Religion Can Justify Anything Ch. 02

Lester arrived ten minutes late. "Arthur will be here in a few minutes," he announced. "He was just getting in the shower when I left." He walked over to me, smiled and lowered his voice to say, "And Rhoda was getting in with him."

He walked over and joined the other men, quickly bringing them to laughter followed by sly looks my way.

I seethed with anger.

I've wondered a thousand times why I didn't tell him to fuck himself, tell everyone I was resigning and walk out. Fortunately, I remained, and endured the embarrassment, disrespect and heartache that would later enable me to reclaim my dignity and self respect, and ultimately rebuild my shattered life.

Twenty minutes later, a half hour late, Arthur rushed in, his hair still damp. He offered me his hand and said, "I enjoyed my visit with your wife." He smiled, looking me straight in the eye as he lowered his voice, still holding out his hand for me to shake.

I looked up at him, realizing how much larger he was than me—at least 6'4", probably 225 lbs of solid muscle; how much better looking he was than me—perfect white teeth, thick head of streaked blond curly hair, sky blue eyes; how much younger he was than me—probably 17 years. Physically he was clearly a more desirable mate for my beautiful wife. And he was enjoying his alpha-male status, making it very clear he had had his way with my wife.

I wanted to kill him.

"Yes, my time with your wife....I found it....very enjoyable. In fact, I invited her to join us here. She should be coming...." suddenly he smiled at the double entendre, "actually, she's already come....several times... well, she'll be coming along shortly.... And I'm sure she'll be coming again later...several times."

His hand was still stretched out towards me.

I didn't put down the cords I held in my hands, and just looked at his offered hand. He smirked, chuckled, shrugged and moved to the head of the conference table and began the meeting by inviting me to make my report.

I hadn't bothered to add anything to my presentation, having lost any desire for the job. The only reason I had come was to look for some way to equalize.... to maybe get.....justice wasn't in my thoughts, more just a sense that I needed some type of.....something. Closure, perhaps, before I moved on to...what was my life going to be like?...after today... without Rhoda..?

It was almost an hour later as I was finishing my power point presentation that Rhoda came into the room. She was wearing a new outfit, reminiscent of Ingrid Bergman in Casblanca, all white with navy trim. The skirt fell well past her knees, but it was slit up the front. The jacket covered her shoulders, but exposed a lot of cleavage, something that Ingrid—or Rhoda before the last two days—would never have done. She was also wearing a hat with a net veil that partially covered her heavily made-up face, four-inch high heels and matching gloves.

She was stunning.

Bitterly I reminded myself that she hadn't dressed up for me.

Arthur quickly stood and stepped around the table to greet her, kissing her on the cheek. He then led her back to the head of the table and introduced her to the group by saying, "Would you believe this lovely woman is Michael's wife? She and I had lunch earlier today, and she expressed her undying support for her husband."

I saw Rhoda blush, but she smiled at the men around the table. And I blushed with anger when they all smiled and looked at me.

She seemed a little shaky on her feet, and I wondered if she was a bit drunk. When she sat next to me, I leaned toward her to ask if she had been drinking, wondering if Arthur had used alcohol to loosen her resistance. I know it was pathetic, but I was still grasping at straws to explain why Rhoda would cheat on me.

She whispered back, "No, darling, my legs are just tired." She gave me her most beautiful smile and added significantly, "Very tired."

My stomach lurched when I pictured Arthur and Lester spreading her legs into positions that would have made a gymnast proud. The only encouraging thought was my realization that I was not getting an erection thinking about Rhoda's cheating. If anything, my cock shrank.

Most of the meeting was a blur. I finished my report and answered the questions that were directed to me, but my mind was in a fog. Arthur kept smiling at Rhoda, and Rhoda kept smiling in return, crossing and uncrossing her legs, occasionally wincing, then gasping and resettling herself on her chair. I wondered if her pussy was so sore from all the pounding it had most certainly taken, that she couldn't get comfortable. All of her shifting and moving in her chair exposed the tops of her nylons and finally a garter strap. This drew the obvious attention not only of Arthur, but of the other men as well. I was surprised at the garters, as she had always refused to wear garter belts for me, saying they were too carnal.

It seemed amazing to me that such a long skirt could show so much leg, even with the slit, but Rhoda seemed to be putting more and more of her exposed upper thighs on view as the meeting went on. I began to wonder if she was wearing panties, or if Arthur had kept them, as he had the night before. Or if she had given them to him, as she used to give them to me.

The final insult came when I looked closely at Rhoda's cleavage to see that she had a hickey on her left breast, which she had made no effort to conceal. There could be no doubt now that everyone in the room knew that my wife had become Arthur's . . . "executive assistant."

Finally, Arthur stood up, and announced that I had been chosen as the new vice president, and invited all of us to go to his suite for a short celebration. Rhoda didn't even bother to say, "Congratulations," to me as she hurried to Arthur to give him a hug and say, "Thank you!"

I was leaning over the table packing my files, computer and projector when I heard Rhoda call, "Michael, aren't you coming?"

I straightened up to see that she had her hand on Arthur's arm as he held the door open for her, while the others passed around them. "Come on, Michael, you'll be late to your own party."

I hadn't realized Ben was helping me gather up all the cords until I heard him almost groan, "God, she's a beautiful woman."

I turned to look at Rhoda again, only to see her walk through the door with Arthur. He had wrapped his arm around her waist, before letting his palm slide down to cup her ass cheek just as the door closed. Our future was just beginning. But it wasn't me with whom she had chosen to enjoy it.

It took me a few minutes to gather everything, put it away, then carry everything to my car. Even with Ben's help—accompanied by his senseless chatter about how lucky I was to have such a beautiful wife, and how just as Evelyn was much more of a wife than he deserved, that Rhoda was clearly out of my league and how grateful I should be that after this was over she would come back to me—it took more than 15 minutes to get to Arthur's suite.

When I knocked, Lester opened the door, and bowed to me, feigning respect as he offered, "We've already begun the celebration." He indicated to Arthur and the other men in the room, who with drinks in their hands, and laughing at each other's comments, had obviously begun the party without me.

Lester quickly poured a drink, put it my hand, and gestured to a winged back chair by the door. "Michael, please sit in the place of honor." He then motioned Ben to take a chair on the other side of the room.

As I sat down, Arthur seated himself on one sofa, facing Pete, Jamal and Ron all seated on the opposite sofa. Once I was settled, Arthur began speaking to the younger guys, just as though I weren't there.

"Wait till you see her naked. She's gorgeous isn't she, Lester?"

Pete and Ron's eyes widened as they looked at me. Everyone was waiting for me to rise to the bait. Lester, standing just behind my shoulder chuckled. "Beautiful. Plastic, enhanced and fake, but beautiful she is. And a great fuck, too. And she loves to please."

Everyone chuckled and Jamal shot me a quick look then asked Arthur. "Think she'll fuck us, too?"

Arthur laughed, "That's why I invited you up. Haven't I always shared my sluts with you."

They all laughed.

We heard a toilet flush, then Rhoda walked in from the bedroom, and the laughter subsided.

"Oh, Hi, Michael. I was wondering if you'd make it," Rhoda spoke softly when she noticed me, though she didn't meet my eyes. She had taken off her hat and was holding her gloves when Arthur called to her, motioning to the place next to him. She went and sat next to Arthur, ignoring me as he put a drink in her hand, and put his other arm around her.

Jamal leaned towards her, "Rhoda, I can't believe you have seven children."

Suddenly, Rhoda the mother, emerged. "Yes, I have seven, that is, Michael and I have seven. Our oldest, Michael Jr., will be 29 this year."

Pete interrupted, "I can't believe you have children older than me." Then he gestured to Ron and Jamal. "Older than all of us."

Rhoda forgot where she was or why, as she launched into a narrative of each of our children's accomplishments, then drifted into a litany of endearments about our grandchildren, and was just beginning to describe how cute our surprise baby, Hailey, was, when Arthur stroked her cheek and calmly said, "Rhoda, I think it's time we take off all of your clothes."

The look on Rhoda's face was priceless. Talk about a disconnect. One moment she was the dedicated mother and grandmother, then suddenly she remembered why she was in this room. In all our years together, I had never seen her eyes grow so huge.

She gasped and put her hand to her mouth; her voice trembled as she turned to Arthur, "You've been talking about me."

Arthur burst out in laughter. "Of course, I have. I've been telling them what a great fuck you are and that you'll do anything for my big cock."

For the first time Rhoda looked at me. "Not in front of my husband," she pled with Arthur.

"Yes, in front of your husband. I want our new vice president to see what a slut his wife is."

I started to protest then felt Lester's hard palm pressed to my shoulder.

Tears came to Rhoda's eyes when Arthur asked me, "Michael, is it alright with you if your wife gets naked for us?"

In a quiet voice filled with anger I said, "Of course, it's NOT alright with me. But I don't think my wife cares what I think or how I feel. I know she doesn't care about what I want. So, I'll leave it to my wife to decide for herself."

The silence and tension in the room became palpable as everyone looked at Rhoda, as she struggled to bring herself to look me in the eye. Finally, tears started to fall from Rhoda's eyes, and she began weeping. For more than a minute the only sound was the clinking of ice as the men sipped their drinks while we listened to Rhoda cry, waiting for her to decide. Finally, she shrugged, took a drink, then squared her shoulders and looked at me with defiance. "Alright. If that's what you want."

I suddenly realized that she had been expecting me to give my approval. To accept becoming her cuckold.

"None of this is what I want Rhoda."

Arthur laughed again and rose, lifting Rhoda to her feet as he stood. "So, Rhoda what do you want?" He stood behind her, put his arms around her waist, pulled her into him, and spooned her while still standing. He made a big production of smelling her hair, tracing his hands up and down her shoulders and arms. Then he ran his hands over her big tits and squeezed them as he leaned down to put his mouth by her ear. He was speaking to Rhoda, but his eyes focused on me as he asked,

"Tell me, Rhoda, what do you want? Do you want to stay dressed and go home with your husband, or stay and get naked for me and my friends while your husband watches?"

Her eyes were downcast and her breathing labored. She murmured as she repeated her plea, "Please Arthur, not in front of Michael."

"It's up to you Rhoda," Arthur murmured. I strained to hear him. "You can go home to your safe family and marriage, and Michael will probably forgive you for being a slut for me last night and today. But if you ever want me to fuck you with my big cock again, you're going to get naked, right now, then fuck me, and fuck all my friends in front of your husband. If you won't fuck them, then go home now. But if you go, you'll never feel my cock inside you again."

Rhoda looked at me, then turned her head in shame before she shrugged and nodded her head. Arthur chuckled as he ran his hands over her thighs, stroking her pussy, then grasping and squeezing her tits again. Her involuntary flinch made it obvious that he was pinching her nipples. "Say it out loud!" he commanded. "Tell me exactly what you want!"

In a feeble voice she answered, "I want to...to get naked, and...for...for you to.....to fuck me."

Arthur laughed, and gave a fist pump, celebrating his victory while the guys joined in excited laughter.

My heart sank at this humiliation, and I started to get up to leave, only to feel Lester's large hands putting pressure on my shoulders.

"Not yet!" he told me.

As Arthur took Rhoda's jacket off her and tossed it toward the couch and began to undo the buttons on the back of her blouse he kept his eyes on mine. "I want you to stay for a while, Michael, as this is really for you. I want you to know what a slut your wife is."

Rhoda's blush was deeper than I had ever seen. Her breathing grew ragged and she was choking, trying to hold in her sobs of shame as her dress fell to the floor exposing her to all of us in her halter top, slip, stockings and shoes. She grabbed Arthur's hands and turned to look at him, "Please let him go. I don't want him here."

"Well, Rhoda, there's a legal reason why we need him here."

"Lester, time for your phone."

Jamal quickly got off the couch and walked over to my left to put his hand on my shoulder, effectively keeping me seated, allowing Lester to let go of my right shoulder and move toward the center of the room as he pulled out his cell phone.

"You recording?" Arthur asked him.

I looked back to Lester who had lifted his cell phone to use as a video camera. "Yeah. We're live."

"Smile for the camera, Rhoda."

"Please don't take pictures of me."

"Why not? We took all kinds of pictures and videos of you this afternoon. We recorded you losing your anal cherry for all posterity to see."

Everyone but me laughed as Rhoda hung her head and blushed even deeper.

"Now, this is official. Do you acknowledge, Rhoda Riley, that you are about to engage in sexual acts of your own free will, with a clear understanding that there is no economic reward, payment or incentive for doing so?"

Rhoda looked confused. "What?"

All the men laughed.

"Do you admit that you're going to fuck all of us simply because you want to? Knowing that neither you nor your husband will earn or gain anything of monetary value or professional advancement by fucking us?"

Rhoda's blush turned even darker. She didn't respond. Suddenly she flinched, obviously in response to Arthur's pinching of her nipples again.

"Yes," she whispered. Arthur smiled, and lowered his hands to Rhoda's waist as he pulled her back to hold her tight.

Then all of the men turned to face me, including Lester with his phone/camera, and Arthur asked, "And Michael Riley, do you acknowledge that Rhoda's decision to give me and my friends complete sexual access to all of her body, including all of her orifices and both breasts for our unrestrained and unlimited enjoyment, will not give you any grounds for any type of civil or criminal action against any of us? And that you particularly acknowledge that no company or corporate policies regarding non-fraternization nor federal policies relative to sexual harassment will have been violated by Rhoda's willing and generous offer of her sexual favors granted without limit to all of us present?"

Everyone looked at me as silence filled the room.

"Then let it be witnessed by all present that Michael Riley's silence is an acknowledgement of the aforementioned conditions, as he has declined to state that he denies the veracity of any of my statements."

What was the use of saying, "No?" Even with my limited knowledge of law, I knew that this so called disclaimer had limited legal value, but was mostly intended to weaken any resolve I might have had to stop Rhoda from doing what she clearly wanted to do.

In response to my silence, all of the guys gave each other high fives or bones, celebrating my silence by hissing "Yes" to each other.

Then a sudden clarity filled my brain. It was almost as though the whole procedure had been rehearsed. "They've done all of this before," I whispered to myself. Rhoda was not the first woman seduced, humiliated and denigrated by Arthur and his friends. And I was not the first husband to sit through this denigration and humiliation. Just thinking of how Lester held me restrained until Jamal walked over to put his hand on my other shoulder so that Lester could respond to Arthur's direction to get out his phone to record Rhoda's assent in their little legal drama, let me know they'd done this before.

I refocused my thoughts on the present as Arthur returned his full attention to Rhoda. He turned her to face me, then untied her halter top, causing her breasts to fall free.

"Thanks for the great tits, Michael. I'm sure they cost you a small fortune. I'll make sure you get your money's worth." Everyone laughed, except Rhoda and me. He pulled on her nipples, twisting and pinching them. "Yeah guys," he turned to Ron and Pete, "I know they're fake, but they are beautiful. Rhoda, your tit surgeon is an artist." All the men laughed.

When he pushed her skirt off her hips, leaving her in only a half slip he said, "And now for the grand finale," as he pulled the slip down exposing her naked pussy.

I gasped.

"How do you like it Michael? I think Lester and I did a good job of shaving your wife's pussy. We made sure to get every little fold and crease, to make sure your wife's crotch was as hairless and smooth as a cue ball. We took pictures of every step to prove it. It's tragic, Michael, that she has never let you enjoy her bald pussy. Guess you're just not that important to her."

Humiliation was obviously a very powerful aphrodisiac to Rhoda. Her pussy juices were coating the insides of her legs, dripping, almost pouring, out of her. I had never seen her so aroused. Her juices had dripped past her knees, drenching her nylons and garters—garters and nylons, something I had never seen her in before.

"Turn around and bend over so that your loving husband can see the butt plug I put in you."

Rhoda started to protest, then meekly turned her back to me, bent forward, reached back and spread her ass.

Now I understood why she had been so uncomfortable sitting next to me. The circle loop protruding from her ass must have been two inches in diameter—not to mention what must be inside her ass.

Arthur reached around her, grabbed both her ass cheeks and commanded, "Now push it all out."

This was the coup d'grace, the ultimate humiliation.

All the guys laughed at the farting, pooping, squirting sounds Rhoda's asshole made as she grunted, as she pushed.

"I can't," she complained, "Just pull it out, please."

Everyone laughed again, except Rhoda and me.

"Push you lazy slut!" Arthur gave her ass cheeks a vicious slap. Rhoda screamed!

I wanted to kill him.

She begged him, "I'll do it, just give me a minute." Finally, after more degrading sphincter sounds, and lots of grunting and groaning, she managed to push out the butt plug to allow the remnants of their creampies to gush out and run down her legs.

Everyone cheered.

Except for the Rileys.