My Fertile Secret Ch. 05

Being on top lets me control the pace of the sex and even feel like I have some control over him. His snake is inside of me, and I can squeeze and stroke and tease it through the movement of my hips. I bounce higher and harder, my ass slapping hard against his hips as I bounce. I'm determined to make him cum and claim his seed for my fertile womb.

Then my rapist takes back control. He pulls me forward so that I'm no longer squatting, then plants his feet on the bed and holds my hips tight and starts thrusting up into my pussy with the vigorous force of a man who believes he owns what he fucks.

My shameless moaning tells him he's right. The forceful pleasure of his thick spear pumping up and down inside of me threatens to make me cum all over again, and it's all I can do to hold on to his shoulders for balance and let him have his way with me from underneath.

My husband is right there filming every moment of the action in total silence. I avert my gaze from the ring light around the camera, and I'm afraid to see his reaction to what he's filming and how I'm acting. I'm sure he's loving every moment of this, and that sick sadistic fact takes a lot of the pleasure out of it for me.

On the other hand, my rapist is such a good fuck that it's so easy and tempting to pretend that this is all consensual. He abruptly stops fucking me in cowgirl position and makes me dismount. Before I can react or ask what's going on, he's forced me onto all fours and prepares to enter me from behind -- just like poor Daenerys in season one of Game of Thrones.

That's exactly what this is. I'm a slave to them; a sex slave. And once my rapist has plunged back into my sexual depths, he takes me the way a dog takes a bitch. It's not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be, and I rest my face on the rumpled covers as my rapist pounds my pussy from behind, gripping the flesh of my ass for support.

The dry slap of his hips against my backside combines with the wet slurps of his rod bottoming out inside my cunt. Every thrust of his long cock makes me wetter and hornier, and my moans of pre-orgasmic delight are audible for the whole room to hear.

I can't wait for this to be over. Not just because I can scarcely bear the humiliating ordeal I'm going through, but because the very real pleasure brewing in my belly is so intense that I know I'm going to cum again. He keeps stopping and changing position before I can get my second orgasm, and I desperately want to get some pleasure out of this pain.

I reach underneath myself all the way down to my clit and start rubbing it. I catch a glimpse of the camera-cuck out of the corner of my eye. He lingers on the beautiful diamond wedding ring on my left hand before moving in close to the point at which my rapist and I are one. He wants a good view of me giving myself a reach-around while another man fucks me hard.

My rapist decides to switch positions again, and he braces and heaves me bodily up again until he's lying on his back, and I'm on top of him in reverse cowgirl. I'm still worn out after trying to ride his dick the first time, so he keeps the initiative and plants his feet flat on the bed again and fucks me from underneath.

I moan like the whore they want me to become, my thighs spread wide, and my arms stretched back to balance on my hands while another man's penis pumps up and down inside my poor abused pussy. Of course, my husband is right there with an up-close shot of my rapist's man-rod pounding his wife's cunt, his plum-sized nuts bouncing wildly in sync with his cock.

My rapist is already a champion stud, but he decides to go one better and wrap the fingers of one hand around my throat while the other finds my clit and rubs me mercilessly while fucking me from underneath with the same speed and force as before.

"Ooh! How! Are! You! This! Fucking! Good!" I can barely force out the words between each stroke of manly force. "You're! So! Much! Better! Than! My! Fucking! Cuck! Husband!"

Everything is coming together to complete my rapist's total sexual conquest of my body. His giant cock pistoning in and out of my pussy. His big balls brimming with the same seed that gave me my baby boy and threatening to fill me with many more. His hand on my throat, a fearful demonstration of the danger he poses to me if I dare defy him. And his fingers rubbing my clit in tight little circles, tormenting me towards the most powerful orgasm ever.

He's hurtling towards his own orgasm. I can tell by the violent urgency of his fucking, and the deep grunts escaping his mouth. My rapist is ready to blow his load.

"You want me to put another baby in your belly?" He snarls like a rutting beast. "Here it cums!"

He thrusts his anaconda all the way up inside me and roars like a monster breeding a princess. I feel his cock writhe and twitch and pulse inside me, and then I feel the first jet of white-hot cum spurt into my cunt. The liquid warmth of his seed being pumped into my pussy sends me over the edge, and I scream out an orgasm as my whole body begins to spasm uncontrollably. He keeps one hand on my hip and forces me to stay squatting down on his dick while he breeds me while the other hand stays wrapped around my throat.

Our combined climax is so insanely powerful it makes me want to forget the past few hours in favor of this one moment. His penis is still pumping his seed into my fertile pussy, jet after jet of potent cum filling me up far more than my useless cuck husband ever could. My vaginal orgasm blooms in my belly and crotch, and I feel myself squirt onto his cock.

His snarls and my moans meld to form a climactic chorus that fills the bedroom, threatening to wake the baby he already put in my belly as he makes certain that I'll swell up with another one before long. My husband is a few feet away with the camera, making sure to get a full shot of our adulterous orgasm with my rapist's cock buried in his wife's snatch.

My orgasm is still going even as my rapist is already experiencing post-nut clarity -- one without any moral clarity -- and I pant with exhaustion as I slowly begin to process what just happened. The camera-cuck comes close again, getting a close-up shot of my pussy. I obligingly flex my legs and raise my hips up and up until my rapist's cock slips out of me.

He came so deep inside of me that only a trickle oozes out of my slit, but I can feel it dripping onto his still-hard cock, and my husband makes sure to catch every frame of that glorious little cumshot. I lean backwards until I'm resting on my rapist's chest. His fingers remain wrapped around my neck, caressing my throat with such tender care while his free hand plays idly with my cum-filled cunt, teasing my clit while he pulls me in and kisses me hungrily.

I keep my legs spread wide for the camera and lose myself in the passionate afterglow of what I truly want to fool myself into believing was a genuine making of love with a man I'd gladly have opened my thighs for on the first date if only he had asked.

"You came even harder than I did," my rapist growls sensuously into my ear. His deep voice sends shivers through my body. "Are you looking forward to having another baby by me?"

And turn me into your personal broodmare? Fuck you. But if I dare say that out loud, I'm dead.

"Mm, I can't wait to feel your baby moving in my belly again." I giggle and purr, taking care to stay in character until the camera is off. "I bet my husband will want to film the birth again. I can't wait to make him watch as I push your baby out of my pussy."

My rapist grins eagerly at the prospect and pulls me back into another kiss. Our lips caress and brush against one another, and I enter his mouth with my tongue, all while he continues playing with my clit and my freshly fucked married pussy.

After a moment, he breaks off the kiss.

"Let's go for round two in the shower," he suggests.

I'd rather die than submit to being owned by him again.

"Sure," I reply with a sultry smirk.

We climb off the bed, and I lead him by his still-hard cock to the bathroom while the camera-cuck follows us. I'm tempted to slam the door shut in my husband's face now that the scene is done, but then I notice that he's following us into the bathroom.

We're still not finished.

My rapist and I climb into the jacuzzi tub, and I switch on the shower. I really just want to turn up the heat and be alone to scrub myself clean after what just happened to me, but no amount of scrubbing will make me feel less dirty than I already feel. I'm a mess of conflicting emotions, the orgasms and very real bodily pleasure I just experienced clashing wildly with the sense of violation I feel amid the life-shattering revelations I've received in just one hellish evening.

My husband is still filming us, and I muster what little grit and perseverance I have left to get me through this. I will endure. I have to endure. For the sake of my children and my own life.

My rapist squirts some lotion onto his body and starts lathering it onto his skin, then lathers it all over my own body, especially my breasts and crotch. I let him put his hands all over me, he can't scrub me clean of what he's already done, but at least he can try.

His evil anaconda is still hard, and before long he's ready for the second round I don't want. He turns me around and bends me over before lining the tip of his spear up against my pussy lips. When he's ready, he enters me again, and I gasp for the camera and endure another rape.

The water and lathered lotion all over our bodies create a wet slapping noise that echoes inside the bathroom. The stretching of my pussy by his thick cock is hard to ignore, and I moan with exertion as I endure his fucking. His thrusting is more gentle this time, he's already had me and he doesn't need to rush to prove that he owns me.

I plant my hands on the wall of the bathroom for balance while he digs his fingers into my ass, savoring the feeling of my tight and well-plowed pussy squeezing his penis. I see the camera to one side and turn my head away, taking care to keep moaning for effect while making sure that my face is out of the shot.

That's when I start to cry.

***

"Awkward" doesn't even begin to describe the rest of the night that follows.

My rapist finishes inside me in the shower, and I pretend to be incredibly happy that my secret lover is here with me for the camera while wondering if I can get a morning-after pill from the cabinet without either man noticing. After my husband has stopped filming and departed, my rapist and I awkwardly wash ourselves before we dry off and get dressed again.

First, I go check on my baby. It's amazing that he slept through the whole thing, even though he was in the next room. When he eventually does wake up, I feed him and change him while my rapist hangs out in the bedroom.

Then the four of us sit down to the most awkward Friday night dinner ever -- awkward for me, that is. I eat as much as I can stomach while listening to these two beasts chat like the great buddies they apparently are, with absolutely no mention of what happened an hour ago.

I keep my baby son sitting next to me so that I can take care of him and keep him at a distance from his legal and biological fathers. All the while, I wonder how to sneak away and get that pill. I have no intention of getting pregnant a fourth time, not by either of these monsters.

When everyone has eaten, I excuse myself with the baby and disappear upstairs to put him to bed. I want the crib moved back to the master bedroom, but I'm not strong enough to lift it, let alone hold the baby in one arm while doing so.

Sure enough, my rapist shows up behind me and obligingly returns the crib to its original spot. I excuse myself to the bathroom and lock the door, then I open up the cabinet and search for the pills. I search and search and search. Then I start tossing stuff out and digging frantically through the contents in search of those pills.

They're gone.

Body trembling and eyes brimming with tears, I put everything back in more or less its original place and use the bathroom. I know for a fact that those pills were there a few days ago. It can't be a coincidence that they've disappeared.

I look up at my computer science diploma hanging in pride of place on the wall, wondering with an extra layer of bitterness how exactly my life came to this. From computer science and cybersecurity geek to the mother of a rapist's baby, forced to perform in an amateur porn flick for her evil husband's pleasure and moneymaking scheme.

The spark of a hopeful idea forms in my mind, but there isn't enough emotional oxygen for me to give it, so I file it away in the back of my mind and finish up in the bathroom. When I open the door, I find my rapist standing watch.

"You were in there a while." He's keeping an empathetic distance to avoid cornering me.

"None of your business," I snap back.

"Oh, I had to confiscate this, by the way." He holds up the missing packet of pills.

I gasp and make a mad rush at him, trying to snatch them from his hand, but he's too fast and holds them out of reach. He looks amused at my futile efforts to get them back. He's much less amused when I try to knee him and get them back.

My knee misses the source of my youngest and future babies and hits him in the gut, but it's enough to make him drop the pills. I dive at them, but he grabs me by my shirt and throws me onto the bed, and the terror hits me hard as he climbs on top of me.

"Don't ever pull a trick like that again." He's growling at me, and this time it's in anger.

"What do you expect me to do?" I spit defiantly, even as he pins my wrists down to the bed.

"Weren't you begging me to put another baby in you a few hours ago?"

"That was for your sick porno video," I point out angrily. "You think I want to bring another rapist's child into the world?"

"Then why did you carry our son to term?"

That question leaves me silent.

"From the sound of it, you've had a lot of fun with the money your husband earned from this arrangement." He's still pinning my body to the bed, but he relaxes the force so as not to hurt me. "And when you really let yourself go, you actually seem to enjoy out."

Those words sting. I did enjoy spending the extra money my husband brought in -- although, I don't think I would have enjoyed it quite as much if I'd known where it all came from. It's also true that my rapist is the best fuck I've ever had. I'll never forget the orgasms he gave me.

"I'll think you'll get used to it." My rapist relinquishes his grip on my wrists and gets up. "You can't deny you enjoy being with a man like me."

"And what do you make of the kind of 'man' who pimps out his own wife to a rapist?"

Now it's his turn to be left speechless.

***

Take the awkwardness of Friday night dinner with my rapist and my evil husband and dial it up from eleven to twenty. My rapist is staying over this weekend, and he'll be sharing our bed.

We all brush our teeth together like a bunch of housemates who've known each other forever, then both men strip naked for bed. I want to wrap my body in as many protective layers as possible, but I know that won't stop them, so I reluctantly join them naked.

I pull the duvet close around me, feeling extremely vulnerable with the two worst men in my life lying on either side of me. I look up at the ceiling fan where I now know a hidden camera is recording everything and mouth the words 'help me'. Then my husband turns out the light, and the bedroom is plunged into darkness.

"You know." I'm frightened to speak up at all, but with no immediate prospect of escape from this situation and the possibility of a fourth pregnancy, there are so many things I have to ask. "If you wanted to try something more exciting in the bedroom...why not just ask me?"

"Would you have agreed if I told you?" my husband asks.

"Would I have agreed to be raped? No, I would not." I answer sharply, "but that doesn't mean we couldn't have tried some kind of roleplay where you pretend to be a rapist or something. Hell, if you wanted to explore the cuckolding fetish, we could've explored that, too."

"There's no way you would have agreed to play along with my deepest, darkest fetish, darling."

My husband says that with the weary tone of a man telling his wife that, no, they can't afford a Mercedes, and it makes me want to smack him. There are a lot of things for which I actually want to murder him, but this is just one more reason.

"It's not something that most men would readily admit they're into," my rapist explains calmly.

"Well, I agree that no decent man would admit they enjoy rape." I turn to my husband and the darkness prevents him from seeing the look of abject hatred on my face. "And no real man, let alone a decent husband, would pimp out his wife to a rapist or get off on watching it."

Silence prevails. Then I hear the rustling of sheets, and for an awful terrifying moment, I fear that they're about to initiate a threesome with me. But instead, my husband drapes his arm over my body. I can barely stand to have him touch me after what he's done, but I'm also relieved that I'm not about to be raped, so I let him.

"If I'd asked you to cuckold me with another man," my husband asks me, "and bear his child for us to raise as if I were the father, would you have agreed?"

That sounds only slightly more palatable than the fantasy he actually inflicted on me.

"Given the choice." Part of me wants to give a careful reply, but a bigger part of me wants to let loose. "I'd rather that all of my children have the same genetic father. And if I'd known that my husband is such a debauched freak, I would have married somebody else."

"Call me whatever names make you feel better about it, sweetheart," my husband answers, "but the truth is, being cuckolded is my deepest, darkest fantasy. Not just being cheated on, I mean the whole nine months from conceiving his child, the pregnancy, all the way through to birth."

I have a flashback of walking in on him jerking off to the video of me giving birth to the other man's baby. I've already been hit by a set of truths so awful I don't want to believe them, but now a bunch of extra dots start to connect in my head.

"And you went out of your way to fulfill my fantasy beautifully. Don't think I didn't notice all the little mocking hints and subtle comments giving away that you had another man's baby in your belly." He's not angry, he's horny. He's literally aroused by this. "Like the time you left me at home to take care of his baby while you went out shopping and having fun."

"It's the birth he really enjoyed." My rapist adds, "I wish I could have been there, but he sent me the tape of our son being born. We both enjoyed it very much."

"You enjoyed watching me give birth to another man's child, you sick cuck?"

"So much!" Only consideration for the aforementioned baby keeps him from uttering it too loudly. He can scarcely contain his horny glee. "Watching you huff and puff and pant and sweat and struggle to push another man's baby out between your stretched pussy lips was powerful to behold. And the moment when his head poked out between your labia, and then you gave one last push to make him slide so smoothly out of your wet pussy...Ooh!"

"You are two of the most evil fucked-up people I've ever had the bad luck to meet." I conclude. It's all I can think of to say because it's really the only thing that can be said. "Just divorce me and hire an escort to live out your sick fantasies."

"How would you like to move into a luxury penthouse in L.A.?" my rapist interjects. "Or go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Dubai or Rome and stay in a seven-star hotel? That porn movie he and I made with you has made so much bank it's unbelievable. And that's not counting the OnlyFans material he's posted."