Damn Car

"Ok if I suck them Sweetie?" he asked her softly, his whole attitude seeming to change.

Debbie fluttered open her eyes, but nothing seemed to register with her, before nodding her head, throwing it back in passion as he bent down and took her other sweet little breast into his mouth.

This time the groan was louder and more purposeful, and she grabbed at the back of his head, pulling his mouth urgently to her breast, shoving it hard up to his enveloping mouth.

"Christ," laughed out Mike as he watched. "She might have little tits, but she's some goer ain't she?"

"She's bloody loving it," added Jimbo, as Ted reached down and started to flip open the buttons on her skirt.

And me?

All I could do was watch the awful scene being played out in front of me, desperately trying to deny to myself that my treacherous cock was reacting to the scene of debauchery. Hardly able to believe that my innocent young wife could be so easily seduced into such wanton behaviour.

My heart gave a lurch as her skirt, now freed, slid slowly down her slender legs till it puddled at her feet, and I could scarcely believe my own eyes as of her own free will, she stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

"Don't you just love them little white cotton panties," Jimbo commented, relaxing the pressure on my arm just a little at last.

"Yes Jimbo," his mate agreed readily. "Makes her look all sweet and innocent despite the way she's acting."

"I prefer my women in high heels normally," Jimbo remarked as if he was discussing what model of car he fancied buying next. "But them little white ankle socks look just dandy on her don't they?"

I'd no sooner taken their comments in, than Ted, the dirty bastard, proceeded to slide one of his big hands down Debbie's tummy, his huge fat fingers toying with the waist band of her knickers. To my utter astonishment and dismay, my previously naive wife, grabbed at his wrist but did nothing to stop him as his whole hand all but disappeared down the front of her admittedly fairly large knickers.

"Oh my God please don't do that," she groaned, her own actions nullifying any likelihood that her words would have any effect, and I had to stand there watching the brute manhandle my wife.

I simply couldn't describe the anguish and feelings of hopelessness that enveloped me.

I next heard a mobile phone ringing behind me, and to my surprise Jimbo simply let go of me, freeing himself to reach inside his jacket for his phone. By then poor Debbie's panties were half way down her thighs, her ample dark bush peeping out from between Ted's fingers, as he rubbed the palm of his hand up and down against her bare pussy mound, the slick wetness on his middle finger indicating far too graphically where it kept disappearing to.

I couldn't move though!

I felt paralysed; disgusted, but mesmerised by the sight of my wife being stripped and felt up.

Jimbo was busy on the phone and Mike was ignoring me, as he leant forward trying to get a closer view up between my wife's legs, but all I could do was stand there with my mouth gaping open, staring at that hoodlum as he physically abused my wife's lovely trim body, right there in front of me.

"How does that feel darling?" Ted baited Debbie, as he slid his middle finger deep up inside her. "I bet my finger's bigger than your husband's cock isn't it?"

"Oh God yes," she gasped, which was a downright lie as it happened, but it didn't stop her from collapsing against him as he roughly fingered her, her gasps of pleasure, literally tearing lumps off me.

"Ted," called out Jimbo, holding his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone. "Got a problem boss."

"Can't you see I'm busy Jimbo?" He complained at him, hardly hesitating in his attention to Debbie's now completely naked body.

"It's Horseman," Jimbo explained with a look that everyone except me seemed understood. "He's gone wild again."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Ted, letting go of Debbie, who had to grab at him to avoid falling to the floor. "Horseman? Horseman? Is that fucker on the loose again?"

"Fraid so boss," Jimbo casually informed him. "We've got to go and sort him out before he kills someone at the club."

"Bugger him," Ted spat out, looking down at my Debbie who was still clinging on to him desperately, still lost in the throws of her own lust. "Sorry love. I've got to split. Next time maybe."

Debbie's response bought the last vestiges of my world tumbling about my ears.

"It's Ok Ted," she told him, even smiling at the bastard. "I understand."

I was left standing there on my own, totally desolate, as Debbie, my wife Debbie, accepted the thug's hand, and allowed herself to be led out into our hallway to see them out.

Bear in mind now, that this was my wife, my by now naked wife, having walked out of her panties as she'd left, just her sensible lace up shoes and little white ankle socks left, walking willingly out with three thugs who'd just abused her body and held me so that I had to watch the whole deeply disturbing incident.

I stood there for a good five minutes, perhaps longer, my mind in a turmoil at what they might be doing to her on the other side of the living room door, as I waited her return. I know I should have done something. Reacted in some way, but I was simply totally out of it, in a world that I didn't understand.

My wife --- My previously shy and so reserved Debbie, out there in the nude with three strange men that we'd never seen till half an hour ago.

I couldn't believe it was happening.

I was paralyzed.

Then I heard the front door slam, and coming out of my semi trance, I rushed to spy out of the window, fearful for the moment that they may have taken Debbie with them. With relief I saw just the three of them get into the huge brand new looking Mercedes parked outside, and was able to relax just a tiny bit as they roared away.

What the hell was a guy like that, who could afford a Mercedes like that doing buying an old second hand car, even though it was a Porsche?

I didn't know ---- No idea, but the thought did occur to me.

"Sorry honey," she quietly said to me as she came back in, a large towel that she'd found somewhere wrapped round her to cover her nudity. "Guess I got a bit carried away there."

"Debbie," I virtually sobbed at her. "How could you? How could you act that way?"

"I'm sorry honey," she sobbed at me. "I've said I'm sorry."

"But for Christ's sake Debbie," I shouted at her, losing my rag. "You let him fondle you. You let him touch you. You let him feel your tits and finger you."

"What else could I do?" She cried out in despair. "They were hurting you and I thought they were going to break your arm or something."

"But ... But ... But, there was no need to let him do all that Debbie," I proclaimed. "There was no damn need to enjoy it for fuck's sake."

There ---- I'd said it!

"What did you expect me to do George?" Debbie retorted, losing her calm completely. "The damn man was sucking on my tits and sticking his fingers up my pussy. Right up inside me. I couldn't help how good it felt. I couldn't help reacting to what he was doing to me. Damn it George, I'm sorry if it upsets you, but it felt good and I lost control."

"But why did you have to go out into the corridor with them? You're naked for Christ's sake."

"I had no choice honey. They made me go."

"You didn't put up much of a fight did you?" I spat at her, wanting to hurt her, perhaps unfairly, but needing to strike out at something.

"I didn't put up a fight?" Debbie screamed at me. "What about you, you wimp? All you did was stand there and watch while they forced me to strip. Your own wife --- You did nothing to stop them."

"What could I do Debbie," I sobbed in frustration. "That big black bastard had hold of me."

"He wasn't holding you when the three of them took me out into the hall was he?" She shot back at me. "Where were you when Ted invited the other two to have a quick feel. Where were you when I had three pairs of hands all over my naked body?"

"I don't know Debbie," I mumbled unhappily, images of Debbie, totally nude and surrounded by the three of them, unable to fend their hands off, swimming before my eyes. "I was just so shocked that I couldn't seem to react."

"Well don't blame me you bastard," she retorted in temper. "You insisted on buying the damn car, and it's me and my body that's paying for it."

There was a short silence while we stared at one another, rethinking our positions.

"I'm sorry Debbie," I blurted out at last. "I know it wasn't your fault."

"Thanks," she whispered back, unable to look me in the eye. "At least that's something."

"Well at least it's over honey," I tried to comfort her.

"You think so?" She questioned me sadly. "Because I don't think so."

Oh shit!

She was probably right.

----------------

The next few days were not easy for either of us. If I wasn't reliving the horror of seeing that bugger Ted stroking Debbie's body, then I was wondering quite what the three of them had done to her just before they left. I simply couldn't ask her about that, especially since she kept breaking down in tears every few hours.

When the call that we had been dreading finally came, it was in some weird way, almost a relief.

"Why don't you and your lovely wife Debbie pop down to our club tomorrow night," Ted asked us. "I think I've got a solution to our little problem."

"I'd rather not," I found myself responding, caught out completely by his suggestion.

"That or we come over to see you again," he went on, making it more than clear that his suggestion was an order, whichever way I looked at it. "And that might not be so nice for you as I don't like wasting my time."

"OK, I'll be there," I promised, not seeing any way out of it.

"Not just you," he snarled. "You and that lovely wife of yours. In fact you needn't come if you don't feel like it."

"We'll both be there," I promised him, and got the address off him, of a club called the Yellow Duster, which I'd certainly never heard of before.

"I trust you haven't mentioned our visit to the police or anyone George, have you?"

"No," I replied, though it was only Debbie's fear of retaliation that had stopped me.

"Very sensible," Ted informed me. "Don't you worry too much. I'm sure we can sort this out."

Bloody great!

Early the next evening found Debbie and I nervously stood at the door to the aforementioned 'Yellow Duster'.

"It's a lap dancing club George," Debbie said, reading the spiel at the entrance. "What's that? How do lap's dance?"

"Oh it's a sort of men's club," I replied, wondering if we should bugger off and emigrate to Latvia or something.

"There's a picture here of a girl dancing round a pole of some sort," she went on, examining the single poster by the door. "It looks kind of fun."

"Yes dear," I agreed with my unworldly wife, really not wanting to cross the thresh-hold of that place, my heart pounding at the thought of what Ted's solution to our problem might be.

"Come on then let's go in and get this over with," Debbie sung out as she grabbed my arm and pulled us both through the door.

"You members?" A dodgy looking man in a cheap suit and a thin moustache greeted us inside the dingy looking establishment.

"No we've come to see Ted," I told him, pleased to see that Debbie now had a nervous look on her face as she clung on to me.

"Mr Walters said someone was coming," the doorman grunted, eyeing up my wife up and down as if he was examining a piece of merchandise. "He said you were a pretty little thing sweetheart and so you are. In you go."

Before our eyes had even adjusted to the gloom inside the club, Jimbo from the previous evening came up, grabbed Debbie's arm and whisked her off behind the bar, casually telling me to follow them. We went through a heavy wooden door and found ourselves back in normal levels of light in a rather scruffy office full of filing cabinets, where Ted was sat behind a huge, grey, metal desk.

"Ah! There you are my lovely," Ted greeted my wife, ignoring me completely. "And all dressed up nicely as well, I see."

It was true, and somewhat against my will, Debbie had dolled herself up for the meeting. Now when I say 'dolled up', what I mean is put her best 'going out' clothes on, though they were hardly sexy or anything, or even terribly fashionable for that matter.

"Now you come and sit on my knee young lady," he ordered her, and with a frightened look across at me, she nervously approached him and plumped her shapely bottom down on his lap.

Jimbo had positioned himself in between the two of us, so even if I'd had the nerve, I couldn't intervene.

"Now this solution I have involves you, young lady," he started, confirming my worst fears. "Now normally when I interview new female applicants to work here, I have them strip for me, but since I've already seen and felt the goods, I think we can give that a miss for the moment."

"Now hang on there," I started to object, but to my astonishment Debbie interrupted me.

"Let's hear what he's got to say George," she suggested.

"Very sensible young lady," Ted grinned at her. "Glad to hear that you're not going to be difficult."

"So what job am I being interviewed for?" she demanded somewhat more confidently than I would have given her credit for. "If you think I'm going to be one of those strip tease dancing girls, then you've got another think coming."

"We don't call them that anymore," Ted smiled in amusement. "Besides, an innocent little thing like you would need a fair bit of training before we'd let you do that."

"So what do you expect me to do then?"

"Waitress to start with," he told her, sliding his huge hand round her slim waist. "Then maybe try you behind the bar perhaps."

"Well," Debbie started nervously. "I've never been a waitress before, but I guess I could manage that perhaps."

""Now look here. I'm not ....." But my objections were cut short by a nudge in the ribs from Jimbo, that all but laid me out.

"How long do I have to work to pay the debt off?" Debbie asked Ted, throwing me a sympathetic look.

"Oh --- we'll see how it goes darling," he told her. "How many nights a week can you manage?"

"Two perhaps," she ventured uncertainly.

"Let's call it four then," he over-ruled her. "You start at nine each night till we close."

"What time would that be?" Debbie queried, but Ted simply shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

"Well the sooner you get started, then the quicker you'll pay the debt off," was the closest that we got to how long she'd have to work for, and the conversation that followed made me feel quite queasy.

"We're short of a girl tonight Debbie sweetheart, so you might as well get your outfit on and get out there," he told her, handing over a couple of tiny articles made of some silky material.

"But everyone will be able to see my bra in this top," complained Debbie, examining the tiny slip of material

"No they won't," he grinned back at her.

"Yes they will," she insisted, holding it up against herself. "Look, there's hardly anything to it, it's open right down the front, and in any case it's a bit see-thru."

I gulped; glad to remember that She'd put on a sensible bra that evening, one that wouldn't show off too much.

"They won't be able to see your bra, sweetheart," Ted assured her again.

"But they will," Debbie protested. "Look, there's nothing to it."

"They won't see your bra because it's not designed to be worn with one," Ted delighted in informing my wife. "None of our girls wear a bra when they're here, so that's something you won't have to worry about."

"But then they'll be able to see my ....."

She broke off and visibly gulped, as the implications struck her.

"Only when you bend down," Ted carried on. "You'll get a lot more tips that way as well, so you ought to practice how to give the clients a flash."

"A flash," Debbie exclaimed in shock. "You mean you actually expect me to flash my breasts at the customers?"

"Of course sweetheart," he laughed back. "It's a bloody night club. Once you've settled in you can let some of them have a feel as well if you want, and then you'll really rake in the tips."

Debbie stood there silently, her mouth gaping open, trying to take in what she'd just been told, even more surprises coming as Ted continued.

"Have you got those old fashioned knickers on again?"

Debbie simply nodded.

"Well you'll have to get yourself some new ones, thongs and things, as the clients won't like them much."

Debbie picked up the miniscule mini skirt, and we were both able to see why what panties Debbie had on, would be apparent.

"They'll do for tonight though I suppose," Ted carried on nonchalantly, ignoring both our looks of horror. "Unless you fancy going without of course, like some of the girls do."

"Without?" Whispered Debbie. "You mean without any panties in a skirt as short as this."

"Perhaps not," he said thoughtfully.

"Thank God for that," Debbie exclaimed in relief.

"No ---- You'd better get your pussy shaved before you go commando. Perhaps another night when you've got used to the guys out there mauling you. You should give it a go though, because the tips are so much better."

Oh Shit!!!!

Before I could gather my wits, Jimbo started to usher me out of the door, leaving my poor embarrassed wife standing there.

"Get changed then darling, you've got customers out there."

I tried to resist Jimbo, only too aware that Debbie had already started to undo the buttons on her blouse. As he forced me easily out through the door, my last sight of Debbie was of her easing her blouse off her shoulders, her little white bra out on view.

"What time shall I come and pick her up?" I asked Jimbo in desperation.

"No need mate," he replied as he edged me out of the club. "We'll make sure she get's home safely.

"But what time?" I demanded, the thought of poor Debbie taking her clothes off back in that office etched in my mind.

"Who knows?" He replied. "Depends how well she does and whether any of the customers want to chat to her afterwards or whatever."

Oh Shit!!!!!

---------------------

You can imagine!

I walked slowly back to my little Volkswagen, in a daze, never having expected to be going home on my own, furious at having to leave my dear wife in that place on her own.

The journey home was a nightmare, and I had to pull up a couple of times when I thought I was on the point of bursting into tears or something. I thought about going and buying a gun or something, but in the UK, that is all but impossible for an ordinary guy like me.

When I got home it was no better, and neither the TV nor my magazines could hold my interest for more than a few minutes, and eventually I spread myself out on the sofa feeling sorry for myself and worrying about how my poor Debbie was coping.

Midnight passed then 1 am, and Debbie was already out later than she had been for years. I think I may have dozed off at some point, but was bought back to reality by the growl of a powerful car pulling up outside. In an instant I was at the window, stunned to see a gleaming Aston Martin DB9, parked outside. A hundred grand's worth of car at least, and the bastard was making us go through this turmoil for an old Porsche. Why the hell had he bought it in the first place?

My heart pounded as I stood there watching the car, unable to see what was going on inside, fearful of letting my imagination run riot. After what seemed an age, but probably wasn't, the nearside door opened and a pair of long bare legs swung out. A lovely pair of bare legs that were familiar to me, with a pair of high heels on that weren't. Debbie closed the door behind her and leant back inside the window for a moment. Long enough for a kiss, but probably not so, the miniscule skirt that she had worn home rising up over her bottom to expose her white cotton panties. Well at least she had kept them on by the looks of it.