The Wife Games

FADE UP:

TITLE CARD.

Bright graphics.

Blue sky. Dazzling white beach. Palm-fringed coasts circle a little Pacific paradise surrounded by ocean.

Strange structures protrude from its lush peaks:

A circus tent.

A glassy gymnasium.

A studio soundstage.

The characterless office tower of a major world bank.

A giant bronze statue of three entwined lovers.

And a forbidding, domed medieval prison.

Nothing on the island fits together. None of it makes sense.

SENSUAL MUSIC underscores everything, until --

The CRACK of a gunshot.

Blood spatters the screen.

A title blasts over:

CHAPTER 1:

THE GAMES BEGIN

Rakesh Vaibhav sipped the cold bottle of San Pellegrino that the pretty assistant had handed him.

The couch was comfortable -- everything in this nicely appointed green room was -- but his knee wouldn't stop bouncing up and down in his seat. Rakesh was nervous.

Twenty minutes ago, his wife, Diana, had gone backstage to get made up and into her "outfit".

They were seconds away from starting.

His eyes flickered about the room. For the umpteenth time, they landed on the vase of red flowers on the low coffee table. They were double-bloom Alsatian gerberas, a rare and peculiar species of daisy that he had nonetheless identified in an instant. Their presence here, in a studio green room in Burbank, California, mystified Rakesh. He felt an odd, prickly unease down the nape of his neck.

The pretty blonde assistant came back, clutching her clipboard.

"Rakesh?" she said with a smile. "We're ready for you."

He took a last swig of sparkling water, wishing it had been a tequila shot. He got up and followed her.

"I'm Chloe, by the way," she said, turning and shaking his hand with a smile.

"Nice to meet you," Rakesh replied. He realized it had come out as a croak. He was on edge. He still couldn't help but admire the puckishly attractive woman in front of him, wearing a tight green dress that ended where her thighs began. Her tousled blonde hair was pinned back by a headset-microphone.

"It's so fucking rad that you're doing this," she said, continuing to walk. "Your wife is very lucky."

His eyes moved down to Chloe's shapely ass as she walked ahead of him. Its thick apple silhouette was evident through the thin material of her short dress. She was clearly wearing a

G-string or a thong, one of Rakesh's favorite pieces of underwear to see Diana in. Was he going to see his wife in a thong tonight, he wondered? And he wondered other things...

Somehow his nerves must have rattled down to his crotch, because he realized that despite his heart beating eighty miles a minute, he was growing hard inside his jeans.

"Uh, so, the flowers in the green room," he said, attempting a casual tone. "Did they bring them in specially? I know they're very hard to find. They're my wife's favorites, so every Valentine's..."

He trailed off as they rounded the corner to the flats behind the stage. He could suddenly see the bright stage lights piercing through. Worse, he could hear the murmur of a full audience.

Chloe

shh

'ed him with a friendly smile and led him to two other men, waiting there. Rakesh thought they looked just as nervous as he felt.

One was a skinny white man, perhaps in his early thirties, with neatly combed hair and a Wall Street haircut. His button-down shirt was tucked into his slacks.

The other was a shorter, stocky man with a large paunch, somewhere around forty-five. He was in a t-shirt and jeans, with shaggy hair and a close-cropped beard.

Rakesh nodded hello. They nodded back.

He didn't want to look down to check, but he wondered if they were just as excited as he was.

Chloe touched his arm and smiled at him.

"Don't be nervous," she whispered. "You're gonna have fun..." She bit her lip. "I hope."

She snuck a glance down at his bulging crotch.

"At least, I'm sure he's gonna have fun," she said with a wink. Rakesh blushed furiously.

Music boomed. A rumble of bass and a sexy, driving drumline shook the whole room. Applause broke out as the lights dimmed. And then came the thundering sound of the announcer over the speakers.

"Welcome to the filthiest, sexiest, most popular adult show streaming everywhere in the world..."

Spotlights circled and crossed, out over the stage. Rakesh craned to get a view through the stage wings.

The audience cheered, some of them shouting along with the announcement. The show clearly had rabid fans. So many people were going to watch this live, Rakesh thought. And even more at home.

"Featuring the naughtiest women from around the planet, living out their hottest fantasies..."

Rakesh involuntarily mouthed along himself. After all, he'd watched this show a hundred times, privately, masturbating to it on countless nights when his wife was fast asleep.

"With their husbands right by their side..."

Only tonight, Rakesh was going to be a part of the show... and so was his wife Diana.

"It's... The Wife Games!"

Music blasted. The two hosts came out to thunderous applause. The lights rose to a full wash.

"

Who's feeling naughty tonight?

" Jessica, the hostess of the show, asked. She had a stunning face, framed by long, brownish-blonde hair. "I said, who's feeling naughty tonight?!"

The audience cheered massively. The three large screens around the studio captured her hourglass figure as she strutted to centerstage on black heels. Jessica's taut, flat midriff was visible below a white crop-top that clung to her large breasts, and her gorgeous legs stuck out below the tiniest of black leather skirts. She smiled as she posed, drawing more applause.

"Well, then, you're in for a goddamn treat," Chris chimed in. Her co-host was a handsome man in his thirties, in a tight black suit. His deltoids bulged in the designer fabric, and the tailored pants hugged his meaty thighs and crotch. He strode over and put his arm around Jessica's waist. "Because at The Wife Games, we get positively fuckin' filthy! Ain't that right, sweetie?"

He turned to Jessica. She kissed him full on the lips. The audience cheered as their mouths opened and their tongues explored each other. She rubbed her curvy body over Chris's form. He cupped and squeezed her thick ass through her tight skirt.

When they pulled away to loud applause, Jessica held up her left hand, turning it and wiggling her fingers towards the audience. The diamond on her ring finger sparkled in the studio lights.

"Now that, ladies and gentlemen," she said. "Is how you kiss your husband!"

Chris laughed. "If you're one of the sexiest hot-wives in the world, that is!" He smacked her perfect rump.

"So, hubby," Jessica said, "Let's tell these horny folks how the show works."

Rakesh listened from behind the stage, but his mind was only half-processing what they were saying.

He knew how the show worked already, of course: Over three torrid days, three sexy wives from around the world would compete in a series of increasingly intense challenges while their husbands watched or, if necessary, participated. If either the wives or husbands wanted to quit at any point, they could, and that would be the end of their run on the show.

"Each naughty challenge will net the couples

points

," Chris was explaining. "And at the end of Day One - the pair with the fewest points is

going home

!"

The audience loosed a bellicose cheer. Any other time, Rakesh would have joined in their pure excitement. Now, his thrill was tempered with a shudder.

He knew that with every show they altered the challenges to keep the contests fresh. He had also noted that the games seemed to get more and more risqué with each new episode.

"On Day Two, the challenges for our remaining couples get even

nastier

..."

"Sending one more home after a surprise challenge with some

very

special... secret guests."

"More on that later!" laughed Jessica, drawing an anticipatory groan from the audience.

"Leaving just one daring couple standing... for Day Three... and the

Climax Royale

!"

The audience applauded rambunctiously.

Rakesh was familiar with this culminating segment. The couple that made it to the last day would compete in a no-holds-barred challenge that, when Rakesh watched the show in the private darkness of his bedroom, would sometimes make him cum just from hearing Jessica describe what was going to happen...

And now, beginning tonight... his own wife was going to be doing these challenges.

His mind was racing as he wondered what she was thinking, right at that moment. What was he going to feel when she walked out on stage in the revealing outfit they had picked for her? Would they even make it to the Climax? Would Diana or Rakesh lose their nerve and quit, right at the first challenge?

Or would they win the Grand Prize - the thing they said had brought them there in the first place?

For a major reason, they both desperately wanted to win...

"The husband and wife who make it through the Climax Royale... will win our incredible Grand Prize... of

one million dollars!

" Chris said, drawing applause.

The shaggy-haired man near Rakesh whistled softly. The Games had increased the prize money.

"That is unless

,

" Jessica interrupted the cheering crowd. "Any wife, at any point, pulls on her Secret Ripcord..."

Rakesh's frown creased deeper. He'd almost forgotten about the Ripcords. After all, in the entire history of the show as far as he could remember, they had never actually been

used

...

"Now who's ready to meet our sexy wives?!" Chris asked rhetorically.

The audience applauded. Rakesh's heart banged faster. He cast an apprehensive look at the two men beside him. The clean-cut one smiled back weakly, obviously just as nervous. The bearded fortysomething looked a little less shaken, craning his neck in anticipation of his wife.

"Then please welcome, all the way from Portland, Oregon... she's a teaching assistant in Feminist Studies at Oregon State University - Daisey Monet!"

From his side view, Rakesh could see the entrance at the other side of the stage slide open. Somewhere back there was his wife, Diana, who would soon step out to the views of the cameras and the world, as a "hotwife"...

A lithely framed white woman in her mid-twenties stepped out of the doors, waving with febrile excitement at the cheering crowd. She was pretty and petite, with short black hair, in a casual tank-top and high denim shorts.

"And let's welcome her husband," Jessica said, prompting the young man near Rakesh to step towards the slats. He was visibly quaking. "Kevin Monet!"

Kevin stepped out and waved at the audience as they applauded. He went over and joined Daisey. She pecked him on the lips, and they stood with their arms around each other.

"Excited, Daisey?" Jessica asked.

"Oh! So excited," Daisey said. She had an affected, bubbly way of speaking. Rakesh found it inexplicably annoying. "Hotwifing is my way of rebelling against the patriarchy, and I can't wait to win the grand prize for my babe."

"Ah! So that's what it's about for you. And Kevin, how are you feeling? Ready to see your darling wife get naughty in front of all these people?"

"Ah, yeah," Kevin said, a lot less committed to the idea. "Very excited."

Rakesh had a strong sense that the whole thing had been Daisey's idea, with Kevin only reluctantly riding shotgun.

"Well, we're very excited to see this little lady get her slut on," Jessica purred, putting a hand on the small of Daisey's back. Daisey blushed. "And you better believe we mean that word positively." She winked. "Are you into kissing women, Daisey?"

"Yeah, I've dated quite a few!"

"Well, then... how about I get a sample?" Jessica arched an eyebrow.

Daisey grinned, nodded, and pulled towards her. The women's bodies met. They kissed wetly on the lips.

It was the first extramarital act of the night, and it summoned a wild roar of applause. Jessica squeezed Daisey's teardrop-shaped ass, then gave it a smack.

"Let's bring out our next sexy hotwife!" Chris laughed, as the two broke the kiss. Daisey giggled and returned to Kevin. He wrapped a protective arm around her.

"From right here in sunny Los Angeles, California, she's a model by day and bartender by night... welcome Patti Beacham!"

This must be the wife of the slovenly guy on his right, thought Rakesh. He was about to wonder what she looked like, when Patti stepped out of the wing on the opposite side of the room. Rakesh's jaw dropped.

"Damn, she looks fine," said Patti's husband near Rakesh. He practically licked his lips. Rakesh had to agree.

Patti was a tall brunette with a ravishing face, and the figure of a Playboy model. She had massive breasts that were held in a white lace corset, her cleavage pushed tightly together. Her lush hair flowed behind her as she sauntered across the stage, loving the spotlight. She smiled a sultry smile, batting long eyelashes at the audience. Her smoky eyes smoldered over high cheekbones.

All she had on besides the corset was a pair of racy, white lace panties that showed off her curvaceous ass, and tall, white heels that capped off toned, mile-long legs.

Hanging back on her head was a bridal veil. They must be newly married, thought Rakesh, and the bearded guy's knockout wife was dressed as an extremely slutty bride.

Chris was eagerly walking over to greet Patti when she surprised the hosts by turning for the audience, going right for the front row.

With her throbbing intro music still blasting, Patti began to gyrate her body as she locked eyes with a young man sitting in front. The boyish-faced lad couldn't have been older than a college sophomore, and his eyes went wide as saucers at this stunning specimen of sex moving towards him.

Patti danced for him. She writhed erotically, keeping her eyes glued to his. Then she leaned forward with a wry smirk and shook her gigantic breasts in his face. He looked gleeful as Patti turned and wriggled her shapely ass. She bent forward. She rubbed her ass over the college boy's chest, then down to his rapidly hardening crotch.

"Well, well... it looks like sexy Mrs. Beacham is starting off the contest early!" laughed Chris.

"She's a hot fucking bitch, huh?" her husband breathily whispered to Rakesh.

Rakesh had no answer. He was taken aback by the rude way this man described his wife, but he certainly concurred with the 'hot' part. The gorgeous woman gyrated her ass on the college boy's dick, as he grinned ear-to-ear.

"Trust me, she is like no other slut you've ever met," her husband said. He was so uncouth he started to rub his crotch right there through his pants, ogling his wife out under the stage lights.

One thing was clear to Rakesh: If he and Diana wanted to win this contest, Patti was going to be some stiff competition - no pun intended. But then, he wondered, maybe Diana had already changed her mind, after watching this wanton display. Maybe his innocent wife wanted no further part of the proceedings.

"And let's welcome her husband," Jessica said, as Patti flicked her hair back and made her way back to the stage. The young kid in the audience had a dazed grin on his face, and the front of his basketball shorts sported a massive tent. "Karl Beacham!"

The slobby husband excitedly barreled through the wings towards the stage. Rakesh could feel some of the audience's confusion as he went towards his wife.

This

was the sexpot's husband?

Rakesh realized that Diana was up next.

He could hear the sound of his own heart.

"How do you feel, Patti," asked Jessica. "About being a 'hotwife'?"

"So excited," Patti purred. Even her voice was sexy. "I get to have all the fun I want,

and

make my new husband happy. It's so hot being married to Karl... he really lets me explore."

"Is that right?" asked Chris. "You feel good about this, Karl?"

"Oh yeah," Karl said, gruffly, putting his arm around Patti to palm her shapely ass. He was almost a foot shorter than her, perhaps more with her heels. "Patti's a hot fucking slut, and I like to see her get all the cock she needs."

"And I need a lot of cock," Patti laughed. Someone in the audience whistled.

"Maybe even yours, sexy," she said, looking out and winking at the unseen audience member.

"Well you sure sound ready," Jessica said. "And boy do you look hot in that slutty lingerie." The two exchanged flirtatious grins.

"But now it's time for our final wife," said Chris. Rakesh breathed in deeply.

"She's a financial consultant from London, England... please welcome Diana Vaibhav!"

Rakesh's lungs refused to exhale. A rich R&B tune played and his wife stepped onto the stage.

Diana looked stunning.

She had on the tightest and tiniest black dress he'd ever seen his wife wear. It clung to her shapely body like liquid. Her plump C-cup breasts were exposed almost three-quarters of the way, the dress magically appearing to start right above her nipples. It clutched the sides of her waist and ended just inches over the lower curve of her ass, which was ever-so-slightly visible en route to her exposed legs. Her hair was styled, cascading around her face like it had on their wedding day. Diana's body was short and curvy, and she had an angelic, heart-shaped face that, at the moment, wore a tight, excited grin.

Only Rakesh noticed that her legs were ever-so-slightly vibrating with anticipation. She was just as nervous as he was.

As Diana walked over to centerstage, she gave a sexy spin for the audience, showing off the long slit along one side of the dress. Through it, you could see the tan skin of her thighs and waist, and the thin black strap of a thong.

Rakesh was rock-hard.

The audience was cheering for his wife, who swayed enticingly on her black wedges towards Jessica and Chris. Chris ogled her openly as she gave Jessica a hug.

When she hugged Chris, the handsome host seemed to take his time holding her, blocking her from Rakesh's view.

Suddenly, Rakesh heard an "oooh" go up from the audience, then a cheer. Frustrated that he couldn't tell what was happening, Rakesh craned his neck this way and that.

Their hug seemed to end, and Rakesh's wife walked with flushed cheeks to her spot near the other two couples.

"Well, that's

one

way to welcome someone, hubby," Jessica said, playfully grabbing on Chris's manhood. Rakesh noted that he seemed erect in his suit pants, and grinning ear-to-ear.

"What can I say? That beautiful body looked real inviting..."

The audience laughed. What had just happened? wondered Rakesh. He felt his face blaze with jealousy and confusion.

"Maybe I ought to give her husband just as nice a welcome..." Jessica laughed. "Please welcome Rakesh Vaibhav!"

Rakesh gulped air. He gathered his nerves. He stepped out into the light, trying to ignore the audience, and made a beeline for his wife.

When Rakesh got there, he whispered breathlessly. "Di, what happened? Did Chris feel y--

mmph!

"

Diana cut him off. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He felt her hot, curvy body pressed against him, and clasped his hands over the small of her back. Cheers and applause went up from the audience.

Diana made a real show of the kiss, rubbing her body against Rakesh's, letting her hands wander over his back and down to his ass. She made sure to smack it.