T.o.y. Wife

Part 1

My wife Lisa and I have been married thirty years. Having sent our youngest off to college, we were looking forward to the peace, quiet and renewal that should come with being alone with each other again. Unfortunately, my carelessness and an opportunistic thief may have upset the whole apple cart.

I am a business litigator and my wife is a high school English teacher. In fact, she is a very good English teacher, having recently been named District Teacher of the Year. We both work hard and, while our marriage has had its challenges, we have always had a strong sex life. Lisa has always been a very sexual person (more so than I, I think) and has usually gone along with whatever hare-brained ideas I have wanted to explore, as long as it only involved the two of us. So we tried anal sex (she didn't like it), lots of oral, some spanking (she actually likes it), and some sex in fun places. Along the way, she has let me take pictures and short movies of our fun, always starring her, of course. I think she kind of likes the attention I give her with the camera, and the compliments. Well, she should be complimented because she is a beautiful woman. She weighs what she weighed when we married and she has full dark hair surrounding a model's face and deep blue eyes. Her above average breasts have held their perky form quite nicely and she has the most responsive nipples I have ever seen. But for me her ass is her best feature : strong, firm, just right, even after all these years. And since she started shaving her pussy a few years ago, her pussy looks like a young woman's.

Lisa has always been concerned about where I store our home movies because she knows I am not as careful as she would like me to be, especially now that all the kids are gone. Well, this is where the problem began.

One weekend at our desert vacation home, I had brought the video camera and three memory cards with the movies, hoping to film Lisa naked by our pool. The weather was very warm and Lisa got comfortable, so I got some nice footage including one of her masturbating to a strong orgasm and a nice blowjob (all you could see of me was my cock—no great shakes at that). At Lisa's request I put the memory cards in the wall safe in the master closet. Unfortunately, I forgot about them when we left for home. This did not concern me much because I had locked the safe and everything should be secure until we returned. Lisa was less sanguine because she knew we kept the combination to the safe in a small box in the owner's closet. In any case, there was nothing to be done about it until our next trip.

Occasionally we donate our vacation home as a silent auction item for church or other fundraisers and this year it had been purchased by a couple who donated it to the youth ministry. The group had arranged to go to our home the week after we returned. Always willing to help, that's us.

About one week after the youth group had been to our home Lisa called me frantically at work late in the afternoon and demanded I come home right away. When I got there Lisa was at her computer reading and reading again an email, that read as follows:

"T.O.Y.,

My, my you sure look good naked, with your fingers in your cunt. And you are a good cocksucker for a woman your age. I have several memory cards in which you are prominently featured and I need to be compensated for them if you want them back. Don't worry. I don't even want money. I just want a few private shows. Email this address by 8:00 p.m. tomorrow acknowledging your situation and I will give you the rest of your duties. If you do not, I will post the movies strategically around the high school web site, in the teacher blogs and on adult video sharing sites, and your colleagues can enjoy a whole new perspective on their T.O.Y. You'll be famous.

Your secret admirer"

Lisa was practically shaking. And plenty pissed. Maybe a little at me—"You have been such an asshole about those movies", but more at this blackmailer. Her first instinct was to find him and kill him. "Who did this, and how did they get in the safe", she asked. "Do you think I know him?" Then, crying, "What are we going to do?"

"Why does he address you ' T.O.Y.', " I asked. "Teacher of the Year", Lisa replied. "He wants me to know he knows who I am."

We spent most of the next few hours trying to figure out who might have done it, and how to find and stop them, but we didn't have much time. We barely slept that night. The next day I called the church and inquired quietly about who had gone to our desert home for the weekend. Unfortunately it had been a good-sized group and they had had a party in the evening at which 25 or so people had attended from the high school/college group. I did not recognize any names.

That evening it was time to respond and we did not have a plan to avoid Lisa's public humiliation. I wanted to bargain for more time but Lisa was too nervous about what the blackmailer might do. As time was running out Lisa typed back to the sender, as follows: "What you are doing is pretty sick and you should be ashamed of yourself. I want the memory cards returned to me. What is it you want?"

There was no answer for an hour or so. But then a new email arrived, short and to the point. "If you comply fully, there will be three shows over the next week and then you will get all the memory cards. We will retain no cards (you will just have to trust us on this). No one will touch you or harm you in any way. There will be no cameras. If you attempt to interfere or bring in thugs or authorities the memory cards will be sent and posted immediately. Tomorrow night you will come to the airport Marriott at 7. Ask at the desk for any message for Mrs. Behr. Come alone. Plan to stay one full hour. We will start easy. We will provide a costume, and refreshment. You will masturbate until you come."

Part 2

The blackmailer had left us little time to strategize about how to stop him. I was prepared to hire a private investigator to be at the Marriott and identify the culprit, but Lisa was adamant that we do nothing that would risk the exposure of her private sexcapades. "I think you've probably done enough already, dear", she said. But she knew I would not let her go alone so she allowed me to go and keep a safe distance away. I arrived at the Marriott ahead of her, but there was nothing unusual in the lobby. When Lisa walked in she too looked around but went directly to the front desk. I could see her asking the clerk a question and the clerk soon retrieved an envelope and handed it to her. I saw her write a note on a piece of scratch paper, leave it on the counter and walk directly to the elevators. As soon as she was gone I walked to the desk and saw she had written the number 302 on the paper. I found a hotel map and located the room and went outside to try to see it from the parking lot. I could see it but I could not see in. I raced to the desk and immediately asked for a hotel room on the third floor. I asked if 304 was available and I was soon in the elevator racing to the room next door. By this time ten minutes had passed and I was panicked about whether Lisa was safe or alright.

Once in the room I listened for sound at the wall and soon realized my only hope to learn anything would be from the balcony. Stepping carefully I found I could stay unseen and still see a portion of the room where the bed was, but not the small sofa or any other parts (assuming a similar layout to the room I was in). There was a mirror over the headboard but it reflected only to a makeup counter and no one was to be seen. If there was speaking I could not hear it. Maybe I had the wrong room.

But soon Lisa's reflection showed from the mirror. She was standing at the makeup counter in thigh high stockings, thong and a push up bra I had never seen before. Her face was somber and she was looking at the makeup mirror at something out of view. There was a glass of wine on the counter and as if at someone's suggestion she picked it up and took a drink. I felt sick with worry over what was happening.

Lisa hesitated at the counter a good thirty seconds, but then seemingly at another command she walked over by the bed and turned to face the sofa. With wooden movements she lifted her hands over her head and turned 360 degrees around. She then bent forward, turned around and bent over again, showing her ass to whoever was watching. She started to remove the bra, but then stopped and began to pull down the thong instead. "Someone doesn't want the bra off", I thought to myself. Standing and facing the other part of the room Lisa started to peel down the thong. Apparently she was going too quickly because she pulled it back up and started over, more slowly this time. When the thong was at her ankles she kicked it off and sat quickly on the end of the bed. Now she pulled off the bra. Her nipples were hard but they often are when the bra first comes off. She then, as if on command fondled her breasts with her hands and then pinched each nipple. Lisa doesn't like to pinch her nipples so I knew someone was telling her what to do. But I could not hear a thing.

Then an arm came into view delivering a filled glass of wine. Dammit, I couldn't make anything out by the arm. Long-sleeve shirt, flannel type—average size—a man, I suppose. Lisa took a big drink from the glass and then another and set it, empty, on the bed. Next she put her fingers to her mouth to moisten them and brought her hand down to her hairless pussy, at first just rubbing it to get the moisture on the vulva. I'd seen her do this before and knew this was how she began to masturbate. She leaned back on the bed a bit and opened her legs a little wider and started to rub herself. She even started to rub pretty hard but I could not tell that she was getting aroused at all. I wondered whether the blackmailer was really going to require the real article—orgasm-- because he might not get it.

Lisa labored on a few more minutes, three fingers working her cunt and the other hand holding her breast. Mostly her eyes were closed but occasionally she would look in to the part of the room I could not see and say something. Halfway through the hour she sat up and said something stern to the unseen part of the room. Whatever he said back, she laughed and lay back on the bed, grabbing two pillows and resting her head on them so she could see across the room. Then, with her eyes open she wet her fingers again and went back to rubbing her clit. Something seemed a little different now. Her nipples got hard and her legs started to flex the way they do when she is stimulated. She lifted her knees up and inserted a finger, then two, inside her pussy and slapped her palm against her clit. I know this too, and she likes it. With eyes still open she works harder on her clit and her body slowly starts to respond. Now her tummy muscles are shaking a bit and she is rubbing her clit with her fingers. I am freaking out with concern from my precarious view, but I am getting turned on watching this, too. How screwed up is that! Now she is cumming , hard I would say, legs shaking and nipples hard as rocks, holding her whole hand still but firmly against her clit. Then she lies still, without moving, before getting up and walking out of view.

I snap back to reality and retreat into my adjacent room. I need to get out so that I can see her leave, and hopefully see the blackmailer. Down in the lobby, my own erection receded, I see Lisa emerge from the elevator and walk to her car alone. I wait another thirty minutes to see anybody coming or going but I cannot identify anyone who looks remotely capable of this sort of blackmail. Defeated for now, I return to my car and drive home. When I get home Lisa is already in bed and doesn't really want to talk. I told her I was in the room next door at the Marriott but couldn't hear a thing. I don't know why, but I told her I couldn't see anything either. She told me she was pretty trashed, that she had done what she was told and was alive, but didn't really want to talk about it any more tonight. Next, she turned off the light and turned away from me. "By the way", she said," they gave me one of the memory cards. The next show is Friday night, instructions to follow. I sure hope you can figure this thing out, hon. Good night."

Part 3

Lisa slept fine but I tossed and turned all night. I had two days to figure something out before the next appointment. As soon as Lisa was awake I peppered her with questions. Had there been more than one? (yes, there were two) Did they hurt you? (they didn't touch me) Did you get a good look at their faces? (no-ski masks) Did they speak with any accents? (not really). Young or old? (young). She proceeded to tell me the whole story of the hour. She arrived at the lobby, left the quick note with the room number on the counter for me and went straight to the room. When she got there it was propped open with no one inside, but soon after she entered, two men in long shirts, jeans and ski masks came in and closed the door. One handed her a package and told her to put on the outfit while the other opened the bottle of wine and filled three glasses. She said she tried to go to the bathroom to change but they insisted she do it right there in front of them. They also insisted she drink the entire glass of wine.

They assured her they would not hurt her and told her the first night would be fairly tame. She said she told them again that what they were doing was wrong and that they should leave the memory cards and get out before more damage was done. They just laughed and told her it was probably time to get started. Lisa told me she felt sick as they looked at her. They made her strip slowly and then start to play with herself and she went through the motions but she said she knew it was not very convincing. After some time, she told them it was icky what they were doing and she could not be turned on, so they should just let her go. At this point one of the men said, "Well, we're not going anywhere, so get to work. Maybe you need a little motivation". At that he undid his pants and pulled out his own cock. She told me she could tell he was already turned on and when he pulled at it, it got bigger. Really big. He said, "Don't worry, I'll stay over here. But you will at least watch me while you play with yourself and if you don't come by the end of the hour, maybe I will let you go. " So Lisa said she went back to diddling herself as she had been before the break, but she did keep her eyes on the man, and he jacked off while he watched her.

"Sweetie," Lisa said to me, "I don't know what happened but I stopped thinking about everything that was going on and just watched his cock grow and twitch while he stroked it, and I started to get turned on. At one point he told me how fine I looked and that he had already beat off to the movies he'd seen and that I was much better in person. Well, I'm not sure what else went on, but in a short bit he came and they let me dress and go". She paused and seemed shaken. "I don't know what they have planned next, but you need to figure this out so I don't have to do this any more." With that she collected herself and got ready and off to work at school. I sat there trying to make sense of what she said. She didn't mention that she came hard herself or that she liked it, or didn't like it. I do know it scared her.

I had two days to work on this before Friday night would arrive with Lisa's next ordeal. I called the office and cleared my calendar, citing a family emergency. ( I didn't have to lie about that-we had one)!

They had given her no inkling of what would come next or even where it would take place. We knew there were at least two perpetrators, that they were male and American, that they knew who Lisa was, that they did not seem like killers but they were determined bad guys all the same . But age and identity were otherwise unknown. I resolved to go back to the Marriott right away and learn all I could.

At the Marriott there were few clues. I waited for housekeeping to get to the room to clean it, and talked my way in with the maid, but there was little inside . The wine bottle and wine glasses were gone and the lingerie was gone too. No cum-soaked tissues, nothing. The hotel would not tell me who had rented the room either. I asked all the staff I could find if they had seen two men together, dressed casually in long sleeve casual shirts, around the grounds last night. One groundskeeper told he had seen two men dressed like that enter the hotel from the rear and he remembered them because they had greeted him very warmly and wished him a great day. He guessed their age to be early twenties, give or take.

From the Marriott I went to the church and under the guise of general curiosity asked the youth minister about the weekend at our desert house and the guests who had come. He told me the house had made the weekend perfect and the fellowship among the group in the evening work/prayer sessions had been wonderful. "You could just feel God's presence in the room", he told me. They had overcrowded the house a bit, he knew, and he was grateful for our generous, giving spirit. I asked if he had any newcomers in the group and he described two young men fresh out of college who had come to try to get acquainted and involved. He had their cell numbers only and wasn't sure they had even secured permanent places in town. I didn't know how to ask for the numbers so I thanked him and went on my way. I did, however, get their names. I left the names and the email address the blackmailers had used with our law firm investigator and asked him to get me what he could right away. With that, I was pretty tapped out so I went home and tried to get a little rest before Lisa got home.

When Lisa got back she lay down on our bed beside me and went quickly to sleep. I thought about trying to make love to her, but I guess I knew the timing was a bit weird.

That evening, another message from the blackmailers:

"T.O.Y.,

Congratulations on successful completion of your first show. You came like a firecracker, and so did I. Tomorrow night will be a 90-minute event, and you will come twice. We will supply the costume, refreshment, and toys. Same rules apply, you must come alone or your marvelous home movies will be the toast of Porn Youtube. You are to call a cab to get you at 7 and begin heading toward the center of town. We will email the location to your house and your husband is to call you in the cab with the location. See you at 8."

We read the email together and Lisa seemed at a fresh low over the predicament. I asked her if she had really come like the email said, and she said she wasn't sure, that she had gotten caught up in it and tried to get through it. " I don't think these creeps are especially scary anyway, to tell you the truth", she said. " If they were going to hurt me, they would have last night." At that she held me and when we went to bed later we made love and I came in her as hard and strong as if we were newlyweds.

Part 4

The next morning Lisa left early for work and I waited at the house impatiently, wanting to hear from the investigator at work. By noon, I knew where they went to college, what their majors and activities had been and where they had grown up. Of course I had no idea if they were the guys we were looking for or even if they were in our town. They did not have a criminal record, but they did not appear to have done much since graduation—no forwarding address, no obvious job connections, etc. It did not appear to me that I would make much more headway today. In desperation, I called back the youth minister and left a voice mail on his machine, telling him the maids had found a few valuable items left behind at the desert house and could he reach out to the known guests. I volunteered to call the out-of-towners too if he did not have an email address for them. I did not hear back before evening.