A Devil's Wage

by

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Reluctant, Rape, Heterosexual, Wife Watching, Rough, Gang Bang, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: he and his wife share a fantasy, but things soon take a horrific turn as they realize they are past the point where the word "no" can save her from being raped.

[This story contains graphic descriptions of sex activity. It deals with voyeurism and multiple-partner scenarios. Some of the scenes herein can definitely be considered as non-consensual in nature, at the edge of actual rape, and are definitely extremely "rough" at points. If you are offended by such material, please do not read further. All characters are over eighteen years of age.

As always, I do appreciate your taking the time to cast a vote, and really enjoy posted comments. So please, don't hesitate to express your views.]

"What's this?" Ellen said with a mischievous grin, plucking the oversized envelope from high on the Christmas tree. "Has your name on it. See."

"To Frank, from Santa," I read aloud as she slid atop my lap, dallying the card before me.

"Better open it and see what the big guy has to say," she whispered.

I took it from her, ripping the seam with my thumbnail. I could see she was anticipating my reaction, that little air of nervousness, the furtive way she buried her nose into my neck. She'd obviously done the card on our computer; there was my wife sitting lotus style in front of the fireplace, an outsized Santa hat creeping down comically over her eyes. I chuckled at it, the goofy, playful smile of hers—a bushy pink bathrobe, and a truly outlandish pair of bunny slippers.

"Very chic," I commented dryly.

"All for you, Baby," she cooed close to my ear. "Check inside."

The certificates almost fell out onto our laps. Three of them on heavy stationary, each cut to roughly the size of a dollar bill, white with bright holly edging. I angled the top one down for my bifocals as Ellen shyly buried her face against my chest.

"Nice," I blurted appreciatively, reading the coupon again, nudging her with my shoulder.

There she was, front and center, my lovely wife, decked in an equally lovely short red dress—a mini Ms. Claus dress, I guess you'd call it, hemmed with white fur, lots of leg, cut low off the shoulders. The robe and slippers were strewn at her feet, curly brown hair spilling down across her shoulders.

"Very embarrassing," I heard her mutter.

"This could be the best gift I ever had."

"Could be?" she scoffed, punching me softly in belly.

I cleared my throat and read from the certificate, my smile broadening with each word.

WITH ALL MY LOVE, ELLEN

JUST ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE—AND YES, THAT MEANS "ANYTHING"

I rifled through the rest of them. Ellen had posed differently in each; bent provocatively at the waist, down on her knees, hiking that already ultra-short mini up a wee bit short of her knickers. She looked absolutely terrific.

"Something maybe thirty-two year old mothers shouldn't be doing," she said, finally lifting her eyes to mine.

"You look great," I answered, pecking her lips with a quick kiss. "How'd you think of this?"

"Out 'n out plagiarism," she laughed. "Book I was reading. Writer had her lady character give her husband a set of these."

"Did he make good use of them?"

"They had other issues," she said judiciously.

"Well I can pretty much promise you that won't happen with us."

"Never thought it would," she whispered at my ear, her tongue tracing along its many ridges and valleys.

"Think I'm gonna have to use one of these right now," I muttered, feeling that familiar warm swell low in my chest.

"Uh, uh," Ellen said, wagging a scolding finger. "You supposed to use these for something special, some deep dark fantasy ... And remember, I can't say no."

"That could posit some interesting scenarios."

"Legal tender, both public and private."

"Some very, very interesting scenarios."

"Let's hope so," she said full of play now, pulling me up to my feet, rising tippy-toed to bring her lips to mine, her fingers tracing the front of my jeans—a discovery—and slowly pulling me off towards the bedroom.


I guess at heart I'm a bit of a miser, something that had really not appeared in my character up till Ellen gave me those vouchers. I just didn't want to "cash" them in so to speak, and so, quiet bizarrely, simply hoarded them, secreting two of them in my sock drawer and neatly folding the remaining one in the billfold of my wallet.

Ellen for her part was more than amused by this turn of events, teasing me on more than one occasion as to my ultimate plans for them.

I just couldn't get myself to waste them; that I guess was it in a nutshell. My wife has always been a generous and occasionally daring lover, a girl aware of her innate sexiness and the power it entailed over the men in her life. A flirt in a nuanced way, a reveler in fantasy; a woman relaxed in the fiery lust she still was able to stoke within me.

We'd been married for just over twelve years by then, two kids, a nice home; a nicer life. We had a deep affection for each other, a certain corporal loyalty seeded by years of monogamous fucking.

"I bet you're saving them for something absolutely debauched," she whispered one afternoon, coming upon them as she arranged clothes in our dresser.

"Maybe," I smiled.

"Remember, I can't say no," she grinned, suddenly full of mischief.

"No veto?"

"Nope."

"That's taking quite a chance," I parried, stepping up to nuzzle her slender neck, the sound of the kids running around downstairs telling me that this wasn't going to much further.

"I fully understand the implications, sir," she whispered throatily, lolling her head back with my attentions.

"I could..."

"You could give one of them out to some strange man," she half purred, knowing that this would stiffen me. "Then sit back and watch me have to entertain him."

I chuckled softly. It was always one of my darker fantasies to be a voyeur, a particular bent I'd harbored since I was barely in my teens. We'd been engaged for almost a year when Ellen first pried it out of me, laying in bed, spent from one of those vigorous, mind-blasting fuck sessions you'd have when you were twenty-one. Asking me what my favorite sexual fantasy was, coaxing me, teasing, finally laying it out that I'd probably want to see her with some other girl, the two of them doing it for my amusement. I said she was far closer than she knew, hesitant, wanting to say it aloud, leaping across the dangerous chasm; "not with another girl" ... that pause and the so-delicious grin that crossed her young face as the image coalesced, a crinkle of her nose; "another guy?" Or "guys" I whispered back on that long ago night, still able to hear her peel of laughter as she punched away at my bare chest and called me a pervert.

It was something my wife had always enjoyed playing with, a bit of hushed naughtiness that riled me more than any other single thing. Just like she was doing now...

"That I could do," I heard myself answer with a tight laugh.

"What would I have to do?"

"Whatever he wanted."

Ellen disengaged from my grasp and slipped across the floor, closing the bedroom door and pushing the lock button on the knob.

"Anything at all?" she asked, smiling, lowering to her knees, lifting her blouse over her head. " ... Would you let him fuck me?"

I nodded and walked in front of her, feeling her small hand deftly work my belt buckle, the zipper gliding down slow, then pulling and tugging till I sprang free.

"And you'd watch?"

Ellen had me in her mouth as she muttered the words, wetly sliding up and down my shaft, her tongue swirling beneath me. I rested a hand atop her head, a silky mop of dark hair. I made a small gasp as she gently cupped my testicles.

"What if he wanted to come inside me?" she said, her face hard and shiny as she pulled back from my cock, dropping the straps of her brassiere off her shoulders and just lowering the satiny cups off her rounded breasts.

"If that's what he wanted to do." My hand was shaking as I grasped a fistful of her hair.

"You'd let him?"

I nodded tightly, keyed up as she went back onto me, working faster now, a scrape of teeth, her gaze constantly flickering up to mine.

Footsteps coming up the hall fast, our oldest girl Amy trying the knob: "Mom!"

Ellen fixed her eyes on mine, grinning around my swollen dick, sucking it, rocking her head from side to side.

"Mommy's busy," I wheezed, my tone shaky now.

"I need her!"

"In a minute," I answered, then dropping my voice: " ... She'll be all done in a minute."

"But I need her now!"

Ellen's smallish fingers were stroking that patch of skin below my balls now, a wave a crackling pleasure churning up my body.

"I'm gonna come," I mouthed.

Ellen suctioned harder, her cheeks hollowing out with the effort, a flicker on her face as the first spurt of semen filled her mouth, bucking myself against her hard now, tugging her hair, emptying myself fully as she momentarily struggled for air.

"Mom!" The knob was turning again, rattling harder.

"Here I come," Ellen gasped impatiently, offering me a quick wink as she quickly stood up, slipping the straps of her bra back into place and readjusting the cups. Her mouth glistened lewdly. I reached out and took a firm tit in my hand, gently rolling the hardened nipple through the fabric.

"You owe me one tonight, buddy," she said close to my ear, then bent and picked up her blouse, motioning for me to straighten myself.

"Mommy!" My other little girl out there now, a shrill chorus—way too shrill coming as it did a mere thirty seconds after I'd just violated their Mom's mouth.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Mult / Reluctant / Rape / Heterosexual / Wife Watching / Rough / Gang Bang /