Sex Lies and Video Tape

This is BTB, not a wank story. If that is what you're after you may wish to come back at a different time. THIS STORY IS FICTION: Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Sex, Lies, and Video Tape.

A short story by R.C.PeterGabriel. All rights reserved.

I tried to stifle a yawn as my coffee failed to give me the boost I was looking for. Not really its fault, I've been up for almost a day. After working, I took the redeye from Seattle to Miami with a layover in Chicago and Atlanta. If that's not bad enough, I have a return flight in just over three hours. I'm hoping to get some sleep on the way back. But, being as tired as I am, I doubt that will be an issue.

Why did I fly across the country, just to stand in a line and then fly back? I had to, so that my brother's lawyer would hand me my check. We've all been waiting over an hour, even though we had all requested to have our court-mandated restitution checks mailed to us. But, like everything else my brother has ever done, he was making it as difficult as possible for everyone else. What legal loophole they used to keep the courts from distributing the money was beyond me.

To put it bluntly, my brother is manipulative, and ... evil. A cruel, vile, putrid example of humanity. A narcissistic sociopath with tendencies toward sadistic expressions. No those aren't his actual diagnoses. Those are my opinions. He truly believes that he's entitled to whatever he wants and will endeavor to harm anyone in his way. Oh, he can act as if he feels things like sympathy, kindness, and remorse, but he's pathologically incapable. And just because he can, he pays his scum-sucking lawyers extra for them to act the same way he would. Yes, even they need a financial incentive to act as inhumanely as he likes.

On a good note, I guess this line marks the end of his lawyer's retainer as well. What a shame.

I'm really, really tired so if you didn't catch the fact that "What a shame" was spoken in sarcasm, then well, I can't help you.

Fortunately for the world, my brother DJ, believed himself more intelligent than most court-appointed psychologists. Having practiced deception from the moment he began forming words, he arrogantly proved his cold lucidity to the authorities. If he had been wiser, he would have shown himself to be a total loon, but 'pride goeth before the fall'.

Even now, he denies any wrongdoing as he stares at the pale pink walls of his 7-foot by 10-foot windowless concrete home. A home, that everyone in this line hopes he never leaves under his own power. Feet first would be our preference. But, if he ever manages to get out of prison, it will be a given that he immediately sets out to harm someone for his gain.

For years now he's used social media and sycophantic followers to push a thousand lies on the jury pool. Unlike others that have used the tactic, it didn't work as well for him. He's even been found in contempt in not one but three of his trials. Three you ask? Let's just say he's found enough people to con into paying for his appeals. That's probably the only reason I'm getting a check at all, but that's a different issue.

Why was he found in contempt? Oh, nothing as mundane as refusing to keep quiet during the proceedings. True to his typical bully persona, he claimed the judge and other court personnel lied, had their own agenda, or were too stupid to deserve the jobs they held. He even started unsuccessful recall campaigns against two of the judges.

Of course, he believed he had a right to free speech, but that right apparently only pertains to him. As proof that he feels he's above everyone else, he tried suing every person who testified against him including the prosecutor. A total waste of money but when you're getting your fees donated, why would anyone expect him to care?

Whenever a news camera or an opportunity to post on Twitter or X as it's called now, came up, he would jump at the chance to blame someone else. "I'm the victim. I never did anything to anyone that didn't want it done. The evidence is all fake, manufactured by corrupt cops and cuckolds that paid me to fulfill their wive's hidden desires." He even tried the new go-to defense of "All those images are A.I. generated". And my favorite one of all, "My brother must have gotten a used condom from my house and planted my DNA." As if I'd ever set foot in his house. Ummmm... let's call that a no.

No one seems to notice the contradicting implications of one statement he makes to the next, at least outside of court. I have no idea why anyone believes a word he says, but admittedly, I have a few more facts than his Twitter followers. And everyone knows that if it's posted online it has to be true. Right?

I'm just glad that I'll finally be able to put him behind me once I get my check. Who knew that it would only take me thirty-three years, seeing him sentenced to prison, and a class action lawsuit for that to happen?

Will I enjoy spending my winnings? Not really. More than I'm getting should have been mine years ago anyway. Yes, the courts forcing his lawyer to liquidate all of his assets and leave him without a penny is somewhat satisfying. But the middle six figures I'll have in a few moments, won't come close to paying me back for the things he's done or the anguish he's caused.

My demon-spawned big brother has done nothing but torment me from the moment of my earliest memory. Everything from putting my toys on a shelf out of my reach to physically assaulting me.

Of course, my parents were completely blind to anything he did to me or anyone else. The numerous black eyes and stolen items were explained away with pathologic proficiency. Even when he broke my collarbone and wrist, pushing me down the stairs. His defense? "I only came running when I heard him screaming that he was hurt. I was in my room until then."

Once we got home from the hospital, I was informed that I would no longer get my allowance because I had supposedly lied about my brother 'again'. Not only that but as soon as I was out of my cast, they spanked me for it! They claimed it was to ensure that I wouldn't lie anymore.

I guess it seemed to work. I learned to keep my mouth shut after that. My parents were proud that they had finally gotten me to stop lying. At the same time, my brother's belief that he could do anything to anyone and get away with it was reinforced. Yay, parenting at its best!

My entire childhood was spent hiding from him, being beaten up, teased, stolen from, or falsely accused by him. I had no intention of seeing any of my family ever again when I deliberately attended college in the opposite corner of the country.

Of course, fate would demand otherwise. At least in my brother's case, anyway.

When my parents died in a plane crash during my sophomore year, I wasn't surprised that the cause was determined to be faulty maintenance. It was well known that one of my brother's friends just happened to be an aircraft mechanic. No, there wasn't evidence that he'd 'worked on' my parent's plane but he did work in the hangar next door.

Did my brother have my parents killed? I'm almost certain of it, but I have no proof. One way or the other, it couldn't have happened to nicer people.

I was disappointed when the insurance and wrongful death settlement went to the estate instead of to my brother and me individually. Why? Because as the oldest, my brother got everything of course. Just one of the many family traditions that I will not be continuing.

Am I bitter? What the fuck do you think? Yes. Although not as much as I used to be. But, I most definitely was until the cops found the smoking gun. After that, it was a massive feeling of "Well it's about fucking time!" However, the relief and gratification took years to fully arrive. Trials, appeals, and lawsuits take time. Not to mention the actual cost. He took things from my wife and me, and a lot of other people, that you simply cannot, in any way, pay back.

What 'smoking gun' or evidence, you might ask? Obviously, the same video evidence he claimed was fake, A.I. generated or planted by myself and all of those corrupt cops that are out to get him. But, once his lawyer realized the prosecution had a slam dunk for a case, instead of taking a plea deal, my brother insisted they go on the offensive. What else would he do? He's never felt the rules applied to him.

His go-to response? Just turn things around and blame his accusers. If you blame your accusers long and loud enough, people start believing that they must be the bad guy and not you ... Right?

He made sure every video had to be shown in open court. Conveniently only having time for the edited versions. It would seem he had the right to have the jury see the evidence against him. I get it, but there is something fucked up about not making exceptions in certain cases.

Anyway, he was hoping the threat of exposing all of our wives to the embarrassment of staring in very graphic sex videos would get them to withdraw the breaking and entering, theft, fraud, wiretapping, kidnapping, administering a drug to aid a felony, sexual assault, and blackmail charges. Quite a list isn't it? And those are only the ones I can remember off the top of my head.

It almost worked. My wife and all but one of the other eleven women were waffling. Which, had us husbands stuck in between being supportive and wanting him thrown into a wood chipper.

Ironically, it was my brother's ego that did him in.

Not his first mistake, but he thought he would garner more sympathy if all of the evidence were already online and showing him as a sought-after stud instead of a manipulative serial rapist.

Once the media found out all of our wives were already porn stars, they had nothing left to lose. They were more determined than ever to put my brother behind bars. I was still leaning towards the wood chipper, but you can't have everything.

How you might ask, would mine or anyone's wife being recorded having consensual sex put my brother in prison? How about asking, why would we still be married to women known to fuck someone else on camera? The answer is the same for both questions. Well, in all but one case anyway. Unfortunately, one couple couldn't keep their marriage together. And eight others are in counseling. Yeah, bro, that's on you too.

All of the videos are now public record. You can have copies made for the low-low cost of a 512 gig jump drive, and the time it takes to fill out the request form. That's right, he had almost three-hundred-fifty hours of edited spank bank put into evidence. That doesn't count the rest of the footage from the nearly three hundred remote cameras that didn't get sold to porn sights. I'm told that collectively, he had nearly forty years of illegally obtained private, but non-sexual material.

So anyway, the answer to both questions can be found easily enough. But, I won't go into detail about what happened to the other couples. All of their situations were similar to ours anyway, other than my being related to human dysentery, that is.

My demented sibling decided early on that manipulation required knowledge. Thus, he set out to learn all that he could about the security business. Locks, cameras, audio, alarms, and his crowning glory ... synthesized voices. Once he had a person's recorded voice, he would feed it into a computer and make it seem that the original person was saying anything he wanted.

Why was I even in this situation? After all, I had moved to Seattle to get as far from him as I could. Well, do you remember me mentioning fate?

It just so happened, that I crossed the entire country to meet the love of my life. Coincidently, so had she. She grew up in Palm Beach. Miami for me. We both transferred to Keiser but moved to Boynton Beach, to be close to her grandmother who seemed to be failing. Amy and I knew we were destined to be together so I didn't hesitate. Why would I? I figured the odds of running into my brother were less than slim. I couldn't have been more wrong.

What even I couldn't have dreamt, was that 'you know who', used wedding announcements to target his victims. He would search out the youngest and most attractive women, and then start to work. Between social media and dark web searches, finding his next conquest wasn't hard. Within minutes he would have more than enough information to move on to phase two of his playbook, assuming the couple had enough money to fulfill his MO.

He would stalk the couple, wait for the husband to be out, and then forcibly break in. Making sure the wife just happened to discover him, at which point he would take only what was convenient, but threaten to come back and kill her if she called the cops.

The point? To cause terror, of course. That, and to plant a bug.

Once the bug was in place, he would listen to see if the police were called, or if the woman was too scared. Usually, the police were called only after the husband returned. Several times they were only called after they needed a case number to file the insurance. Once the report was filed, DJ would wait a day and call the couple to set up an appointment for a free estimate on a security system. It was an easily acceptable lie to tell them that he had gotten their information from the police report.

If they hired him, he'd fill their house with two dozen hidden HD cameras and mics. If they opted out, he would make sure the house was broken into again. The only way he would give up the quest would be if the couple opted for a different security system.

Once the system was in place, he'd study the couple's every nuance. Paying special attention to their lovemaking and pillow talk. Since all of us were newlyweds, we were far more likely to be experimental. And once the fantasies started to be discussed, he'd be there to fulfill them. Always when the husband was away, of course. He would wait for the wife to fall asleep and lightly dose her with chloroform and a more liberal dose of liquid ecstasy.

That allowed him to restrain her to the bed and blindfold her. By the time the chloroform wore off, the ecstasy would be kicking in. He'd then use her husband's synthesized voice to make her think her husband was fulfilling their fantasy.

Once he was inside her he'd tell her that he wasn't her husband and that her husband had hired him to fuck her on camera. Some got into it, while others were resistant. But due to the drug, it wouldn't be long before they all accepted their situation with enthusiasm.

Being the sicko that he is, meant that the resistant ones were the ones he was after. He would return to the ones that were willing, but not very often. Anyway, the blackmail would start very quickly with the resistant ones. And of course, the more they submitted to his demands the more he would have on them to blackmail with.

Of course, seeing my wedding announcement was the ultimate turn-on for him. He pulled out all the stops, he even hired an outsider for all of the interactions with us. And since his name wasn't part of the company's name, I had no idea who we were dealing with. Long story, short, he had his claws at my throat again. Only this time I was clueless.

As for my wife, Amy loves to get her back scratched. Well in truth, any part of her. Her skin is very sensitive and light scratching can be orgasmic on its own. At the very least, she considers it foreplay. I've never failed to get inside her after scratching for ten or fifteen minutes.

That being the case, when I was overheard suggesting that she liked getting scratched so much that any guy who knew her secret could get in her pants, he had his plan. It wasn't a week later that I was headed off to work when it happened for the first time.

He didn't even bother knocking her out. He synthesized my voice while she was still in the shower. She was told that I changed my mind about work and called in to spend time together.

She was told to shave herself bald, which was new for us. Personally, I like her neatly trimmed but the fucker had to take that from me too. It didn't take much to convince her that it was for the extra kink I had planned. He told her that when she finished, she should drink the juice left for her on the sink, dry, and then proceed to the bedroom.

When she came out, she saw the leather hood lying on the bed with a note to put it on. She did and found that it fit snugly over her head, and fastened around her neck, but left her chin, mouth, and nose exposed.

With her eyes covered and who she thought was me giving her instructions, he handcuffed her wrists to the loop behind her neck. Now naked and restrained he began to gently scratch her back.

Her sighing, moaning, and sharp inhales started immediately. He was soon including her thighs, hips, and arms. Her nipples were already puckering by the time her cuffs were fastened, but they visibly extended when he drew his nails along her side boob.

I had to give him credit. He was patient. By the time the Ecstasy began to take effect, she would have been begging anyway. He led her to the end of the bed and had her lay with her ass at the edge. Then he shackled her ankles high and wide to the tops of the pillars on our four-poster bed frame.

Her pussy was visibly drooling by that point, and her pleading was becoming desperate. Still using my voice he started prompting her with reminders of how I'd bet that any man could have her if he scratched her first. As he ate her, he would pause every minute or so to have her imagine it wasn't me eating her. He even told her to think of how my brother, my most hated enemy, could pleasure her if he knew her secret.

The video presented to the court was edited expertly. The two-hour video showed no less than five camera angles of her body and face responding to his prompts. She was writhing and meeting his fingers thrust for thrust while she begged to be fucked. That was when he explained in my voice that I'd only been watching. That in truth it was actually my brother that was going to feed his cock into her. She, of course, thought it was all just role play and begged him to take her.

The defense paused the video to comment on her passionate cries of "Yes! Yes! Fuck me DJ! Cum in me, PLEASE!" and point out how his actions couldn't possibly be considered rape. Those same comments were made during the display of every one of our wives' rapturous encounters. Most of the time the prosecutor would object, pointing out again and again that the victims had believed they were with their husbands. On several occasions, the victim would become outraged and unable to restrain their outbursts. the judge tried to be patient with them but several recesses and warnings of contempt were ultimately required.

The entire time DJ smirked arrogantly. I even noticed him squirming and rubbing his crotch with a hooded expression several times during many of the videos. I highly suspect he was cumming right there in court.

To her credit, Amy never once looked at the monitors. She sat staring at my vile brother with utter disgust and contempt. The only time she took her eyes off the object of her hatred was to answer a question from the judge or one of the lawyers.

If it hadn't been for the prosecution team presenting much of the edited-out portions of videos DJ probably would have gotten away with everything ... again. Instead, they showed him giving instructions to the wives in their husband's voice. They were told the encounters were never to be mentioned, not even to the husband. That way when they happened again, it would be a surprise and therefore kinkier.

During each of their second or third encounters, the wives had their masks removed while in the throes of passion. While the mask came off, DJ would be playing a recording for the wife, supposedly from the husband, explaining that the husband was recording the playtime. That the husband was enjoying the thought of his wife being so thoroughly pleasured. That the husband would love knowing she would be fucking her lover and recording it for him. But he didn't want her to discuss it with him. The recordings wouldn't be given to the husband until they could amass a large enough library of their time together. That he would be waiting in secret agony until they presented him with their gift. This was what he wanted, and if she loved him, she would make him happy.