed $10,000 and so on. The losing wife decided how many blows her husband had to endure. It was in her hands alone to weigh her husband's pain against the money she would have to pay out. It was a diabolical mind game to torture the wife and the husband. The wife was caught between a rock and a hard place, and the husband was the painful victim of whatever she decided.

My wife nodded to Betty again. This blow stung worse than the first, if that was possible. Betty was putting all her strength into each blow and grunted with the effort. We finished the fifth blow from Betty and now were at the critical sixth one. The sooner Anne called it off, the more money we had to pay. Betty spared not the rod on my backside as the sooner we capitulated the more money she and Tom and the Charity made. This posed a dilemma for my wife. Should she rescue her husband from his agony or choose to save filthy lucre for their future?

After the mandatory five blows from betty, I was ready to cave and give them all $20,000; hell, give them more. Anything to make it stop. I looked at Anne with pleading eyes, but I was forbidden to speak.

Anne shook her head no at me and mouthed, "I am sorry." She looked at Betty and nodded.

This was not a spanking; it was an out-and-out butt stomping. By eight blows, I was completely unmanned, stomping my feet in desperation while crying and squealing like a ten-year old girl. My distressed behavior elicited howls of laughter and catcalls from the audience. Betty was grinning with delight at my pain and frantic antics each time she applied her paddle to my naked posterior. The audience cheered and whistled wildly at each blow.

Anne continued to gaze enigmatically into my eyes and nodded to Betty after each blow to continue until we reached twenty-five from Betty. I relaxed, gasping. I had made it, somehow.

Betty's surprise blow to my exposed butt was the hardest yet and drove me to my knees. "And one to grow on," Betty called out laughing. The audience roared in appreciation of the trite old childhood birthday party adage. Even Anne gave a smirky smile.

I was sobbing in pain, and my ass was a bright cherry red. My whole butt would soon be a colorful piece of modern art featuring deep hues of red, black, blue, and yellow.

I was furious with Anne. Damn cheapskate wife. But now the tables were turned. She was about to take center stage.

A bed was wheeled out to center stage, and we were led to the bed. Anne laid down and spread her legs. Betty and I stood alongside the bed at Anne's head.

Tom removed his clothes and moved to Anne. Knowing what was expected, Anne turned and grabbed Tom's dick, took it deeply in her mouth, and began pumping enthusiastically accompanied by whistles and cheers from the crowd.

Betty finally declared, "Let's do her." She turned to me saying, "Hold your wife down," The tournament rules required the losing husband to hold the wife down during the rape by the victorious husband.

Tom stood Anne by the side of the bed and then had her lay face down, half-on and half-off the bed. He took his time positioning himself behind my wife and then spread her legs wide. I reached over, and my wife and I locked hands around one another's forearms. In this position I was facing my wife from maybe a foot away. Over her shoulder I could see a grinning Tom watching me as he prepared to enjoy my wife. Anne took a deep breath and gave me a nervous smile and a wink.

Tom entered Anne slowly and deliberately, heightening Anne's anticipation of what was to come. I could judge the progress of Tom's dick into my wife as Anne's grip on my forearm steadily tightened and her eyes slowly widened and seemed to almost glow. Excited little oh, oh, ohs trickled out of her mouth. Tom pushed fully into her, and Anne gave a soft, drawn-out groan of pleasure, dropping her head and arching her back to push her pelvis back into Tom.

Tom stared at me with amusement. Betty chuckled as she whispered to me, "Oh, that wife of yours is about to get a fine fucking!" The previously boisterous crows went quiet as they waited expectantly for my wife to get royally fucked by Tom.

My wife and Tom began the ancient sexual rhythm of thrust and heave, steadily picking up the pace. Anne was steadily grunting guttural "ungh, unghs" in cadence with Tom's robust thrusts. Through Anne's grip I could feel each thrust into her and sense her rising tide of pleasure. It was as though I was being fucked too but without the pleasure Anne was experiencing. The crowd noise was building as the copulating couple sped their efforts.

Anne was soon approaching orgasm. Her grip on my arm was painfully tight. She raised her head; her wild flashing eyes were unfocused. She was off in a distant land and did not even note my presence anymore. Her cries were now a repeated series of frenzied almost incoherent "Oh yes, oh, oh, please, yes, yes."

The orgasm pulsated through Anne in series of mighty contractions eliciting a squeal of primordial delight from her. The crowd cheered and whistled.

But Tom was indefatigable, and his fucking of my wife never slackened. He leaned forward to put his hands on her shoulders to pull himself ever deeper into Anne with each stroke. The slap-slap of my wife and Tom's flesh thundered to a new crescendo. I was hearing it all in stereo as the microphones broadcast every sound all around. The crowd was now screaming and stomping its feet in excitement.

Anne was desperate now, frantically heaving and bucking as she howled in ecstacy. Finally Tom came with a loud roar and a vigorous thrust to deposit his sperm deep inside my wife.

Anne came again with a series of quivering shakes and a long, drawn out squeal of delight. As the orgasm hammered her, Anne tightened her grip unbearably and dug her fingernails deeply into my arm, drawing trickles of blood. Finally, her eyes fluttered open She gazed at me, slowly refocusing and coming back to earth. She gave me a weak smile, 'Oh Honey, that was really something."

Hearing that over the microphones, the already cheering crowd really wild.

Tom withdrew from her and gave Anne a resounding slap on her upraised ass and called out loudly, "Next" as he strode off.

The slap elicited a sharp "ouch" from my startled wife. She sat up on the bed and around.

Anne glanced back over at me with a smile, "Oh Honey, I think I am in for quite a ride!"

I followed her gaze to the side of the stage. There were the five nude male lottery winners from the audience. They had won the opportunity to continue the gang rape my wife. There was obviously a qualifying criteria to enter the lottery as all five were beefy, young men who were hung like stud stallions. I was looking at a half ton of raw, naked maleness that was all but pawing the ground in anticipation of slaking its lust in my dainty 120-lb wife. The first one was already trotting over to the cheers of the crowd to claim his piece of my wife's ass as his lottery prize.

Anne laughed excitedly, laying back on the bed and throwing her arms back over her head for me to hold per the game rules. As her new lover approached, she spread her legs wide with a loud, challenging "Come on big boy. Show me what you can do." The crowd roared its approval of my wife's sporting spirit.

My wife sent each of the first four muscular studs back off stage with a wilted cock and a grin of satisfaction, as she enthusiastically welcomed each follow-on stud between her thighs.

The fifth stud started fucking my wife, then laughed, withdrew his dick from her, and stood up. He cried out "You are too slippery. It's been a superhighway down there. Roll over, we'll go in the back door."

The audience cheered. My wife complied slowly. She was nervous and looked at me with worried eyes. We had never done anal sex before.

The fifth stud liberally applied lubricant to his dick, and then began lubricating and massaging my wife's asshole. Anne squirmed uncomfortably as he entered her, but within a minute or so, she was a convert, whooping encouragements to her final lover as he reamed her ass. He gave a mighty groan as he ejaculated in my wife's ass, and she screeched in happy response. I think something new was just added to our bedroom repertoire.

Thus ended the final rape phase of the game. We stood up to cheers and applause from the crowd. Anne did a formal bow to the audience which brought them up in a standing ovation. Aides then led us, still naked, down below the stage to the locker rooms. There I showered, dressed in fresh clothes, and was escorted to a conference room where a refreshed and dressed Anne joined me about twenty minutes later.

Anne dropped into a chair with a contented sigh. She laughed lightly, "Well, that was certainly something to remember." She cut her eyes at me coyly and teased "After all of that fine fucking, your wife can hardly waddle!"

A waitress from the bar stuck her head in, murmured "Wow, what a show" and graced us with a knowing smile and a wink. She took our drink orders and returned shortly with two double Knob Creek bourbons for me and two Hendricks gin and tonics for Anne, compliments of the house.