The Opening of Melissa

But the "new her" was a wreck, a seeming sex slave to his brother and his pals in order to keep the video and the additional sexual encounters from surfacing. Melissa knew it was finally time to do something that would provoking Scott to say something and object to their outrageous behavior.

That night Walt and Scott were deeply engrossed in their wrestling video game, giving Nick and Brad a chance to corner Melissa in the kitchen.

"This has to stop," she snarled through clenched teeth, as Nick leaned in trying to kiss her.

"Nope," Brad whispered. "We have enough video on you to make a full-length feature film. Nick here is a wiz at video and he's making a movie of you. He calls it 'Slut Melissa.' He has a ton of porn sites to post it on."

Brad went on. "Melissa, we've all decided that you're gonna shave your pussy. We know you keep it nice and groomed for running and all that, but be we'd like to see you shaved. In fact, Walt has offered to do the shaving for you."

Enraged, Melissa snapped back, "Will you please stop. Please stop - how would I explain something like that to Scott?"

"Oh, tell him you saw it on the internet, and you want to try it because some running person suggested it," Brad said with a grin.

Nick chimed in, adding "I don't think Scott cares," and then laughed.

"We'll give you week or so and then Walt will help you shave." Brad said.

Whispering into her ear, Nick said, "You know what I think? I think you secretly want us to show the video to Scott and his clients and the neighbors and everyone. I think the idea turns you on. You want to be a slut," he said and then he kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Enough! Please stop this. You've done everything you could possibly do to me," Melissa said.

"Oh, not everything," Brad said. "There's one special trick you haven't shown us yet. I think it's time we raised the bar. So tonight, we're going to try something new. There's one little hole you haven't given up yet."

"No, Brad, I don't like that," she said fiercely.

"Well, you didn't seem to have any objections with the gutter guys," Nick said.

"No!!! I'm telling you they drugged me," she said, struggling to keep her voice down.

Moving in and grabbing her ass, Nick whispered, "Man that is a tight little ass you have there, Melissa. All that running really pays off. C'mon, we know you really get off on two guys at once. We saw it."

Now moving right in on top of her, whispering in the other ear, Brad said, "Does my brother fuck you there?"

"No!"

"Oh, only the gutter guys," Nick hissed.

"No, please," and she began to sob.

"You know what we say about 'No'? 'No' is not good for you. Ok, just say no. And Nick debuts the video 'Slut Melissa' tonight on the Internet. You'll be a star."

That night was a horrific night for Melissa. They all took turns fucking her, but Brad and Nick took special turns at taking her anally. She refused to have Walt in her ass, knowing that his huge cock would tear her apart. By the end of the night, all three of them had taken her many times. Things took a dark turn after all three of them had fucked her and filled her cunt and ass with loads of cum.

As she was trying to get dressed, Brad said, "Melissa, you know, Scott is planning to invite a few more guys to join our card game next week. Well, it's not cards that I'm hoping the newcomers will join in on. See, I'm planning to invite them to share in some of your delights after they see you prance around in some of the outfits I've picked up for you. After the card game, I'm pretty sure they'll be interested after they see you. It's gonna make a much better video. A bigger cast," and he laughed.

Melissa left the basement with a new level of desperation setting in. Her poor rectum had been abused over and over by both Nick and Brad and she could barely walk. She made her way silently up the stairs, carrying multiple loads of warm semen that was now beginning to drip down her legs. It was that night, that moment, that she decided. This was all going to end. She would end it.

Chapter Four

Melissa was trapped. The horrible nightmare had become an infernal machine, perpetuating itself, feeding itself, never stopping. The more the guys flirted and touched her, the more Scott believed things were wonderful and that she was getting hotter because he was having sex and eating her every night.

She couldn't believe how compliant Scott had become. Two days later, when she brought up the matter about how fresh and touchy the guys were, the only thing he would say was "I'm just so glad you're all finally getting along."

That was enough. Tonight, she decided, this was all going to come to an end, one way or another. She would force Scott into doing something and put an end to the continuous nights of being the fuck-toy of his brother and his pals.

Tonight was Game Night, which meant that the guys would, as always, be sitting several feet away from the two big curved screen displays that Scott had for his video gaming room. They would be shooting something, or shooting each other, or racing, or whatever it was that they did. But she had had enough. Tonight, Scott would have to stop it.

She slipped on the tiny black thong that Walt had just bought her to wear and stood in front of the mirror. The thong was mostly straps and holes in the front and the single piece between her butt cheeks. She slipped into the black slides with the 3-inch heels that she rarely ever wore. She much preferred her running shoes. Another glance in the mirror. "Damn," she thought "the thong does make my ass look great." Looking at the groomed natural layer of her pubic hair peeking out of the lace holes in the thong, she mused, "The boys were right."

She grabbed one of Scott's dress shirts and put it on. She tied it at the waist and simply left it unbuttoned and open in the front. "If this doesn't get Scott to put a stop to this, nothing will."

She slipped downstairs and went directly into the kitchen. With an empty tray in her hand, she took a deep breath and headed into the game room. Quietly walking around, she was picking up empty drink cans and after several seconds, she noticed that the room was quiet. She turned and all of the men were staring at her.

"Anyone care for anything from the kitchen?" she said casually, and slowly walked past them and into the other room. Several more trips from the kitchen to the game room, and she brought Game Night to a halt.

"Boy, Melissa, you are just too sexy tonight. I wonder if you can help me with this," Brad said, leaning back in his chair, displaying the erection in his trousers.

General laughter broke around the room.

"Gosh, I don't know, Brad. That looks pretty serious. Maybe you should see a doctor," Melissa said with a fake look of concern on her face. And the whole room erupted in laughter, including Scott.

"Oh, I bet you can fix it," Brad said, a smirk now on his face.

"I don't know, Brad. I'm not sure if there is anything I can do or not. I'd really have to see it first," she said, calling his bluff.

Brad stared at her for a moment and then leaned back and slowly unzipped his trousers. Pulling his trousers down below his knee, Brad pulled up his erect cock and leaned back in the chair.

"Well?"

Momentarily stunned by Brad's action, Melissa quickly recovered. "If Scott doesn't object to something, then maybe I could take a look."

Silence.

"Scott? Do you have any objection?" Melissa asked, fully expecting Scott to end it all at that moment. The playfulness in her voice now gone, replaced with an edge.

Silence. Scott looked away, then down at the floor, but remained silent.

Melissa felt the rage sweep over her. She was sure Scott would step up and end this nightmare. But he didn't. Melissa walked over to Brad, who was still seated in his chair, with his stiff cock sticking up in the air. At the edge of the chair, Melissa dropped to her knees next to him and lowered her mouth onto his rigid cock. And she began to suck. Slowly at first, then faster.

Humiliated, Scott sat in the chair, silent, staring at the floor, as his wife sucked his brother's cock right in front of him. Red faced and ashamed, Scott said nothing, while squirming and sinking lower in his chair.

After several moments, Melissa stood and looked directly at Nick, Walt and then Brad. She slowly turned and walked to the basement door and then disappeared down the stairs.

The guys followed without a word. When they arrived at the bedroom, Melissa said nothing. She untied the dress shirt and threw it to the side and, hooking her thumbs under the thongs straps at her hip, she peeled the flimsy black fabric off of her hips and tossed it aside. Slowly, she crawled onto the bed and turned her head back to look at them, her firm ass pointing directly at them.

Walt was the first one to get undressed and the first to make it to the bed.

"I'm telling you, it's time we did what the gutter guys did. That's what I say," he said to Brad and Nick.

Smiling, Melissa replied, "Well, let's see what you got, guys."

It took a while for here to manage Walt in her cunt with Brad in her ass. But she did. Nick pushed his stiff cock down her willing throat until they switched. Nick slipped into her now stretched rectum and he and Nick had her gasping and moaning with their two cocks alternating strokes into her cunt and ass.

She was still not ready to try Walt in her ass, but as both Nick and Brad continued their double team of her cunt and her ass, she took Walt's large member into her mouth. And they switched.

Two hours later, Melissa's moans could be heard echoing throughout the house.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOHH, YESSSS!" rang out loudly from the basement. It was clear there was really no longer a reason to be secretive.

"YES! Do it! Fuck me. Harder!! Oooohhhh...Do it fuck me!" she screamed, as Brad slammed away into her now stretched anus.

Soon a figure emerged in the basement bedroom doorway, as Scott slipped in and stood, watching.

Standing in the doorway, Scott Stanhope watched in silence as his wife Melissa was being fucked by three men at the same time. Walt was under his wife as she rode his massive cock, now sliding easily into and out of her loose cunt. Nick was pushing his stiff cock as far down Melissa's throat as far as he possibly could, and she eagerly responded by pulling his hips into her face as hard as she could. Scott's brother, Brad, was smoothly pumping his cock into Melissa slippery asshole, in rhythm with Walt's giant cock sliding in and out of her cunt.

Seeing Scott come through the bedroom door, all four of them stopped. Slowly, Brad eased his cock out of Melissa's asshole and turned to look at his brother. Still on his knees behind Melissa's upturned ass, he stared at his brother. Melissa calmly slid off to one side of Walt's large frame and also stared at her husband. They were all frozen, waiting for Scott. Waiting for Scott to say something, or to do something, to stop them. But he only looked down. Then he looked back at them and then again, stared down at the floor.

"Do you want us to stop?" Melissa finally said, not knowing what to expect in response.

But he said nothing. Scott was silent, shamed face and humiliated, as his brother and two of his friends ravished his beautiful wife's body.

Scott looked back up, now at his Melissa, poised on the bed, her firm ass still in the air. She was a wreck, makeup smeared. Mouth red from kissing and sucking cock. Scott could see small globs of dried cum streaking her tangled long brown hair. Small drops of cum were now seeping out between her swollen, red cunt lips. Her entire vagina looked raw, red and puffy.

Christ, he thought to himself, what have I done? Scott looked at his brother and then back at Melissa, her gorgeous ass now wide open and waiting for his brother's cock. He couldn't believe the sight of her used asshole, now stretched so wide, gaped open and upturned in his direction. Scott's body trembled as he stood there watching his wife.

"Scott, do you want us to stop?" Melissa asked again.

Scott still didn't answer and again only hung his head in humiliation.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was only several seconds, Melissa threw her leg back over Walt's hips and said, "Fuck me, Walt."

With that, Brad instantly slammed his cock back into Melissa's inviting ass.

"AAAHHHH YES. Put that cock in me!" she yelled. "Fuck me. Fuck my ass!" and the four began go at it as if Scott Stanhope weren't even there.

It was truly surreal as Scott stood and watched for countless minutes as the three men used his wife in ways he could never have imagined. None of the four even noticed when he slipped away.

Chapter Five

Melissa never came to bed that night. In the morning, Scott Stanhope woke to an empty house. They were all gone - Melissa, his brother, Walt and Nick. Scott didn't go into the office that day. He sat around the house, trying to call Melissa and blaming himself.

"I should have told her," he repeated. "I should have told her," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't shake it. The image had been burned into his mind. He vividly saw the picture of Melissa being double penetrated by his brother and his friend at the same time. His mind ached as he realized his cock was rock hard from that picture in his mind of his beautiful wife, on the bed, stuffed full of cock. He tried to focus and figure out what to do next.

Scott's torment went on for ten long days. He tried calling Melissa but got no answer. He left dozens of messages on her voicemail. He tried calling his brother. No answer. He couldn't reach Brad or any of his pals for the next ten days. He even went to Brad's workplace and was told that Brad took some vacation time. He called around and no one had seen or heard from Melissa. They had all just disappeared.

After day twelve of Melissa's disappearance, Scott Stanhope received a simple text from his wife. It read:

tomorrow night Twist's 8pm

It was cryptic, confusing. Scott had no idea what it meant. Then he remembered - Twist's. Twist's was a new Bar and Lounge that opened downtown in the city about a year ago. He had read about it and he and Melissa even talked about it, but they never went. Not really their style, he thought. Twist's was a very posh, very pricey bar and lounge in the heart of busy downtown. It was known as the place where the rich and beautiful people hook up for fun, sex, whatever you wanted.

The following night at 8 o'clock, Scott Stanhope passed through the doors at Twist's.

Walking through the door, Scott felt like he had stepped back in time. The Art Deco interior was amazing, like stepping into the 1930s. Chrome, mirrors, black leather chairs, blue beams of light cut through the haze - the lounge emanated a certain heat, not just from the ultra-interior, but from the people in it.

Scott stopped for a moment, as he crossed into the middle of the dimly lit lounge. He didn't see Melissa anywhere. He knew it. He knew she wouldn't show. She had to be too ashamed to show her face to him, or too angry. The lounge was crowded, filled with all the beautiful people, all dressed fashionably, revealingly, all of the women were sexy, fantastic, all gorgeous. They were all showing off the assets they had to offer in their revealing outfits, and all hunting for their next sexual partner. It was the clear definition of meat market, Scott thought.

He looked around and saw no trace of Melissa at the small tables and booths. He wandered about, looking at people sitting at the tables in the darkened corners, most totally oblivious of the out-of-place man roaming the lounge. He started to move over to the bar. Maybe she was over there, he thought. After five steps toward the bar, Scott Stanhope stopped dead in his tracks. All the color vanished from his face. There sitting at the bar was his wife, Melissa.

Was it? No, his mistake. No, he was wrong. Not her. She wasn't going to show, he thought to himself. Wait. No. Couldn't be. Surely not. His wife Melissa Stanhope had been missing for thirteen days, but it wasn't possible that this woman at the bar was her? The woman resembled Melissa in some respects, but something was clearly off. It couldn't be Melissa.

"Nope, couldn't be Melissa," he thought, the hair was all wrong. His wife was a brunette. Yes, this woman was a brunette, a strikingly beautiful brunette, but with golden red highlights streaking her hair, making it look like she was glowing. Her long brown hair was twisted up on top of her head, a long silver hair pin holding the twist. And Melissa rarely wore a lot of makeup. The woman sitting at the bar was wearing long dark eyelashes, dark eyeshadow and with thick, sexy lips dripping in glossy red lipstick. This woman radiated sex out of every pore of her body. She was an erotic feast for the eyes. "Nope," Scott thought to himself, "that's not Melissa." This woman exuded a powerful, animal sex vibe. This was definitely not his Melissa.

The woman was slim like Melissa and around Melissa's height but, but this couldn't be his wife, he thought. The beautiful brunette wore a tight, cobalt blue leather dress, slit high up the side, revealing a long black nylon stocking clad leg, as she sat at the bar. The black high heels were at least 4 inches high, maybe 5. He didn't know the designer's name, but knew that from the famous red soles, these were expensive shoes. No, it can't be Melissa, Scott thought. She'd never wear shoes like that. The leather dress was strapless and pushed the woman's small, firm breasts up and out. It was cut so low that everyone could easily see the top half of her dark brown areolas peeking out over the blue leather edge of the tight-fitting bodice. This woman had a rich vine tattoo coming over her left shoulder and weaving its way down toward her left breast, culminating in three small flowers at the end of the vine.

No, he muttered to himself. This wasn't Melissa. Maybe... wait, he would recognize those legs anywhere. But this made no sense at all. Maybe the lights around the bar were confusing him. The woman at the bar was sitting next to a very tall, young man with close cropped blonde hair, and they were deeply engrossed in a very intimate conversation, as she openly stroked her hand high up on his thigh. The guy was massive, rough looking, Scott thought - an ex-con or a Navy Seal, maybe. Definitely, very rough looking. Now, looking closer, Scott realized, the woman was actually moving her hand with regular strokes across the large bulge in the front of the young man's trousers.

Scott took three more steps towards her, and the movement caused the beautiful brunette at the bar to stop and turn towards him.

"Scott," she said softly, in a low voice that barely slipped out between her glossy red lips.

"Melissa? Is that you?" he muttered.

"Scott, thank you for coming," she said in a husky voice. Scott couldn't tell if the woman exhaled the words, or if she was actually speaking. Her stunning beauty confused his mind. No, this was Melissa. It was Melissa! That snapped him back to reality.

"I've got a table for us over there," she said, as she gestured over into a dark corner of the lounge. She leaned over and slid her tongue into the younger man's mouth, the grip of her other hand still firmly fastened to the raging erection in his pants, and she held it tight for several seconds.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back," she breathed.

They walked across the darken lounge toward an empty table with a small Reserved sign.

"Tomorrow, I'm bringing over a couple of things to the house from my attorney, Bob Rogers.

"You mean our attorney, Bob Rogers," Scott said, correcting her mistake.

"No, Bob is now my attorney," Melissa said, stopping next to the empty table. "By the way, did you know that Bob has a really nice sized cock on him? And fuck... he can go for hours.