Blacmailed and Fuced -

My name is John, and I am, or at least was, happily married to my wife Susan. We are both 27, having been married for 2 years before the event that changed our lifes.

We were each other's first sexual partner, and throughout our dating years and marriage enjoyed sex very much. Susan was a petite girl, barely 5'1, but ample in the right places and with a sweet pretty face that looked younger than her 27 years.

Like I said, we enjoyed sex, but after 5 years of it I began craving for more excitement, and in a bid to spice up our sex life we started experimenting with outdoor sex. In the car at a secluded beach, in an empty cinema etc. Susan went along with the idea more because she wanted to please me then because she wanted to. However, the thrill of having sex at a strange place at the risk of being caught bought us both more intense orgasms.

One day, while driving far north to meet a client, I came across what I thought would be a perfect place, a old industrial building, sparsely tenanted, which would definitely be empty on weekends. I bought Susan there that very weekend, and we had a bout of great sex in a handicapped toilet. Over the next few weeks, we went to that place almost every weekend. Somehow, the grime and squalidness of that place made Susan very horny, and as that place was deserted she had had no qualms moaning aloud and shouting “fuck me!” at every thrust and screaming “I'm coming!” as her orgasm approached. Then, with our hair and clothes dishevelled, we would leave the place. Little did we know we were being watched.

On that fateful day, we proceeded as usual to the handicapped toilet and locked it behind us. We were all over each other the second the door closed, frenching, my hands groping her c-cup breasts and hers unbuttoning my shirt when suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a gruff voice said, “sir, please come out of the toilet with your wife.”

Our blood ran cold as we stared at each other in shock. “Shit”, I muttered. Susan whispered frantically, “What shall we do? Just keep quiet and hope they are mistaken?” There was another knock, harder this time, and again the gruff voice spoke, “we know you're in there. Please come out or we will inform the police”. Faced with no choice, we arranged our clothes and opened the door.

Standing outside the door were 3 security guards, 2 Indian and 1 Chinese. They all looked to be in their forties and were big-sized with beer bellies, but most of their weight seemed to be muscle rather then fat. As they looked at me and my wife with grim faces, we knew we were in deep trouble. “Please follow us sir”, the larger Indian, whose nametag identified him as Ganesh said. The other 2 guards, Vikram and Alan, grabbed our arms and led us down a corrider to a room. The first thing we noticed in the room were the many TV consoles showing various locations in the building, and my heart sank as I realised one of the scenes was that of the handicapped toilet area.

“Let me show you something”, Ganesh said, and he clicked on a remote control. All the screens now showed the handicapped toilet, but the dates spanned several weeks, and the earliest date was the date I first bought Susan. All the screens showed the same thing, Susan and I, in different clothes but still identifiable, giggling and hugging and kissing as we enter the toilet, the door closing behind us, then the moaning and groaning and Susan's enthusiastic cries of passion. Then a lull period as we dress up, then emerge with our clothes and hair in a dishevelled state. From the videos, there was no doubt as to what we were doing in the toilet.

Ganesh turned off the TVs and turned to us. “Right now”, he said, “I could call the police and hand over these tapes to them. You'll be charged for public indecency, not to mention the scandal if I contact the press”. Susan, being a pretty girl, always had her way with guys, and she thought it would be no different this time. “Uncle, please give us a chance lah, we won't do it again.” Ganesh just smiled lecherously and looked at his 2 friends, both wearing the same leering grins, and said, 'Sure, if you can do for us what you did for your husband in the toilet'.

Susan and I both reeled at the thought. We were both young successful executives, an arrest and conviction would ruin our careers, not to mention the shame that would follow a scandal. But the thought of allowing my pretty petite wife to be violated by 3 cocks was equally reprehensible.

As I struggle to come to terms with the situation, I began to weigh the consequences. If this got out, our careers would be ruined, and perhaps we would never get the same high ranking position we held. Not to mention the shame we would bring upon our families in Singapore's traditional society. But if what happened here stayed in this room...besides, they are in their forties, at most a handjob and they would surely be satisfied. I looked at Susan and saw the same conflict in her eyes. If what happened could stay within this room, perhaps all she had to do was to put up with some groping, and perhaps a handjob would finish them off. But what if they wanted more? I pushed that thought out of my mind, sensing Susan doing the same. We looked at each other and I voiced out the decision that would change our lives. “You can have her” I said in a voice I barely recognise as my own. Susan merely lowered her head in resignation.