Entrapment · Part 1 (1/2)
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As I packed Robert's third and last suitcase he kept excitedly telling me what this trip meant. Personally I didn't really care, I just let him drone on about South America, the natives, and oil, letting it go in one ear and out the other. That is till he mentioned the immediate increase in salary as well as the bonus he'd be getting if he brought in the well in less then sixty days.
Well finally, and at last, I'd be getting something out of this marriage besides sex. I guess you could say that our marriage wasn't a bed of roses, I know I did. In fact I thought of it as a mistake. It hadn't always been that way though. I honestly thought I loved him when we married six months ago, probably because he was the first man to ever show tenderness to me. But then we married and I found out real quick just what kind of a man he really was. Picture if you will Betty Boop, Jessica Rabbit, or any one of a dozen other cartoon broads such as Jasmine or even Arial that some people, but most especially Robert, think are sexy.
Well my dear husband carries it to the extreme because his computer is filled with pictures of them in various stages of nudity along with other pictures showing them performing sexual acts with assorted characters, and not all of them of the human category. I don't doubt that his every waking moment and perhaps even his dreams are filled with fantasies of all those cartoon sex pots. I guess Robert thinks of them as real because he was, and still is, always comparing me to them.
At first I thought it was cute, but lately I think it's just downright sick. Why? Well for one thing he insist I dress like them by wearing some of the most revealing and sexy outfits imaginable, and for another he wants me to flash perfect strangers. It was one thing when I finally agreed to go around in public wearing clothes that most women only imagine themselves wearing when looking through a Frederick's of Hollywood or some other type of catalog along that line, but it was a whole different ball game when it came to flashing strangers.
The first couple of times when he strongly suggested I do so I refused and because I wouldn't do what he said he quit making love to me. Now I'm not a nymphomaniac but when a husband denies his wife sex like Robert did me it has an unsettling effect, especially on a young eighteen year old new bride. By the third month of our marriage he had me so screwed up and confused that there wasn't anything I would or did deny him just so he would make love to me. Because I denied him nothing, and in fact sometimes went beyond what he demanded of me his perversions grew even weirder.
For instance there were times like after I flashed a shoe salesman or a group of rowdy high schoolers that he would pull me into the back of a store or some other nearly deserted place and make love to me. His love making at times like that was fantastic and I thrived on it realizing early on that acceding to his perversions assured that he would love me. It didn't seem to matter to him where we were, in fact I often think he got his jollies if there was any hint of a chance that someone might catch us in the act. In the past month though he's come up with something else, something that he says will make him love me even more and he harps on it daily.
Three or four times I've complied with part of his wish. I've gone without under garments even when wearing the skimpiest of skirts and frilliest of blouse's, but as to the rest of it I just can't bring myself to obey even though he hasn't made love to me in over two weeks.
I just can't bring myself to let another man make love to me despite Robert's withholding his love. Because of this latest demand of his though I've begun to wonder whether he really loves me. It's one thing to be loved and another to be a sex slave so I guess you'll understand why I'm glad he's leaving. It'll give me a chance to think this whole marriage and sex thing through and if and when I figure it out it's quite possible I won't be here when he returns.
Well there goes his plane. Good-by Robert, and if I've got half a brain you fucking pervert, you'll never see me again I silently whispered as I turned to leave the observation deck. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a group of servicemen whispering and snickering amongst themselves while occasionally glancing my way.
For a second I thought of Robert and how if he were here he would insist I strut my stuff and even flash them, but the thought quickly vanished and I simply wondered why the hell they were standing there staring at me. Not that I wasn't something to stare at, what with me dressed in a naughty school girl outfit, complete in every detail right down to the three inch high thick heel black shoes. It was one of Robert's favorites and for this occasion, since it was quite possible, even though he wasn't aware of the fact, the last time he might see me, I had chosen to wear it.
You can imagine his surprise and pleasure at my choice of outfits to see him off and on the ride to the airport he couldn't keep his hands off me. As a further going away present I gave him a blow job as he navigated through traffic, another favorite of his. So yes I was really something to look at dressed in a loose fitting white blouse tied just beneath my bra-less 34C breasts, a pleated, green and black checked micro mini with thigh high white stockings including the little ribbon bow which acted like a garter and even the shoes.
With an amused smile on my brightly painted lips and with mascaraed eyes starring straight ahead I mumbled under my breath something along the line that just because a woman wore a short skirt and yes looked sexy as hell, it didn't mean she was looking to jump into the sack with every Tom, Dick or Harry. that came along. Occupied as I was with thoughts of being rid of Robert as well as my silent retort concerning the soldiers I didn't notice that they had moved toward me. Suddenly and before I realized it I was surrounded by nine servicemen that even as they attempted to get in perfect step with me a couple of them started making suggestive remarks and then one of them grabbed my arm asking how much to show them a good time.
Pulling away I told him there wasn't enough money in the world to make me stoop so low as to even think of letting them touch me. Throwing my head in the air I managed to take three steps away from them before I was again stopped but this time the soldier who grabbed me tried to pull me into his arms and kiss me. Instinctively I slapped him while at the same time almost screaming that if he or any of the others touched me again I would scream.
As I made to turn away the one who'd tried to kiss me remarked "Damn uppity bitch! Your cunt made of gold or something? —- What you need bitch is a good fucking, maybe then you wouldn't be so God damn up-tight" I started to reply but because his remark made me so mad and because it reminded me so much of what my husband might have said all I could do was stare daggers at him. Then without giving any thought that I might be exposing myself I twirled about, totally oblivious to the fact that my skirt ballooned up and out as I did so.
With head held high I walked away but not before saying that none of them would know what to do with a real woman in the first place, Without acknowledging a last derogatory remark someone uttered at my back I headed for the parking garage. It took me almost a half hour of wondering through two sections before I finally located my car. God, I hate airports. As I opened the car door I was grabbed from behind and as a hand went around my mouth cutting off any attempt I might have made to scream. A voice hissed in my ear that I was in for the fucking of my life. I tried to kick out, tried to pull free of the arms that held me, but whoever it was that was holding me was simply too strong and the next thing I knew I was being pushed into the back seat of my car. With a hand pressed against the back of my neck forcing my face into the seat. I couldn't see my attacker.
Panic began to grip me as the realization that I was about to be raped in broad daylight in a public garage with people wandering about surfaced. Despite my fear I almost laughed thinking that just such a scenario would appeal to Robert, but then my attention was drawn back to my plight as I heard the car doors open and felt the car sway from the added weight. As my mind fought with the realization that my attacker had cohorts fingers curled into my long chestnut hair yanking my head from off the seat only to have my face pressed into someone's crotch.
Fear welled up in me but I tried not to let it show, instead I made my whole body go limp in the hopes that whoever was holding me would loosen his grip and I could escape. No such luck. Hot breath beat against the back of my neck and ear then a voice, more like a hiss then spoken word told me that since I didn't want money I must be giving it away. and since that was the case they were here to sample the goods. A hand slid slowly up the back of my leg then upwards over my inner thigh and higher making me forget for a moment the crotch my face was pressed into.
But just as quickly the crotch again drew my attention as the man's cock which was separated from my face by only a thin layer of cloth began to twitch and jerk as if in anticipation of the snickering comment my assailant made wondering if I was just all show, or was I going to be a fuck worth bragging about. The comment drew a peal of laughter from the unseen and unknown others along with a few other nasty remarks. My skirt, already hiked up because of the position I was in was pushed even higher and a whoop that I wasn't wearing panties almost broke my ear drums.
I began to thrash about as the unwanted hand pushed its way between my legs then my movements became even more desperate as a finger began rubbing vigorously over my pussy lips. Then what felt like his whole hand but was in actuality only two fingers wormed into me. Screams of protest issued from my lips but they only came out as muffled sounds as my face was still pressed into the others crotch. Comments about my being wet, that I must really want a good fucking, were answered by another voice saying "I told you the fucking bitch was looking to get laid. If'n she wasn't why else would she be dressed like she is?" Mirthful chuckles of assent from yet more mouths sent my heart into a whirl. "How many of them were there anyway?" I tried to explain that I was dressed as I was because of my husband, that he commanded I wear such outfits, but all that came from my lips were whimpering sobs.
Suddenly I was twisted about and for the first time I saw my attacker. He was one of the soldiers I'd had a run in with and though I couldn't see past his shoulders I was certain at least three, possible even four of his friends had accompanied him. Of one thing I was thankful for though and that was that my face was no longer pressed into the lap it had been, but now with me on my back and my head bent at an angle because of the thigh my head rested against my face afforded an easy target. The soldiers face came down over mine and his lips pressed against my mouth.
His tongue pushed and probed against my lips seeking entrance as I disparately twisted my head about in an effort to prevent him from kissing me. Fingers, probably those of the soldier who my head rested against, twisted into my dark chestnut hair forcing me to cease my struggles for fear that my hair might be yanked out. The soldier atop me shifted somewhat and at almost the exact second his tongue slipped between my lips his hand delved between my legs and his fingers once more begin rubbing my pussy.
Knowing that if I didn't at least try to fight it would seem to them that what they thought about me was correct, I began twisting about and kicking my legs wildly. Unwittingly all I accomplished was in allowing him freer access to my most private and personal part and when I realized this I stopped kicking, but by then it was too late for he had once more inserted his fingers into me. I tried to protest, but the lips that were pressed against mine and the tongue that was swirling about in my mouth acted like a gag, all but silencing me. But that wasn't the only reason for my protest.
His fingers had begun to rhythmically move in and out of my pussy, awakening sensations in me that I hadn't thought possible. Across my mind fluttered Robert's perverted suggestion that I allow other men, strangers, to make love to me, as did my initial vehement refusal. Then like a rerun of an old TV show I recalled his excited persistent haranguing of how letting a stranger make love to me would add spice to our marriage and then his mind shattering confusion that what he wanted more then anything else was to watch as I made love to not one but two or more men at the same time.
And now as if in answer to his request, with the exclusion of him being present to witness the happening I was surrounded by total strangers, with one of their number fingering my pussy while his lips mashed against mine and his tongue whirled madly about in my mouth. There was little doubt that what my husband had fantasized about was going to happen and despite my best efforts, and deny it though I tried, the sensations rippling through me like a stone tossed into a pond all worked to make a mockery of my earlier denial that such an event would never happen.
The glorious feelings washing over me were totally alien to me and it had a strange unsettling effect, so much so that I willingly surrendered to them. As brick after brick of the barrier I had constructed was reduced to rubble my inhibitions fled, leaving nothing to stand in the way of the new experience I was about to be party to. No longer did I try to stop the feelings of arousal that the soldier was awakening in me, instead I let them carry me where they would, and with my surrender my whole body seemed to melt and I ceased all struggle opening myself to him in every way imaginable.
Unable to help myself I began to passionately respond to the administrations heaped upon me and just before my mind lost touch with reality I wondered if Robert had known that it would be like this. Soft meowing sounds of pleasure were breathed into the strangers mouth as his fingers toyed with my body, but it wasn't just his fingers, for the one upon whose lap my head rested had slid his hand into my blouse and was tweaking my nipples. Just as I thought it couldn't get any more glorious a third finger slipped between my moist quivering pussy lips rubbing against my clit and tearing a lustful moan from my lips.
But that wasn't my only response for my hips jerked upward to met the fingers pounding into me in assurance they would remain. The stroking of my clit in almost perfect cadence to every third beat of my rapidly pumping heart was setting my body ablaze with desire and in response my hips began to quiver and dance ever more quickly. Stroking, slipping deeper, twisting about, pulling back, leaving me wanting, my hips jerking upward seeking and then once more the wonderful fingers sliding deep inside me.
Over and yet again the fingers worked slowly and repeatedly on my flesh and as much as my brain had long ago screamed at me not to give how many ever were present and witnessing my humiliating ordeal the satisfaction of seeing that I was becoming aroused, my body betrayed me. My legs parted and my ass began to squirm repeatedly in answer to the wonderful, hateful fingers while my tongue, as if with a mind of its own lashed out to met and then entwine with the one probing into every part of my mouth. What was wrong with me? Why was I responding so.
My mind was overwhelmed with confusion then denial as the possibility that my surrender and yes acceptance of what was taking place was because Richard had wanted just such a thing as this to happen. Or was my now willing acceptance of the unfolding events because I had no other choice and had accepted the fact that each of them no matter how many there number were going to use me however they saw fit.
Thoughts of my husband, of all the effort and time, not to mention the money he'd squandered in an effort to get just such a response from me washed over me. "Were my present reactions the response he had sought to awake
Entrapment · Part 1 (1/2)
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