Sexual Fantasy Become Reality #03

When fiction becomes fact. Was what happened real, a fantasy, a dream, or a nightmare?

Joan is stripped naked and forced to have sex with two men and three women.

Reviewed, Revised, Rewritten, and Continued from Chapter 02:

"Hey! What the Hell are you doing? Ow! You're hurting me. Stop! Let me go. What are you doing with that rope? Don't you dare tie me. Untie me this instant," shouted Michael to big Al while staring at J. R. with hatred.

Becoming more conscious of what was happening around him, he struggled to free himself. Only making his ties tighter by struggling, he finally relaxed and gave into his helplessness. Crystal, Tiffany, and big Al overpowered him. There was nothing that he could do. He just hoped that they didn't kill him and/or his wife.

"How dare you tie me to this contraption? I'll call the police. I'll sue your ass for kidnapping me, for forced imprisoning me, for drugging me, and for raping my wife. Let me go! Let me go now!"

As if a prisoner about to be tortured on the rack, Michael was tied to a huge, heavy, and immovable, wooden, monstrosity in the shape of an X. The last thing he remembered was his host going on about the fine, vintage, French wine that he was about to serve and they were about to drink. The last thing he remembered was drinking a glass. Obviously drugged, carried down to the basement over big Al's broad shoulders, and tied to this monstrous apparatus, he wondered where his wife was.

"Joan! Joan," he called out to her! Where are you? Joan! Joannie," he said in panicked desperation! "You had better not hurt her," he said idlily threatening the owner of the house. "So, help me God, if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

Well protected, his bodyguard moved his suitcoat back to expose his handgun. With Michael helpless to defend himself, his bodyguard was big, armed, and, seemingly dangerous. All that he had was nothing but his medical training to use to defend himself. Unless J. R. suddenly had a heart attack and Michael saved his life, seemingly, that was the only thing that could save him.

In the way that Dexter immobilized his victims in his TV series by the same name, if only he had a syringe filled with a powerful sedative, he could stop an elephant. Yet, helpless to free himself, in the way that J. R. relied on his care in the hospital, he relied on the sympathy of the owner of the house to free him and release him and his wife. In the way that the owner of his dungeon was helpless to get out of his bed in the hospital, Michael was unable to get out of his chair. Doomed, he was at his mercy.

As if Joan was part of their hosts sexually, perverse show, the curtain over the stage slowly parted open. Obviously, for them to have a stage with a curtain, they had done this violently sexual, sort of thing to other couples before. He felt so stupid falling victim to their despicable, demonic trap.

He wished they had never accepted their invitation to dine with them at their magnificent mansion. If this was what their invitation was about, having forced sex with them, he just hoped they weren't going to hurt them or kill them. This was a big and secluded property with plenty of places to bury their bodies. J. R. could easily have big Al dispose of them somewhere on the grounds. Missing forever, no one would ever find them.

Unable to help himself or his wife, now he understood what it felt like to be helplessly dependent on someone else. Now, he understood what J. R. and his other patients must have felt while dependent upon his medical care and his, sometimes, rushed and impatient bedside manner. Still that was no excuse for this diabolical payback. With him always having other patients to care for, he was only trying to help him to get better. Can't he see that?

Wishing that he had never accepted their invitation, he now knew that it was too good to be true. For him, a nothing and a nobody to rub elbows with a billionaire and his wife, who was he kidding? He should have known that they had a hidden agenda to get them there under false pretenses. Who knew their false pretenses was about sex, domination, and control? He should have known that they were up to something diabolical. Convolutedly, instead of thanking Michael for his medical care, clearly, they wanted to punish him for making J. R. feel helpless.

# # #

Then, suddenly, from somewhere offstage, glad that she was alive and safe, his wife appeared, albeit without her dress, her slip, her garter belt, her stockings, and her shoes. Dressed only in her sexually revealing, low-cut bra and French cut, cream-colored panties, she was escorted by two tall, sexy and shapely, beautiful women, dressed all in black leather. His wife was tall, 5'7" in her stocking feet but these two Amazon women were well over six-feet tall and even taller with their high-heeled, black, leather boots.

"Did they hurt you? Did they force themselves on you?"

Admittedly, a twinge of sexual excitement passed over him when he saw Joan dressed only in her panties and bra. She stood before J. R. and big Al practically naked. Another twinge of sexual excitement hardened his cock when he asked his wife if these two Dominatrices forced themselves on her. Even though he feared for his life, he couldn't stop himself from thinking that his wife had forced, lesbian sex with these two, beautiful women. Unable to help himself from thinking it, he wished he was there to see it.

"Joan, tell me what happened," said Michael. "This is all my fault. Don't worry. Don't be embarrassed. Whatever happened and whatever you were forced to do, we'll get through this."

Obviously, still groggy, he didn't possess all of his senses. With her not drugged and clearly, feeling guilty for doing whatever she had already, sexually done to survive, she hung her head, seemingly in shamed embarrassment without answering him. As if he was part of the movie, Eyes Wide Shut with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, their form of violently, perverse entertainment, no doubt, nothing but a sexy game to them, this couple did this all the time. Only, assuring himself of getting even against their evil deeds, these wretched individuals picked on the wrong couple to sexually use and abuse.

Once free, after beating J. R., he'd report him to the police. Only, after seeing big Al, he'd never get past his bodyguard. Besides, obviously from old money and superrich, he could hire the best, law firm to allow him the best legal defense team that would enable him to get away with murder. Moreover, the police would never believe that J. R. and his wife, Brigitte, would have anything to do with them. With him still tied to this tortuous structure, just as he was helpless to do anything now, sadly and assuredly so, he'd be helpless to do anything later.

Besides, their mistake, with him getting the last laugh, they picked on the wrong woman. A morally modest, sexually backward, and religious woman, his wife would never abide by them having forced sex with her. Unless she had one too many glasses of wine and was horny, she seldom gave him a blowjob. Even then, whenever she blew him, she never allowed him to cum in her mouth. She only allowed him to cum across her naked breasts. If they're thinking that she'd suck their cocks, allow them to cum in her mouth and swallow their cum, she'd never blow them.

Other than her enjoying wearing a garter belt with stockings, a low-cut bra, and French cut panties all for his benefit, she was the closest woman to being a virginal nun. Unlike her to be so immorally immodest, not covering her nakedness with her arms or her forearms, he couldn't believe she was standing before J. R. and his bodyguard in just her sexy and sheerly revealing underwear. Clearly, he could see her symmetrical areolas, her big, erect nipples through her bra, and her trimmed, patch of dark, brown pubic hair through her panties.

Michael had an erection watching J. R. and big Al stare at all that they could see of Joan through her bra and panties. He was surprised, shocked, actually, that they had removed her dress without her fighting them and screaming. Perhaps, they had drugged her, too. If ever they get out of this, he'll be masturbating over two women stripping his wife nearly naked and two men seeing all that they shouldn't see of her beautiful body.

"Joan. Where's your dress? Where's your clothes?" He turned his head to look at his hosts. "How dare you undress my wife? How dare you embarrass and humiliate her? How dare you scar her for life? You'll pay for this," he said with red faced anger. Only, he was just as sexually excited that everyone was seeing her in her bra and panties as he was angry. "I'll fix you," he yelled. "I'll fix you!"

Only with him tied to this thing, he couldn't fix anyone. Obviously, a continuation of their entertainment, perhaps, having heard such meaningless threats from others before, J. R., Brigitte, big Al, and the two Dominatrices Madam Crystal and Madam Tiffany laughed. With him still helplessly tied to this massive, wooden structure, unable to free himself, there was nothing that he could do. He was as helpless to save his wife as he was helpless to save himself.

Chapter 03:

A very beautiful woman who resembled Stephanie Ruhle from Velshi and Ruhle on MSNBC, when Joan dressed for this evening, she wore silk stockings, garter belt, and a sexy bra and panties beneath a full slip. Making her feel more like a desirable woman, she enjoyed dressing sexy when going out for the evening and for their sexual activities later that night. Only, her sexual activities were meant for him, only for him, and for no one else. Something that she'd never do, cheat on Michael, she could never imagine having sex with anyone other than with her husband.

Married for nearly thirty-years with him never having sex with anyone other than with her, yet, with him a horny man, no harm in that, he always sexually fantasized having sex with others. Further, even more erotically exciting, he thought about his wife having sex with others, too. Another man, two men, a woman, two women, or a man and a woman, he'd love to watch his wife stripped naked while having extramarital sex. Frustratingly, with her modestly shy and sexually inhibited, no doubt, with the thought never crossing her mind, she'd never have sex with anyone but with him.

'Yet, how hot would that be to watch J. R. making out with Joan while touching and feeling her everywhere through her underwear,' he thought while making himself horny? 'How hot would that be to watch him strip her naked? How hot would that be for him to finger her pussy, lick her pussy, and masturbate her before fucking her? How hot would that be to watch him force her to stroke his cock while sucking his cock? Something she never did with him; how hot would that be to watch him cum in her mouth and watch her swallow his cum? Wow.'

He looked from his wife to look at Brigitte. She was so beautiful. She was so sexy. She was so young. It baffled him while J. R. would be interested in Joan when he had a wife who looked like her. If Michael had a woman who looked like Brigitte in his life, he'd never look at nor even think of another woman. Yet, he was happy with his wife. She was all the woman that he needed and/or wanted.

Yet, whatever floats his boat, with Joan much older than Brigitte, perhaps J. R. has Mommy issues and always wanted to have sex with his mother. Perhaps, he imagines Joan being his mother and him being her son, maybe that explained his sexual attraction to his wife. Only, J. R. was much older than Joan. Yet, nonetheless, now including Brigitte in his sexual fantasies, his imagination ran wild with her having lesbian sex with his wife.

'How hot would it be to watch her strip herself naked to have lesbian sex with Joan? I'd love to see Brigitte naked. How hot would that be to watch them having lesbian sex? I'd love to watch her forcing my wife to have lesbian sex,' he thought. 'I'd love to watch Brigitte eating Joan's pussy and Joan fingering and licking Brigitte's cunt.'

He imagined Brigitte stripping herself naked. He imagined her moving between Joan's shapely legs and fingering pussy while licking her pussy. He imagined her eating his wife's cunt. He imagined her giving Joan a sexual orgasm with her fingers and her tongue. He imagined Brigitte forcing his wife to return the sexual favor by forcing her to finger and lick her pussy, too.

'How hot would that be to watch them having lesbian sex,' he thought. 'Obviously, in the way that Brigitte stared at Joan standing before her in her revealing bra and panties, she was sexually attracted to her.'

In the way that he imagined Brigitte having lesbian sex with his wife, he imagined his wife having lesbian sex with Brigitte. He imagined his wife moving between Brigitte's shapely legs and fingering her pussy while licking her pussy. He imagined Joan eating her cunt. He imagined Joan giving Brigitte a sexual orgasm with her fingers and her tongue. Only, his wife would never willingly have sex with Brigitte or with any woman. She wasn't a lesbian.

'Yet, nonetheless, a virtual orgy, how hot would that be to watch my wife having sex with two Dominatrices and his bodyguard, too,' he thought while looking from Madam Crystal and Madam Tiffany to look at big Al.

Even though he knew that Joan would never go for having sex with two men and three women, making himself sexually excited, he wished she would.

'How hot would that be to watch her having an orgy of group sex with two men and three women? Wow,' he thought.

# # #

Yet, unfortunately, without doubt, with her too shy, modest, and religious, she'd never have sex with anyone but with him. They must have drugged her for her to allow them to remove her dress and present her in her bra and panties in front of everyone. Moreover, if that's their plan, they'd have to drug her for her to have orgy like sex with J. R., Brigitte, his two Dominatrices, and his bodyguard. In the way that he was helplessly tied to this contraption, they'd have to helplessly tie her to something for her to do their sexual bidding, too.

However, in Joan's favor, where most women don't look good without their clothes, Joan looked sexy. Unlike other women who were obesely out of shape, with her flawless figure especially at her age, she looked good even when naked, especially when naked. Looking ten-years younger, perhaps because she never had a child, she had quite the figure for a fifty-something-year-old woman.

With her a virgin when they married, he remembered his first time seeing her completely naked was on their wedding night. With her big breasts, long legs, and shapely hips, she looked as good as any Playboy Playmate then and still does now. Alas, if only she'd be a willing participant in his erotic, sexual fantasies. Whether with men or with women, how sweet would that be to watch her having sex with others?

At the very least, he wished she loved giving blowjobs. Unfortunately, she didn't suck his cock very much and when she did blow him, forget about her swallowing him, she wouldn't allow him to cum in her mouth. Wanting to know what that sensation felt like, he wished she'd allow him to cum in her mouth and swallow his cum. When she refused to allow him to cum in her mouth, a blowjob isn't the same. Relegated to cumming on her naked breasts, he hated cumming on her tits. If he could do anything, he'd love to give his wife a cum bath.

'Oh, yeah,' he thought looking at his wife's full lips. 'I wish I could cum in her mouth. He stared at her pretty face. 'I wish she'd allow me to give her a cum bath. I'd love to cum all over her face, in her hair, and across her naked breasts.'

Moreover, if her not allowing him to cum in her mouth and/or give her a cum bath wasn't enough, with her nipples so highly sensitive, she seldom allowed him to finger and suck her nipples. Such a fundamental thing to do when having sex, feeling and fondling her naked breasts wasn't the same unless she gave him uninterrupted access to her erect nipples. He had read about some women having a sexual orgasm just by a man fingering and sucking their nipples but not his wife.

If she wouldn't have sex with others, at the very least, he'd love her to watch her expose herself to other men. Flashing her bra, her panties, her naked breasts, naked pussy, and/or naked ass, he'd love to watch her expose herself to his friends. While knowing that she never would, he'd love to watch her having sex with one of his friends. Knowing she'd never have lesbian sex either, still, he'd love to watch her having sex with a woman.

'How hot would that be to watch her make out with another woman while they touched and felt one another through their clothes? How hot would that be to watch them both strip one another naked? How hot would that be to watch a woman go down on his wife and to watch her go down on a woman? As much as he'd love to watch another woman make her cum, he'd love to watch Joan give a woman a sexual orgasm,' he thought while staring at his wife with Madam Crystal and Madam Tiffany.

Only, just as she'd never expose herself to anyone but him, whether with a man or with a woman, she'd never have sex with anyone but with him. Yet, even though she was exposed to two men and three women now, it wasn't the same. Instead of her being sexually aroused, she obviously was frightened, embarrassed, and humiliated. Instead of him being frightened, being the voyeur that he was, he was sexually excited that everyone was seeing his wife in her nearly see-through, sexy bra and panties.

'Something that she'd never willingly do in front of my friends or even in front of my brother, she'd never parade around them in her sexy bra and panties. Wishing she would it's so hot for everyone to see Joan in her bra and panties,' thought Michael. 'Even though they were their captives, he'd love everyone to see Joan naked. With the onus of guilt off of him, he wished Madam Crystal and Madam Tiffany would strip his wife naked.'

# # #

Not knowing what she was going to do, he helplessly watched as Madam Crystal advanced towards him with a pair of long and sharp scissors. Perhaps, a game they had finished playing, now that they all had their fun scaring the hell out of them and scarring Joan for life, he hoped that she'd cut the ropes that tied him and set him free. Yet, shocking him while sexually exciting him, instead of cutting the ropes that bound him, as if he was a trauma victim brought to a hospital emergency room, she cut off his clothes.

Was this payback for the nurse cutting off J. R.'s clothes in the emergency room? Saving time to access his injuries, instead of taking the time to unbutton and/or unzip blouses, shirts, pants, and/or skirts, they always cut away trauma victims' clothes. Nothing sexual about it, cutting away clothes and stripping patients naked was standard, emergency room procedure and really had nothing to do with him. If J. R. needed to blame anyone, he should blame himself for eating and drinking too much, smoking, and not maintaining his health with daily exercise.

'Cut off all of her clothes. Strip her naked,' he imagined a doctor saying in an emergency room about a sexy, beautiful woman that was in his emergency room.

He imagined his nurse looking at him as if he had lost her mind.

'Cut off her clothes? Strip her naked? She merely has a cut finger. All she needs is for me to clean the wound. All she needs is a bandage,' Michael imagined the emergency room nurse responding.

Granted always leaping before looking, nonetheless with nothing sexual about it, the medical profession is always quick to strip patients naked. Now, that he was in a similar position, he could understand why J. R. would feel so helpless and needlessly exposed. It all made sense to him now why Madam Crystal cut away his clothes and stripped him naked.