Don't let this happen to you. Let this be a warning to consider the obscure pitfalls of a walk on the wild side and not just the obvious ones.
I consider myself relatively wary by nature, and not prone to let my cock lead me over a cliff. When I got an email inquiry into the possibility of helping realize a wife's fantasy of being be kidnapped, used for sex, and returned a sore cum-covered quivering mess, while intrigued, the usual warning indicator began to blink red. If you are just a good-natured pervert with a penchant for extreme fantasy and rough sex, the last thing you want is to find out as you are slamming your member into some soccer-mom's backdoor, when she finally manages to rub that corner of duct tape free on the pillow her face is burrowed into, is that you are actually committing felonious rape.
I, therefore, performed the usual due diligence. I insisted on meeting both husband and wife at a public place at which we could have a little corner of privacy while remaining in the public eye. I wanted to talk to each of them separately to ensure that there was no coercion involved. We met at a mall food court at a time that was not particularly one of high traffic. There were enough people for both sides to be confident that if there was a serial killer among us that person wouldn't be able to comfortable doing anything nefarious, but it was quiet enough that we could get an out of the way table at which we would not be overheard.
I wore khakis and a button-down short-sleeve shirt, and was clean-shaven and freshly showered. Obviously, while not falling into a trap was a major objective for me, I was also aware that this was a mutual interview of sorts. I wanted to create the best impression possible and to come across as professional and not the least bit creepy. At the same time, I had to convince them that I had the confidence to take charge and dominate. From them, besides feeling confident that they were both committed to this, I sought to determine that these were people who would not flake out on me and waste my time. I also wanted to make sure the wife was essentially healthy, not pregnant, was someone I could enjoy taking for a ride, and that there were no other probable complications on the horizon.
The couple also seemed to recognize the importance of making a good first impression. The man was clean-cut with wavy black hair, and dressed in a polo shirt and walking shorts. The woman was wearing a red and white floral print dress, and was all made up. She had short sandy brown hair and had a cute face. A nice tight cleavage line could be seen owing to the dress's deeply plunging V-neck. She had eye-pleasing curves and was well-proportioned, though some might call her chubby. I instantly checked off the box for "boneability" in my mind. The wife showed just the slightest hint of nervousness, but nothing that would send warning bells ringing. It was perfectly naturally for a person to have a little tremor in the hand and a slight quake in their voice when meeting in situation like this. The man, on the other hand, was rock steady. In retrospect, perhaps I should have taken that as an indicator of something unusual, but hindsight is 20/20.
I spoke to them both together first. I directed the conversation and eased into it. I asked if they had ever done this before. They said that they hadn't. I asked whether they had much experience with non-vanilla sexual experiences. They said they had limited experience and cited a threesome and a wife-swap that had both taken place years ago when they were newlyweds. The expected line came up about things in the bedroom starting to get a little stale and, therefore, they were looking to spice things up by trying out a few long time fantasies that had been previously relegated to the imagination.
I then asked the wife to give me some time alone with her husband, and she went to get beverages for us. I proceeded to try to ascertain how into this fantasy the husband was. He had presented it to me initially as primarily his wife's fantasy. He may have wanted convince me she was into it, but it gave me some cause for concern. Some men think they will be alright with their wife being fucked by another man, but then envy gets the best of them after all. By the end of our talk, I was confident that this guy was aroused by the notion of another man taking his wife. I think guys that find this appealing fall into three categories. First, there are those who want to be humiliated. This guy didn't seem to fit in that pot at all. He was confident and gave no indication that he wanted to be demeaned as a man. Second, there are those who want to dominate their women in the extreme by whoring them out. This also did not seem to be this guy's kink. He didn't seem to exert the heavy hand over his wife that one would expect of such an individual. The third group consists of those for whom other men's desire for their spouse rekindles their own lust. I suspected this last category best included this guy. Sharing his wife would help him keep his interest in her. The thought that there were a bunch of other men who would line up to fuck her, and the idea that someone would go to great personal risk to abscond with her for the purpose of raping her increased her appeal to him. That is, or so I thought.
I gestured for the wife to come back with the beverages she had purchased, and asked the man if he would extend us some privacy. He headed off toward the restroom to relieve himself. My discussion with the wife had two objectives. First, I had to ensure that she was doing this of her own free will. This was done relatively quickly. Then, I had to get a feel for how she would respond in real life to the acting out of this fantasy. This largely involved a series of highly personal questions of a sexual nature. If she got embarrassed or flustered, that would be fine and natural, but if she couldn't cope with mere questions I'd have to worry about her flaking out.
"You know if you do this I'm going to fuck you in the face, your pussy, and your bung-hole. Are you alright with that?" I asked.
"Yes, I understand." She blushed a little, but it may have only shown because her skin tone was so alabaster.
"You should know that my actions are not going to be about your pleasure in the slightest. I'm going to ram my cock as hard as I please into whatever orifice I'm fucking at the moment. You may choke and gasp on my meat, and if your backside has not been properly trained you are going to be too sore to sit in anything but a beanbag chair for a week. Do you object to that?" I inquired.
"No, that's OK. That's the way I like it. And Don [that was her husband's first name, or the one they were using anyway- we were on an exclusively first name basis] fucks me in the ass regularly." She responded. I noticed that which I found most reassuring. Ann [that was the name she used] seemed to wriggle in her seat ever so slightly. It wasn't something a person would notice if they weren't attuned to looking for such actions, but I suspected it meant that the juices were beginning to flow between her legs.
"Now there is one thing that will probably be different from an actual rape, and that is that I generally use a condom for the protection of both of us and to avoid pregnancy. A few rapists have been known to use them to cut down on the amount of DNA they leave at the scene. It's well know that DNA is extremely effective evidence in prosecutions, and particularly if one's DNA profile is already in the system. However, I must admit that I can't play this angle well because I usually get carried away and end up drizzling or slinging the cum onto my victim's chest, face, ass, or hair. So when I drop you off and you are waiting maybe a half an hour for your husband to get to whatever random place of my choosing, you are going to stink of cum and it may be crusted in your hair. I usually pick a fairly secluded drop off, but someone may come along and see looking like some kind of cum-drenched bukkake whore. Can you live with random strangers viewing you as a disheveled cum-slut?" I asked.
