My Best Friend Regrets It Pt 05

I decided to leave the tattoo in place for right now. My hair grew very quickly, and I figured it would probably be covered up within three months. Maybe if Svetlana and I worked out, I would let her change Adrian's name on the tattoo, to hers.

When I got home, Svetlana was waiting for me. Her hair and makeup were perfect and she greeted me with a smile. She handed me an ice-cold Corona, and waited expectantly for me to drink it. Three Coronas later, I was feeling no pain, and Svetlana moved in for the kill.

"I have a surprise for you, baby," she teased, as I wondered what sexual delight she had in store for me.

As it turns out, my surprise was not sexual in nature, although it did evoke a very stirring physiological response from me. Ivan showed up at my doorstep moments later, and asked me to take a drive with him. It was with some trepidation that I got into his car, but Svetlana was with me, and Ivan was on my payroll, so my concerns were not for my wellbeing.

When we pulled into Adrian's driveway, I gave Ivan a confused look. He quickly took charge of the situation.

"You need to witness this, Chris," he said assertively. "Don't touch anything or say a anything. Your DNA is already all over the house, which is to be expected since you lived here for several months. However, you don't need to be seen at this time and place. I have disabled the exterior CCTV cameras and Adrian's home security system."

I nodded in affirmation, deciding to trust this guy's instincts, honed as they were through years of gangster affiliation. The three of us entered the house through the utility room. He left the lights off and a few moments later my eyes adjusted to the low level of illumination.

At this point, Ivan opened the plantation shutters that looked into the well-lit living room. Adrian was visible kneeling naked before two large men, both of whom were wearing ski-masks. Adrian had been severely beaten, blood and bruises evident across much of his torso as he writhed in pain. The three of us stood in silence as Adrian begged for his life.

Part of me wanted to stop it, but I was also transfixed by his abject misery and couldn't tear my eyes away from him. The thugs forced him to his feet, and judging by his cries of pain, he had suffered a few broken ribs, and maybe a fractured wrist. He was unusually compliant, but continued to beg for his punishment to end. I gave Svetlana a sideways glance and she had a satisfied smile on her face.

"Can I join in, Ivan?" she asked, in a whisper.

"Of course," Ivan responded. "It was my expectation that you both would want to get a pound of flesh. I just need you to mask up and wear latex gloves."

I signaled to Ivan that I just wanted to observe, and he nodded in understanding. Svetlana pulled on some latex gloves, pulled a ski-mask over her head, taking the time to conceal her hair, and strode into the living room with Ivan. By this time, the gangsters had Adrian bent over the large ottoman, and he continued to cry out in pain about his ribs.

I scanned the well-lit room, and immediately noticed the black strap-on and the rattan cane, lying on the coffee table, upon which he had taken Jaime's anal cherry. I wanted to go in there and tell Svetlana, but she is a very perceptive young lady, and she quietly asked Ivan to reposition Adrian on all fours, atop the low slung table.

As soon as the gangsters told Adrian to get up on the table, he realized what was about to happen and began to resist. One of the thugs hit him once, with what appeared to be a police issue baton. There was a sickening thud as the wooden truncheon made contact with Adrian's shoulder blade, and he let out a squeal of pain, and complied immediately. Svetlana strapped the harness around her pelvis and secured the strap-on into it, with an ominous click. Adrian seemed more fearful of being struck by the baton again, and remained compliant in the doggy-style position.

Svetlana applied a generous dollop of Vaseline to the end of the black phallus, and inserted one of her gloved hands into Adrian's rectum, in order to lubricate it. I wondered why she spared him the dry insertion of the strap-on, but she obviously knew what she was doing, so I left her to her own devices.

Moments later, as one of the thugs rested the baton across Adrian's upper back, as if to warn him of the consequences of any resistance, Svetlana slowly forced her way inside his muscular black ass. I couldn't see Adrian's face, but his back was very tense as Svetlana entered his anal passage. I think he decided to deal with the pain, being as it was the lesser of two evils, compared to the baton. Svetlana remained silent as she violated him, in contrast to the whooping and hollering noises she made when she fucked my ass.

I am assuming Adrian knew it was Svetlana behind him, but she had been instructed by Ivan not to add any evidential element to her presence and participation. I watched Svetlana brutally sodomize Adrian for over ten minutes before I had to turn away. His cries of anguish as he suffered this indignity were too much for me to process. Deep down, I knew he deserved it, but I felt like retribution was achieved, and the prolonged assault seemed unnecessary.

Svetlana fucked his ass until he wept and begged her to stop. I turned my head to continue watching his punishment. Finally, she gave Ivan a sideways glance, and he said something in Russian to the masked thug holding the baton on Adrian's upper back.

"Don't fucking move an inch," the gangster growled, in heavily accented English.

Adrian nodded his head to assert his understanding, and Svetlana un-clicked the strap-on from its harness, and stepped back from behind Adrian. This gave me an unobstructed view of my former tormentor, although he seemed fairly harmless crouching as he was on all fours, with a huge black phallus protruding from his anal passage. He was bleeding from his anus, although this appeared to be the least of his medical concerns.

"Lay on the table," the thug ordered.

Adrian lowered himself gingerly to the wooden surface, clearly nursing several fractures. Once he was prone, the gangster zip-tied his hands to the legs of the coffee table, rendering him immobile. I felt sick to my stomach as I tried to process the upcoming physical abuse he was about to be subjected to. He had endured a prolonged physical beating and a brutal anal assault. What the hell had they got planned for him that would now require him to be restrained?

I got my answer a few seconds later, as Ivan handed Svetlana the rattan cane. Svetlana turned towards me, waving the cane at me, as if to invite me to administer the next punishment. I shook my head, declining the opportunity to participate, as I had seen enough. Svetlana shrugged, and got into position at the foot of the table, resting the cane on Adrian's upper thighs.

Once again, after a nod from Ivan, the masked gangster spoke.

"You have atoned for taking Chris' anal cherry," he said, clearly struggling with his English. "Now you will pay for Sara's assault with the cane."

Adrian started to beg again, his cries falling on deaf ears, but seemingly exciting Svetlana. I wondered if she was going to thrash his ass, ridiculous as it looked with the huge phallus protruding from it, or focus on his upper thighs. That cane looked fearsome, capable of inflicting unfathomable pain. It had reduced Sara to a blubbering mess after four strokes. It had inspired enough fear in me to induce me to sacrifice my wife, choosing her to face Adrian's wrath, in my place. Now as Svetlana held it aloft, I could barely watch.

Svetlana seemed in her element tormenting Adrian, and mirroring his treatment of Sara, she began to trace the tip of the cane across his skin. However, this was not done to evoke any sexual response from him, the way Adrian had teased and aroused my wife. Rather, as the end of the rattan cane glided over his muscular buttocks, upper thighs, hamstrings, back of the knees, calves and finally ankles, Svetlana was merely telegraphing that which Adrian was dreading. She intended to whip his feet.

Svetlana ran the cane across the soles of Adrian's feet for several seconds, allowing him to process his impending thrashing. He tensed up as she removed the cane from his soles, his broad muscular back flexing, stirring memories for me of him being balls-deep in Svetlana in the pool house, as Sara ate his ass.

I heard the familiar swoosh of the cane descending rapidly towards its target, followed by the crack as it made contact with his skin. Adrian let out a blood-curdling cry as the cane hit him, and I felt sick to my stomach. I just wasn't cut out to witness this and ended up closing my eyes. Even without the visual component, the sounds of agony permeating the room, made me queasy. Adrian didn't have anyone looking out for him. No medical professional, periodically assessing his physical condition, to determine if it was safe to proceed. They could have beaten him to death, had they desired.

I stopped listening shortly after the sixth lash, retreating back to the corner of the utility room, where I closed my eyes and tried to block out his screams of agony. I had seen and heard enough, my retribution was complete. I had three girlfriends, almost three million dollars in the bank, and no bills. I needed to focus on my future and forget the past. However, I had to allow Svetlana to get her pound of flesh, so I waited silently in the dark, as she thrashed him until he went silent.

My first thought was that they had killed him. A wave of terror descended upon me as I contemplated prison time for being an accessory to murder. However, Svetlana entered the utility room, seconds later, and the look on her face made me realize that Adrian wasn't dead.

"Vasovagal syncope," Svetlana said as she removed her mask, a broad smile on her face.

My confused look triggered a fuller explanation from her, and as she expanded her description of what had occurred, I learned that Adrian had passed out from a combination of pain, fear and stress. Svetlana was giving me a medical diagnosis, albeit with the same detachment that she had detailed the failure of my penis to respond to her advances, after I had mixed alcohol and amyl nitrite. As she dispassionately detailed Adrian's predicament, she also began to unzip my jeans.

My first thought was that her arousal at Adrian's torture session was overwhelming her, and she wanted to fuck. However, once my jeans and underwear were around my ankles, she grabbed my cock and pulled me into the living room. It was a pretty gruesome sight. Adrian was unconscious, restrained over the low-slung coffee table. The black phallus was still wedged deep inside his anal passage, and his body was covered in cuts and bruises. It was with little satisfaction that I took in the scene, and when my eyes reached his feet, I reflexively put one hand over my mouth.

His feet were torn up from the savage thrashing Svetlana had administered, a bloody mess, the deep grooves in the flesh oozing bodily fluids. It looked like it would be weeks before he would walk again.

I was in shock as Svetlana guided me around his lifeless body. When we reached his head, she stopped moving and released my cock from her dainty hand. She snuggled in close to me, kissed my ear, and whispered softly into it.

"Do you need to take a piss, baby?"

I guess I was still in shock because I never responded to her. I did have three Coronas inside of me, and was actually ready to use the restroom. I remained passive as she took my flaccid cock between her thumb and forefinger, and pointed it in Adrian's direction.

"Please, baby, do it for me," she implored.

"He's unconscious Svetlana," I said in an effort to resist her.

As if on cue, Ivan re-entered the living room and threw a bucket of water over Adrian, which had the immediate effect of waking him up.

My autonomic nervous system did the rest for me, releasing the three beers from my bladder, as I watched on as a disinterested third party. I felt the relief that comes from emptying a full bladder, but it was Svetlana who was getting her jollies from it. She grabbed a fistful of Adrian's hair, and pulled his bruised and bloodied face up from the coffee table. Then she directed my urine stream onto Adrian's face, letting out a whoop of delight at his debasement. Once she deemed him sufficiently defiled, she adjusted her aim and I pissed all over his hair. There was no pleasure or satisfaction gleaned on my part, but Svetlana was loving every second of it.

Once my bladder was empty, Svetlana released my cock from her grip, and I pulled my clothes back on, and shuffled out of the room. I heard Adrian cry out again as Ivan threw another bucket of water on him. I knew urine is not considered an ideal source of DNA due to the low level of nucleated cells present, but the additional water had the added effect of further diluting this already unreliable source of evidence. I left the house in shock, and waited patiently in the car, for them to return.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Svetlana and Ivan joined me in the car. Ivan was cool as a cucumber, apparently no stranger to the occasional impromptu torture session. Svetlana, however, was in an elevated state of arousal, and wanted to fuck.

Ivan dropped us back to my house, and within minutes Svetlana and I were making love. I hadn't ever seen this side of her, she was completely immersed in our lovemaking, eyes glazed over as though she were high on ecstasy, able to achieve orgasm with the slightest of sexual stimulation. I watched in awe as Svetlana came half a dozen times before she crumbled in a heap, gasping for breath and asking me for some time to compose herself.

Several minutes later, with a huge grin on her face, she crawled over to me, her satisfaction written all over her face.

"That was amazing baby," she cooed, "both the sex and the revenge on Adrian. He won't be able to walk for weeks," she said proudly, "I fucked his feet up."

"Do you feel better now that you have evened the score, baby?" I asked her gently, as I slowly emerged from my state of shock.

"You have no idea," she responded.

"Why did you lube him up, Svetlana?" I asked. "That seemed like a merciful act, quite out of character."

"Not so," Svetlana corrected me. "No amount of brute force was going to wedge that huge black phallus through Adrian's virgin sphincter. I needed to get inside him before I could inflict any damage. That damage will be lasting," she assured me, "both the physical tearing of his rectum, and the psychological damage of being forcefully sodomized. You needed to get your revenge too, baby."

While the thought of retribution intrigued me, a more worrying notion crossed my mind. I felt like Adrian had paid his dues, and I had extracted revenge from Sara when I had allowed Adrian to punish her instead of me, for our mutual infraction. However, even though I loved Svetlana, she deserved punishment too, for the way she treated me over the months. I knew I had to suppress this desire, in order to have a sexual relationship with her. However, I vowed that if the opportunity arose to punish her, I would take it, albeit with anonymity.

Svetlana was completely satisfied but I still had a noticeable erection. Svetlana grabbed my cock, and moved closer to me.

"Are you ready for that blowjob yet?" she teased.

I shuffled uneasily as I felt my cock throb. I had never been offered sex so readily, by such a desirable young woman. I nodded my consent, and smiled at the thought of a no-strings attached blowjob.

"Great!" Svetlana said with an agreeable smile.

Then with an evil grin, she said "let's wake that little cocksucker Sara up."

Before I had a chance to stop Svetlana, she was in Sara's bedroom. She pulled Sara out of bed by her hair, and forced her to her knees in front of me. Sara looked very scared, as she knelt before me, and I didn't have the heart to make her suck me off.

"Svetlana," I said, "let her go back to bed. I don't want her to do anything against her will."

"The bitch is just paying her rent," Svetlana said dispassionately. "Are you okay with that, Sara?" Svetlana asked, turning her attention to my ex-wife.

Sara nodded her head agreeably, and told me, "I owe you Chris. I don't expect a free ride after the shit I pulled."

Sara reached her dainty manicured hand out, and stroked my cock through my jeans. My erection was clearly visible, straining against the denim fabric. As Sara continued with her over the pants handjob, I remembered how she had made two guys ejaculate in their underwear this way. Both the young, handsome college kid outside the bar, and John, the District Manager had come this way. I deserved more.

"Unzip me, Sara," I said, commandingly.

Sara scooted forward on her knees and slowly unfastened my jeans. My cock sprang out from the confines of my underwear. Pre-cum was visible pooling around my cock-head, as I processed the idea of a blowjob from Sara. I was married to this beautiful woman for fifteen years, and she had never sucked me off to completion.

Now, as she desperately needed a place to live, she did what she had to do. As Sara lowered her head submissively into my crotch, Svetlana and I began to kiss. It didn't take me long to orgasm, and as I ejaculated into Sara's mouth, I continued to kiss Svetlana. The whole power dynamic had changed in my favor, and while I had no desire to debase or humiliate Sara, I did expect her to pay rent. Sara seemed to accept the new dynamic between us, and remained on her knees until I left the room.

In the morning, Svetlana called me into the living room to watch something on tv. The local news were reporting a home invasion robbery, in which a local businessman was hospitalized for multiple bone fractures, and a torn rectum. It was assumed to be related to the criminal underworld, because the victim was tortured sexually for several hours, before having his feet brutally caned, neither of which were the typical acts of a burglar. That was the last time I heard about Adrian, and it felt cathartic to have his memory erased from my consciousness.

Three days later, I had our first house meeting. I didn't write an Agenda, as I wanted it to unfold naturally. I figured the house dynamic would work itself out over time, and I didn't need to assert myself over them, as overtly as Adrian had. I was very surprised when I entered the room, to see the three of them dressed in their respective High School cheerleader's uniforms, kneeling on their Sucky pillows, their heads bowed slightly, in submission to me.

I tried to act natural, but my heart was pounding, and my cock throbbed in my pants at this visual in front of me. My voice was shaky as I laid out the rules. I told them that Sara would get a place to live, and could continue to drive her Maserati, enjoy her extensive wardrobe, and not have to work. She could continue to earn her "egg privileges" and pay her rent, by giving me a monthly blowjob, in her schoolgirl uniform.

Stacey could share a room with Sara, and live here for the next six months, under the terms of Adrian's agreement. I would have full access to Stacey for any sexual purpose, at any time of day or night. However, I didn't want Stacey to initiate, propose or offer any sexual act to me. Stacey could decide at the end of her term, to stay or leave.

Svetlana was my girlfriend and was to be respected within the household. In my absence, she was in charge. Svetlana would drive the Bentley, and would share my room. The third bedroom, which I had already converted into a closet for Sara, would be used to store the girls' extensive clothing and shoe collection. In addition, I would convert the double garage into another huge closet, and storage area, for their possessions.