The Theft of Our Lives 08
By Tug Coxwell
Disclaimer: This multi-chapter story is a fantasy. While not occurring in every chapter, the overall story contains various sex acts between adults including, but not limited to, adultery, incest, cuckolding, interracial, oral, humiliation, and non-consensual sex in the form of blackmail and coercion. The story, all names, and all characters are fictional. Any resemblance to entities or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. In real life, all non-consensual sex is immoral, illegal, and not condoned by the author. All characters are 18-years-old or older. All rights reserved.
HOMECOMING
Tuesday turned to Wednesday as my horrible week away from home was extended. To be honest, I was in emotional turmoil, as Emma shutdown communication since successfully completing her odious assignment from Hank with our 18-year-old son, Kellen.
I didn't hear a word from her all day, and frankly, I didn't blame her, as the abhorrent task certainly left her traumatized and grieving. I'm sure she didn't want to talk about it, but even then, I needed to know the details, and without them, I let my crazed imagination run wild.
By this point I'd envisioned our good-looking, muscular, vital son and his gorgeous, big-titted mother fucking vigorously in every position and every room of the house without regard for the propriety of the indecent act. I doubt that was really the case, as I'm pretty sure Emma, Kerri, and Kellen spent most of Tuesday out of the house, with none of them responding to voicemail or text messages.
Instead, on Wednesday, Hank made a visit to our house around noon to visit Emma but with the ulterior motive of impressing Josh Driscoll, an important client in his late-30's just now assuming the reins of his family's company.
To appeal to Josh as a corrupt and mischievous kindred soul, my demented boss arranged an exhibition of dominance and submission exceeding the boundaries of acceptable behavior, but also ensuring my humiliation in Driscoll's eyes and those of his chief executives, with the side benefit of embarrassing Emma too.
I was in a final wrap-up meeting in Driscoll's office with key members of their Ops team, ready to close things out and catch a three o'clock flight home. Picking up time flying west, I figured to be back around 9:00 p.m. that night for a well-deserved and somewhat daunting reunion with Emma, at least considering the details I expected her to impart.
'Connect to the video monitor. Put your phone on speaker' Hank's text instructed me when my phone pinged with a message, hoping it was Emma but instead finding his directive.
After a quick check with Linda about the linkage necessary to access the state-of-the-art, 80-inch monitor on the wall of Mr. Driscoll's office, my phone lit up a moment later with a video conference request I immediately accepted, and in hindsight wish I hadn't.
"Oh, Ray, uh, hi," Emma greeted with bated breath and her glowing countenance filling the screen in glorious, super-sized, high-definition color.
I was stunned, not expecting a personal call from my generally non-intrusive wife, especially after the trauma of the last few days, but I had assumed it was a business call since it was sent from Hank's mobile number. Emma's lustrous chestnut hair was down from its usual ponytail and in disarray, and it seemed odd for her face to be so close to the camera to the exclusion of everything else.
"I, uh, wanted to see how you're, oh, doing, and let you know that, ahh, Hank stopped by to check in on, huh-huh, me," she huffed, seeming disheveled and flustered.
"I'mmm doing fine," I answered warily, uncertain how much to reveal about my current situation sitting in an office surrounded by yawping employees and deciding to stay quiet, fearing I'd ruin whatever cruel plan Hank had in mind.
"So, anyway, as I said, Hank stopped by and, oh, he's taking care of, uh, my needs, um, while you're gone," Emma gasped, and it was now clear something wasn't right.
Josh had a wide grin covering his face, as if he knew what was happening and why. The men in the room snickered and even Linda's eyes brightened, evidently in on the game as the lone woman among the group of male onlookers.
"Oh, oh, Ray, he's, uh, taking such good care of me. Ummm, sooo good," she puffed as the camera pulled away showing her torso bent over what appeared to be the breakfast table in our kitchen and someone's hips moving in a steady, energetic manner from her backside.
The cellphone must have been balanced on a tripod or some stationary fixture because the lens stayed remarkably steady and focused despite Emma's irregular movements. Every twitch, blink, and expression on her flushed face was visible in high-definition color.
It now was clear not only to me but to everyone in the office what was going on, fulfilling Hank's ruthless design to humiliate Emma and I publicly, and also curry favor with Josh Driscoll. The cost to my reputation in the eyes of the people I'd worked with closely in the past week was of no consequence and was even desirable in Hank's view.
I'm not sure Emma knew other people were watching or that I wasn't alone. My guess is Hank's text was sent without her knowing for the purpose of setting up his ruse, fooling her into believing she was video casting only to me, and thereby hoping for greater candor from my unknowing wife.
Truthfully, I never imagined Hank was so callous he'd expose her in such a degrading position to a group of strangers.
I mean, depraved sexual performances with other men were extremely difficult for my very private and conservative wife, but at least by now it was something I'd seen before allowing her to grudgingly tolerate the adulterous exhibition.
If she knew Hank was screwing her before an audience of strangers simply for his amusement and Driscoll's warped approval, she'd be inconsolable.
"Yes, I can, um, see that now," I answered as my laboring boss fell into frame, fully clothed in a button-down shirt and tie firmly gripping Emma by her broad hips.
Actively skewering her pussy, with her skirt on her back and her blouse open, my unfortunate wife's huge tits dangled loosely in full view, swinging freely for all to see, and drawing appreciative stares from everyone in the room, including Linda, who I suspected might swing both ways.
Emma's wavering voice made it clear this wasn't an act, demonstrating her weakness and susceptibility to Hank's big cock and ability to use it. The squishing sounds reverberating through the speaker merely confirmed she was terribly wet and aroused, with her halting breaths and deep sighs receiving his full 8" shaft into her sloppy pussy making that fact indisputable.
