Love and Betrayal

Becci looked at Paul, pleading in anguish. She was just twenty two years old and they were meant to be starting their life together. Nick, a muscular tattooed man they'd only met a few hours ago, pulled her to her knees and pressed her face into his bare groin. His buddy John provided lewd commentary as Nick probed her mouth with his fingers, then gripped her hair and pulled her onto him. He calmly forced his eight inch cock over the back of her tongue and into her throat, cutting off her air.

Paul was filled with guilt, regret and hate, yet even he became aroused as he looked at the obscene bulge in Becci's neck. She struggled in blind panic, suddenly unable to breathe. The veins in her neck distended and her face and neck flushed as she choked, slurped and gagged on Nick's invading flesh.

Becci was petite and delicate, both desirable and vulnerable in equal measure. While Nick unleashed his pent up lust upon her, John held her arms behind her back restraining her with ease. Her futile struggle against him simply fuelled his own desire to dominate her. His gaze was fixed intently on her and her predicament; he was going to have her next, she was so perfect and he was fucking going to have her. He took great pleasure in detailing everything he planned to do her.

Tears welled in her gentle blue-grey eyes and overflowed, tracking mascara down her cheeks. Drool and precum dribbled down her chin and onto the little black Saint Laurent dress she had bought for this trip. It was expensive and strictly beyond their means, but she had justified this to Paul explaining that she wanted to look as alluring and sexy as she could on their last weekend away together before their wedding.

A slap stung her face, refocusing her attention clearly and completely on Nick, then he thrust his cock back into her mouth. The room was filled with the graphic sounds of wet suction and Becci's intermittent gasps for air as he slid in and out of her throat. She was pinioned and defenceless, enduring an assault upon her that seemed unrelenting. It finally ended just as abruptly as it started. Nick tensed buried deep in her gullet and shot a load of his semen into her stomach. He pulled back still spurting, choking her, flooding her mouth and coating her face with an inordinate amount of cum.

Becci retched on her hands and knees between bouts of coughing as John pulled at her dress, attempting to strip her. It was finally his turn. She pushed him back and spluttered, "No! ... No... d.. don't, you'll rip it!" Dishevelled and with her breathing still laboured she quietly whispered, "Let me." John stood back and nodded, staring at her with a lecherous grin. Becci looked lost as she glanced over to Paul, perhaps in part in an apology, in part for permission.

She hesitantly reached behind her back to unhook the clasp and undo the zip of her dress. Trembling and clearly unsteady in her heels, she stood allowing the material to fall from her slender body and stepped out of it. She slowly folded her dress over a chair with great care, then unhooked her little lace bra and hung it by one of the straps beside her dress.

She looked stunning, but also broken and apprehensive as she presented herself to John. She was pantyless, her smooth shaved vulva clearly visible through the thin sheer seamless tights she had chosen just for this evening. She had no choice but to give herself to him in front of her fiancé, a point not missed by Nick as he clapped and jeered, advising John how to "Do the little teasing bitchg." Her shame and submission were complete.

John pounced on her, pulling her down to the floor and pinning her flat on her back. He instantly hardened as he pressed his hand down on her delicate neck. Her succulent pink nipples stood engorged, crowning her pale supple young breasts as they heaved and fell with each strained breath. Her skin felt exquisitely warm and soft to his touch as he squeezed and groped her young body. John leered at her like a man possessed. She was helpless in his powerful grip and crushed by the weight of his well toned body.

Strangely, it was the little details she focused on; that there wasn't an ounce of fat on him, how she could see his bulging muscles ripple beneath his skin, the musky smell of him, the heat radiating from him. Becci was drawn to a scar on his jaw and another over his chiselled cheek bone below his left eye; she vividly imagined the violent acts in which he had attained them.

These thoughts excited her in ways she could not explain. She could never abide an aggressive dominant man as a husband or even a boyfriend, but yet they fascinated her and filed her most erotic and darkest fantasies. In some she was taken as she was ovulating and seeded by a brute just like John. In the quiet moments after her orgasm faded sobriety reclaimed her mind and the very thought of bearing a child to someone like that was abhorrent.

John splayed her legs open and stared at her pussy, then crudely ripped the gusset of her nylons apart, scratching her soft inner thighs with his nails. His intense desire for her overwhelmed her, but in a moment of clarity she realised he had no intention of wearing a condom. Eyes wide and pleading she began to beg him but he simply pressed her wrists to the floor and cut her cries off with, "That wasn't in the deal." She winced as his hard bare cock stretched her vulval lips apart, and meekly complied when he barked, "Look at me!"

John made sure her fiancé knew she was focused on him as his unprotected cock thrust deep into her vagina, and all for the sake of £800. His face contorted as he claimed her and began to slam into her harder, faster and deeper, fucking her like he had to have her at any cost. "Ff... fucking tight lil... little wet WHORE!" He spat the last word out, as he forcibly violated her just days before her wedding, followed by, "Little... cheating wh... whore... aren't you?" The relentless slap of flesh against flesh was matched by her defeated guttural grunts.

Becci turned her gaze back to Paul; her tears had now dried and her eyes seemed strangely emotionless as her petite body rocked back and forth underneath John. Paul had heard about this, about how women can become detached from their predicament at such times. He watched these men defile her in pained silence; this was more horrific than he ever imagined. He was distraught; this was his fault and it could not be undone. The lurid scene was burnt permanently into his mind.

Becci suddenly screamed as John twisted her hair in his fist, then flipped her face down. She was immediately back in the moment and reality of what was happening to her. Nick firmly restrained Paul, "A deal is a deal mate, and you lost." Becci whimpered fearing the worst and knowing nothing could stop it. John's fingers probed deep into her vagina, scooping up the mucus from her cervix and their mixed secretions from inside her to smear over her anus and his cock. In seconds her tight sphincter yielded as he pressed down hard into her. Her fists clenched as she let out a strained yet almost silent cry.

John repeatedly paused his assault on her, trying desperately to edge to allow him to use her body for as long as possible. By the agreed terms he could only cum once. He intermittently pulled back so that just his sensitive glans rocked back and forth through her anal sphincter, and to her disgust switched between her "Tight arse" and her "Cunt". Finally he couldn't hold back any longer and slammed into her to the hilt, emptying his swollen balls deep inside her. He was back in her spasming vagina and she knew at least some of his cum would already be seeping into her womb.

All of the power drained from John's muscles as he collapsed down on top of Becci, the full weight of his body crushing her. Slowly his cock began to soften. He slipped out of her as he sat back up on her thighs, still caressing her slight frame, his heart pounding. He could barely believe what had just happened, and relished the vision before him. She truly was the finest fuck of his life.

Over the days that followed John replayed every moment in his mind, the things he had done to her and the things he should have done to her. Like a cocaine addict he couldn't switch his thoughts off and above all else he craved another high.

Although she ignored all of his texts and calls, notifications continued to stream into her phone even on the morning of her wedding. She didn't need his messages to remind her of him, especially then. John begged to see her again. He even offered to return the cash in the pot to which she had been added.

The painful truth was that Becci had orchestrated everything. Their meeting and the rigged poker game, taking revenge on Paul for cheating on her on his stag weekend. If he hadn't been so stupid to take the photos she'd found in the hidden folder on his iPhone; her birthday was hardly a secure pin. She loved him intensely, but she was cut to her core by his infidelity.

Perhaps her own insecurities played their part. She had been bullied in high school and nicknamed 'Tiny Tits'. She had always wished that her breasts were a little fuller and that she was a few inches taller. Paul had so often reassured her that she was everything he wanted and more. Yet the bitch he was with in the photo seemed to have every physical and sexual attribute that she felt she lacked.

Becci had shamefully conceived this evening in pain and anger. In her careful plans she also embraced the opportunity to fulfil one of her darkest fantasies while forcing Paul to witness it. She knew he was greedy and far from risk-adverse. As she expected Queens full of aces proved too much of a temptation for him. Nick and John raised the bet well beyond his remaining stake as planned and she played her part, 'reluctantly' telling Paul it was OK when John suggested they would each accept one go on her if he lost as payment. She remembered how Paul winced as John added with a smile, "No holes barred". Nothing else would do. Surely the chance of that happening was so incredibly slim and much of what they had saved for their honeymoon was now riding on this hand.

John and Nick were so solidly built and Becci had harboured forced-sex fantasies from her teens, fantasises in which her assailant was young, strong and ruggedly handsome. A man she wanted physically, but who still took her by force. This would be the closest she'd ever got. She had chosen both of them carefully and played her own part so well; her revenge was complete.

Becci reckoned that they were more than even now, and was consumed by silent guilt when Paul cried as he held her and reassured her that he would never let anything like that happen to her again. Her parents had always struggled to make ends meet and taught her not to squander money. Whilst she often rebelled against their cautious approach to finance, it had seeped into her consciousness.

From a pragmatic viewpoint Becci didn't rule out trying to get the cash back off John, and some more besides to cover her other expenses. After all, he had already had her now. Perhaps in a few weeks when Paul was back at work and blissfully unaware. Not because she wanted to cheat on him behind his back, but to protect him from what she knew would be required.

The scratches John had left on her inner thighs that night were still clearly visible; rough red welts marking her pale skin just above the lace tops of her white bridal stockings. Before putting on her wedding dress Becci asked her bridesmaids and mother for a few moments privacy. Once alone she silenced her phone and took several intimate photos of her injuries while sitting on the edge of her bed. She carefully selected one and sent it to John with a brief and simple message, "Look what you did to me." She quickly deleted the photos and message from her phone and turned it off.

As Becci walked up the isle on her father's arm John feverishly jerked off to the photo she'd sent him and swore that she hadn't seen or felt the last of him. He would have the teasing little slut again, one way or another! He edged for as long as he could, with increasingly perverse thoughts of what he would do to her spiralling in his mind. Finally he came hard and strong.

The release was mental as well as physical, but the tension quickly began to build again in his mind and groin. John sat back transfixed on her photo and smiled as he imagined Paul with Becci after the wedding in their bridal suite. How could that man bear to look at the brutal evidence of his beautiful young wife's violation just a few days ago?