Final Act of Revenge - Part II

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Coops812
Coops812
170 Followers

It was when I was rolled onto my stomach and my hips pulled into the air that some semblance of reality struck a cord -- that, and the thick finger that prodded at my anus while warm saliva was dribbled down onto my bottom...

A man in front of me had positioned himself beneath my face -- and with handfuls of my hair, he guided my face down onto his cock...just as whoever was behind me began to finger-fuck my rectum!

I didn't want them to continue -- but, even more oddly, I did not resist in any shape or form either! And as I gobbled the smallish cock in my mouth with some enthusiasm, my bum was fingered and my buttocks were squeezed and slapped...

The anonymity of the darkened room gave me a sense of wellbeing of sorts -- my care factor was at an all time low. The finger in my anus actually felt quite good, I thought. Then the thick digit slipped out, and I felt him move in closer behind me, moving my knees apart. He pushed me in the small of my back making my bottom poke upward and I felt him run his penis along my slickened pussy a couple of times...then he entered me...and I went back to sucking the cock partly filling my mouth...

Less than a minute later, the cock withdrew from my pussy -- just as it had started to feel good too! I was about to say something, when I felt him prodding at my bottom! That's when I really should have said something! No one had fucked me in the arse since before I was married -- and it had only been happened once -- and I had been totally reluctant! Not even my husband went there!

But I said nothing...

And, relaxing my sphincter as he pushed into me, I was surprised at how easy it went in -- and I was more than surprised at how good it felt too...sooo good in fact...in a really weird sort of way...

I let them use me without recourse; and they were in no hurry it seemed. I let them manoeuvre me around till I sat over one of them and I lowered myself upon his cock -- all while the one behind me still had his cock deep in my rectum...

...and they were certainly not the last either before they had finally tired of me and let me sleep...sore and abused...dirty and smelly... but absolutely and well and truly...sated!

* * *

"Claire! Claire!"

I shook myself out of my daydream when I heard Garry calling me. Momentarily disorientated, I looked around and noticed we had pulled into a shady wayside stop.

"Are you alright?" he asked me.

I nodded. It had been the first thing he had said to me since we had left the motel hours earlier.

"You seemed to be in a trance or something?"

"No...really...I'm...I'm okay..."

Just hearing Garry's voice, with its tone of caring modulation, brought on a sudden feeling of utter guilt!

What had I done!

"I've got to go to the toilet, Garry."

Quickly, I hopped out of the car and headed for the public toilet block that was made out of green corrugated iron less than thirty feet away.

Once inside, I knelt over the bowl and vomited! Not much came out -- mostly vile-tasting bile -- but it made me feel a little better. I then raised my skirt and lowered my g-string, then sat down and urinated. Looking down at the crotch of my panties, I could see a smear of what was no doubt semen, now partially dry. And I felt like crying.

Returning to the car, I tried to avoid my husband's eyes. My guilt overpowering to the point I felt I would break.

Any confidence I had felt hours earlier as I mocked my husband while I showered in the motel room had now completely evaporated to be replaced by a feeling of deep anguish. What had I done indeed!

"Claire...I remember stuff-all of last night...absolutely stuff-all. I reckon they slipped me a Rohy or something the fuckin' bastards!"

I said nothing, but merely stared down at my hands folded in my lap. I, unfortunately, remembered almost everything it seemed, but was I going to tell my husband?

"Tell me Claire, if you'd been slipped one as well, you'd be pretty much a blank too. I reckon you were still out of it when we'd got to the motel...how do ya feel now?"

"I feel like...shit..." I said solemnly, and I did too, only much, much worse.

"So you don't remember much either?" Garry asked.

"Bits."

"Bits? What bits?" he asked.

I said nothing.

"Look, if those fuck-heads doped you up and raped you! By fuckin' Christ...I'll...I'll..."

"Honey...can we just go home now? It's still a long way to go," I said softly.

Garry started the car and we headed back out onto the highway. The traffic was light and we had a good run for the next few hours. Neither of us spoke much to one another for awhile -- but I could tell it was just simmering below the surface with Garry -- he wanted to know -- he wanted to know if I could remember what had happened...

Ironically, my mind became clearer and cleared as nightfall approached, and with the clarity, came the deep pangs of guilt -- I still could not understand how I had let it happen -- but there was no denying my vivid memory of the immense pleasure I had felt at the hands of all those men!

With the darkness, came a sense of privacy too, and as my husband concentrated on the road ahead, I let my hand wander up under my skirt and touched my tender pussy. It felt puffy, but surprisingly, was not too sore anymore. With my legs slightly parted, I rubbed myself gently for awhile and felt some solace at the little tingles of pleasure as my fingers bumped against my hardened nub of flesh.

I knew Garry didn't like driving too far into the night in this part of the country -- too many animals on the road -- so we pulled into a nothing sort of place that had a few cheap motels and booked a room for the night. I knew if we drove like we had today, we would be sleeping in our own beds the following night -- thank god! And maybe then I could forget?

We had a light meal at the motel restaurant -- neither of us eating much. Garry had a couple of Shiraz's, and I had half a glass of Chardonnay before we retreated into our room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with my husband felt surprisingly uncomfortable. He must have felt it too, because he went to the bar fridge and pulled out a cold glass and poured himself another red from the small selection of bottles on the shelf above the fridge.

"Well, Claire, do you wanna talk about it now?"

My throat felt dry.

"Look, I've been thinking, one of three things may have happened last night," Garry said matter-of --fact like, "Those arseholes gave you a Rohy like they did me...and you don't remember bugger all. Or just maybe they had loaded you up with ecstasy...doesn't fuck up your memory like Rohypnol...fucking dance drug all the kids are using these days...bit of a love drug they reckon...lowers inhibition and can be a turn on for some."

I sat up straighter, as my husband described the drug's affect that closely resembled how I had felt the night before.

"So what's the third one?"

Garry gulped down the glass of wine and looked at me.

"The third one? Mmm...well maybe you just let yourself get pretty drunk...your flirting got out of hand...and out of some bitter sense of revenge because some prick told you a story...you just let them fuck you over while I was out of it."

I couldn't help but snigger contemptuously at that, "You really think I'd risk all sorts of STD's just to get back at you for screwing your friend's wife and getting her pregnant all those years ago?"

Garry poured another glass of wine.

"You don't know me very well if you think I'd lower myself to that level, you bastard!" I said scornfully. I was really hurt.

"So you remember?"

"I remember! And pretty much everything too!" I retorted before I had a chance to catch myself.

Garry looked at me with resignation, slumping his broad shoulders.

"Do you wanna talk about it to me now?" he said softly.

"I'm tired, Garry, really, really tired...and I...I feel so ashamed..." I thought I was going to cry.

"How about you have a shower and get into bed? If you feel like talking..." he didn't finish his sentence, merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled feebly.

The shower was soothing; I let it run over the front of my body for several minutes -- just standing there quietly and occasionally caressing my breasts with a bar of soap. I could see myself in the bathroom mirror as it slowly fogged up -- I could see several small welts around my nipples that had to be bite marks -- and turning around, my buttocks too had marks on them, one of them quite large with teeth marks forming a distorted circle. Surprisingly, I felt no discomfort. I let my hand drift down to my pussy -- and ran my index finger up and down my little slit several times and smiled with relief -- it felt normal -- quite normal, with barely a skerrick of tenderness, I thought, incredulously!

When I re-entered the bedroom Garry was laying back on the double bed almost asleep. His eyes lit up when he saw me though -- I'd slipped on my red-sheer chemise that was his favourite (but I rarely wore). I had brushed my auburn locks so they cascaded over my shoulders the way I know Garry likes -- and I smiled feebly at him.

"You look nice, Claire. Do you feel a little better?"

I nodded.

Standing there by the bed, I felt a bit uncomfortable for a moment as Garry looked me over. I knew my nipples, sensitive to the touch of the light fabric, were quite hard and their size prominent beneath the chemise. The soothing shower and the gentle masturbation had sparked a desire in me that should have been the farthest thing from my mind. It was bizarre to say the least.

"I'm...I'm sooo sorry, Garry, I don't think I can explain it..."

"Honey, it wasn't your fault! You were drugged! And it was all because of something I had stupidly done years ago," Garry said consolingly, "For fuck-sake talk about hold a grudge, the arsehole!"

"Do you think it was Ecstasy?"

Garry nodded, "I've read a bit about it lately...can be pretty dangerous you know? People drop dead from using it sometimes!"

"Oh Garry, I am really sooo sorry for what it made me do...please, please believe me..."

Garry looked at me inquisitively for several moments as if thinking and sighed, "Claire...if it was Ecstasy...or MDMA...it doesn't really 'make' you do anything."

Now it was my turn to look confused, "What do you mean?"

"It merely lowers your inhibitions...or so they say...you may feel love and empathy for those around you...but it won't make you do something you don't really want to..."

"Are you saying I wanted them to...to use me?" I asked, my anger starting to return.

"Things feel and sound a lot better with Ecstasy use in some people. Please don't get wound-up when I say this...it can heighten arousal...but you need to feel aroused in the first place," Garry said softly, "It's like the old saying, 'you can lead a horse to water'..."

"But you can't make it drink..." I finished for him, "So...I wanted it?"

"Well, not necessarily...but the suggestion may have seemed okay to you at the time...maybe it had been a fantasy of yours?"

"Christ, Garry! Fantasising about being... well you know... being tossed up...is one thing. But allowing it to happen?"

"Drugs, Claire...what can I say..."

I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. What my husband had just told me made sense --unfortunately -- a lot of sense.

Laying back on the bed, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and began, "Almost every part of my body had tingled to be touched...the music...the atmosphere of the darkened Clubrooms...the attention of who I thought were some pretty good-looking, but manly type of men...oh Garry...it was all so...um, sooo utterly sensuous...erotic even..."

Garry placed a hand on my bare shoulder and squeezed gently, "So...did you enjoy it...any of it?"

I should have been really angry with his question -- struth; just what did he truly take me for! But strangely, I felt a warm tingle flutter in my loins instead, and I smiled inwardly at the memory, "What do you want me to say?"

His hand on my shoulder rubbed my skin in little circles, gradually working down to the top of my breast.

"The truth, I guess. I dunno why, but I wanna know what happened to you..." he said, as he casually lowered a shoulder strap to my chemise, and eased the lacy part of the top down till one of my breasts was partially exposed.

I sighed again, "Well...you asked for it," I hesitated for effect, "Garry, it was one of the most sexually-energised experiences of my life!"

His hand near my breast stopped moving for a moment and I opened my eyes only to see a sudden look of resignation wash over his face.

"And?" he asked in almost a whisper.

"And! Do you really want to know more?" I asked, shaking my head in confusion, "How does it make you feel, Garry, knowing what happened to me? To your wife?"

He looked at me solemnly, "Geezus... I'm pretty much shattered, without a doubt! It's all quite unreal at the moment..." he said shaking his head glumly, "But...but I feel I just need to know..."

I looked at him inquisitively for a moment, "Alright then," I nodded in acquiescence, "But you're not going to like it..." I paused momentarily, "Garry, I pretty-much enjoyed every moment of it...is that what you wanted to hear?"

His hand went to my bare breast and he ran his thumb and forefinger gently around my long nipple -- twisting and pulling it upward as if trying to make it grow even larger. I closed my eyes and shook my head in confusion -- my confession should not have brought this on -- surely?

"It's alright, Honey, you may have had the desire...but it were those bastards who spiked your drink with the Ekky...and that removed your natural defences," he said forgivingly, "At least you're not hurt...you're not are you?" he added quickly.

I sniffed, "Um...well...me bum is a bit sore I suppose. Got a fairly big bite-mark on there you know."

"Gis a look," he said, helping me roll over onto my stomach.

I felt him lift up the short hem of my chemise -- I wasn't wearing underwear -- and I heard him whistle.

"Nasty...already bruising up," he remarked as he touched my buttocks softly with the tips of his fingers.

Gently, he rubbed my bottom soothingly for several moments.

"Anywhere else...you sore anywhere else?"

"Well...I thought my...um...you know...my pussy...I really thought it would be pretty sore..." I said somewhat candidly.

I felt him open my legs slightly -- I guessed he was looking at my quim for evidence of my ordeal.

"Uh huh...and? It still looks alright..." he offered huskily.

"Oh that's good. It's amazing really, Gaz, I didn't think I'd be able to walk for days!" I quantified for him further, "And even me little poo-hole even feels pretty good..." I blurted unthinkingly.

"Did...did you let...I mean...did one of them really...you know?" Garry stammered.

I swallowed deeply and sighed, "Oh, I'm sooo sorry, Garry," I answered softly, "But it was really quick...barely got it in..." I lied; how could I tell my husband the truth now?

"Did he come in you?"

"Um...I don't think so...it happened so fast..." I lied again. I knew that at least two of them had unloaded in my bum -- and they were both far from 'quick'.

"The fuckin' bastard!" my husband snarled.

"Oddly, the worst part is my jaw really aches..." I blundered, trying to change tack.

"What, from suckin' their fuckin' cocks I suppose?" he snapped.

I went quiet for a few moments; I did not want to have things turn uglier than what they already were.

"Very funny...no...but I remember that for some reason I was grinding my teeth..."

"Or yeah, righto!" Garry paused, as if thinking, "Grindin' ya teeth? Yep, that's another side effect of Ekky's...they reckon some people even break their teeth!"

"Uh huh...that must be it then..." I acknowledged.

"So...did ya suck any of them off?" he added.

"Oh Garry...what do you reckon?" I said, getting annoyed immediately.

"Is that a yes? Huh?" he asked, momentarily squeezing my bruised bottom and making me flinch, "How fuckin' many?"

I sighed yet again, "Mmm...you really want to know?" I asked bemusedly, "Two, I think..."

"Whadda ya mean, you think?" he said, needling me.

"It was dark, Garry, I'm not too sure!"

"Did they come in your mouth?"

I wanted him to stop asking me about it -- I wanted to forget -- but he asked again -- he really wanted to know!

"Yes they did, Garry, both of them! There, is that what you wanted to hear? I swallowed too, every last drop!" I said angrily. I know I shouldn't have said it, but I was tired and irritable -- and Garry was being bloody persistent and giving me the shits. Christ, I though he would have blown his stack at my confession -- I had never swallowed his cum -- ever!

Strangely, my husband went quiet for a minute or so. And oddly, I could feel him running his hands up and down my back, slowly caressing me quite tenderly. Then he worked his way down and over my buttock and to my thighs and tickled me for a bit while gradually working my legs open -- then moments later, he was running a finger up and down my slit. It felt nice and I smiled to myself.

"Sooo...do you want to fuck me too, huh?" I asked mockingly.

"Dunno...maybe..." he said softly as he opened my labia and pulled at my inner lips gently, "You gonna let me?"

"Maybe..."

"Geez, Claire, have they turned you into a flammin' nympho or something?"

I chuckled, "The drugs...they just lowered my inhibitions, remember...your words."

"Fuckin' lucky you never discovered party drugs years earlier then, hey? Otherwise I wonder just what sorta slut my wife would be now!" Garry admonished, but in an ironically light-hearted tone.

Suddenly, for the first time that day, I actually felt like laughing properly, "You want me to give you a bit of an idea?"

"Whadda ya mean?"

"Well...how many cocks does a girl have to have to make her a slut? Maybe after last night I'm already one?"

Garry inserted a finger partway into my pussy, "Um...yeah, righto then. I guess you could be. So for the record, just how many of the bastards fucked you!"

"I don't think you could handle it if I told you," I said, opening my legs a little wider.

"What's done is done, I guess, ya pussy still feel alright...the little thing that it is...so I'm guessin' it wasn't more than...I don't know...three?"

I laughed almost cruelly, "Wishful thinking my dear hubby...wishful thinking. You want to know? Well...if you do me now...you'll be number six!" I said, not quite truthfully of course.

"Number six, hey? Are you serious? Cripes, that would have ta make you a slut for sure!" he gulped.

I could hear his breathing labour for a few seconds as my confession sunk in.

"So who were they? I wanna know, Claire. I remember you told me this morning that that cockhead mate of mine, Mick, fucked you last...fuckin' arsehole...and I think you said the young prick you were standing up at the bar with was first..."

"You remember correctly..." I said softly. Garry inserted a second digit into me and slowly started to finger me, waiting for me to confess even further.

"The good-looking one called Hogan...he was second...he had a really big cock, really big..." I cooed, as Garry tried to work a third finger into me, "Don't you remember watching? I was on the pool-table and I thought you were looking right at me?"

"I don't remember a fuckin' thing..." he said despondingly, gradually driving his fingers deeper into my wet pussy.

"Mmm...that's nice, Gaz...nearly as nice as a thick cock," I said, wiggling my butt a few times as he worked his fingers back and forth. "You see, at the time, I really thought you were consenting to it...that maybe you had even set it up with them? Wow, I musta been really out of it to think that, hey? Anyway...well...then they took me into the bedroom..."

Coops812
Coops812
170 Followers