Turned Inside Out

Turned Inside Out

Chapter 4: A Very Fortunate Man

I reluctantly left my wife at the Wet Pussycat nightclub and drove back home to wait for her. I felt numb after being forced to watch my conservative Christian wife being turned out and sold as a common whore to one stranger after another while I was handcuffed to a chair.

What disgusted me was my reaction to my wife's degradation. Even though I knew she was at the height of her fertility, I had been so aroused at the sight of my wife having rough, unprotected sex with an endless stream of colored men that I had cum in my shorts multiple times.

Even harder to comprehend was my wife's joyous response to the abuse. Although my wife and I had frequent sex as we struggled to conceive our first child, she was still very reserved in bed. For all of our marriage, my good wife had insisted on using the missionary position. It was only recently that she agreed to leave a night light on during sex. Tonight, I had been shocked when I saw her servicing three men at once while she screamed for them to take her harder.

How could I blame her? Abby's college roommate had gotten her drunk and slipped her a couple of capsules of ecstasy. The bitch had then dressed my sweet wife in skimpy red lingerie and a translucent slip that served as a dress. The cunt thought Abby deserved to have some fun in her life and get laid by a guy with a big black cock. Her evil plan succeeded beyond her wildest dream. My innocent wife quickly attracted the attention of the owner of the nightclub, and he decided to turn her into a prostitute. The bastard slipped her a powerful aphrodisiac designed to erase her inhibitions and make her a happy whore.

I was oblivious to the beauty of the moonlight reflecting off the still waters of San Francisco Bay as I drove across the Dumbarton Bridge. My head was in turmoil as I struggled to understand the implications of tonight's horrendous events. I wondered what kind of future Abby and I had or if we even had a future. It was probable that my wife was pregnant with another man's child. What would happen when she delivered a colored baby in nine months?

At the moment, I had more pressing concerns. Jack had promised to send my wife home in exchange for $20,000, but I wasn't sure I could trust him. He refused my demand to let her come back with me. The security chief claimed that if she saw me before she came down from the potent drug, my wife would remember all the disgusting sexual acts that occurred in the nightclub. He might be lying, but I wasn't willing to risk it. The memories would destroy her.

As soon as I got inside our home, I checked Find Friends again, but the app gave her location as still at the club. Had Jack betrayed me? Had they already sold Abby to a trafficker? I imagined her waking up screaming in the back of a van headed toward the East Coast.

I tried telling myself that it probably took Jack time to find an Uber ride across the bay at this ungodly hour. Somehow, I had to be patient and pray that the black bastard hadn't deceived me.

I threw my disgusting basketball shorts in the trash and took a quick shower. I didn't bother to dress before rechecking the app. It still showed Abby at the club, and I got frightened. What was to stop Jack from selling my wife and keeping my money? My threat to burn down the club had earned me a chuckle from the burly security guard.

I was preparing to drive back to the club when a car pulled into our driveway. I was still naked when I rushed into the living room and peered out between the slats of the closed blinds. The back door of an old battered sedan was parked next to the open window. I shivered in the cool night air when I caught sight of my wife in the back seat. She must have lost her purse with her cell phone at the club. I heard a heated argument between Abby and the Uber driver, who spoke with a South Asian accent.

My wife was pleading with an angry brown man. "Please, I lost my purse. I have money inside the house. If you give me a minute, I can bring you the fare."

"No way, missy. Once you're inside, you'll lock the door and call the police. If you don't have any money, I'll take the fare in trade."

I watched the short, muscular driver get out of the front seat and open the back door where my wife was cowering in the corner. I ran to the front door and froze as I remembered Jack's warning about letting my wife see me. I hurried back to the window just in time to see the Asian spread my wife's pale thighs and jam his fat cock into her abused pussy. My wife moaned as the driver shoved himself all the way home in one fast lunge.

The car began rocking on its squeaking suspension as he fucked my wife hard. I was amazed at his stamina. The hardest part to watch was when my sweet wife wrapped her legs around his waist and began fucking back and begging him not to stop. How long was this damn drug going to last?

Once again, my dick got hard watching my wife getting fucked by a stranger. This time my hands were free, and I wrapped my fist around my erection. I must have exhausted my sperm supply because I lasted a lot longer this time. I came hard just a moment before my wife let out a blood-curdling scream. I prayed none of our neighbors were up at this ungodly hour to come looking for the source. Her orgasming pussy must have squeezed the driver's brown cock hard because he let out a string of incomprehensible curses. I watched his body jerked as he shot his seed deep into my wife's fertile womb.

A minute later, the driver crawled out of the back and straightened his clothes. My wife followed a minute later and sat on the edge of the seat. Her ragged slip was gathered around her waist, and the brown driver's cum was streaming out of her pussy. The mother fucker had ripped her chamise down to her waist. I saw fresh bite marks on her savagely abused breasts. She held onto the remnants of her slip as she staggered away from the battered car.

The driver backed out of the driveway, leaving my naked wife shaking in the Uber driver's headlights. Once the bastard was gone, she stood trembling in the moonlight for a moment before covering herself as best she could. I saw several quick flashes of light in the window across the street and knew at least one neighbor was watching. I could only pray that the reflection from his window had washed out the alarming photographs.

My wife staggered up the steps to the porch. I was afraid for a moment that I would have to let her in, but she remembered where we hid the door key. I rushed into our bedroom as she entered the house. I crawled into bed and pretended to sleep. My wife tip-toed past me and ducked into the master bathroom. I heard the shower running for so long she must have stayed in until the hot water ran out. I was breathing hard when she got into bed with me. She seemed oblivious to my presence and was asleep almost instantly. My brain was on fire, and I lay awake for a long time staring at the ceiling.

I must have finally fallen asleep because I awoke with a start late in the morning. My wife had her hand on my sore cock, and she was pulling on it with determination.

Abby said, "Up and at it, lover boy. It's time to make a baby."

I opened my eyes and groaned. My wife laughed and said, "Remember what the doctor said. You need to fuck me often and keep my little pussy filled with semen if you want to get me pregnant."

Somehow I got hard. My naked wife straddled my cock and rode me in the cowgirl position. It was more like she's was riding a bucking bronco in the rodeo. She took me hard. I wasn't surprised that I lasted forever. Hell, I was surprised I was able to cum at all. What surprised me was her dirty language and our unusual position. My hands played with her beautiful breasts. Later, I grabbed her firm ass and rubbed her engorged clit. I managed to get her to cum twice before I finally came.

Afterward, I felt miserable. I'd just sent my pitiful platoon of soldiers into my wife's womb to fight against a couple of dozen armies of potent semen. After my cock slipped out of her well-fucked pussy, Abby and I cuddled while I tried not to cry.

My wife giggled, "I must have had too much to drink with Susan because I don't remember what happened after we had dinner at Casa Isabel. You must have missed me a lot and gotten horny. I think you fucked the shit out of me last night when I got home. I'm sore all over, but it's worth it if we get pregnant. Somehow, I feel lucky this time."

Abby slept late, and I had plenty of time to get rid of my basketball shorts and my wife's nasty chemise. I made myself a hearty three-egg ham and cheese omelet and washed it down with a sea of coffee. I remained at the table drinking coffee while attempting to read an article from the San Francisco Chronicle on my cell phone. There was an interesting report on the Middle East respiratory syndrome. MERS was a novel coronavirus that had transferred from bats to camels before infecting humans in Saudi Arabia. I read an alarming comment from a virologist who warned that sooner or later, we would have another pandemic like the Spanish Flu of 1918. I reread the paragraph three times, but I was too exhausted to hold my train of thought.

I was interrupted by a phone call. The caller ID showed my wife's name. I answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, buddy. This is Jack, Jack Daniels."

"Christ! Now, what do you want? You already cleaned out our savings."

I heard a hearty laugh. "That's no way to talk to the man that saved your wife. But anyway, the reason I called is that the cleaning crew found your wife's purse. I can have a courier bring it to you this morning. I just wanted to confirm that your address is the one on your wife's driver's license."

No wonder Find Friends had reported my wife was still in East Palo Alto. I could only imagine the problems if my wife found out she had lost her wallet and cell phone in a brothel.

"Sorry, that would be great. Thanks. The address is correct."

Jack laughed again. "Since you were such a good sport, I have a gift for you. I was going through last night's video before I cleared off space on the hard drive. We only keep incriminating videos of important people. Anyway, I made you a couple of Blu-Ray disks. The first one is of your wife's hot little friend. Most of it covers the slut's gang bang. The second disk is of your wife. I cut all the bits that show Marcel or my face. It still has several nice shots of my boss's tight butt and his big black dick stretching your wife's tight pussy. I also included the video of him finger fucking her in the booth, most of her masturbating on the dance floor, and her endless gang bang. I think you'll enjoy it when you're both older."

"Jesus H. Christ, I'm really excited. Thanks, Jack. I'm looking forward to sitting down with my wife and watching her getting fucked by half of the men in the Bay area. Just send the purse and leave us alone."

I hung up the phone and went to the bedroom to check on my wife. She was snoring softly. It was warm, and she had kicked off the covers. She was lying on her back, stark naked. My eyes roamed over her gorgeous body. She'd come through her ordeal better than I'd expected. Other than the hickeys on her breasts and upper thighs, her body was unmarked. I left her sleeping.

No more than a half-hour after Jack called, the doorbell rang. I recognized the man holding a brown bag out to me. It was the bouncer who had stood at the door to the Bridal Suite collecting money from the men eager to fuck my drugged wife. I remembered him taking my wife's ass after the last customer was finished. He grinned when he saw me.

He said, "Jack asked me to give this to you," as he leaned forward to look into the house. "I'd like to thank you for bringing your wife to the Wet Pussycat Club. She was the life of the party. Any chance I could have another crack at the sweet little whore?"

I grabbed the sack and cursed him as I slammed the door. The bastard laughed as he strolled down the walkway. I was fuming as I put her purse on the small table by the door. I took out her phone and put it on the charger. I decided to toss the disks in the trash, and I was halfway to the garage when I changed my mind. Instead, I put the discs in the back of my tool drawer.

Abby didn't get up until two in the afternoon. She quickly dragged me off to bed. My wife said we had to make up for missing sex this morning. She waited until after we had coupled to talk about her evening.

"The last thing I remember is Susan and me having dinner at Casa Isabel. I know it was a mistake to share a pitcher of their potent mango margaritas. We had a lot to catch up on and talked for hours. We must have closed the place. I don't remember her bringing me home. All I know is that I had a lot of fun with my hot husband w. You must have been a little rough because I woke up sore and covered in hickeys."

"Sorry, sweetheart, I got carried away."

She kissed me and pressed her warm naked body against mine. I felt her hand tugging on my cock.

"It's Ok, lover boy. I think I like it rough. This time I want you to take me doggy style and fuck me as hard as you did last night. Oh, please mark the calendar with the times we did it."

#

Abby was a new woman. Over the next couple of weeks, we had sex in every room in the house, and we had sex frequently. The manual of recommended sex positions became dog-eared. Another delightful surprise was her new attitude toward clothes. Unless she was cooking, she went around our house naked. I was caught off-guard when after dinner one night, she laid on the table in front of me, spread her thighs, and asked me to fuck her hard.

I was thrilled with my new wife, but I dreaded every minute of the next few weeks. For the first time in my life, I prayed she would get her period. Finally, Abby gave me the news I feared. One morning she shrieked and came running out of the bathroom screaming and jumping up and down. I knew what had happened because she was waving a pregnancy test stick in the air.

"We're pregnant! Oh, sweetheart, at last. Oh, thank God we're going to have a baby."

She jumped into my arms and smothered me with kisses. I buried my face in her hair so she couldn't see the distress on my face. I did my best to fake happiness even though I knew the odds were a billion to one against it being my child.

Abby continued working while we busied herself preparing a room in our house as a nursery on weekends. We painted the room and ordered furniture that I got to assemble. We attended childbirth classes with a room full of excited couples. The sex continued to be phenomenal up until the eighth month.

An ultrasound procedure confirmed Abby was going to have twin daughters. No one on either side of our families had ever had twins. An amniocentesis procedure said the babies were healthy. However, none of the tests indicated their skin color or paternity. I knew none of my wife's partners at the Wet Pussycat had been white. If I were going to bet on it, I would have put money on my wife's child being almost as dark as Marcel.

I thought about asking for a paternity test, but there was no way to keep it secret from Abby. With her strict Christian upbringing, she would never agree to have an abortion anyway. I felt like I was at the helm of the Titanic, and it was too late to avoid the iceberg. What would I say to my wife when she gave birth to a pair of colored babies? I couldn't show her the videos of her fucking dozens of strangers. Despite the fact I had been restrained, she would never forgive me for not saving her. Our happy marriage appeared to be doomed.

A couple of weeks before she was due, Abby took leave from her job. We were lucky she went into labor in the middle of the night when the traffic across the Dumbarton Bridge was light. We made it across the bay to Stanford Hospital in record time. Six hours later, my wife gave birth to a pair of healthy baby girls.

I couldn't believe what I saw when the nurse handed me two tiny bundles. Both babies had blue eyes and pale wrinkly pink skin. Somehow, my pathetic platoon of sperm had used their head start to beat all the armies of semen that had flooded my wife's womb.

Our marriage had been turned inside out, but we had survived the evil that Susan had brought into our home.

#

As I write this story, years later, I count my blessings. Somehow, it was a little easier getting Abby pregnant the next couple of times. All three pregnancies resulted in identical twins. We were blessed with two boys the second time, followed by two more girls. Once we reached my wife's goal of five or six kids, I had a vasectomy since our sex life is still fantastic.

I've never talked to my wife about that night again, and she has never shown that she remembers anything. Occasionally, she wonders why she hasn't heard from Susan again, but she quickly drops the subject when I react with contempt at any mention of her roommate.

My beautiful wife now dresses in outfits that are more revealing but still tasteful. She is much more relaxed at parties, and I enjoy watching her flirting with the men to the dismay of their wives. I find it amusing since I know she will go home with me and fuck my brains out at the end of the night. Maybe because of her Christian upbringing, I am the only recipient of her immense sexual energy. I remember my dad telling me, "You want an angel in the kitchen and a devil in the bedroom." I consider myself a very fortunate man.