Chapter 8

Sandra wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Shame and mortification flooded through her, crimsoning her downcast face. She was paralyzed with fear, too terrorized even to pull her skirt down over her still lewdly splayed thighs. She was painfully, desperately aware of her husband standing over her, his eyes traveling over the naked plane of her vagina, over her white nylon panties so casually discarded, over Sam's cowering, abject figure.

Unable to stand it any longer, Sandra hid her face in her hands, and started to sob helplessly, her body shaking with the force of her weeping. This was the end of everything! Mike had discovered her with Sam, spying on him. Sam would tell him everything, about the dog, about the veterinarian, McLean... Fresh sobs convulsed her as she thought of his rage, his fury. He'd kill her!

There was an ominous silence, broken only by her stifled sobs. Why doesn't Mike say something, do something? her mind wondered, anything to make this terrible moment pass. It seemed an eternity since he had called her those names. Now at least, anger, abuse would be natural! This silence wasn't.

"Well, Maguire, what are you waiting for?" Mike's voice, cold and toneless with rage and hatred rang out. "You're not going to stop now, are you?"

New terror gripped the frightened wife. What did Mike mean?

"I... uh... I..." Sam mumbled, his face beet red.

"Get on with it!" Mike snapped, and Sandra recoiled from the edge in his voice.

"W-with what?" Sam mumbled dully.

"You can't leave the little lady lying there waiting, can you?" Mike sneered, a sarcastic pitch sharpening his voice.

A new flood of embarrassment washed over Sandra. Oh God, what punishment was he planning for her?

"No," Sam answered fatuously, his eyes turning to Sandra's sprawled figure.

"Okay then, let's see what it is that she can't do without!" Mike jeered.

Sandra couldn't help herself. "No Mike, please..."

"Shut up, you little whore!" he snapped, his eyes blazing.

Sandra cringed back against the wall, trying to stand up straight, but only succeeding in falling against the bales of straw in the corner.

"What do I have to do?" Sam asked, relieved to find Peters' anger directed towards his wife.

"I'll tell you what to do!" Mike snarled, "but first let me get the little lady, sorry, the whore, ready!"

Sandra cowered piteously as Mike approached her, and shielded her face with her arm. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, and pulled her to her feet. With one swift pull, he tore away her skirt, leaving her hips and thighs stark naked. And with a further exertion, he ripped the buttons of her blouse, tearing it from her shoulders. Last of all, he snatched away her blouse, leaving her totally naked.

"Oh God, please don't..." she sobbed, trying to cling to her husband's arm, trying to elicit some warmth in him. His only response was to fling her roughly onto the hay covered floor, where she fell in a disorderly heap, skinning her elbow against the stall, her body bruised from the unyielding surface. She wanted to cry, but couldn't. She could only lie there, a victim of her husband's mounting fury.

"Eve!" he called imperiously, "come and watch the show!" Sandra was aware of the young blonde milkmaid, slinking out of a corner where she had taken refuge. She was still naked and she looked very young and frightened, and she flattened herself against the wall, terrified of what was going on.

"All right, we can begin the show," Mike sneered, "and by Christ, the leading lady had better give a good performance!"

Sandra lay prostrate on the floor, unable to feel anything, conscious only of a desire for the whole perverted thing to be over with.

"Okay, Maguire, we're waiting for you! Get ready!"

Sam numbly began to undress, lifelessly discarding his clothes, until he, too, was stark naked, his prick banging semi-erect, jutting out half-heartedly from a tuft of reddish hair.

"Now let's think of a name for our show." Mike continued to jeer, "What about 'Wife turned Whore', or let me see. What about 'What Happens to a Cheating Wife'."

There was silence all around. Unperturbed, Mike snapped, "There's your cue, Maguire! You're on stage!"

Sandra stared at her husband in disbelief. Was he really expecting them to go through with this travesty? Had he gone insane? Incredulously, Sandra saw Sam shuffling towards her. He couldn't, he wouldn't touch her in front of Mike!

"Okay, Maguire," Mike's voice rang out again, "spread the lady's legs wide, real wide!"

Sandra shrank back down into the hay as Sam ambled nearer, and then she had to stifle a scream as his hands rested on her ankles. "No! No!" she screamed, trying to keep her legs together. But he was too strong for her, and slowly, he forced her thighs apart, revealing the deep pink cleft of her trembling pussy. Shame crept like a smothering blanket over her as she felt the evening air rush in on her moist pussy. Oh God, I wish I were dead, her mind sobbed.

"Well, well, look at that!" Mike jeered, his voice dripping with scorn. "A nice juicy cunt, all wet and ready! You did a good job earlier, Maguire. Let's hope you can keep up the good work!"

Sandra wanted to put her hand down to cover her nakedness, but she was afraid of what Mike might do! She knew it would be fatal to cross him now, the mood he was in.

"Now, bitch," her husband spat, "it's your turn! Take that nice big cock that you're so fond of, and make it nice and hard, 'cause you don't want a limp prick in that cunt of yours, now do you?" Sandra felt a retch of nausea cramp her stomach. She couldn't believe that this was the man she had married, her husband!

"I'm waiting, slut!" he snapped, edging closer.

Sandra's heart thudded painfully. She was afraid to appeal to him again. That only seemed to incense him. But she couldn't, she just couldn't do as he said! But she had no choice. She trembled at the thought of what he would do to her if she refused. He'd kill her! Mike edged even closer, and Sandra made up her mind. She had to comply! There was no way out!

Her hand was shaking as she reached up and tentatively slipped her fingers around Sam's awakening prick. The lewd words seemed to have an exciting effect on the workman, and his member was already bobbing out, cleaving the air like a snake, the surface glistening with the blood of passion. Sandra could feel it throbbing under her touch, and she sensed that it was growing in dimension as she held it.

"Put more life into it!" her husband commanded, his voice perilously near, and Sandra began to move her fingers slightly, hoping to satisfy his demand.

"Tickle his balls, bitch!" Mike ordered, his voice shrill, "tickle your lover's balls!"

Numbed with mortification and fear, Sandra obediently cupped Sam's hairy pendulous balls in her palm and massaged them gently, feeling the roiling of his sperm as they gathered in the darkness of his testicles. Her body ached from soreness and the hard floor, and she thought she'd pass out before much longer. Faintly, she hoped for a miracle, that her husband would grow tired of his game.

"Now, we're ready for the big one! Now, leading lady, look at what your lover has got for you!"

Sandra forced herself to open her eyes, and they dropped to the bulging red protuberance a scant foot away. It was huge and thick and long-much bigger than she'd ever seen it!

"Is it big enough for you? Is it? Is it?" Mike shrieked, his face reddening in his excitement and fury.

"Yes, it is..." Sandra mumbled wearily, sinking back against the floor. If only it was all over...

"Kneel down in front of your mistress, Maguire!" Mike's thickened voice rang out again, and the wretched hired man, torn between fear and mounting desire, obediently settled himself between Sandra's quivering legs.

"Now slut, this is what you've been waiting for! Take hold of his prick and lead it towards that starving little pussy of yours!"

Sandra blanched when she heard her husband's latest demands. It was too much - she had suffered enough. She couldn't do it, couldn't degrade herself further, and in front of Eve, too... Oh, God, what was she to do?

"You heard what I said!" Mike's voice was livid with rage. It was no use! She had to do it...

Fighting back her tears, Sandra reached down once more and grasped the rock-hard cock in her hand, and slowly, began to guide it towards the tiny cringing hole of her pussy. She rested the hard, bulbous head against the delicate petal-shaped opening, her breath quickening in fear.

"All right, Maguire, get ready. I'll tell you when to go!"

All feeling left Sandra. She was suffering the ultimate degradation. And she didn't care. She was beyond any normal emotion. Her body was left to take the punishment, while her mind sought refuge in numbness.

"Get ready, get set!" Mike's voice, quivering with excitement, called out. "One, two, three... GOOOOOO... ! !"

Sam sprang forward on his boss' order, oblivious to everything but his rising passion and his desire to appease his employer. He surged forward with brutal strength, crashing through the soft, unresisting barrier of her outer cunt lips, slicing through the tender vaginal sheath like a knife through melted butter.