Cucking the Snowbound Couple Ch. 07

I took a deep snuffling breath.

"Hey, don't despair," Brett put on a big grin. His huge cock was still in his hand. He was pumping it slowly. He waited until I glanced down at it. It was hard and enormous. His fingers barely encircled the shaft. "Take a good long look at it." He told me. "Because in a minute, this is going to be balls deep in your wife."

He laughed as he stood, and collected his cell phone. He dropped it into my lap. "Since you like snooping through people's photos so much, I'll save you trouble. Your wife and I traded numbers. Hers is in the bedroom. Tonight we'll add some more pics to my collection. I'll send them to you as we take them."

He grinned brightly and swaggered to the bedroom. He took his time, flexing and strutting along the way. He didn't have to make any effort to hurry or hide it now. The war was over. He'd won, and now he was going to enjoy the spoils.

He glanced over his shoulder as he reached the threshold to my honeymoon bedroom. The one that Alex and I had picked out from photos on the internet and cooed over how cozy and cute it was. "What do you think is worse?" He asked me. "Seeing us doing it? Or imagining us doing it? You'll probably get plenty of both."

Then he kicked the door shut behind him.

For the next several days, I was treated to a living hell. But one thing at a time...

To go back to my opening paragraph from the very first chapter— I should have seen it coming. Because here I sit, listening in anticipation to the sound of their fucking to commence...

And commence it did. The phone in my lap lit up and I was treated to the sight of Alex on the bed, laying on her belly like she was posing for a nude magazine. Her feet were in the air behind her, kicking back and forth. Her chin was propped up on her hands. Her eyes were half shut and lusty as they peered at the man taking the photo. She didn't have to fake her expression. She was swooning over the man holding the camera. That much was apparent.

The caption read: "Look at this hot piece of ass that you let me steal. Loser."

Then the photo faded as the screen dimmed. I pulled on my ropes and duct tape. I felt around with what little movements I had. Where was Indiana Jones' lighter when I needed it? Or MacGyver's pocket knife? Getting out of being bound isn't like the movies. At least not for me. There wasn't some miracle mistake that Brett made that would allow for my inevitable escape. There was no rough edge for me to rub my ropes against.

A minute later and the phone came to life again. It was a close-up of the tip of Brett's throbbing member. The head of his cock and a set of lips dangerously close. The tongue just barely touching his skin. It could have been any generic picture, but I recognized that tongue and those lips.

"Were these the lips that said their vows to you at the altar?" He taunted. "Because they're saying their own vows to me right now..."

From the bedroom, I could hear the soft sounds of moans and giggles. I knew they were talking while they were fooling around. I felt sick. It's hard to describe how I felt really. Despair and defeat for sure— part of me wanted to die. The heartbreak was overwhelming. There was nothing I could do but sit in the dark by the fire, and reflect on everything over this past week, like an eternal punishment. But I also very much wanted to get away. Part of me had legitimately grown concerned that they might try to kill me. That they had both gone off the deep end, and after tying me up, might sooner or later realize that there was no undoing how terrible and cruel they'd become. I felt a fear for my life. Was I suffering from cabin fever? Or... were they? Were they really the ones who were so caught up in each other, and so far removed from all of the world's laws and morals, that they completely abandoned them and embraced their inner savage?

The next time the phone lit up, it was a video. A short clip of only a few seconds. Alex was holding Brett's girthy member in her hand. Her legs kicking slowly behind her, still laying on her stomach— her plump ass looking amazing with that tight little thong disappearing between her round white mounds. She stared into the camera as she stroked him. "He's soooo big." She said, explaining it like she'd merely chosen the obvious option. Then she plunged her lips around his cock, and the video cut off with Brett's pleasant moan.

God, was I actually sporting an erection? The bulge in my lap beside the phone was apparent. My heart was pounding. My body was shaking. Just what the hell was this? I shook those thoughts away. Don't start that shit, I told myself. This was past the point of sexual desire. This was downright torture in its cruelest form.

The phone buzzed again. Another short video. This time, Alex was on her back. Her dark hair in a halo behind her head. Her hand was between her legs, fingering herself feverishly. Brett's cock hovered above her face. She flicked his member with her tongue, and each time she did, his cock bobbed and swayed. "You know you fuckin' like this," she said to me through the screen. "Just admit it." Then the video cut off a second after both she and Brett started to giggle like they were sharing in a joke.

My cock was harder than ever. Jesus Christ, what game were they playing? I was familiar with the concept of cuckoldry— where the husband embraces his wife taking other lovers and watches. Were they actually tying me up and force feeding me this fetish? Was this some weird brainwashing strategy to sell me on the idea too?

The next video clip was a simple one. A close up of my wife's pink wet pussy, shot from between her thighs. Her fingers were dancing on her clit in fast little circles. Brett sent a text message a moment later. "Enjoying the show, pervert? I know you are."

My cock jumped happily in my pants, defying my heartbreak.

I knew exactly what was happening. Brett had already taken control of my wife's mind, in a way. Now he was trying to take control of mine. Did Stockholm Syndrome apply here? Maybe. Maybe this was some sort of weird Clockwork Orange brainwashing attempt. Force me to see this, to live with this, to accept this and embrace it as my reality. I was right in my assessment. This wasn't just about him getting laid and stealing my wife. This was about him owning us both. Possessing us in every facet possible.

The next short clip was a video of Brett's big manly fingers probing in and out of my wife's pussy. He had taken over pleasuring her. His fingers slid in and out of her, coming away soaked and wet. Alex was moaning the whole time. I could hear her in both the video and the bedroom.

I looked at the hardness in my pants and I understood something. I thought my fistfight with Brett had been my last stand. But this was the real moment. The true battle wasn't being fought between me and Brett. It was being fought within myself. My cock and my heart were in a tug of war. The battlefield was Alex, and the prize was ultimately however I would chose to see myself when all of this was over. I guess every conflict all boils down to man versus himself. My soul was at stake.

Another video. Alex was up on her knees now. She was utterly gobbling Brett's member in a complete simple minded goal, like she had no other thoughts in the world other than Brett's immediate pleasure. Her head moved and pivoted. Her hands worked vigorously— one pivoting and twisted as she stroked him toward her mouth, the other hand petting and coaxing his balls. Brett let out a long moan of pleasure that I could hear through the door. Alex's mouth popped off of his cock audibly and she tilted his member to the sky and took one long sexy lick that started at his balls and ran all the way up to his head.

A moment later and a text message came through. "We're never going to stop. Hope you're okay with that!"

I looked at my tent in my pants. My cock was throbbing happily, like a dog wagging its tail without a conscious thought in the world. But I was ashamed of it. Not the size, but for willfully going along with this. This was my wife, and my cock didn't care! How would this end? When this was all over, how would I see myself in the long term? Would I assume the role of a beta in every aspect of my life? Would I roll over and acquiesce to the desires of every man who even remotely intimidated me? Would I cry stupidly accept this as my role in life, sobbing myself to sleep every night about how cruel and unfair the world is? Or would I use this anguish to rebuild myself? Would I look at this scar every day and say 'Never again'. Maybe there was a way my life would be better once this was over. It seemed so far away. Nearly impossible. Like a tiny flicker at the end of a very long tunnel. But that flicker was warm, no matter how cold and dark I felt. Maybe that flicker was a fire worth feeding...

The next video was my wife on all fours. She was shaking her ass at the camera and peering over her shoulder. She was biting the tip of her finger and looking crazy sexy. "How badly do you want to see me put it in her?" Brett's cock entered the shot and stopped just shy of touching that juicy wet pussy.

"Please Sean," Alex pleaded with the camera, sounding out of breath and desperate with lust. "Please say it's okay for Brett to fuck me. Please. I need my man to fuck me. I need Brett more than I've ever needed anything."

The video cut out. Again, I knew what they were doing. It wasn't up to me at this point. They were going to fuck regardless. They were playing a cruel mind game. They had broken me down and were trying to remold my shattered confidence into what they wanted it to be, marketing this adultery as though it was up to me— that I had a choice in my love life. It was an illusion.

A second later and I heard the sound of Alex's cries of pleasure. They hadn't waited long. I knew what that sound meant. Brett was inside of her now. And as if to confirm it, the phone lit up again. The video was shaky and unsteady. Brett was holding my wife with one hand by the hips. She was face down on the pillows, her head turned to one side. Her eyes shut and her mouth open. She was moaning as Brett's cock disappeared from view beneath her plump ass cheeks, like a magic trick— making the giant pipe appear and disappear over and over.

Finally the camera spun and faced Brett. He put on his biggest douche-bag face, like Fred Durst making his 'Oh face'. "We're going to be busy for a while, loser. Don't wait up!" He cried out. He tossed the phone down, and it landed beside my wife. The last thing I saw before the image cut out was her open mouth gasping and moaning, and her perky tits swaying excitedly as their bodies moved.

Then the screen went black. The cabin filled with the sounds of wild fucking. Alex's moans turned to screams of pleasure. Brett hooted and hollered, sounding like a drunk monkey. He really wanted to drive his point home.

Though the phone didn't light up again, there was no reprieve. I tried to shut my eyes and think about something else. Anything else really. But the reality was just that— I was tied to a post with my wife's panties taped into my mouth, listening to the eager sounds of my wife giving herself over to another man, on my own honeymoon!

There was no place for me to go! And no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts did a heartbreaking dance between reflecting on the happy times of my marriage, and the awful things that she was doing now.

"You're a slut, aren't you?" Brett cried out from the bedroom.

"Yes!" Alex cried out, as agreeable to these statements as ever. "I'm a big one! I'm a huge slut!" She shouted it with such conviction, that I was positive something had broken in her as well. She actually believed it. Brett truly had what he wanted.

"You always were," Brett moaned out happily. "You just needed a real man to show you that!"

"Don't stop, Brett," Alex cried out.

Their fucking was at fever pitch. The bed slamming off the walls once again. This wasn't the slow passion of before. Now they knew they had each other. Now they were taking each other to new limits— seeing how rough they could play with their new toys. And from their bodies, they could play rough for a long long time.

They were both crying out like wild animals. This time several photos fell off of the walls and crashed to the floor.

"Flip me over!" Alex moaned out through their passion. "I want to look up at my man as he takes me!"

There was a thump as Alex eagerly flipped onto her back. Then their powerful lovemaking resumed. In my mind, I could see those long legs wrapped around his waist. The bed was making wild knocking sounds. She must have been bucking her ass off of the mattress to meet each of his thrusts.

"Ohhhh! Ohhhhh!" Alex's voice roared through the lonely cabin walls, and pierced my heart like daggers.

I no longer felt hurt by her betrayal. I was coming to terms with that. What hurt me now was her deliberate cruelness. She wasn't being uninhibited. They were having sex, not inventing it. All of this theater was simply to hurt me. To drive it home.

Their cries into the night reached a crescendo as they both achieved climax at nearly the same time. "Where do you want me to cum?" Brett cried out.

"Inside of me!" Alex echoed back. "Oh god, inside of your little slut! I want to feel it!"

Their voices sang out a twisted duet of pleasure as Brett pumped his seed into my wife's body. Her pussy taking it all, accepting him inside of her, embracing the ruination of our nuptials.

Then merciful silence descended on the cabin.

After a few minutes, the bedroom door opened, and Brett emerged. He was sweaty and exhausted. His body naked, and his attitude was unabashed about it. "Hey loser." He declared as he made his way to the kitchen.

He took a moment to pause and wipe his brow with the back of his arm. "Whew, that girl is an animal in bed. Not that you'd know," He remarked as he retrieved some water.

In the open bedroom, I caught a glimpse of my wife on her back. Her head was turned to one side. Her eyes shut, and her mouth open, cutely showing her front teeth. Her bare chest rose and fell as she caught her breath in her post-sex bliss. She looked like a princess on her wedding night, having experienced the real pleasure that her body was capable of for the first time.

Brett returned to the door and offered me a wink. Alex sat up and greeted her new man as he stepped into the room with large smitten eyes. Then the door was shut.

At some point, I let the fire lull me to sleep, despite the uncomfortable position I was seated in.

***

Sleep didn't come easy, as you might expect. You try sleeping upright with your body bound, and fighting not to swallow the thong in your mouth and you'll understand.

I woke up to the feeling of someone pawing at my pants. I blinked, a part of me sincerely hoping that this whole week had been one awful nightmare that I was about to awaken from. No such luck. I knew it was all real instantly.

Alex was standing in front of me wearing her robe. The sun was streaming through the sky lights and windows. Maybe that was the light at the end of the tunnel— the sun was out. Did that mean the snow had melted, or was melting? I prayed to god that was true, but even if so... they would need to untie me for me to leave this shit hole.

I looked at her, wondering what she was doing. She was rubbing her hand around the crotch of my pants, like she was searching for something. I momentarily wondered if she was trying to play with my cock, as some weird sex game to include me.

Finally she frowned as she stood up. "He didn't cum in his pants," she declared finally.

"What's the matter, quick draw?" Brett was standing nearby. Again, he was naked. No surprise there. He was sipping a cup of steaming coffee. "Wasn't my picture show hot enough for you?"

Alex stepped back and folded her arms. She wore a 'What do I do?' expression that I didn't fully understand. She glanced at Brett sadly as though she let him down.

Brett looked at me thoughtfully. "Hmm... I just don't think Sean appreciates how well the camera captures you." He told Alex. "I think Sean needs to see us in action face to face..."

He strode behind my wife. "He needs to accept our relationship. And he needs to accept his role as the little beta bitch that he is." Brett stood behind Alex, wrapped his arms around her, and opened her robe.

He revealed the final betrayal. Alex and I hadn't fucked on our wedding night. The reason was a simple one— we were both too exhausted and drunk. We'd danced and sweated and partied. Anyone who's been married can testify that your wedding is one of the least sexy nights of your life by the end.

To make up for that, Alex had purchased something special for our honeymoon— bridal lingerie. This was the first time I was seeing her in her outfit. I couldn't help but feel like it was a symbolic gesture— the new life that she was marrying into.

A matching pair of lace white panties and bra. The bra was cupless, keeping her already perky tits hiked up even further. Her pink nipples pointed straight at me. Her thong was skimpy, showing the smooth bare skin above her pussy. She'd recently shaved and carefully groomed for this "special" occasion. She was in white thigh high stockings, complete with straps. A frilly garter rounded out the look, clinging to one thigh. The garter toss that we'd forgone.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me instantly hard. But for some reason, Brett was determined to put on a show so hot that it made me cum in my pants. I was determined not to give him that satisfaction.

"You like it?" She said, even as Brett began to caress her from behind. He kissed her neck, the two of them staring at me with evil intentions and contempt. "I picked it out for you... but I'm glad we found someone who really appreciates it."

She bit her lip, staring at me. I could see the conflict in her eyes. She wasn't used to being this way— taunting me for sexual pleasure. But then she reached her hands behind her back and felt for Brett's unrestrained manhood. It wasn't hard to find it. The moment her hands touched him, her eyes widened and she let out a sigh of pleasure. I knew what I was seeing. She was opening a new door— she was discovering that she enjoyed the cruelty. It empowered her. It turned her on in ways that she had never discovered before.

She slowly started to jerk Brett's cock behind her back, all while the two stared at me. She thrust her chest out teasingly until Brett moved his hands from her hips slowly upward. He found her breasts, and cupped them easily in each large hand. His fingers found her nipples and he gave them a twist.

She shut her eyes and moaned, all the while Brett sneered at me with that evil smile.

Their intention behind this display was painfully obvious— the woman that I loved, and this stranger had become metaphorical vampires that were feeding off of my humiliation...

But despite my predicament, that realization came down on me like a warm blanket. I had no more anguish left in me. Because staring into their faces, I realized that I wasn't the problem. And I had never been. Maybe at one point, Alex wasn't either. But that Alex was gone, and she was never coming back. These two were the monsters in this nightmare. Have you ever been dumped, and you dwelled on what you did wrong? If I asked myself in this moment, 'What have I done wrong? What did I do to deserve this?' I realized the simple answer is 'Nothing'. Nobody deserved this.

Nobody deserved to have their wife in her sexiest lingerie, presenting herself in front of you to another man— let alone a complete douche bag with an open mouthed Ashton Kutcher grin of pure stupidity. His big hands tugged at her nipples, until she let out a whimper. Her hands continued to stroke him. Her hips began to move as she grinded her ass against his shaft.