The Debt

Chapter 1

They had broken or at least cracked two ribs on the right side and my nuts felt like they were smashed. The pain was nearly more than I could bear as I struggled from where they dumped me in front of my house. Bridget would help me I know she would. She has to. I couldn't take another beating like this.

Somehow I crawled to the door and reached for the door bell. The stretch aggravated the ribs and forced me to collapse on the stoop. Even knowing that the neighbors would hear me I kicked at the door and hollered for Bridget to let me in.

The door opened just a crack. She peered out and screamed when she looked down on me laying on the stoop. The door swung open and she dropped to her knees next to me. I looked in her horrified face and began to sob.

"It's bad babe. Real bad," I gasped.

She begged, "What happened?"

I managed to get out, "Help me get inside."

With her help I was able to pull myself onto my knees and get to my feet. Using her as a crutch we made it into the living room where I dropped onto the sofa.

I began my confession...

"I'm so sorry. After I lost my job I figured I could get in a high stakes poker game and win us some real money. I took out what was left of our savings and bought into a big poker game. I lost that and they let me have credit. I lost that too. I've always done really well playing penny anti with the guys. I thought... Bottom line I'm into them for five grand and when I couldn't come up with the money Mr. Handsome had his men beat me. He had them dump me in the street outside. He said that Max and Jorge would be back every Friday to repeat this until I paid up."

Bridget looked that look that says without a word. "You have to be kidding Marty. How could you do something so stupid?"

Then she shook her head and glared, "First things first. We need to get you to the emergency room and take care of your injuries."

I looked away and explained, "We'll have to take your car. They kept mine."

After some creative explanations (We told them I had been mugged.) and a credit card the doctor on duty had my ribs wrapped and prescribed pain pills and ice packs for my nuts. The x-rays showed three cracked ribs that should heal in about 6 weeks. He was sympathetic and assured that no permanent damage had been done. He insisted that he must call the police.

The officer took down our fabricated tale and told us they would try to find the culprits and would keep me posted on their progress. Four white thugs in their early twenties or late teens with baseball bats would probably be kind of difficult to locate. My descriptions were not too specific.

On the way home we stopped at CVS and filled the Rx for Vicotin. I couldn't summon the courage to tell Bridget the rest of the story. It could wait until morning. I could tell that she knew that there was more.

The Vicotin helped enough to allow some sleep. But I awoke every time I tried to change positions. By 7, I couldn't stay in bed any longer. The pain had slacked off enough so I was able to move about on my own. Slowly and gingerly I managed to make it to the bathroom and took my morning piss. I washed my hands and splashed water on my face. With a remarkable bit of determination, at least for me, I stumbled to the kitchen. I gathered some ice cubes and wrapped them in a towel. When I was reclining in the Lazy boy I delicately pushed the ice filled towel against the family jewels. The cold seemed to just add another discomfort to the equation. But the doctor had insisted that it was necessary to keep the swelling down.

Perhaps being a bit of a masochist I chuckled, "And to think I was envious of the guys at the gym with big testicles hanging below a thick dick."

I pulled my pajamas open and inspected the damaged area. "Swollen nuts look sort of out of place pulled up below my penis. Oh well, as they say, size isn't important. It's how you use what you have. Anyway Bridget hasn't complained; at least not to me. That last thought hit me like a brick. I had to talk to Bridget. "But how do I tell her?"

When I looked up Bridget was coming into the family room. She was wearing her pink, shear, nylon robe over a set of light blue lacy babydolls. She had pulled her shoulder length brunette hair into a pony tail. I must be better this morning because watching her always erotic walk was making my dick tingle.

"Damn she has nice legs."

Actually she has nice everything. But her most arresting feature is her mouth; just the right amount of puffiness to her lips and a smile that melts me when she aims it toward me.

Right now her expression was one of concern. It wouldn't last long when I told her the rest of the story. It had to be now.

She spoke first, "How you doing hon? Can I get you something? Do you feel like eating? How about some coffee?

I couldn't look her in the eye. So my reply as I stared at the floor," I'm doing okay. Yeh, coffee would be good. Not hungry though." was all I could muster.

She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

As she turned to the kitchen she looked back and smiled, "I'll be back in a jiff with your coffee."

It seemed only a minute but in reality it was much longer. Why is it when you need more time the time goes by so fast? I shuddered as she came toward me carrying two steaming mugs. My mouth was dry and my throat was tightening. How was I going to tell her? What would she say? Would she do it? I damn sure didn't want her to. But the alternative was more than I could stand to think about. Maybe I deserved to take more beatings but my cowardliness prevailed over my desire to spare her.

So as she handed me my coffee and sat across from me on the sofa I resolved to get it over with now. I pushed up from my chair and cringed. Bridget stood up and rushed to help me.

"Stay put Marty."

"I'm okay. I need to sit with you. I have to tell you something."

When I had sat and placed my coffee on the end table I swallowed and took a deep breath. The pain from my ribs nearly doubled me over. She reached out to me. I placed the ice and towel on the floor, took her hand and looked into the face of this angel. I was about to ask of her something no man should have to ask of his spouse.

"Bridget there is more that I am going to explain. I don't want to but..."

"You know that you can tell me anything. What could be so terrible?"

"Mr. Handsome is a racketeer type. Actually that's not his real name. It's a nickname that some have given him because of his looks. He gave me another option. He has seen you and is... well he admires you."

"So."

"He will let me off the hook for the beating he promised and he will take off a thousand from the five that I owe if you sleep with him. At least for this week."

Bridget fell silent for what seemed an eternity.

She stared off to the other side of the room and asked, "Is that what you want me to do?"

"No! That's not what I want. But..."

She stood up and turned toward me," I have to be alone and think about what "I" want to do."

Her glare was like ice. She gritted her teeth and shook her head. Then she left me. In the silence of the house I could hear her soft sobs coming from the bedroom. At that point and at least for that moment I wanted to take a beating from Max and Jorge rather than the emotional beating I was putting Bridget through.

I sat on the sofa and held my head. I began to cry. When I looked up thirty minutes had passed and Bridget was standing there with her hands on her hips. She had dressed in jeans and a blue cotton blouse.

She spoke in a raspy tone," What happens to the interest and the rest of what you owe?"

I looked away. I couldn't answer and look her in the face.

"Mr. Handsome said that if you were any good he would make the same arrangement each week until the debt was paid. With interest you must be available to him and him only for nine weeks."

"Pardon my language but you are saying that I would have to fuck him every week for nine weeks? And I have to pass some kind of audition?"

"Yeh, that's the deal he offered."

She glared at me and said, "If I do this and if I pass his test I don't think I could look at you across the table at the morning after with you looking at me wondering if I had enjoyed his sex and wondering if I would spend the rest of our lives comparing you to him."

My mouth opened but nothing came out. Her comment meant that I would be punished for as long as we were together. I had no response that would help.

She sighed and asked, "When does this arrangement begin?"

I swallowed and said, "Max and Jorge will be here Friday night at 8 to take me to Mr. Handsome's home. There they will beat me. If you are willing you will go as well and no beating."

As she walked away she said," Okay I'll do what I can. A man like that isn't likely to find me all that special though."

I argued with her, "Don't say that. You're real special. You're sexy, smart, and a fabulous lover."

"Thanks for the compliments, but I'm very inexperienced."

"Well that's probably why he wants you."

The next week passed fast. Again anticipation seems to make time fleet you're reluctant and drag if you are anxious.

Monday - Bridget went shopping. When she returned I caught a glimpse of a Victoria's Secret bag.

Tuesday - She made an appointment to have her hair and nails done Friday morning.

Wednesday - She spent relaxing and puttering around the house. Nothing had been said about Friday night.

Thursday - She seemed nervous but still didn't mention Mr. Handsome and his offer. I couldn't bring myself to bring up the subject.

As I observed her activity during the week it was obvious that she was doing special little things to prepare for her evening with Mr. Handsome. Thursday evening she moved around the house quietly smiling about something that only she understood. The more I watched the more it seemed that she might actually be looking forward to... The more I thought of my wife willingly being with this stranger the more fascinated I became. I was stunned that the thought of her being with him not only relieved me but excited me as well. I was hard all evening. I approached her and caressed her. She pulled away and said, "Not tonight hon. Until I get back tomorrow night it belongs to the man that holds your debt. You can look but don't touch." I knew then there was no doubt she was willingly going through with it.

Friday morning came and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Bridget said nothing all morning. At noon she grabbed her purse and her car keys. Without comment she went to the garage and I heard the car start. When I heard the garage door come down I went to the front window and watched the car disappear. I had overheard her make the appointment. I knew she was going to her salon to get her hair and nails done. She was doing all the things that a woman does to please a lover.

When she returned at three she looked fabulous. Her new hairstyle accentuated her green eyes and delicate facial features. There was something new about her that I didn't pick up on at first. The color change was subtle and so natural that it meshed perfectly with her tanned and flawless complexion. She would still be considered brunette but with bright auburn highlights. Her hair was wound around from the left and loosely tied on top. Several sexy strands intentionally appeared to have escaped and rested wistfully and seductively over her left eye. The look was elegant but with a promise of naughtiness.

When I realized the color change I exclaimed, "Wow! The do and color is really hot! You look great."

She smiled and thanked me for the flattering remark. After going to the fridge and opening a can of Coke she headed to the bedroom. When I looked in she was reclining on the bed propped up on several pillows. She sipped her Coke while she flipped through the channels on the TV.

She saw me and explained, "I'm going to relax with some TV for a while and take a nap. Would you mind waking me at five?"

I told her, "No problem." and left.

Chapter 2

When I went into the bedroom at five she was awake and staring at the ceiling. She had slept sitting up so as to not mess up the new hair style. She appeared to be deep in thought because when I spoke she jumped.

"It's five."

Turning toward me she yawned, stretched and stated, "Only three hours until they come to get us."

A sheet had covered her all the while she had been sleeping. When she tossed back the sheet and tossed her legs over the edge of the bed she displayed her nakedness. Her beauty had never been more evident. I was very familiar with all aspects of her sexy petite body but when she flashed her vagina my mouth fell open and my eyes grew wide.

"Good grief, you shaved your pussy!"

She smiled, "Like it? I think your Mr. Handsome or whatever his name is will like it. Don't you?"

The question hit me hard. It hurt more than the beating. I turned and left.

After fretting for nearly an hour about what was going to happen this evening I realized Bridget was not only resolved to have sex with a stranger but was actually looking forward to it. Not just any man but this mobster that held my health and even my life in his hands. Her ego demanded that she looked and behaved sexually at a level beyond that of just an ordinary housewife. She was preparing to pass all of his tests. Slowly the agony became equally mixed with an excitement that made me feel depraved. How can a husband get sexually aroused by the expectation of his wife having sex with another man? I was hard and my hands trembled. I couldn't remember ever being this sexually excited.

At seven-thirty Bridget came into the family room dressed to kill; or rather dressed to blow away her date. Date. How strange the term sounded as it ricocheted in my head like a lead bullet. My face flushed and my mouth went dry. I trembled and wanted her. The green satin evening dress hugged her curves. If she was wearing a bra it didn't hide her hardened nipples. They pointed at me and begged to be touched. Her cleavage beckoned hands to explore further. There was no sign of panty lines on her luscious hips. She wore matching green satin covered heels. Black fishnet hose drew attention to her fabulous legs. I noted that she wore no bracelet or necklace. The only jewelry was her favorite diamond stud earrings and her wedding rings. She was a goddess. Mr. Handsome would give her a passing grade as soon as she arrived.

At exactly eight the door bell chimed. I took one last look at my gorgeous wife and opened the door. Jorge was waiting impatiently and when he saw Bridget he appeared disappointed. He leered at her and licked his lips.

He sneered, "Get in the fucking limo dumbass."

It occurred to me that he might be disappointed that he probably would not be beating the crap out of me tonight. Instead Bridget would surely impress his boss. He never said a word to Bridget. He probably would fear anything crude or rude would get back to his boss.

The ride was only 5 or 6 miles but it was torture. I held Bridget's hand and tried to smile. I tried to find words that would give her strength but as I looked at her she faced straight ahead and had a look of determination. There was no sign of fear, only resolve.

When we pulled up at the front door of the mansion her eyes widened and she gasped. She tightened her grip on my hand and looked at me and whispered, "Wow."

Max opened the door on her side and held out his hand to assist her out of the limo. Bridget looked up at him, smiled and took his hand. As she slid across the seat her dress pulled up and gave a grand view of her thighs above her hose. Max noticed and quickly looked away.

I opened the door on my side and helped myself out. My careless effort pulled at my ribs and the pain brought tears to my eyes. I was reminded why we were here. Jorge closed the limo door and shoved me toward the stairs leading to the front door of the mansion.

I followed behind Bridget as she ascended the 10 marble steps to the landing. My eyes fastened on her tight and well formed butt. She twitched and swayed it with every step.

"Damn she's hot", ran through my mind.

Jorge was next to me. I looked at him and his eyes were glued on her butt as well.

Upon entering the foyer our eyes were drawn to the huge crystal chandelier that suspended from what must have been three stories above. Max guided us up the winding staircase that led to a landing on the next level. The wide hallway to the right took us to the south wing where the bedrooms were located. At the third door on the left Max tapped lightly on the door and waited.

After at least two minutes a voice said, "Please come in."

Max carefully turned the door knob and eased the door open. He stood back and motioned for us to enter. I squeezed Bridget's hand and took a deep breath. I placed my hand on her back and urged her toward the opening. I followed immediately behind her.

Mr. Handsome was sitting on the edge of a king sized bed hat was adorned with purple silk coverings. The headboard was a giant beveled mirror framed in mahogany. There must have been a dozen matching pillows scattered randomly on the bed. A lump formed in my throat as I gazed at the bed that would be the site where my wife would be offering her body to this gangster. If Bridget was having second thoughts she didn't show it.

The man was dressed in a white silk smoking jacket trimmed in gold. Below the bottom of the mid thigh jacket his legs were encased in matching silk lounging pants. I then noticed that Bridget was smiling. He definitely lived up to his nickname. His black wavy hair complemented his strong facial features. His Roman nose and high cheekbones completed the face that any woman would be drawn to. Blazing eyes that had fastened upon Bridget told of his approval. His full lips and dimpled chin promised a passion that few women could resist.

Max directed me through a doorway that led to a sitting room. I was pushed down onto a chair that was next to the doorway and faced toward the opposite wall. On the wall across from the open door was a large mirror. The mirror was situated so that the bed in the first room was fully in view. Max sat across from me and to the right. His position didn't allow him to see the bed in the bedroom. He had left the door open.

Max rose and came to my side and whispered, "Enjoy, dumb fuck." He grinned and went back to his chair. Apparently his job was to keep me under control while his boss enjoyed my wife.

In the bedroom, Mr. Handsome spoke, "Very nice. Now let's see what you're offering."

I looked at the mirror and saw Bridget reach behind and draw down the zipper of her gown. A lump constricted my throat. I couldn't watch. I looked away and saw Max grin. The sound of her zipper was like an airliner racing across the sky overhead. I swear I could hear the gown crumple to the floor.

Mr. Handsome clucked approval and directed, "Very nice. Now let's see those tits."

A short silence was broken by another cluck, followed by "Now let's see that pussy that's been begging to be fucked by my big cock."

Another short silence and then, "Very pretty. I like them clean. Did you do that for me or are you always so naughty.

Her reply was almost so soft as to be nearly inaudible. "It's for you Mr. Handsome."

He laughed and said, "My name is Rick. Don't use that stupid nickname."

With an obvious smile in her voice she offered, "Whatever you want Rick, but it does fit you."

He laughed again and directed, "Come here and sit next to me."

I looked up at the mirror and saw my naked wife snuggled up against this stranger. Rick pulled her to his chest and found her lips. Her arms went around his neck and their tongues dueled for several minutes. He was in no hurry to consummate the arrangement. His hands caressed her throat and moved down to capture a breast. His lips followed his hand.