How I and Hubby Were Forced

My name is J. I am 57 years old. I am married to P. and we have three children (who have nothing to do with this story and live their life on their side).

My husband and I have always had satisfactory intercourse together.

But of course, after long years of marriage, and when the house is empty of children, the routine becomes heavier.

One day, I registered on a porn site, to read obscene things. I noticed that words excite me even more than pictures. I connected regularly in secret from my husband and I dialogued with strangers who told me their fantasies. For my part, I spoke a little of mine, especially the one that serves me in my handjob: being constrained by a group of guys, in front of my husband forced to watch. In my dream, I end up taking a guilty pleasure.

This fantasy, I described it dozens of times during my exchanges.

And then one day everything rocked.

It started with an email. I was contacted on my personal box explaining to me that there were recordings of my conversations on the pornographic site. At first I was flabbergasted. I did not know how strangers could make the link between my account and my email.

Then, I thought about it and understood that it was very embarrassing. From this email, we knew my first and last names. I received confirmation of my fears when these strangers began to interact with my facebook account. There, they knew all my life! My relatives, my friends, colleagues at work ... I understood that they could now find me, just from my name and yellow pages.

I lived a few days of extreme worry. I did not know what these people wanted.

A little after discreetly reported on Facebook, these strangers have again manifested themselves by the mail. They told me that they would make me happy and make me realize my fantasy. It sent shivers down my spine. I did not know how to get out, how to avoid a scandal, with my husband but also with all the people identifiable on my Facebook account. Their message was quite explicit: if I did not submit to their will, they would arrange to publish all my obscenities on their Facebook page, now linked to mine and that of our family and all our friends.

There was a long week of silence, no doubt to give me time to realize what was waiting for me if I did not obey.

Then, on Saturday night after dinner, while we were at home my husband and I, someone rang the bell. P. went to open. The visitor explained to him that he had to let him in and that I was going to enlighten him. It all seemed mysterious to P. who called me.

I did not go into details but I told my husband that it was indeed necessary to let this man in and that I would explain everything to him. I knew at that moment that I should at least tell my husband about it and I was hoping the damage would stop there.

The man was not alone. He was accompanied by three other people who stayed behind during our explanations.

We were all six in the living room. My husband was very intrigued, trying to understand the connection between me and these four men. For my part, I imagined his distress. If there had been one man, he would have thought of a lover. But four?

The one who seemed to be the leader made the presentations. He used to call himself John. He was a younger guy than us, in his thirties, and sporty enough. His friends were Simon, Bernard and Andrew. John invited me to tell P. who they were and why they were there. It shocked me. I was amazed to see that they wanted me to say the facts as they stood, no more pretense.

I was hesitant at the beginning of my explanations. But John intervened regularly, either to confirm, to complete, or to correct me when I did not say the truth completely.

My husband did not say a word. He had become livid. The other three men had been scattered throughout the house. We did not know what they were doing. There was a bit of noise from our bedroom as it seemed to me.

When all was said, there was a silence that seemed to me long. Then my husband asked John what he expected of us. He answered calmly, explaining his scenario, which corresponded more or less to mine. He invited P. not to make trouble and let it go. The other three men came back from the bedroom and invited P. to let his friends gag and tie him up. They were not violent for a second. It was not necessary. Although my husband was reluctant at first, John persuaded him that he had no choice, which he finally admitted.

John invited us all to go to the bedroom. The curtains had been pulled. Next to the bed was a Voltaire armchair at the feet of which links had been tied. John asked my husband to sit down and he was immediately tied up. Then it was my turn. I was asked to undress. Like my husband, I knew I did not have a choice and I obeyed. When I was naked, they tied me to the bed, on the back, arms outstretched on both sides of the mattress and legs raised with ankles tied to the wrists. You can imagine that in this position, I was fully exposed, not to say offered.

The four men got naked in their turn. P. seemed terrified. He had to feel totally helpless and he had to dread more than anything else. Obviously, he suspected that I was going to be raped but he did not know if it would go any further.

For my part, I was mostly a little cold. It was not that the temperature of the room was too low - we liked our comfort - but it was probably due to the worry. Neither did I know how it was going to end.

John went up on the bed, on his knees, already horny, and he came to kiss me. He kissed my whole face, including the inside of my ears, to finish with my lips. He wanted to enter his tongue but I did not open my mouth and kept my teeth tight. He just pinched my nose until I was forced to breathe. He took the opportunity and kissed me for a long time. At the same time, he stroked my breasts. It was not easy given my position but he had access to the nipples and he titillated or stretched them.

Meanwhile, his three friends were filming us, with two cameras and a mobile phone. One was standing back to capture the whole scene, with my husband sitting, tied and gagged, with John and me on the bed. A second apparently framed my pussy and my anus and the third took my face. They were doing a full report about my rape but also about how we felt my husband and me.

I noticed they did not hide their faces. This was explained by the way they had entered the house. This meant that they did not fear the consequences of their actions. As you can see, the situation did not prevent me from thinking.

John continued to take care of me. He seemed to want to make me go from refusal to acceptance, using gentleness and long preliminaries. I thought I was in a state of resistance but when he touched my pussy, he showed his friends that I was wet. He presented his middle finger all dry to Bernard's camera that was close up on my ass and he entered without difficulty in my vagina. He pulled out with a drizzle of juice that stretched as he raised his hand. Andrew, who was holding the second camera in a wide shot, had just zoomed in to capture the stupor on P's face. As for Bernard, he missed nothing of my embarrassment.

I looked at my husband with a supplicating look. I wanted to tell him that it was in spite of myself, that it was not my fault. He looked down.

John approached his face to my pussy. He said, "You smell good, you smell like the female who needs the male, I'm going to feast because I like that scent and taste."

He breathed my intimate fragrance. It must have been strong because we were late in the day. He inspired with full lungs. I felt his breath on my buttocks. Then he licked me. His tongue started from my lower back and went up to my pubis. Then he started again. He paused on my anus, on my vulva and on my clit. At the level of the anus, he licked in a circle and from time to time pressed on my hole, as if to force it. I felt that it opened more and more, allowing him to penetrate me with the tip of his tongue. On the vulva, he seemed to want to drink, as dogs do, by lapping. He was using his fingers to collect juice and taste it. For my clitoris, he had the most attention. He did not touch it directly with his tongue, but he stimulated the edges of the clit tip and its hood. Then, he would restart from my lower back through my two holes.

My husband kept on watching down. Andrew, Bernard and Simon continued to film. I imagined what the plan would give on my buttocks and John making me lose control. I could not stop my secretions, I could not hide that my ass opened wider with each passage. All this would be visible on the recording.

John penetrated me. I was not hurt because he did it gently and I was very lubricated by his saliva but also by my own juice. I was conscious of being in a state where my vaginal muscles were no longer contracted enough to hinder penetration. I saw that my husband had watched John enter me. He seemed overwhelmed, but he could not take his eyes off his wife, whom another man was fucking in front of him.

John was leaning on the back of my raised thighs. He gave ample pelvic thrusts, entering and out the entire sex. He was groping my breasts and he was looking into my eyes. "You like being forced, aren't you, that's what you said in your naughty conversations." I supported his eyes. Mine probably reflected all the ambiguity of my thoughts. Every time John came out, he paused before plunging into me and pressing my breasts with his hands. In this way, I came to feel a lack when he came out of me and the desire that he pushed again. It surely was printed on my face. I must have had an expression more and more imploring.

My husband was spying on John's back and forth and my face alternately. He seemed very sad. I should have tried to have a reassuring attitude, showing my refusal or at least my passivity, but inexplicably, his pain had the effect of further reducing my defense.

Gradually, John accelerated the stroke and each time he sank into me, I could not help but blow out, sounding as the "Oof" of a lumberjack. I realized that it must give the impression that I had pleasure. This was not the case, well not quite. Let's say that I felt more and more strongly that I was being forced and that I could less and less oppose it. It was this feeling of helplessness and domination that in one way excited me and removed all opposition from me.

John was pounding me. He knew how to keep a regular rythm. He always looked at me, intently. He kneaded my breasts. And then suddenly, I could not hold myself back. I felt like I was peeing. The expression is quite inappropriate because it evokes a small net while there, it was a jet. I was able to stop but I was terribly embarrassed to have lost control at this point. Nobody had seen anything except John who must have felt squirting on his cock. He smiled and kissed me. I am ashamed but I did not refuse his kiss. He said, "Do not be embarrassed, let your pleasure go, I'll fuck you and you can not do anything to stop me, that's what excites you."

He put his fingers in my vagina, agitated them like a piston and began to press on my stomach. He wanted to make me piss again, which was not long. The camera was filming each of my jets. For any future viewer, I enjoyed the fuck and it would be difficult to admit the opposite. Besides, my husband himself seemed to be convinced of that. His eyes showed both incredulity and disapproval. As for me, I must admit, I was cuming. It was out of my control. The orgasm lasted until my bladder was empty. I probably did not keep silent.

John let me breathe for a few minutes and he kissed me again. He sucked my nipples, then pussy. This time, he frankly rubbed my clit tip under the hood, sucking or crushing it with his tongue. Obviously, the urine that was still flooding my vagina and my lips did not seem to bother him. He started pumping me again with his fingers. Then he took me again. "Now I'm going to cum in you, you'll look at me when I'm going to unload." He was not long to ejaculate. When it happened, he had a deeper stick, almost crushed my breasts and his eyes became glassy. I did what he said to me and I fixed him while he unloaded into my uterus. He had a dozen jerks and in my thoughts, I had the impression to open up a little more each time, so that he could go deeper still. I saw it on the movie later, my eyes seemed to beg him. My husband has witnessed all this.

John pulled out. Simon gave him the camera. "My go now, I'm going to fuck you in the ass because the other hole is full." He went out of the room and came back with a pack of butter. He climbed onto the bed, on his knees too, and licked my anus directly. "The sheet is wet, you're a slut, you pissed all over the place!" He smeared his index finger with saliva and entered it into my rectum. He made it come and go so unceremoniously that it has probably eased the sphincter. He continued to enter his fingers. "I have to put three in your ass, that's the diameter of my cock." Then he spread butter on my little hole and on his cock. "When I'm going to start entering, I advise you to push, as if you wanted to shit, it makes it easier and it will not hurt you." So, more or less, either I helped him to sodomize me, or it would be painful.

He placed his penis on my hole and pressed. He held his cock between his fingers to guide himself. The butter did not really help, complicating the achievement of the good position. The cock was sliding. But when the glans was able to force the passage, the lubrication played its role and Simon quickly found his balls against my buttocks. He pulled out. "Bernard, film this beautiful crater that Madam offers to us. Your wife's ass seems very welcoming, don't you think so P.?" Apparently, my hole was gaping. Simon wiped his hands on the sheets, grabbed my hips and planted himself inside me. He literally plowed me. In contrast to John, there was no feeling in his act, just a satisfaction. There, I was really abused. His blows made me suffer. I wanted to close my buttocks as we close the mouth but I had to undergo every intromission. I moaned, clenched my teeth, sometimes closed my eyes. But this punishment matched what I said I wished when I described my fantasies on the internet. I was abused, unprotected, not even that of my husband and who in addition attended my sodomization. Pain went hand in hand with brain pleasure. I was probably masochistic at this moment.

My husband, for one, was worried. He saw only my suffering and could not imagine my pleasure. But he could neither move nor protest.

Simon continued to smash me until he came. He too crushed my hips rushing forward. I felt his jet in my intestine. He had an animal scream, continued to come and go in me, sending a squirt of cum every time I felt his balls banging against my buttocks. Then he pulled out.

"Now we're going to take care of the husband, we're not going to let him mope on his chair, you're going to participate, old man." Bernard approached the chair and removed the gag and undid the links. P. could have expressed his hatred, either by shouting or by striking, but he had reached a stage of resignation. He was standing, his arms dangling, more or less inert. Bernard unhooked P.'s pants without opposition. He undressed him completely, P. lifting his leg to let blue jeans, underpants and socks removed. He also raised his arms to facilitate the passage of the t-shirt. "Andrew, come and film Mr P.'s dick and underpants, he has stained his panties. I can't believe it! He was excited to see his wife get fucked!" I watched my husband naked, submissive, and I saw at the end of his penis a net that was detached and lengthened. Like me, his secretions betrayed him. He did not have a hard-on, but he was excited, there was no doubt about it. And the camera immortalized this fact.

"Well, you're going to go on the bed and you're going to clean your wife, she's full of cum in her two holes, I want you to give her back the shine of the new." He took my husband by the arm and pushed him towards the mattress until he climbed on it. Then he told him how he wanted him to stand on all fours, the nose between my buttocks. He ordered him to lick my pussy, which had to be stained with John's sperm drying. My husband reluctantly did so. But gradually, he substituted his saliva for the seed.

He raised his head, thinking he was done. But Bernard was ruthless. He ordered him to empty my vagina and rectum with his fingers and to consume the result of his curettage. I thought my husband would throw up but I was surprised to find that he did his job without much complaining. Me, I knew from experience that in a general way the fresh sperm has rather good taste, but thence that my husband appreciates it ...

While hubby emptied me, Bernard caressed P's balls from behind and my husband had an erection. He could not avoid it either. It was more or less instinctive because of touching. But above all, he did not try to escape from the petting. "He has a hard-on, we're not going to leave him like that, it would not be charitable." Bernard detached me. I knelt down and rubbed my wrists and ankles, sored because of the ropes. He forced my husband to stay on all fours, his ass up and head in the sheets always wet and he told me to sit in front of hubby. He suggested to Andrew to come to be sucked and he placed himself behind my husband.

Andrew put his cock in front of my mouth. The glans was shining with pre-seminal fluid. I have always loved that and licked delicately not to dilute the taste in that of my saliva. I held the sex in my hand, I touched the meatus with the tip of my tongue and I formed a thread before cutting it with my other hand to eat it. When there was no more, I took all the cock up to the balls. My husband was watching me. He did not seem to understand why I had become so participative. His embarrassment was not communicative. On the contrary, I must admit that it excited me.

While I was sucking Andrew, Bernard continued to caress the sex of my husband, so that P. was at the same time disapproving to see me pump another cock and obviously had some pleasure as his starting erection was showing. I did not miss a second of the show neither Simon who was filming. Bernard spat in the hollow of his free hand and smeared hubby's buttocks. Then he caressed his anus. "His cock is hard when I touch him in the asshole, he seems to like that. Man, you know, it's better like that because I'm going to fuck you. It would be nice to cum simultaneously the both of us, wouldn't it my dear? " He crossed the sphincter and pushed his middle finger to the end. P. lifted himself on his forearms and moved forward to try to escape the penetration. But Bernard stretched out his arm and still fucked him thoroughly. Then he pressed on P's head to force him to rest on the mattress. He took out his finger, buttered three, and took my husband's ass more widely.

I continued to suck Andrew, and I felt his cock very hard in my mouth. He was highly excited by what he saw. I gently wanked and pumped on the dick at the same time, trying not to touch it with my teeth. I was imitating a professional. I was also troubled to see my husband getting fucked and having an erection. I touched myself. I was very wet and I began to caress my clitoris by lubricating my finger at my vagina opening.

Bernard took out his fingers and placed his cock on the butthole and penetrated without difficulty. He took P. by the hips and stuffed hubby's ass without restraint. P. straightened up and I saw him grin from Bernard's hits. But it did not stop his erection, although he was no longer groped. He had his tail and balls that wobbled with the strokes of Bernard's cock. "Shake your dick while I take you, you'll see what it's like to cum with a prick in your ass, you'll love it, believe me." My husband did it, first shyly, then deliberately. He slid his cock in his right hand. His glans was dilated to the maximum.