Guilt Free Impossible Dilemma

His cell phone rang, exactly when they said, at 10:00 am. He answered at once and snarled,

"You bastards, do you know what I'll..."

"Just get on with it, or you know what happens to the kid!" he could tell the voice belonged to someone young; it was clumsily muffled by cloth. There was wind noise, traffic in the distance, train signals - a city.

He was dressed in blue stretch jeans, a white t-shirt with a black radiation trefoil symbol on it and thin moccasin style loafers. No socks. Jet-black "bed" hair tousled in the breeze and the silver grey sidelights above his ears made him appear to be older than 35. Most women assumed he was late 40's. If they were caught checking him out his vivacious blonde wife killed their lust with one glance from disconcerting grey eyes so pale, they appeared to be clear. She was no dumb blonde.

His hands shook and he gritted his teeth but let his frightened anger dissipate. Relaxed thought was vital in this crazy situation.

At some other time, or place he might have laughed at the audacity. Now he just wanted to choke some little bastard to death.

There was nothing for it but to comply.

He'd first seen the instructions that morning on a note under the windshield wiper of their Pontiac G8 GT, parked safely in the security lock-up of their split-level. Their home was across the road from the white sands of their private beach. He often left the roller door raised, while at home, to allow ventilation. He was trying to prevent the gathering of humidity, the rust spots infecting his red crouching pride and joy.

Whoever the brazen culprit, they had used the opportunity to sneak in and leave the note. They also left a cell phone on the leather driver's seat. The note was plain A4 paper, laser printer. One corner was dog-eared and the toner was close to empty, letters gradually fading.

He felt tempted to punch a wall, or kick a lamppost when he thought again of the inescapable typed commands in the note, that even now made his cheeks red with anger, and not a little embarrassment. How dare they! But he had no choice! They had taken his 18-year-old son on the way home from school.

Unless he did exactly as they said, the kid would die screaming. Yes he'd heard the boy talk into the kidnapper's phone. It was real. Forget the cops. It was obvious from the first few seconds when he stood reading the note that they knew his every move. When he lifted the cell phone out of the car it rang instantly. They were watching from another multi-story somewhere around the bay. For the moment he felt his son was safe, the young boy's voice was calm; he was okay.

Having just come home from Afghanistan, he didn't want police involvement anyway. Oh yes, he wanted to deal with this off the record, because if there were a way to catch these perpetrators, they would be dealt with in the same manner he lived his life... off the books.

Obeying each typed order had just been annoying, up until now. The next step made his hands jitter and heart pound. It was unknown. He was to walk across a municipal park and stand near a water feature and wait for another phone call.

There were some low shrubs behind the fountain, a garden bed that had been recently dug over by council maintenance workers. They weren't here today but there were other people walking along the meandering paths, some sitting nearby on park benches and one young couple, probably college students, lying on a blanket reading on the grass some distance away.

The cell phone was ringing again just as he approached the artificial circular lake. Some seagulls were perched on a statue in the middle of the water; the fountains over spray had wet the pavement in a ring around the memorial where people stood to throw in coins.

He couldn't' see any young person holding a cell phone anywhere and he turned, studying the distant edges of the park, looking for movement or someone sitting in a stationary car. There was no suspicious activity.

"Yes punk, you tell me again exactly why I should do anything for you, you low-life piece of scum?"

"You'd better listen carefully..."

He heard a blood curdling scream that rattled the iPhone speaker and then his son's voice crying and pleading with him to do whatever they wanted. Just please end the pain.

"I will say this only once. Are you listening now?" they didn't wait for him to confirm this time.

"You will strip naked. Right now. This is a security measure and you'll do it quickly or I'll kill your son, forget the whole thing and leave. The choice is yours Army Man."

His neck hair stood up as he heard this new bit of information. They knew he had been on deployment! They must know he was in the forces. Now they wanted him naked? Something prickled in his mind at this strange request, but they insisted he act quickly.

There was no time to think! This was ridiculous. He'd just have to go along with them, but at the first opportunity he'd bail and run. The perverted bastards! Why did some nutter have to pick on him and his family?

With pale face and set jaw he ripped his t-shirt over his head, juggling the active cell phone, heeled his loafers off and one-handed his belt buckle undone to slide out of his jeans. Standing there, just in boxers now he already felt humiliated. It wasn't being naked that boiled his blood; it was this forced obedience to someone, a delinquent who called the shots.

"Get those off too, you could be hiding a weapon." The voice was definitely young, but commanded obedience. This kidnapper was used to giving orders, the little prick.

Shrugging, he took the boxers off and threw them on the ground with the rest of his clothes. His hairy balls and pale cock were now hanging down in the breeze like a horse. His six-pack chest bulged as he looked around the public park again but nobody had yet noticed his odd behaviour.

He flexed his tattooed arms, balling his fists, imagining punching the assailant's face or firing a clip into the sucker's body. He'd seen all sorts of shit while on duty but never anything like this. He felt his cock. It was growing semi-hard from a sudden need to piss.

There was a pause and he could hear breathing in the cell phone. Footsteps. He listened intently. They were moving and on gravel! It was a pathway he was damn sure of it. There was a gravel pathway leading away from the rear of the fountain past the shrubs and out of sight.

"Leave your stuff there and go behind the bushes. There is someone there to meet you. Go!" They must be close by whoever it was. Why couldn't he see someone talking on a phone? There had been no demand for money so far, but he guessed that would come, all in good time. That's all these types ever wanted, money and lots of it.

He strode around the wet fountain area and cautiously approached the shrubs. There was someone behind there, he could see suntanned skin and blonde hair, they were squatting, no kneeling behind the bushes!

Pausing indecisively, cell phone hanging, he heard squawking and placed it to his ear.

"Now, go forward and rape her. Do it. Do it now! Go on or I'm hanging up this phone and we kill your son. Do it immediately!" the punk made the tinny phone speaker distort as he shouted.

"You, there is no way! I...you can't..." but as he said these words he knew he would do anything in his power for his son. Anything even this.

Their voice came through the cell phone again and added something that chilled him.

" We'll also run over some school children who live in your street, if you don't do this. As well as kill your son."

He saw that his cock that had been only semi-erect before was now standing up to full army attention. Could he be, was he enjoying this obedience? Did he like the idea of raping someone, being ordered about here in full public view, his expensive jeans and shirt abandoned and probably even now hopelessly out of reach, being grabbed and rushed away, shoes stolen by a street thief?

He felt a stirring wave of insane pleasure course through him, a euphoria that engulfed him and surged up through his cock and balls and into his mind. He would do this! He would rape her just like they told him to, he'd let them dominate him, humiliate an army soldier to the dust. He wanted to be humiliated by a young punk who would probably shit his pants if he heard a firearm detonate.

The time was edging towards 10:45 am now, the sun beaming down warmly on his back, his chest, legs, arms and his cock that was now undeniably rock hard, its veins throbbing in naughty pulsing anticipation. His purple engorged love heart shaped head was shiny with tension. He saw the young couple who had been on the lawn, were now close to the fountain and the girl was craning her neck to see what he was doing. Any second and she would notice his pile of clothing on the pavement.

It wouldn't be long and the early lunchtime crowd of joggers and office workers would be moving through to have their break here.

"Unless you want to be arrested you'd better get on with it. Hurry up! My patience is running out! Do it like you mean it. Slap her around; get it on! Call her a dirty slut, whatever! We'll ring back in a few minutes and you'd better have done it. Don't try to get away. We'll know everything you do and say!" he could hear the young voice was breathing heavily into the phone now, voice wavering and hoarse. The sick bastards! Nutters getting their rocks off at someone else's fucking expense!

He edged around the nearest end of the shrubs. Just like they'd said, there was a woman kneeling there, totally naked, no clothing in sight. Her face was hidden between her arms, long blonde hair hanging down and he could hear her crying loudly. Her shapely buttocks were blazing with red welts as if someone had already taken a leather strap to her. Her thighs were plump and she had one arm cradling her creamy breasts that were hanging down on the garden bed, her nipples brushing the clods of freshly overturned earth.

His cock was now beaded with pre-cum and he breathed faster, not needing any encouragement to send a half dozen hearty slaps onto the woman's bare backside, her bum cheeks swaying from side to side with each smack. She howled as his hands stung, her sobbing drowned out by him shouting at her.

"You dirty filthy slut! Where's your clothes you naughty girl! Daddy's going to fuck you for being disobedient, you bitch." He felt a bit self-conscious talking like this and didn't want to injure her but the thought of his son's life in danger, that he was being forced to commit rape released him from any guiltiness.

His cock was aimed at her shaved pussy lips and as he knelt and gripped her pelvis doggie style in large army hardened hands he felt a surge of wild abandon. Feeling free of any consequences and the insane joy of this situation he began yelling at her even more. He cursed at her and told her exactly what he did to daughters who wouldn't obey their father. He could see she was probably his own age but felt her respond to his commanding tone.

At first she let him hold her, his cock head just touching her smooth buttocks, rising to slide between her thighs, running along underneath her smooth muff. He didn't push into her yet; it could ruin everything if he didn't make a convincing job of it to the demanding criminals holding his son's life in their hands.

She must have felt his thigh muscles and hairy balls swing against her butt cheeks, as if it was a signal. She began to struggle; suddenly fully aware she was held captive by a hulking maniac who was buck naked just like her. She spat and clawed behind her, ignoring her lovely swaying breasts that had now fallen right down onto the ground and were being made very dirty by the red cultivated dirt. Her nipples scraped all over the rough clods, weeds scratching and sliding between her tits, dry flower pods brushing over her chest.

His purple cock was furiously reaching to get in her private love hole that she had been keeping for a special man. She felt him push against her lips and part them, penetrating just enough to feel the beginnings of his shiny helmet. He was invading a forbidden place reserved for someone else! He withdrew immediately, her fighting paused and even she seemed to push back slightly, feeling blindly for his cock to press again on her sensitive bud, her tingling clitoris now beginning to crave more pushing, more nudging, more man cock. She began to fight him again despite her raw lust, and he almost lost his hold on her hips, but kept her hair pulled tight like a whip, arching her back until she was in his total control.

"Daddy's cock is going to take you and you can't stop him can you my daughter?" his panting breath was against her bare shoulder blades, his hot tongue licked a rasping swathe up into the hair at the base of her neck and in behind her ears. She howled in a final burst of rebellion, cursing him and screaming for help. Her cries were now half hearted from exhaustion and nobody would hear unless there were just across from the bushes near the fountain. She panted like a mare, puffing and sweating, her mane hanging, still shrouding her tear streaked but still angry face. Her mouth had flecks of foam but she was almost spent trying to stop him. She was ready to be taken by this man.

That this was happening not far from public view didn't diminish her wanton stamina, but his strong muscular arms and bullock like legs had overpowered her and her shameful desires for his big horse-meat were undermining her resistance. Now she gave in and took pleasure in the outrage of wanting her rapist. Oh yes, she was opening her vagina, like petals wanting the bee to pollinate, wanting his angry red stamen to penetrate her flower. She would let him do anything now, now and forever. She wouldn't press charges either. She was his, broken in like a breeding stud racing mare, her pussy now pushing back with invitation.

He didn't seem to care and was oblivious now to her cries and vixen like squirming. Holding her hair in one fist he pulled back painfully on her head, using it like a rope and then drove his pylon of hard straining cock meat straight into her wet pussy camel toe lips from the rear, a piston like motion between her butt cheeks that brought a squeal of surprise from her upturned ashen face.

He stared in shock, realizing at this late moment in this mutual animal lust that this blonde "victim" was none other than his own wife! He was raping his own sexy hot wife! She saw his face also at the last second and her struggles doubled in outrageous fury. Her own husband was raping her thinking it was some other haplessly weak woman! She began to scream and wail and her pale eyes turned white in the hottest arousal she had ever felt. She wanted him to overpower her like a victim and fuck that filthy slut that she was!

He saw her reaction, didn't even try to understand what was going on. Now there was no mercy as he pounded his cock in and out of her body, lifting her in bouncing hops, her knees digging deeper into the garden soil, her stomach and tits now filthy with earth and plant refuse. She felt the dirt gather in the wetness of her sweat, some of it even on her hairless vagina opening and sliding on his hard cock and into her. She had clods of dirt moving in and out, the bits of dirt stimulating them both as they moved against each other, the friction of the dirt as he penetrated her to her core stinging her clit and his glans. People were running now, through the park from the far side as a train disgorged a crowd of lunch spot seekers, who raced straight towards their tangled gyrating bodies.

The young couple were now standing open mouthed above them, as the rapist and his blonde victim both felt a roar of pleasure wash up from their feet, through their bodies and into each other as they came, his seed pumping her full to overflowing, the white hot wetness of her dripping out onto the garden bed, his cum like a bulls ejaculate, gobs of it coating her pussy, her shaved muff, her belly and the underside of her breasts. She slumped into the dirt and it stuck to his cum, and her seat, coated all of her, both her breasts, her hard nipples and on down to her still scrabbling toes and ankles.

Before anyone could speak, the cell phone rang and he thumbed the screen unlocked and answered. His cock was still insider her and she made no move to get away. As he listened for the punk on the phone he heard his wife screech to the young couple and to others who were beginning to gather into a gaping crowd nearby.

"Well? Get away from here you fucking morons! How dare you stare at us in this way! Someone has stolen our clothes as we were getting changed for work; someone's taken our track gear. They took all our stuff! Get away right now you perverts!"

Some had been texting on their cell phones and she saw one man raise his phone to his ear to call.

"That's right, ring the police, but tell them first, how dirty minded you are, all of you! Taking advantage of our embarrassment and nudity, you dirty bastards, standing around watching a husband and wife trying to do their best to cover themselves!"

The crowd took off, mortified business people who didn't want to be caught looking at this ridiculous situation. It was obvious the couple had been having a great time, but nobody wanted to be in a photo that be uploaded to a social network, that would be emailed around the offices and wreck their high profile careers. It would look tacky, very unprofessional!

He was talking to the punk by now, trying to hear what he was saying, but the kid just shouted that their clothing was in a garbage bag next to the closest municipal rubbish bin; near the other end of the garden shrubs, and then hung up the phone after saying that he was "sure his client would be pleased with what had happened. It was a good result."

They soon spotted the bag with clothes in it and both dressed, leaving all of the dirt and cum smeared all over her tits and pussy and on his balls and semi-erect cock. She felt the dirt rubbing her clit as they walked away from the people, still staring at them from a distance.

There was no talking as they turned into a nearby street and blended anonymously with the crowd, who took no notice of their dishevelled appearance. In unspoken agreement they didn't begin arguing until they were safely home a few blocks away.

"Ok let's hear it..." She said, staring at him, a strange look on her face.

He had never seen her like this. She wasn't angry and for someone who had just witnessed her husband raping someone in a public park, she was incredibly calm. He began to tell her about the note, showed it to her, and the cell phone, he wondering if she'd believe him.

As he finished a look of love stole over her face.

She held him and told him a tale. She had received a similar note and with the same demands typed on it. She showed it to him, pulling it out of her handbag. The same dog-eared A4 sized page with its fading toner towards the end of the letter.

Their son came into the front door of the house half an hour later, face red as if he'd been crying. He ran into their arms. They questioned him but he couldn't remember much.

It wasn't until later after dinner, that his father sat in his study upstairs and became annoyed while printing something on the computer, that something began to dawn, a tiny suspicion that grew. His printer was almost out of toner. The words began fading toward the end of the document.

And his ream of A4 paper had been dropped in the shopping last week. One corner of all the pages was dog-eared...

After sitting thinking about this he confirmed his new kidnapper theory by checking his son's phone that was charging on the kitchen bench. It took only a couple of seconds to see that the cell phone of the kidnappers was the same number as his son's best buddy at school.