The Video Tape

Okay more mind games for you readers and any authors who'd like to take up the challenge. From the title of this story, you could well have got some idea what this one is going to be about, and it has been done a few times before. But I believe I've come up with a little twist that could surprise the reader and some of the folks frequently comment on these stories.

I intend to post the second part in exactly seven days, and the third part seven days after that. Anybody, who would like to pick the story at the end of this, or even at the end second chapter and run with it, I'd like to invite you to do so. But I think by the end of the second chapter the story is about told. Although my closing chapter is proving to be a real bugger to write, I can promise you.

As usual I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement. As always I'll also add that we don't always see eye to eye with each other, so I take full responsibility for the content and any cock-ups in this story.

Clarification: High Jump. British, colloquial. A drastic punishment (he's for the high jump).

*

This was bloody uncanny. It was just like the last time it happened some ten years before. The post girl had just dropped a pile of letters into my in-tray and straight away the thick package in the brown envelope had caught my eye. Just like it did the first time!

Slowly and with a trembling hand I extracted the package fearing its contents this time, not with the curiosity I'd had, of why anyone would want to send me a video that I'd had the last time. Yes, it was a video I discovered as I tore the packet open and I extracted the black plastic tape cassette from inside. A piece of paper came out with it and fell onto the desk. Picking it up, I discovered there was just two short sentences of text printed on it.

I'm sorry, some of us do have a conscience. You need to see this."

Well, that was one sentence longer than the note that came with the original tape had been. That note - that I still had in my possession - just had the words "You need to see this." printed on it.

My hand was still trembling when I dropped the cassette onto the desk and picked up the envelope again. Turning it over in my hand, I noticed that, like the original one, it didn't bear a stamp or frank mark.

"Stella!" I called out, pushing the intercom on my desk; "Can you come in here please." There was no reply but the door swung open and my secretary of the last fifteen years strode into my office.

"Yes, Tony, do you want a cup of.... Oh, my god, not again!"

Stella had spotted the tape cassette lying on my desk. She had seen the original tape ten years before and had been with me all through the repercussions that its contents had had on my life.

"Can you get on to the post room and try to find out where this came from, please, Stella?"

Stella didn't even leave the room. She picked up my phone and called the post room. I picked up the cassette and turned it over in my hands, willing it to tell me where it had come from and what sick arsehole had sent it to me, whilst Stella talked on the phone.

"It was hand delivered to the front security desk during the night," Stella said as she disconnected the call to the post room and dialled another internal number.

"Security, Stella Helligon here, Mr Bartholomew's secretary. Mr Bartholomew wants the tapes from the foyer's security cameras of the last twenty-four hours sent up to his office the moment they are changed."

There was a couple of minutes' silence as someone in security answered her.

"I don't give a damn. Copy them first if you have to, but get those original tapes up here as quickly as possible and don't make me have to come down and find them, or someone will be for the high jump." Stella slammed the telephone back down, then stood there watching me.

"Are you going to watch it now, Tony?" She asked, in a very controlled and somewhat calming voice.

"In a minute. Let's have coffee first and will you stay whilst I do, please?"

"If that's what you want, Tony."

Stella went over and turned the television on and then poured out coffee for both of us. Having done that she left my office, most likely to tell those outside that we weren't to be disturbed. I sat there and remembered watching the first tape in this same office all those years ago.

For a few moments after I'd hit the play button, the screen had remained blank. Then suddenly the picture of my bedroom at home had come on the screen. The first thing that had caught my eye was my eighteen-month-old daughter standing in her cot. Staring at the two people lying on the bed. Or should I say two naked figures lying on the bed.

The camera angle didn't give a good picture of who it was on the bed whilst they were lying down. Why should it? It had been set up to cover the cot as a nanny-cam. But you could plainly see that the man was coloured. His fingers were buried in the woman's pussy and her hand was wrapped around his penis. The woman's moans of pleasure could be plainly heard.

The woman began to move, the back of her head with it's long tresses of blond hair coming into view as she kissed her way across the man's chest. Slowly she moved down his body until she apparently took that large black cock into her mouth and then her head began to slowly bob up and down on it.

Now the man's moans of pleasure could be heard as he encouraged her to greater exertions. It was at this point that I had thrown up on my office floor because the tattoo on Emily's shoulder was clearly visible. I was watching a video of my so-called loving wife giving her black lover a blowjob.

"Here it comes," the black man could be heard saying and then "Yeah, you white slut, swallow it all."

The man's hands grabbed the back of her head and you could see him lift himself off the bed as he forced his cock further into Emily's mouth.

Emily went to try to move away from his cock, but he held her firmly there.

"No, bitch, get it hard again. I wanna fuck your little white cunt now."

For the next few minutes Emily slurped on and licked around his cock until she was apparently satisfied that it was hard enough to give her a good fucking. The man stood up with his back to the camera and pulled Emily into the kneeling position on the bed and then proceeded to fuck her doggy style.

This went on for some time before the man suddenly stopped. He obviously pulled out of Emily's pussy for a moment and then Emily shouted, "No!"

But the man replied, "Shut the fuck up, you fucking whore. I'll fuck you any fucking way I choose."

Emily screamed and cried as the black man obviously ploughed her back door. He kept at it for some time, throwing insults at her all the time he did so. He was telling her that she was his white bitch now and how she was going to service all of his friends. This carried on until it was plain to see by the way he rammed hard into her and flexed his buttocks that he was coming inside Emily's rectum.

Then the screen had gone blank.

Weirdly enough Emily had tried to deny the whole thing. I was already home that evening when she came home from work. She was upset and crying when she walked in the door and before I had a chance to challenge her, she came up with a preposterous story about the bosses at her company trying to blackmail her into becoming a company whore.

I thought it more likely that her black lover had tried to blackmail her into sleeping with his friends or even turning tricks for him. I figured that was too much for her and she'd tried to lay the blame for the whole thing on her company bosses. Why the hell she came up with that idea neither the police nor I could explain.

Emily claimed the whole thing was faked, she had never been with the black man and it wasn't her on the tape. But her tattoo was plainly visible and so was the birthmark on her lower back, just above her buttocks. And then of course she couldn't account for the fact that the film was obviously shot on our nanny cam, or that our daughter was standing in her cot watching the whole episode.

Emily persisted in her denials and was actually charged with wasting police time when she accused her bosses of faking the video. Two of her bosses threatened to sue her for defamation and slander. But Emily's solicitor managed to talk them out of it. Emily, by the time the divorce Judge had finished with her, had no money to pay any damages with.

I couldn't understand why, after she'd lost her family, her job and most of her friends over the debacle, she didn't at least charge her lover with attempted blackmail, as it obviously had to be him who sent me the tape in the first place. But then, to do that she would have had to admit that she had lied all along and that she had been having an affair with him, wouldn't she?

End of part one