I sat on the floor. No, let me correct myself, I crumbled to a sitting position on the floor. I felt like I had been gut punched and had my legs swept out from under me.
I looked around my living room. Eight big muscle bound naked guys. My wife was tied up on the couch. Her legs spread wide. Her arms tied behind her back. She had a big vibrator, I think they are called a Hitachi, buzzing her pussy. She was so wet, her inner thighs glistened. She was quivering and shaking and moaning, right up until she saw me. Then her tone switched to a panicked wail.
The big tattooed guy walked up to me, his cock waving obscenely as he moved. I finally realized he was talking to me.
"Dude, fucking get with it. Do you want to talk to her in the other room before we begin, or do you want to watch. Your choice dude. Give me an answer or we will just get started. You can even take a turn or two."
I managed to nod my head and I muttered "I want to talk"
Two guys quickly untied her legs, unplugging the vibrator. They picked her up and carried her into the kitchen. I followed, staggering to keep my equilibrium.
The two guys that carried her in left my wife, me and the big naked tattooed guy in the kitchen. My wife was sitting naked on the counter beside the sink. The big guy pulled the ball gag from her mouth.
"Babe, this isn't what it looks like, let me explain" she blurted out.
"This is gonna be good!" said the naked guy as he grabbed my bottle of Silver Patron from the glass cabinet. He poured me a shot and one for himself. Then he put the bottle up to my wife's mouth and poured until it ran down her face and chest.
"Go ahead and tell him what a good little slut you are for me" he said and pinched her nipple and licked from the other nipple up her neck and chin.
The shock of walking in my house and seeing the scene that greeted me was wearing off, and was rapidly being replaced by anger. Pure gut wrenching, make you want to puke and hit something anger.
"Get out. I want to talk with her alone" I barked. For a second I thought that he was going to punch my lights out, but then he chuckled. "Sure, just don't take too long, these guys aren't known for their patience, and the drunker they get the harder they fuck."
He grabbed the Patron and left. I watched him leave with my $200 prized bottle of tequila.
I took in the scene before me in disbelief. My tanned and toned beautiful dark haired wife was naked with her arms tied behind her back and her cunt was red, swollen and dripping wet. Her pert tits jiggled slightly as she sobbed.
"What the fuck is going on?" I demanded.
"I was being blackmailed, babe you have to believe me. I wouldn't do this to you, but he blackmailed me. I had no choice, no choice at all. " She wailed and began to cry.
"Tell me what the fuck is going on now or I walk out, now!" I shouted at her. I tossed the shot of Tequila back. A slow burn, but smooth.
She was crying and looking at me, pleading, "Don't leave, they'll fuck me. All of them. Everywhere. Don't leave please! Please " and then she was crying again.
"Start talking, and you better make some sense of this." I responded back, fully aware that she knew there was no way the night was going to end without her taking multiple loads of their cum.
She pulled herself together, a bit. " Do you remember when you went to Seattle and when you came back, I told you someone did a hit and run with our suburban?"
I nodded.
"I lied, I was out with Fran and Tam and Lucy at the bar just up the road from our place. We all got a bit drunk. I had to get home, but the girls wanted to stay and party. I know I shouldn't have, but I decided to drive. I backed over Dean's bike. Dean was the big guy you were talking to."
She looked at me to gauge my reaction, I guess. I was beginning to get a really sick feeling in my stomach. I grabbed the small bottle of Jose down and poured another shot.
"Go on" I said
Dean came out and saw his bike, and saw me. He told me that as I was drunk my insurance wouldn't cover me for the accident. Driving drunk was a minimum 3 months prison in this state. Then he started calling the police.
She started crying. "I told him to stop." She wailed on for a moment longer. " He did, he stopped. He stopped and asked me why? How was I to going to pay to get his bike fixed? It also needed a tow to his shop. I said I could pay for the repairs. Just send me the bills. He explained it was a custom bike. Entirely hand built, by him. It was all his work that put it together. How could he put a price on his labor?" She sobbed.
"I paid the tow bill to his shop. He showed me pictures of his bike and offers he had received on it at shows. The bike was worth over $80,000. He was putting prices for parts together and it was more than $12,000 in parts alone. We don't have that kind of money. He wanted to contact you. He said he would beat it out of you if you didn't pay up. You'd have to sell everything we owned practically." She whimpered.
"So what happened?" I asked. "what did you do? "
She cried again. Loud body wracked sobs. Then she took a deep breath. " We negotiated" there was a long pause. "He said most of what I wrecked could be fixed by his labor. We could work out a different arrangement for that if I did payments for the parts." She let that sink in.
A lightbulb went off in my head. "You traded sex for his labor?" She nodded.
I collapsed to my knees. I knocked my glass over and it shattered.