This story would make more sense if you read the chapters in order. It is a cuckold tale and should not be confused with my other BTB and romance style stories.
Tags: Group Sex. Cheating Wife. Revenge. Arrested.
The physical signs of what happened to Claire faded over the next two weeks. Swelling of her face went down. The black around her eye leached away. She had to go to the doctor in the end. Her nipple became red and inflamed. At her request I removed the piercing the next day. It seemed to get better at first then swelled alarmingly. A course of antibiotics quickly bought the infection under control. Claire said the doctor checked her out everywhere else but I don't know if it actually happened. I was barred from going in with her. The other major change was Claire put the remaining contraceptive pills in the bin.
Mentally things were tougher. We were both flattened by what happened. I threw myself into finishing harvest. Being inside the harvester's cab was my escape. Claire took two weeks off work at the school. Mostly when I came home she was in bed. I wanted to be more sympathetic. To find the words and actions to take away the pain. However there was that nagging voice in my head, you play with fire you're gonna get burnt.
Jim had tried calling Claire back and texting her for a couple of days. In the end she gave me her phone and asked me to block his number. Then he started ringing me. I ignored it. Angry and frustrated that he couldn't take the hint I answered after a week.
"Nathan, we need to talk." Jim had said.
"No, Claire said it's over so it's over."
"What happened?"
"What do you think? You leave three animals at our house."
"But only Karl..."
"Fuck off Jim, they all took a turn then they did her together and for a finale they pissed on her."
Jim had gone quiet. I'd almost ended the call when he spoke again.
"Okay, but we still need to talk."
"We've got nothing to talk about."
"I've got a half a container load of stuff that I need to get out of Brisbane."
"Not my problem anymore."
"It's too late to change plans now Nathan. It's going to be in your shed at the end of the week."
"If it turns up here I'll be calling the police."
"I wouldn't do that Nathan." Jim voice got a definite menacing edge. "Shit can get bad for you really quickly."
"Fuck off Jim, you can't threaten me."
"It's not a threat." Something about the way he said it had sent a chill right through me. "Take this load and we will call it quits."
I remember the internal argument I had. Self preservation won in the end.
"Okay, but you stay away from Claire and the house."
"I'm not going to be anywhere near your place."
That was the last conversation I had with Jim. Sometime late Friday night a truck arrived at the shed. I was unloading my grain truck into a silo. There was a flurry of activity as they used my forklift to put several pallets in the chemical shed then it left.
When I'd finished I couldn't help myself and I went to have a look. There were four pallets. Three had nine sixty litre drums on them. The fourth, sixteen twenty litre containers. I hoped they would use them quickly. The truth was I really didn't notice any more truck movements. I've no idea when they took drums away but it must have been very early in the morning. After a shower of rain I'd sometimes see some tyre tracks in the gravel and there would be a couple drums gone. Another time they must have left the shed unlocked. Not only were drums gone but some of my tools and a chainsaw were missing.
Christmas came and went. Claire and I were still wandering through a relationship wasteland. At times she would get her old mojo back but it wouldn't last. I'd say something and she'd snap and we'd be back to square one. Sex is not the thing to measure any relationship by but before all of this it was something we did well together even with the biker in the mix. There was an obvious hiatus after Karl and his offsiders night of debauchery. The physical trauma made bumping uglies together an impossibility. Then even after the physical healing the mental scars were an impediment, for me anyway. I found it difficult to orgasm. Images of Claire enjoying parts of the rape mixed with her indifference. I didn't know if it still hurt her, the act itself, or my inadequacies but she seemed to barely tolerate my efforts. So often I would fake it. If she ever noticed Claire didn't say anything.
To try and engineer a more lasting change I booked a holiday on the Gold Coast. Picked a swanky place in the middle of everything. It was going really well until the second last day. We'd just come back from the beach. Claire had had a shower and I was next in. I'd just put some shampoo in my hair when I heard the scream. Shutting the water off I grabbed a towel, draped it around myself and went to where Claire was. She was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Claire pointed at the television. It was a news or current affairs show. There was a policeman doing a media conference. It was something about a murder or murders. When it went back to the talking head in the studio he gave a summary.
"Just repeating, police are seeking the assistance in identifying three headless and handless bodies recovered from the Coomera river. Each one of the bodies has tattoos similar to the ones we are about to show you. If you can help in any way with the identity of the victims please call crime stoppers..."
The tattoos flashed up on the screen in a slideshow. The first one was a large red back spider.
"It's them, it's them..." Claire said as she tried to stifle the flow of tears with some tissues.
"They got what they deserved."
"Did you? Did you know?" Claire looked up at me. "Did you tell anyone?"
"No. I, I didn't know." I stopped as Claire's eyes bored a hole through me. "But I did tell Jim."
"What. Why?"
"He was ringing all the time, I just wanted it to stop."
"This is sick. What are we in the middle of?"
"Why are you worried about what happened to them? Bloody wish I did it after what they did to you."
"You didn't do much to stop it."
"Trike knocked me out cold then I was taped to a chair."
"Didn't stop you getting a hard on."
"And how many times did you cum while they fucked you in every hole?"
"Fuck off Nathan."
"Yeah, I think I will."
I pulled on some shorts, a shirt and left. Found the nearest bar then started working my way along the top shelf. Didn't leave until they stopped serving me for being intoxicated. Some how I made it back to the corridor outside our room. I couldn't bring myself to go back inside so I slumped down against the door and fell asleep. A room service waiter woke me up. He was bringing Claire some dinner. I stumbled inside and went straight to the bathroom. It was where I stayed for most of the night. Hugging the toilet bowl regularly when I wasn't enjoying the cool comfort of the tiled floor.
We left the next morning, one day before the booking ended. We got home further apart than when we left. The Cold War continued until school went back at the end of January. Claire took on extra tutoring to help out the senior students who'd missed her classes during her time off. Perhaps it was having something else to focus on or just not being at the farm with me all the time. Maybe it was just distance, I'm not sure which but things started to get back on track.
The best way to describe it would be Claire got happy. And as the old saying goes, happy wife happy life. There were smiles and even laughter. Her enthusiasm for living returned. That even extended to the bedroom in a limited way. There wasn't any formal discussion but we settled into a pattern which kept us both happy. Oral sex became our the default option. Mostly she just sucked my cock and occasionally I went down on her. On rare occasions I pushed the issue and Claire allowed me access to her pussy. I could just tell she wasn't into it so most times I'd back off and she'd return to slurping vigorously to get me off. If I did push on and go all the way she'd be pissed at me. It seemed starting a family was some way off. Until the last couple of weeks when Claire relented then pretty much demanded I cum in her pussy all the time.
It was the last week of March. I was running some high moisture sorghum through a dryer I hired. Autumn rains had come early and played havoc with the summer crop harvest. I saw a ute pull up outside my chemical shed. As I watched two guys got out and went inside. From a distance I thought one of them was Tiny. They came out carrying a 60L drum between them. Once it was loaded they took another one inside. The deal with Jim was now a one off. I didn't want it to last one minute longer than necessary so putting more drums inside wasn't on.
In a huff I shut down the augers and the dryer and went to investigate. When I got to the shed Tiny was standing beside a dual cab ute. There were six drums on the back which meant it was almost over. He gave me a wave and a smile, I returned the wave but didn't smile. My focus was on the other biker who was locking the shed up. He was tall and lean with a dark completion and a middle eastern manscaped beard.
"You guys are only supposed to take stuff away not bring more." I said as the guy turned around.
"Nathan?"
"Yeah, what did you put in there?"
"Just an empty, nothing to worry about. We'll shift it next time." The guy broadened his stance and stood tall. "Lucky we ran into you Nathan. Jim wants to have a word. Asked us to bring you to the clubhouse."
"I haven't got the time or the inclination to go anywhere near Jim." I replied.
I started to turn around and I noticed Tiny was now standing behind me cutting off easy access to my vehicle.
"I asked nicely but it's not a request." Tall guy covered the distance between us quickly. "Just get in or we won't be so friendly.
He grabbed my arm and started leading me towards their ute.
"Wait, how will I get back here? Are you going to drive me?"
Tiny and Tall guy looked at each other. "He's got a point Grub. Fucking long way back here aye." Tiny added
"Why don't I take my ute? I'll follow you."
"No fucking way." Grub grunted then he thought a bit more. "Hmm okay, Tiny you go with him and give directions. I'll follow to make sure you don't get lost."
An hour and a half later Tiny directed me through a nondescript rural entrance about ten kilometres east of Gunnedah. Once we got through about five hundred metres of scrubby trees the country opened out again. It was flood out country, the road was raised gravel with lots of pipes under it to let water through. Ahead on low hill was a number of sheds ringed by an eight foot high chain mesh fence topped with barbed wire. Two bikers waved for us to stop at the double gates in the fence. They looked inside, saw Tiny and waved us through.