Wife Fucked to Pay Debt

She scurried to him, quickly kneeling and fishing his cock from his trousers. It was massive, easily the biggest I had ever seen. But, then Mr. Wilson was probably six and two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle. Janet greedily sucked the cock head into her mouth as she stroked the shaft. He put his hand on her head to guide her. (read part one of this story here)

"Watch, Jackson! Watch the stupid Wilson slut suck my cock! Tomorrow night I am coming to your house. I will leave with my money... or, I will leave with your wife and daughters who will do what Janet is doing until I have my money!"

"No. Please! Have mercy!" I whimpered.

"I have no mercy! Your wife and daughters will be my whores until they have earned back my money! Now, come here!! You need to learn what sucking my cock is like since you are forcing your wife and daughters to do it."

He shoved Janet aside and yanked me between his legs. He was so loud I felt like a child, unable to resist even if I had tried. I could barely get his massive cock in my mouth, but he did not care about that. He jammed it in and out. When I put my hands up in protest, he whipped that cock across my face. Then he came, pulling out, coming on my face and hair, leaving me covered in his Wilson sticky cum. He shoved me out of the way. I was too terrified to even wipe his dripping cum from my cheeks. Janet scurried between his legs again to clean his cock with her mouth, sucking and slurping, as I felt his cum drying on my face.

"Tomorrow night. Don't try to run or hide or call the police. It will only make me mad! Now, get out."

It was late when I got home. I had cleaned up at a service station, asking for the key as the attendant snickered at my cum covered face. I had stopped at a bar for a few drinks to build my courage. Jamie was asleep when I got home. I sneaked in the shower, then crawled in our bed by her, wondering if she would be ver be there next to me again.

I could not sleep. My mind, my body, my soul was paralyzed by fear, fear of what I had done and what would happen to my family as a result. I left early for work, before she awakened, leaving her a note. That night, I got home for dinner about seven. She was at the kitchen table, grading papers.

"Jackson, are you alright? You have been acting funny lately? Is something wrong?"

"No. Everything is fine."

I heard the front door open.

"Who is that I wonder?" she said, as she disappeared into the living room.

"WHO..."

I wet myself, sitting in my own piss, paralyzed with fear.

Mr. Wilson walked into the room carrying my wife in his arms like a Sweetie except her mouth was taped shut, her arms handcuffed behind her. She was frightened like I had never seen her before, shaking uncontrollably, her face ashen and sweating. His associate pointed a gun at me as Mr. Wilson ordered me to sit. He put Jamie in the chair next to me. She was sobbing, making a sound like a dove which has been shot and is dying, the plaintiff, cooing sound of an innocent who is lost.

"If you can be quiet, I will remove the gag," Mr. Wilson said to Jamie. She nodded, and he yanked the tape from her face. She said nothing, only sobbing quietly.

"Has your husband explained the problem, Jamie?" His voice sounded like a caring professional rather than a seasoned criminal.

She stared at me, her eyes questioning before she shook her head no. He started talking, telling her my whole gambling history. He even knew I had maxed out the credit cards and home equity loan for my addiction. Jamie said nothing, but, her eyes flitted back and forth between us. I could tell she could not believe what I had done, the loss, the danger it put her in. She was in shock from it.

"What are you going to do to us, Mr. Wilson?" she asked, the hysteria in her voice barely controlled.

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