She felt odd. People were talking all around her, but she wasn't hearing what they were saying. A waiter came by and filled her glass again. Under the table she felt a hand stroking her leg. Something was wrong, but what? She closed her eyes and tried to think. There was someone she needed to see; someone she needed to talk to. The hand was stroking her thigh. She shook her head to try and clear it and the room seemed to revolve, to turn in slow motion. She tried to stand up and fell against someone. She felt her jacket being placed on her shoulders.

She felt herself being moved through the room and then she was in a car and someone was stroking her body. She felt hands on her tits; fingers working on her pussy and it felt good. A tongue snaked its way into her mouth and she wondered if she should return the kiss and then she sent her tongue searching. She felt her hand being placed on something and she looked down and saw an erect penis and as the tongue in her mouth worked around her tongue she felt a hand on her wrist and the hand began to move her hand up and down. She felt strange, almost like she had no strength to either fight against or accept what was happening to her. The fingers in her pussy and the tongue in her mouth were insistent and she began to feel warmth flood her body. She glanced down and saw her hand stroking the penis. Why did she have her hand on a penis, and why was she stroking it.

And then she was in a house. Her house? No, she didn't think so. A light came on and she saw the bed. Yes! Rest, that's what I need, rest, and then she moved to the bed and fell on it. She felt something tugging at her hips and then she felt nothing at all.

I couldn't quite believe my eyes when I saw her across the room. It had been five years since I'd last seen her and the hatred that I'd thought that I'd finally buried surged to the surface again. I watched as she moved across the room and there was something odd about her movements and then I understood - she was drunk. A germ of an idea - a light bulb going off over my head - I turned to my companion, "Mason, how would you like to do me a huge favor."

"Sure Mike, what do you want?"

"See that woman over there, the one in the silver cocktail dress? She is already drunk, but I want you to move in on her and get her even drunker. I want you to get her so blitzed that she won't know who she is or where she is and then we are going to have some fun with her."

I watched Mason as he made his way over to the woman, the woman who five years ago had been my wife, and I prayed, really and truly prayed that he would be successful in what I had asked him to do. If things worked out as well as I hoped by this time tomorrow she would be ruined.

I remembered it almost as if it had happened yesterday. I had come home from work to find Brenda packing suitcases. We'd had a rather nasty argument the night before over money, specifically our lack of it, but I didn't think it had been that bad. I asked her what she was doing and she said she was leaving me.

"You are nothing but a loser Mike. You have no prospects for ever being better than you are right now; you are boring as hell and you are not worth a shit in bed. I see no earthly reason for staying with you."

The divorce cost me everything that I had and for a year I walked around feeling sorry for myself and becoming a drunk. During that year she remarried and her new husband was one of the upwardly mobile yuppies who was making a name for himself in business and social circles. During that same year my best friend George decided to do something for me that I didn't seem to want to do for myself. He forced me to come back to the living; made me by the force of his will, not mine, give up drinking and go back to having a life.

I did however get the last laugh where Brenda was concerned. In an ironic twist of fate the woman who left me for someone else who could give her all the material things she wanted got to pick up the paper one morning and read about her ex-husband winning 17.6 million dollars in the state lottery. To say that my life got better would be an understatement. I had every thing that I wanted, but I didn't have what I most needed - a way to make Brenda pay for what she'd done.

Until now.

I watched as Mason maneuvered Brenda into the back seat of the limo and then I climbed in front and sat with George. On the way to the house I watched as Mason worked her tits out of her dress and began to work his fingers into her pussy. When he french kissed her and then put her hand on his cock I almost pissed my pants with excitement because it looked like my plan was going to work. I turned to George who was playing chauffeur that night and asked him, "Would you like a taste of that George?"

He grinned and said, "Yes sir, I certainly would."

I smiled as I pictured the look on Brenda's husband's face as he looked at a picture of George's coal black body on top of his lily-white wife. When we got home George helped Mason carry Brenda up to the bedroom. She fell on the bed and I told them to strip her, "Leave the six hundred dollar Manolo high heels on her, but take everything else off."

While they were peeling Brenda I went and got my digital camera. I love that little sucker. You could take a picture, walk over to the computer, plug into a USB port and in less that two minutes have a print coming off the printer. I showed Mason how to operate the camera and then I stripped and went over to Brenda. I didn't want there to be any doubt about who was behind what was being done to her. I had several pictures taken with my cock in various orifices all the while smiling for the camera and then it was my turn to take the pictures. The first twenty or thirty were all posed photos of George and Mason with their dicks in interesting places. I made sure that they all faced away from the camera while making equally sure that Brenda was always looking into it. Drunk enough to be in a semi-stupor, but not drunk enough to pass out, Brenda was the perfect subject - eyes wide open and looking straight into the camera. When I had all the posed shots I wanted I said, "All right guys, get your fill."

As George buried his black pole in Brenda and started fucking her I went into the bathroom and got the smelling salts out of the first aid kit. Back in the bedroom I listened to the little grunts made by Brenda as George pounded into her cunt. I gave the smelling salts to Mason and told him to wait until I got into position with the camera and then to break the smelling salts under Brenda's nose. When I gave the signal he broke the capsule and Brenda's eye's shot wide open, looking up at George and I took the picture.

For the rest of the night I moved around the room and took photo after photo as Mason and George fucked Brenda in every way possible. They both fucked her cunt, they both shot loads down her throat, and they both fucked her in her ass (something that she had never allowed me to do) and the best part of it was that after the first hour or so Brenda began to get with it. She was half in and half out of it, but to the camera she looked like she was having a great time. I got some great shots of George in her ass while Mason stuffed her cunt and then a couple more when they switched.