Corporate Bodies Pt. 05: Depravity

There was no way I could tear my eyes away from the screen either, staring helplessly as the fat, ugly man fucked my wife hard and expertly, taking his time, clearly in charge, his own passion and arousal kept tightly under control as he thrust himself repeatedly and rhythmically into her vagina.

This would be no quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am fuck. This man knew how to fuck a woman and was doing it well; very well if the speed of Mandy's increasing arousal was anything to judge by.

A grudging, unwanted but unavoidable respect for him began to grow inside me.

The camera changed again, this time showing the mating couple from the side. Pamuk's rounded paunch hung far over his erect cock and my wife's slender bottom, his bloated flesh wobbling grotesquely with each purposeful thrust of his hips. Crushed under his weight, Mandy's arousal was mounting rapidly, her protests silenced, her head falling until it hung close to her chest where her small breasts dangled almost comically downwards.

Then with a loud moan she raised her head high until her closed eyes pointed to the ceiling. She was beginning to cum!

Sensing her impending climax, Pamuk's thrusts grew faster and deeper. A long low female wail filled my ears as the first of what I instinctively knew would be many orgasms rippled through my wife's slender, athletic body. She began to pant noisily, her arms shaking as Pamuk's flabby hips slammed into her buttocks relentlessly, his pace quickening to match her arousal but still entirely under control.

"Oh my God! Oh Jesus!"

Her voice was hard and coarse, barely feminine, twisted by the first wave of her orgasm.

"Oooh! Oh Yes! Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeee!"

A second, much stronger wave of orgasm washed over her and still the ugly man maintained his unyielding, unforgiving pace.

"Mmmmmnnnnnnnggghhhhh!"

My wife was almost incoherent now, her body out of control, entirely at her lover's mercy. I saw her arms buckle, her long blonde hair fell over her face and a third, even more powerful wave of orgasm robbed her of speech entirely.

Her surrender now complete, Pamuk hissed something in a language I couldn't understand. The camera angle changed once again to bring me face to face with my wife's, twisted and contorted expression as she climaxed monstrously, her body totally unresisting, completely at this man's mercy. Her once beautiful mouth was first wide open then tightly closed, then twisted in an ugly grimace as she came wildly but silently before my eyes.

I stared at the image on the screen; at the beautiful young woman I had married being brutally and expertly fucked by this fat, ugly man; the woman who even now was being totally overwhelmed by her orgasms; the woman who had reluctantly taken on the role of whore that she now played so very, very well.

If it really was still just a role she was playing.

From what was taking place before me, the distance between performance and reality; between Amanda and Mandy could not be great. After this total surrender, could she really separate what was happening to the body they both shared?

And having seen all this, could I?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Pamuk's thrusting into my wife's vagina slowed then stopped. They both paused, chests heaving, as if gasping for breath. I gulped in air myself, realising I had been holding my breath; wondering for how long; doubting my reeling senses.

For the second time in less than a year, I had watched my bright, pretty, highly intelligent wife being fucked by another man. The first time, my guilt had rendered me helpless. This time, the terrible scene had been on video and had already happened.

I had been incapable of intervening on either occasion, but for very different reasons.

But there was more still to come! From what I could see with the poor camera angle I guessed the Turk hadn't ejaculated yet and felt instinctively that all was not over. I was right. As the camera zoomed in again, I saw his cock, still huge and very much erect, being slowly withdrawn from my wife's vagina.

Mandy sighed in what to my horror, sounded like disappointment as the thick shaft left her body. There was a movement of the man's hands and hips and a moment later, she let out a sharp squeal of pain and her hands flew back as if trying to push Pamuk away.

A cruel smile crossed the Turk's lips; he thrust himself forward again, producing an even louder yelp from my wife, whose fingernails dug hard into the flabby flesh of his lower belly.

Mandy's voice was low and distressed; I couldn't make out her words, but she was protesting. Pamuk's voice was equally low but had a persuasive, reassuring tone. I couldn't make out his words either, but he continued to stroke her buttocks lovingly with both hands as he spoke, teasing the cheeks of her bottom apart and running a finger up and down her cleft.

He could have had only one aim in mind and was clearly determined to achieve his goal: nothing less than the penetration of my wife's rectum by his oversized cock. At no time in our marriage had we even attempted this, nor would I ever have dreamed of suggesting it.

As far as I knew, Amanda or Mandy or whoever she was right then was still a virgin as far as that orifice was concerned. But it was clear that her status quo ante, if it still existed, was not going to remain for long.

To my shame, I wished hard that the camera would get in closer so I could see better. My erection was now almost painful; was I really watching my wife being induced into anal sex and being turned on?

What kind of man was I?

To my frustration, the camera didn't zoom in. Instead, its angle changed again and in close up, I saw Mandy raise herself onto her elbows then reach for the small evening bag she had placed on the desk alongside her head.

Still pinioned over the desk, she fumbled inside it then pulled something out, waving her find towards Pamuk. The man took her offering, laughed in obvious pleasure, then began to fumble with it and with his groin.

The cameraman had clearly tried to get a better view but to my extreme frustration I was unsighted. When finally, Pamuk's flabby body moved out of the line of sight I could see that the index finger of his right hand was deep inside my wife's anus, turning rapidly from left to right. As I watched, he squirted something onto the top of her cleft from a small plastic tube and worked a second finger alongside the first, twisting and turning, loosening her tight, puckered sphincter.

Lube? My wife had brought lube with her! Had she come that night expecting to be fucked!

Oh Jesus! Had she known was going to be fucked in the ass when she left home? My stomach twisted in anguish.

Less than a minute later, the head of Pamuk's cock was once again at my wife's now well-oiled anus. Again, he thrust himself forward, again there was a squeal from Mandy but this time it was cut off in mid wail as the man's smooth, rounded head finally passed through her loosened sphincter and into her rectum.

"Oh, my Goddd!"

The camera switched to Mandy's face. I could see the shock, pain, humiliation in her expression but there was something else too. Maybe it was resignation, maybe surrender, but to me who knew her so well, it looked almost like delight, perhaps even triumph.

As Pamuk pressed himself further into her back passage, there was more discomfort, more humiliation on her face but by the time his pubic hair ground against the soft skin of her buttocks there was an expression of pure lustful pleasure on her once familiar, formerly innocent features.

I sat back in my chair, shocked to the core. An ugly, fat, old man had just sunk his large, erect cock into my wife's rectum -- something I had never been allowed to do in all our married life -- and she had very obviously enjoyed it!

The action from then on was inexorable. As he had when deep in her vagina, Pamuk began to thrust into her in his calm, measured, controlled way. With his hands on her hips and beginning with slow, shallow strokes, he gradually but relentlessly built up both the speed and power of his thrusts, his cock plunged into Mandy's ass over and over again.

Her moaning began low, mixed with short yelps of pain but quickly grew into a sustained soft wail, reaching a crescendo every time his cock bottomed out in her rectum.

"Yes...Yes...Yes...YES!"

My wife's voice matched her lover's strokes, growing faster and louder as his pace increased, her face twisting and contorting as the powerful sensations grew and grew until all sound was choked off by the arrival of the first real, anal orgasm I had ever seen.

The camera cut to her face again; the look of surprise, astonishment and fear that this apparently wholly unexpected climax had brought was unlike anything I had seen on my wife's face before. Mandy, Amanda or whoever else she now was had clearly not been expecting this to happen. As a second then a third wave shook her impaled, helpless body she choked and gasped for air, her fists clenched then opening wide as her head rose and fell, twisting from side to side.

In all my life I had never seen anyone climax as completely, as uncontrollably or as violently as this before, even in the most extreme of porn movies. Whatever his appearance, the fat man was clearly a sexual expert and was giving my beautiful, sexy wife the full benefit of his considerable talents.

And all this had happened here; on the desk at which I was now sitting, less than twelve hours ago!

On the screen, Pamuk's thrust were growing faster and faster, though he was still very much in control. Beneath him Mandy's knees had long since given way and she was lying flat on the desk, face down, her legs grotesquely splayed, her body now totally compliant with whatever her lover wanted.

I heard him speak again. I couldn't make out the words, but the response was clear.

"Please... Please... Enough...!"

His pace then increased again, becoming short, sharp and much more violent. My wife squealed in pain then moaned loudly as Pamuk began the rapid strokes that surely must bring him to climax.

Loud, wet, slapping sounds from the computer's sound system filled Andy's office as I stared at the screen, rooted to the spot. A moment later Pamuk's fat, ugly face contorted as my wife's had done and with a coarse, almost animal grunt his body began to shake and spasm.

He had finally started to cum; deep in her rectum, growling crude, violent words in a language I could not understand as his body flexed and spasmed, emptying its thick creamy load deep into my wife's bowels.

After what seemed an age, the thrusting slowed for a final time, then stopped. Mandy's moaning was replaced with the sound of heavy breathing. Pamuk leaned heavily against my wife's grotesquely presented bottom, his chest rising and falling as he recovered his breath, his cock still buried in her rectum.

I watched as he ran his palms admiringly over her long smooth back, then around her slender her hips before reaching up to stroke her shoulders with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence with which he had just buggered her.

My lovely wife lay with her head on the desk, her breasts crushed, her bottom sticking awkwardly upwards, still impaled on Pamuk's softening cock. Her face was turned to one side, facing the camera. She looked drained, dazed, perhaps still in some pain but with that strange, triumphant expression still on her normally pretty features.

The camera changed to the rear once again as Pamuk leaned heavily on Mandy's hips and pushed himself upright, still panting. A moment later his flaccid member had slipped messily out of her rectum and a small stream of dark messy goo was running down the back of her pale thighs, the thin dark line eventually merging with the dark lacy top of her hold-up stockings.

Stroking her buttocks gently, he took half a step back, his cock now long, soft and hanging darkly between his thighs, his shirt front almost obscuring the dark tangle of pubic hair above his now-useless member.

Pamuk murmured something which I couldn't quite catch. My wife slowly raised her head from the desk and achingly pushed herself upright, her dress still bunched around her waist, her panties twisted around her ankles.

Her most recent lover took her fingers in his, steadying her as she wobbled unsteadily on her high heels. Releasing one of his chubby hands, she reached for the box of man-size tissues on Andy's desk and began to wipe between her legs.

I saw her wince as the tissue touched her violated anus and my tummy ached.

Then she bent over and with both hands wriggled her tight-fitting dress back down over her slender hips until it covered the elastic tops of her hold-ups once again, then smoothed herself down until there were few clues remaining as to the extraordinary events that had just occurred.

Pamuk took her by the hands again and spoke. His voice was very soft, almost loving and certainly reassuring. My freshly violated wife smiled rather bashfully as if at a profound compliment.

Then he leaned in to kiss her on the mouth again. For an instant it looked as if she was about to offer him her lips and I felt a surge of pain in my heart, but to my relief, she merely presented him with her cheek as before.

After all I had just seen him do to her, why had this tiny degree of restraint mattered so much to me?

There was a brief conversation between them during which the fat man looked several times at his watch. Then he lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it and with a strange, formal bow, left her alone in the room.

I stared hard at the screen to see what she would do now it was all over.

My poor wife stood dead still next to the desk for a long time, her chest heaving. I wanted to see her face; to see the look in her eyes; to see if there were tears and if there were, would they be tears of shame and humiliation or elation and joy?

But the camera angle denied me.

After a while, she took her mobile phone from her handbag, sent a brief message to someone then walked stiffly and unsteadily towards the closet where the washroom was concealed.

The video ended. I stared blankly at the screen.

***

"You have an amazing wife." Andy said softly.

I had barely heard the footsteps approaching from behind. There was no irony in his voice.

"How long have you had cameras?" I began.

"A couple of years. They were for originally for security, but I had them upgraded and, as you can see, several of them are remote controlled."

"Are they always on?"

"Almost always, and there are some in other offices too. In fact, they're one of the ways I was able to catch you and your little earnings scheme."

He chuckled at the irony as troubling thoughts buzzed through my mind.

"Why did you do this?" I asked quietly.

"You know the risks of this contract. You know how much money we could make or lose. It if goes well, the business takes a giant leap onto the international stage, we all get a huge bonus, and your little misdemeanour gets a lot closer to being dealt with. If it goes badly, we lose millions, and I won't need all the Junior Partners."

I nodded silently. The threat to the business was real. The threat to me and my liberty was even more so.

"Pamuk was a weak spot. He presents himself at home as a straight, reliable, religiously sound, family man. He was elected on that belief. Overseas, he has a well-known reputation for welching on deals at the last minute. What's less well known is that he also has quite a reputation for persuading other men's wives into bed.

"We needed to have some hold on him in case the contract went sour. Now we have it."

"So, my wife's reputation has to be destroyed? She has to be exposed publicly as a whore in order to help the business?"

"It probably won't be needed at all!" he insisted. "And if we do need to use it, I'm sure he'll come into line without any need to air the video outside these walls."

I had not expected this.

"Your wife is a very intelligent and attractive woman. You're a lucky man."

That might have been so, but right then, it didn't feel like it.

"Did you know he would actually..."

I couldn't bring myself to use the words, but the grimace on my face told him what I was thinking.

"That he'd sodomise her?"

The word was much harsher than I would have chosen, but I nodded.

"We knew his tastes ran in that direction, so it was always a risk. That's why she had the lube in her handbag. But Mandy was sure she could handle him and that it wouldn't come to that." He shrugged. "Clearly she was wrong, but to her credit she saw it through to the end and everything turned out all right."

If that was Andy's idea of 'all right' then he lived in a different world from me.

"Talk to her," he said, encouragingly. "Let her tell you what happened. I understand it's difficult for you..."

"You're bloody right about that!" I hissed.

There was a long pause as we looked at each other. Then a disturbing thought suddenly occurred to me.

"Hold on! If the cameras are always on, does this mean you have video of..."

"Me and your lovely wife at the Partnership party? Yes of course I have. I was going to use it if you refused my deal, but as it turned out, I didn't need it. And the way things are going with that remarkable woman, I suspect I never will!"

He turned the laptop screen towards himself and began to play the video again. The figure of my wife's face filled the screen, bent over, her long legs spread and with Pamuk's hips thrusting backwards and forwards as he drove his cock into either her vagina or her rectum.

From the camera angle I couldn't tell which but from the pained look on her face I guessed it was the latter.

"This is still just raw footage," Andy said as he paused the video with a full screen image of Amanda's normally pretty face on the screen; her eyes and mouth were open wide and contorted, obviously in the throes of a full-scale orgasm. "The video of our first night has been properly edited now, and by a professional. Don't worry, he's very discreet. It makes a great fifteen minutes' viewing; I can assure you."

Andy laughed then added, "If you do ever see it, I'd better warn you that you look more excited and interested than outraged. It's kind of revealing."

He turned and looked me straight in the face.

"Go and talk it through with Mandy. Let her tell you all about it. I know you two have certain rules about our... arrangement; I would hate to undo the good work you two have done so far."

It was a dismissal and, my anger now largely dissipated, I shuffled towards the door, stunned. As my hand fell on the handle he called out:

"She still won't kiss me, you know. I've fucked her every week for six months. She and I have done things that take even my breath away, but she still won't kiss me on the mouth. I thought you should know that too!"

I closed the door behind me and walked blindly to my office where I sat at my own desk, stunned. For a moment I took out my phone meaning to call Amanda but then put it away, unsure what on earth to say to her.

I barely noticed the four new messages from Yvonne that had arrived.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The rest of the day passed more slowly than almost any day I can remember despite all the excitement of the impending 'Turkish Deal'. I was desperate to go home and confront Amanda with all I had learned and to hear her side of the story, but the deal was my responsibility and the main reason I was a Junior Partner at all.

There was no way I could possibly leave until it was all done and dusted. Three times I got halfway through calling my wife on the phone, but all three times I gave up before the call rang out.

I did, however, finally read Yvonne's increasingly frantic messages.