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Alpha Dog By: Naughty Nicole [email protected] *** Life was good. I was a few months of hard work away from making junior partner at the firm. My wife was beautiful, and we had decided to start trying to make a baby. Outside of work and marriage I spent my free time on my favorite activity: BJJ, or Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. I had been a pretty good wrestler in high school, and even though I'd gained a lot of weight since then, at five-nine and one-eighty, I was still quick, but the great thing about BJJ is that quickness isn't everything. Boxing and other striking arts are all about timing and reflexes. Brazilian Jiu-jitsu, or any kind of wrestling or grappling for that matter, slows down a fight just enough that it becomes a thinking-man's game. With the aid of a little adrenaline, time slows...you can weigh all of your options and, if you can think fast enough, make the best decision. Unfortunately, the white belt I was rolling around on the floor with wasn't thinking at all. "No," I scolded, "you need to keep your base spread out, or I'll just flip you over, like THIS," I punctuated as I reversed our positions. "Yes, sensei," the kid replied. "Okay," I continued, "keep working on it with your partner." I got to my feet and started walking around the mat watching each pair of students work on their body positioning. The small dojo had a musty, sweaty smell that I had grown to love over the last half-decade. I surveyed the students with pride; it was a great honor to be put in charge of this class. I turned my head to the sound of the door opening. A man had walked into the dojo and stood watching the sparring grapplers with interest. "Alright, guys," I shouted to the students, "wrap it up and start doing your abs... Scott, you can lead them," I said to the only yellow-belt in the room. I walked over to the man standing at the edge of the mat. "Can I help you?" I asked. He was a big man, about six-feet tall, two hundred pounds, and broad in the shoulders. He extended his hand in greeting and replied, "Hi, my name's Andre. I've been looking for a good BJJ school in this part of town, are you the owner?" "No, no," I replied, "Sensei Oliveira is actually down in Brazil taking a seminar from HIS master. I'm just one of his brown belts. He asked me to teach his noon beginner class while he's gone." "Ah," Andre replied with slight disappointment. "I wish I had time to talk to you a little about our school here," I continued, "but I've got to finish this class and then get back to my day-job. If you come back this evening then you could talk with one of the regular instructors." "That's too bad," Andre replied. He was wearing sweatpants and a t- shirt; it was obvious he had come prepared to work out. "So where's this 'day-job?'" he asked. "I work downtown...at one of the law firms," I volunteered reluctantly. This information seemed to perk the guy up. "Really?" he said with interest, "I'm actually going downtown right after this, could I give you a lift? Then you could pitch me this school of yours." I didn't know the guy, but one of the gifts that made me such a good lawyer was my ability to judge a person's character in a short amount of time. Andre seemed earnest enough, and besides that, in the sensei's absence it was my responsibility to be an ambassador for the school. "Sure," I agreed, "it'll be better than taking the subway. Just give me a few minutes." I finished up the class, changed into some jeans and a t-shirt, and locked up. Andre led me to his car, a small 4-wheel-drive pickup. As we drove back into town Andre asked a barrage of questions and I tried my best to articulate Sensei Oliveira's philosophy as I understood it. Before fifteen minutes had passed we were getting along quite well and the conversation had shifted to philosophy...specifically the role of men in our modern society. "A man's job isn't easy," Andre was saying. "Most married women think that their lug-headed husbands have nothing between their ears but a repository of sports statistics and action movie quotes, but while those women prattle on about 'Brangelina,' their man...if he's a REAL man, is making hundreds of subconscious decisions and calculations that keep her alive." I nodded my head in agreement, refreshed to hear this from someone else. I thought I was an anachronism, a remnant of an older society trapped in a world of 'men' that blog about their cats and do yoga for exercise. "When you sit down at your favorite restaurant," I added, "I'm spotting where all the exits are. I sit facing the front door, and what my wife thinks is a disinterest in her excitement over the most recent episode of Downton Abbey is my peripheral scanning of every person for a possible threat. When she complains that we stay up too late, I'm checking the locks on the doors. When she groans about how I take forever finding the perfect parking spot at the mall, I'm planning the fastest escape route. Most women don't appreciate what a real man does. Most women will never even know." "It's your job to let them know, Steve," he replied. "It's your job to let them know where they stand...to let them know that YOU are the man in your relationship, and what that entails." I must have had a perplexed look on my face. He chuckled and continued: "Here, man, come with me on a little errand I have to run before you get back to your day-job." He ended up driving to a building on the same block as where I worked. When we stepped off the elevator on the twenty-fourth floor I saw the huge letters behind the receptionist's desk: 'Goldman, Howard, and West' "Oh, shit," I whispered. GH&W were one of our firm's biggest competitors. I was walking into enemy territory. The receptionist looked up, but Andre just gave him a curt nod and said, "Hey, Ben, I'm just here to visit Erin real quick." The receptionist smiled familiarly and motioned us past with a nod. "Wait," I said as we walked past rows of cubicles reserved for the peons of the firm, "Erin?" I asked. "Yep," he replied. "...as in Erin Howards? As in Erin Howard, senior partner of Goldman, Howard, and West?" I was incredulous. "Yep," he replied again, smirking at my reaction, "She's one of my bitches. Why, do you know her?" I was blown away by this bold statement. '...ONE of his bitches?' Did I know her? I'd never met her, but I knew her reputation. 'The Iron Bitch of Weston Tower,' they called her. She was the youngest senior partner in her firm's history. Her corporate law skills were legendary, having single-handedly guided some of the biggest deals the city had seen in the last decade. At only thirty- four years old she had supposedly already brought in more revenue to GH&W than any three other partners in the firm's history. "No..." I replied at last, "I don't know her...not really." We walked past an empty secretary's desk and through a set of large wood double doors. Her office was impressive. It was a corner-office, thirty-feet square. Both exterior walls were made of twelve-foot floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city. The other walls were lined with hardwood shelves filled with various law books. The floors were made of the same hardwood, but a huge Persian rug covered all but a five-foot border around the edge. Three-quarters back from the door a large wood desk was centered on the rug. Two women were in the room. One was standing behind the desk and facing out the huge windows as she dictated to her secretary who was seated in a chair in front of the desk. The secretary was straight out of the 1950's - a buxom young woman with auburn hair held up with a pencil in the back. She was seated cross- legged in the leather chair, her pale green skirt hiking up her seamed- stockinged thighs. She furiously filled a pad of paper with short-hand as the other woman spoke. I couldn't believe that in today's world of smart phones and iPads a secretary in such a high position would use so archaic a technique. Much in-line with her "Mad Men" archetype, the secretary had a professionally demure demeanor that seemed to hide a bouncy little sexpot. ...or maybe that was just me projecting my own lustful preferences onto an innocent and hard-working girl. The woman standing behind the desk, who HAD to be Erin Howard, turned as she talked and that's when I finally really noticed her. Where the secretary looked like a pert, curvy roll-in-the hay, her boss looked statuesque. She wore a black, knee-length pencil-skirt and business jacket with an open white blouse underneath. Her dark brown, almost black, hair was cropped short and curled in just below her jawline. She was no more than five-foot six on her elegantly tall heels, but her powerful presence and cool manner made her seem unapproachably taller. Even completely clothed I could tell that she was athletic, with powerful legs and a muscular ass that would have lesser men crying for mercy beneath her. The comic book nerd in me immediately thought of Wonder Woman. As she talked she acknowledged Andre's presence with a slight lift of one eyebrow. What a woman of this caliber was doing with a Cro-Magnon like him was beyond my comprehension. Her secretary rose and turned towards the door as she finished dictating her letter. "Nancy," the dark-haired woman called after her assistant, "Hold all my calls until I let you know otherwise." "Yes, Miss Howard," the sweet little firecracker replied as she strode from the room. As she passed between me and Andre I had the urge to slap her cute, bouncing behind just to hear her startled squeal. Once the doors swung shut she looked us both up and down appraisingly. "Hello, Andre," she said warmly, her power-lawyer act partially melting away. "Who's your friend?" "Get over here and suck my cock," he told her without prelude. I chuckled uncomfortably at what I assumed to be some kind of crude joke. But she didn't hesitate for a second. She didn't even acknowledge me by glancing in my direction. She just walked around her desk, knelt in front of him on the rug, and reached down the front of his sweatpants to fish out his massive dick. It wasn't any more than ten seconds later that she was bobbing her head back and forth along his swollen shaft. My mouth hung open stupidly. I'm not easily unnerved, but my face flushed in that moment. "Fuck, Andre..." I stammered, "How about I step out for a second?" He held up his hand and said, "You're fine, Steve; this'll just take a minute.' He started to walk forward towards her desk and she scrambled backwards on her knees, never letting his movements break her fellating rhythm. He reached behind her and cleared her desk with the sweep of one arm, her laptop clattering to the floor. He gripped her upper-arms in his strong hands and lifted her to her feet, his hard cock bobbing free of her dark red lips with an audible pop. Then he shoved her backwards onto her desk. She propped herself up on her elbows with a hungry look in her eyes, unfazed by his forcefulness. He stepped closer, straddling her legs. He grabbed the lapels of her expensive suit jacket in both fists and violently ripped it apart along with the delicate silk blouse beneath. Buttons popped free and skipped across her wood desk as he forced the torn clothes down over her shoulders. I got a glimpse of her black lace bra for only an instant before he took a hold of it between her breasts and wrenched it from her chest. She let out a surprised gasp as her breasts bounced free and Mike straddled her higher around her midsection so that his cock rested in her cleavage. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face closer as he began thrusting against her chest. He rubbed his saliva-coated cock against her face, making a mess of her previously flawless makeup. "Jesus," I exhaled. Everything had taken less than a couple minutes. My face was still flushed - burning hot, and my dick was straining hard against my jeans. I knew I should leave, but I couldn't even look away. He roughly spun her around and pushed her shoulders down until she was bent over her desk; her ass was up in the air balanced on a pair of long, trembling legs and black heels. Andre shoved her knee-length skirt up to her waist and tore off her tiny thong with a snap. The ripping lace educed a startled, "Oh!" from her. Without pausing, Andre put one big hand over her mouth and grabbed her hip with the other and relentlessly pressed his shaft up inside her in one steady motion, her scream of pained rapture muffled by his palm. He started ramming into her, violently knocking over a desk lamp and a picture frame. It only took five or six strong, grunting thrusts before he was cumming inside her. He pulled his hand from her mouth, but she didn't move. Her eyes remained closed and she panted quietly -strewn across the top of her desk. He stayed deep in her pussy for another two full minutes. His semen dripped from where they were locked together forming a small wet stain in the rug between her spread heeled feet. I found myself trying so hard to be quiet and unnoticed that I spent much of this time unthinkingly holding my breath. Finally, Andre took a step back and a gush of his semen surged onto the floor when his big dick, no longer hard, slipped from her and swung free. "Clean me up, bitch." He said in a tone that was impossibly both loving and deriding. She spun around and dropped to her knees and started licking his sticky cock until it was clean. After half a minute he pulled up his sweatpants and said, "Give Steve your clothes." I almost jumped at the mention of my name, as if a character on a TV show I was watching suddenly turned towards the camera and addressed me by name. I cleared my throat to object to whatever Andre had meant, but I couldn't form the words. She stood and slid her skirt down her bare legs before stepping out of it. Then she shrugged out of her blouse and bra. She took the pile along with her discarded panties and spent the next minute neatly folding the articles of clothing and putting them into a small stack. Then she walked across the room towards me. Her hips swayed without inhibition as she approached me...in fact her demeanor held no hint of shame at all. She held her head high and proud and looked me in the eye as she almost strutted to me. A naked woman usually acted vulnerable in my presence...especially with the lights on, but it was as if I didn't offer her the least bit of threat as long as her man was there in the room. She stood in front of me holding out the small stack of neatly folded clothes until I dumbly took them, any objections dying in my throat. A barely perceptible smirk formed on her face in response to my clear discomfort at the situation. "He's embarrassed," she said without looking away from me. "Shut up, bitch. I didn't ask you to talk," Andre said calmly. "Is she right, Steve?" he asked me, "Does she make you embarrassed? I've seen it before, man. Erin's more woman than most guys can handle." I felt like an idiot as they both talked about me, but I couldn't think of a response that wouldn't make me sound even more insecure. "Here, buddy...let me help you feel more comfortable.... "Bitch - Sit!" he commanded, and she dropped to her knees in front of me, sitting on her heels. She looked up into my eyes with her mouth open wide, her tongue resting on her glossy lower lip. "D'you want her to suck you off, buddy?" he asked with a chuckle. Then he said, "Bitch - Down!" and she turned around and stretched out on the floor in front of me on her stomach; her ass was raised in the air and gyrating in a slow circle. Despite her vulnerable prostration, she was looking over her shoulder at me with that same piercing, shameless smirk. "Or maybe," Andre gestured towards the prone woman, "you'd like to stick your prick up her ass." My mouth was bone-dry and my cock was throbbing against my pants, but somehow, standing there fully-clothed between the spread legs of this beautiful, writhing, naked woman laying on the floor at my feet...somehow I felt like I was the one that was exposed. All the eloquence I could muster was a shocked, whispered, "F-fuck." "Just kidding, Steve." He chuckled again. "That ass belongs to me." He snapped his finger and Erin got up off the floor and walked back behind her desk to straighten up. Andre took the clothes out of my hands and said, "Let's go, man," but before he reached the door he turned to Erin and said, "I want dinner at 7 o'clock sharp, bitch; make something good." She lovingly blew him a kiss as she picked her phone up off the floor and dialed her personal assistant. On our way out I could hear Erin making arrangements to deal with her suddenly disrupted schedule: "Nancy, cancel my afternoon, and I'm going to need you to run a few errands for me. Once through her office doors I heard the other side of the conversation: "Yes, Miss Howard. Of course Miss Howard...your gray Ralph Lauren suit? Yes, Miss Howard." As we walked towards the elevator, I felt a strong desire to make some kind of comment, but everything I thought of saying sounded idiotic. Andre reached into an empty cubicle as we passed and tossed the folded stack of Erin's clothes into a trashcan - yet another act that confounded me. He didn't want or need her clothes for anything. He just wanted her to strip down. For what? For me? To prove something to me? To prove something to her? The elevator doors closed on the two of us, and the silent proximity was more awkward than I could bear any longer. "What the fuck was that?" I asked, half laughing at some imagined absurd joke. "What?" he replied, seeming to genuinely wonder what I was talking about. "Oh, Erin? Yeah, she's a fine piece of ass. I try to drop a load in her whenever I'm near this part of town. She's raising one of my sons, so I try to keep in touch on a regular basis." Nothing he had said helped me to better navigate the Twilight Zone alternate reality that I was now inhabiting. "Jesus, man," I exhaled...finally starting to relax and laugh at what I was hearing. "You're un-fucking-believable." We were walking through the ground-floor lobby now. "Shit, Steve, I'm sure you keep your bitches in line too." 'Bitches?' I thought. Again he used the plural. My wife knew that I was the one and only man of the house, but when I tried to imagine her reaction to being treated the way I just saw Andre treat Erin I shook my head. "My wife? Fuck...sure she plays the housewife: cooks and cleans for me, but, nothing like that S&M shit." Andre raised an eyebrow at that. "'S&M shit?' No, man...the way I treat my bitches... It's no fetish. It's not some kind of kinky role-playing. No, once they understand their place, it becomes more comfortable for them....more natural. Our world's hard enough without having to scrape and struggle for your place at the table. For some bitches, it's better to know you're on bottom than it is for them to struggle for the top. You know?" "I guess," I replied half-heartedly. "Look," he continued, "I know it's hard to understand for guys like us. We can't get into that submissive mindset. We live our lives at the head of the pack - leaders. It's like we were talking about on the ride over here. You have to let them know you're the man. Anyway...look, man, I got to get going. I'm meeting a bitch for a drink tonight, you should bring your woman along. I promise not to do anything too 'shocking.'" He was giving me a hard time for acting like I was appalled at his behavior. The truth was that I had always seen women the same way that Andre did: bitches that needed to be told. I just restrained myself, choosing to stay within the margins of acceptable cultural behavior. Here was a guy that actually acted the way we both thought. He was somehow demonstrating a level of masculine integrity, and in a way that I had trouble putting my finger on: I admired the guy. Against my better judgment I heard myself reply with a, "Yeah, sure. Give me a call." The images of Andre and Erin were flooding into every other thought I had as I walked back to my building. I was carrying my gym bag in front of my crotch to hide my still-aching erection, and I detoured into the parking garage. Once I was in my car, in that dark isolated corner of the garage, I pulled out my cock and started masturbating furiously. It only took a few minutes before I ejaculated into my gym towel. I was gasping afterwards. I quickly looked around. There was no one there; I was alone. I hadn't done anything like that since I was a reckless, horny adolescent. I looked at my watch and realized I was already going to be late getting back to work. The rest of the day I was distracted at my desk. The image of such a proud powerful woman as Erin Howard dropping to her knees kept flashing in my mind. I tried to think of something else, but then I'd suddenly see Erin sprawled out on the floor in front of me, her ass rocking in a slow circle, looking over her shoulder with a derisive smile on her face. I called my wife, Kelly, to let her know we were going out that night, and, good little woman that she is, she told me she'd get dressed and stop by my office at the end of the day. Once work hours were over I changed out of my suit and into the same pair of jeans from before, a pair of Italian loafers, and a collared shirt. Kelly walked into my office. A cheerleader in high school, she was short and athletic. Her small five-foot four-inch frame was accentuated by the curve of her hips and C-cup tits. Tonight she had worn a light sundress and her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a simple pony tail. "So who's this we're meeting tonight?" she asked after initial pleasantries. "Just a guy I met today. He's thinking about starting up classes at the BJJ school." She seemed puzzled, and I couldn't think of a way to explain that there had been a bond between Andre and I. A brotherly connection between men that I didn't think existed in today's age...something from the days of warrior-gentlemen. I also couldn't think of a way to explain the things I had seen in Erin Howard's office that afternoon...best to change the subject: "So is tonight the night?" I asked. Having recently decided to try and conceive we were on stand-by for her next day of ovulation. She blushed at the question, and playfully batted me away. "No, Mister Randy-pants...I'll definitely let you know when." We arrived at the bar Andre had suggested to us just after sunset. It was a nicer bar in the historic section of town where white-collar drones could let off steam after a day of crunching numbers and pushing paper. I didn't see Andre anywhere, so we claimed a booth off to one side. An old-school jukebox was blaring classic rock for the happy hour crowd. After ordering drinks I saw Andre walking towards us. He was still wearing his sweatpants and t-shirt from earlier...I guess he didn't feel the need to dress for the occasion. After introducing him to Kelly I asked where Erin was. I was a little anxious to face her again after this afternoon. "Erin?" he said, "She's at home cooking dinner. My date's right here," and she walked up to our table. It was Nancy - Erin's 1950's sexpot secretary. She was wearing a black, sleeveless, form-fitting dress that came down to mid-thigh and black patent-leather heels. It was the kind of get-up you'd expect a sorority-girl to wear to a dance club, except that the seamed stockings she wore made her look more like a high-priced hooker. "Oh, uh..nice to meet you." Kelly said, more than a little disapproving of Nancy's attire. After the initial awkwardness they ordered their drinks and we started talking. Nancy and Kelly actually hit it off well despite Kelly's initial impression, and Andre and I picked up where we had left off that afternoon. Andre was surprisingly respectful and appropriate throughout our conversations. Gone was the expletive language from before, and he left Kelly no hint of the man that was capable of doing what I had seen earlier in the day. I excused myself to use the restroom, leaving the three of them chatting away. I was washing my hands afterwards when I looked up with surprise. In the mirror I saw Nancy standing a few feet behind me. Confused, I turned to face her. She put her hands on my chest feeling me through the shirt. "That's a pretty cute wife you've got out there, Steve. You better watch out she doesn't end up one of Andre's bitches." Despite her words, her close proximity was making me hard. "Nancy," I spoke firmly, "You shouldn't be in here. "Andre's told me all about you," she purred, "...how you're just like him - an alpha." She palmed my erection through the front of my jeans. "Come on, big boy...Let's see what you're made of." "Nancy..." I began. She took a step back, pulled the hem of her dress up to her narrow waist, and pealed her skimpy black panties down her stockinged legs before stepping out of them. She stood and stuffed the panties into my shirt pocket where they hung out like a flag. "You get to keep my panties, a little trophy to remember me by. Call them the spoils of conquest." Her body was amazing. Not the trim athletic body of a gym-going modern woman, but a page right out of a 1950s pin-up calendar. Her narrow waist and the swell of her full, naked hips and thighs was framed between her hiked-up dress and black garter-less stocking tops, her soft alabaster skin seeming to glow in the dim lighting. She grabbed my shirt collar and backed into the open stall behind her before leaning against the wall in a pose that deserved to be on the nose of a B-17. She had my fly undone and my throbbing cock in her hand before I could even think about the ramifications of what was going on. She spun around to face away from me, putting her hands against the wall, and pushing that gloriously perfect ass towards me before urgently pleading: "Spank it, baby. Spank my ass and shove that dick inside me." I unthinkingly put my palm on the cool, soft flesh of her naked hip. Suddenly I heard Andre's voice as he came into the bathroom. "Hey, Steve, you in here?" I scrambled to put my hard-on away and quickly get out of the stall as Nancy pulled down her dress. Her face bore no surprise at being caught...in fact she still looked as randy as ever. She strutted out of the stall and we both stood in front of Andre as he shook his head - not mad at us, but disappointed. "Nancy, Nancy, Nancy," he scolded," ...always testing my limits, bitch." "Yeah?" she returned defiantly, "and what are you going to do about it, baby?" She spoke the words with a hungry look in her eyes. "You know what I'm going to do, bitch," Andre replied, "I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you silly. And by the time I'm done I'm going to have fucked your bitch-ass back in line." This answer seemed to be exactly what Nancy wanted to hear, as she licked her lips and pulled her dress back up over her hips before turning around to bend over the toilet. It quickly occurred to me that it was her intention all along to get caught by Andre. She didn't want to fuck me, she got her kicks being fucked as some sort of discipline - some kind of reminder of her place in the order of things. As Andre started to pull out his hardening cock and stepped into the stall behind her, he spared me a look to say, "I'll be out in minute, buddy," before turning his attention to the pale, round ass waiting for him." I walked out just as Nancy's rapturous moans began to echo through the bathroom. Out in the bar's back hallway, Nancy's ecstasy was drowned out by the jukebox. I took a moment to collect myself before returning to the booth, first making sure my erection had subsided and then taking the panties hanging out my shirt pocket and shoving them into the front pocket of my jeans. It took several minutes before I felt confident enough to face Kelly. She was still demurely sipping on her Long Island iced tea when I got back to the table. "Are you okay?" she asked, "You look a little flushed." Before I could reply, Andre was there next to me saying, "Hey, Steve, could I talk to you in private real quick?" Thankful to be out of that sticky situation I followed Andre back through the hallway and out the exit into the cool night of the alley behind the bar. "What's up, Andre?" I asked, curious why we were out here. He turned and took a moment to form his thoughts before speaking, each word carefully chosen and spoken with hard candor. "I want to be clear: I don't blame Nancy for her behavior in the men's room back there. She's just a horny bitch that'll take cock where she can get it." I stood silently. "YOU, on the other hand... I really thought that we could be friends, Steve. I thought that we could respect each others' property...you with your one bitch, and me with all mine, but it's clear that you can't do that, so I'm afraid I'm going to need to put you in your place." I was about to laugh it off, but I could sense the tension ratcheting up. He wasn't joking; he wanted to fight. He came at me much faster than I was expecting, and I crouched to receive his attack - too late. He shot beneath my guard and tossed me onto my back landing atop me. After another quick maneuver he was resting his full weight on my chest and I was pinned to the ground and having trouble getting a breath. For just a moment his weight shifted and I took the opportunity to try and roll out from under him, but it was a trap. As soon as I spun to get away he dropped his weight back down on me and I was pressed face- down against the ground. He quickly snaked his hand under my arm to grab my wrist, and leveraged it behind my back. My shoulder was screaming with pain. I knew I needed to spin in the direction of the restrained arm, but as I planted my other hand to roll, he anticipated and did the same arm-lock on the other arm. My face was pressed down against the pavement with both hands wrenched painfully up behind my back - almost up to the level of my shoulder- blades. I felt a moment of dread: I couldn't think of a single counter-move to this position, and for a brief moment I lost my cool to a claustrophobic animal panic. My body convulsed in instinctive desperation, but my efforts were for naught. All my training had proved useless. He had me pinned. I tried to scissor my legs out from under him, but the strain was too much on my shoulders to change position. He had such overwhelming leverage on my arms that he was able to control them with one hand by gripping both my pinkies in a single tight fist. The only way I could get out was to voluntarily break a finger. He pressed his body down against my hips forcing them flat against the ground. I didn't understand why he would shift his weight when he already had me in a double arm lock. That's when I felt it. What I had thought was his hip-bone pressing against my backside was a slowly stiffening erection. "What the fuck?!" I protested in disgust. With his free hand he grabbed the back of my jeans. I hadn't worn a belt, and he painfully yanked on my jeans with such a fierce strength that the brass button popped off my fly. He jerked both the jeans and my boxers down to my thighs in one swift motion. I couldn't believe this was happening. "You fucking pervert, get the fuck off of meeEEAAAAH!" I screamed as he wrenched on my arms. He pulled down his sweats and I could feel the hot meat of his freed erection as it smacked down on my left ass cheek. He centered his hips so that his shaft was nestled in my sweaty ass crack. I started to buck my hips and tried wriggling my legs to get his weight off. He pressed his hips down against mine, forcing my shriveled, naked cock flat against the cold pavement. Then he finally spoke: "You squirm that ass away again, bitch, and I'll shove my dick right up inside it to hold you still." "That's right, Steve. I'm NOT gonna fuck you - even though I could and there's nothing that you could do to stop it." He started grinding his thick cock against my ass crack. "I just -MMM- can't have you acting with -MMM- with so much disrespect, buddy. You're a good -UNNH - guy and I enjoy your company, but you -MMM- really need to be put in your place. This -UNFF- only take a couple minutes as long as you don't fight it." "...and like I said," he paused, putting a hard, steady pressure against my ass with the underside of his rigid shaft, "If you DO decide to fight it then I'll just have to go ahead and pop your cherry and shoot a load up your ass to make things crystal clear for you." His words sent an icy chill through my gut as I realized that he could whatever he wanted to - I couldn't stop him. I froze. "Atta girl, he chuckled," and then he started dry-humping my naked ass again. What had started out as anger and outrage had balled into an icy fear, and as the brute started to grunt with each forceful thrust against my bare naked ass, that fear melted into helplessness under the heat of burning shame. His cock must have been dribbling pre-cum, because his 'dry' humping soon turned slippery, "That's it, bitch," he growled between panting breaths, "Don't move...don't...FFFFuuuuck!" I could feel the hot jets of semen shoot across my ass and onto my back; then he ground his erection hard between my cheeks with a forceful shudder and I felt the rest of his load ooze out and form a creamy, puddle between my ass cheeks and his hard cock. We were frozen like that for a minute before Andre's breathing slowed. "Okay, Steve...I know you're thinkin' that you're gonna get me back." He said, "That you're gonna 'kick my ass' or some shit...that's okay. You've been the big stud in your little world for so long I expect I might have to put you in your place like I just did two or three more times before you're totally broken...and that's fine too...but let me be clear: "You decided to waltz into MY world and fuck with MY stuff: so be it. You WILL be broken. If you won't get with the program and acknowledge that I'm the alpha around here then I'll have no problems making you one of my bitches." He got up off me and I tried to scramble to my feet, but the jeans around my thighs hobbled me and I fell on my face again, to the to Andre's amusement. "Yep," he said as he walked to the bar's back door, "You've got spirit...This'll definitely take more than one session." And with that he passed back into the bar. I laid there for a second, then remembering the panties in my pocket I pulled them out and used them to wipe some of the semen off my back. They were too skimpy to soak up more than a quarter of Andre's load and I had to consign myself to pulling my clothes back in place over the sticky mess. Without a belt I couldn't keep up my jeans now that the top button was missing. I just untucked my shirt to cover it up. I called Kelly on my cell phone and told her to meet me at the car. I explained that I was needed back at the office right away. On the way over, Kelly told me how much fun she had, and how nice Andre and Nancy seemed despite her somewhat promiscuous choice in clothing. I nodded dumbly, unable to reply. The rest of the night went without incident except for having to sit in cum-dampened underwear as I drove home. I kept what had happened to myself, vowing to avoid Andre if I ever saw him again. A few times over the next few days she asked me about Andre or Nancy, but I just brushed it off, and said that we probably weren't going to be hanging out again. About a week later I had just helped hammer together a contract proposal that beat out the counter-bid from GH&W. The big man pulled the eight of us on the legal team into his office for a big pat on the back, and my pending junior partnership was hinted at once again. On my way back to my office I noticed that I had missed a call from Kelly while I was toasting to our success, and I check the voice-mail. "Hi, honey," she said in the message, "I hope your big meeting went well. I ran into Andre today at the grocery store..." My heart stopped. "He was super-sweet and he said that he didn't have anything going on tonight, so I invited him and his date over got dinner. I guess he's not with Nancy any more so he's bringing that Erin woman you were talking about...the one that's a lawyer in the other firm. Anyway, I told them that dinner would be at seven but they could stop by as early as six if they wanted to..." I checked the time on my phone; I had stayed late; it was five-thirty. My left the rest of my work undone, and bolted for the elevator. I nearly wrecked twice on the way home as I tried to drive and call my wife. She never answered. My heart was hammering in my ears as my house came into view, and as I pulled into the driveway I saw Andre's truck parked comfortably in my space in the garage. As I strode to my front door I pulled off my tie and stuffed it in my pocket. I didn't want something for him to grab onto in case things got physical. I crossed the threshold wired for action. "Kelly?" I called out. "In here, Steve," Andre's voice called from the kitchen. I nearly jogged down the hall. What I saw was a scene that would be fitting for a pair of couples who were friends having dinner together. Erin was at the kitchen's breakfast bar, legs crossed, dangling a shoe off one toe and holding a glass of red wine. My wife was over the stove stirring something in a pan and laughing at something that had just been said. She took the wooden spoon she was stirring with and let Andre, who was standing behind her, take a taste. "Hey, pal," Andre greeted me cheerfully. My jaw clenched in rage. "Kelly," I motioned for her to meet me in the living room. Kelly looked at Andre with comical bafflement, as if to say 'what's HIS problem?' Andre shrugged. I paced on the carpet in front of the couch trying to keep myself under control. Kelly came in wiping her hands on her apron with a puzzled look on her face. "What's wrong honey?" she asked, finally seeing the dark mood I was in. "Oh no...did your contract meeting go sour?" I held up my hand to cut her off. I pointed towards the kitchen. "That...that...person..." "What's going on in here?" Andre walked in with a jovial manner. Kelly, still confused, sat on the couch. "YOU!" I nearly shouted. "What the FUCK....How can you..." I was so filled with rage I couldn't form a coherent sentence. "Easy, Steve, you're scaring Kelly," Andre said as he walked over to where Kelly was sitting and put a hand on her shoulder. I went through the roof. "Get your fucking hands off of her, Andre!" I snarled through gritted teeth as I crossed the room and grabbed his wrist forcefully away from her. He twisted easily out of my wrist-lock and tried to grab at my legs, but I threw my hips back to keep them out of reach. This time would be different. I wouldn't underestimate him. I was ready. He was still struggling to grab my legs and I grabbed him in a bear hug and threw him down on his back. Kelly was shocked at the sudden violence. "Steve! Stop this, both of you!" she shrieked. Erin casually leaned against the arm of the couch as if she were watching the fight on TV. Before he could get up off his back I jumped down on him with all my weight. I straddled his chest and as he reached up to push me off I grabbed his arm and started twist into an arm-bar. ...but it was a trap. As soon as I gripped his arm, he thrust his hips off the floor, throwing me face-first onto the carpet. I scrambled to twist around, but he was on me in a heartbeat, and even though I knew what was coming, I still couldn't stop him from getting the same behind-the-back double arm-lock he had the last time we fought. "You better not let me out of this, fucker!" I raged, "because as soon as you do I'm gonna kick your fucking ass!" Kelly was standing above us, pulling on Andre's arm and pleading, "Let him go, Andre! That's enough!" With a single hand completely restraining me he used his other hand to shove her towards the sofa so that she stumbled backwards and sat down with a yelp. Erin sat down next to her and put her hands on her arms in a consoling caress that also gently kept her seated. "You fucker!" I yelled, " Don't you lay a fucking finger on herrrreeeeAAAH!!" He had really cranked on my arms hard popping the knuckles in the pinkies he was gripping. "Shhhhhh," he hushed in my ear, "that's it, Steve. Just relax." He slid his hand up under the back of my suit jacket and gripped the back of my belt. Even though the belt was buckled he yanked my slacks down with such force that they were around my thighs after a couple hard tugs. Then he grabbed my boxers, and in a single jerk ripped them off my body leaving my ass exposed beneath him. No, no , no...my mind raced in a panic. Not again...not here...not in front of her. I glanced at my wife; her mouth was hanging open in an expression of shocked confusion. "W-wait....what..." she mumbled. Erin held her hand and stroked her hair as she stared - unable to take her eyes off what was unfolding on her living room floor. "It's okay, baby," Andre said to my wife, "I'm not gonna hurt him. I warned him about this once before, but he wouldn't listen, so now I've gotta put him in his place again. I'm thinkin' that maybe if I do it in front of you we can finally make some progress with this attitude of his." He pulled down his sweatpants and immediately pressed the shaft of his cock between my ass cheeks. It was as hard and hot as a steel poker and he started grinding it back and forth against my naked ass. Being mounted like this in front of my wife left me feeling broken. My curses and threats died in my throat as I quietly accepted that I couldn't do anything. Andre was grunting with each thrust now. The only other sound was the sloppy noise his pre-cum-slick cock made between my ass cheeks. I had my face buried in the carpet, but Andre grabbed my hair with his free hand and jerked my head around to face Kelly. She was covering her mouth with trembling hands, her teary eyes peering out over her manicured fingernails. "Oh, Steve," she gasped through her fingers, "...oh...oh, God, Steve" "I'm close, Steve," Andre growled, "Press your ass back against me." "Fuck you, Andre!" I protested through gritted teeth.. "Do it now, Steve, or I'll fuck your ass right here in front of her." My wife audibly gasped at that. I closed my eyes and arched my back, lifting my hips off the floor. My cock was hanging small and limp beneath me; and it started to swing from Andre's thrusting until it was slapping quietly against my stomach. "That's it, bitch!" he snarled, "Give me that ass!" He let go of my hair and I buried my face in the carpet again. He slapped my ass before roughly grabbing a hip and pulling me forcefully against a final hard cock-grind that sent jets of his hot semen shooting across my ass and back. I could feel the warm wetness spread in a few spots on the back of my shirt, ruining the expensive Egyptian cotton garment. After half a minute, Andre got up off me, but I was frozen in place. I even kept my ass arched up in the air, feeling like any movement would draw more attention to me. As if all eyes weren't already on the spectacle of my submission. "You fucking animal! What have you done?" Kelly cried out finally finding her voice. She stayed on the couch, appalled at what she'd seen but also terrified of triggering some further indignity from Andre. I lowered my hips to the floor as Andre chuckled at the outburst. I turned my head to see him tying the drawstring on his sweatpants. "Are you gonna get me back, Kelly? Make me pay? Have me arrested, maybe?" Andre smirked. "You're God-damn right, you bastard!" He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Do you want me to call 9-1-1?" he asked, looking up at my wife, "I won't run. I can wait here until the cops arrive, and then you can explain to them exactly what happened." My wife's expression of outrage softened slightly at his words. I could see that she was thinking about what he had just said. She made eye-contact with me for the first time in several minutes. I was just laying there prone on the carpet, my slacks around my thighs and a trickle of warm semen running down the crack of my bare ass and along the back of my balls. She quickly flushed in shame and looked down at the floor. "J-just go," she whispered. "What was that?" Andre prompted "Please," she begged quietly, her eyes still on the floor, "Please, go." "Sure, Kelly," he said gently as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "but first you need to let Stephanie up." He placed one foot on the small of my back. "Tell her to get up...say, 'Get up, bitch.' Then I'll leave." With her gaze still locked on the carpet between her toes she quietly repeated the words, but Andre's foot didn't move, still holding me to the floor. "Come on, Kelly. You're a REAL woman - a creature of great power. Tell this weak bitch to get up like you really mean it." She lifted her gaze to me and her defeated face twisted in barely noticeable revulsion. Then, with a hiss of disgust she firmly said: "Get up, bitch." Then she looked away, but not in shame this time, more like restrained contempt. Andre lifted his foot and bellowed, "You hear that, bitch? Your woman's let you up off the floor." And with that he turned and walked out the door with Erin on his arm. The house was chillingly quiet. Kelly's arms were crossed in front of her and she was glaring out a window. I slowly reached down and unbuckled my belt so that I could pull up my pants. "Kelly..." I started. "Shut up," she snarled back with tears in her eyes. In addition to my burning shame I now felt shocked and confused, "Wait," I said as I slid my pants up over my ass, "You're mad at ME? Kelly I didn't do any-" "You didn't do anything! That's exactly right, STEPHANIE! You just laid there like a fucking virgin bride!" I got to my knees and pulled up my zipper. "Woah, hold on just a fucking minute here," I protested, starting to feel my anger and trying to find my manhood as another man's cum dripped from my balls. My authoritarian tone awoke a fury in my sweet wife like I'd never seen. She came to her feet and in two steps was slapping me across the face so hard I lost my balance and sat down on my heels. "Don't you raise your voice to me...not ever!" she shouted down to me from atop her high heels. Then she strode from the room, but before rounding the corner she added," You can get up now, bitch." I slept on the couch that night, unable to bring myself to face my wife again. The next morning I awoke to the sounds and smells of sausage, bacon, and eggs cooking. I walked dazedly to the kitchen to find Kelly there working hard to make a huge home-cooked meal. She noticed me in the doorway from the living room and immediately walked to me, burying her face in my chest and wrapping her arms around me. "I-I'm so sorry, Steve. I don't know what else to say." The smell of her soft shampooed hair beneath my chin felt more like a homecoming than any big breakfast possibly could. I returned the hug, kissing the top of her head. "It's okay, sweetheart. It was definitely an unusual situation." She pulled back from me to meet my eyes. "What do you want to do?" she asked, "Should we call the police? That animal, should be locked away." I immediately felt a knot in my stomach at her question. I absolutely did not want a permanent record of what had happened last night. She waited for my answer but turned her head noticing that the bacon was smoking, and quickly walked back to turn on the fan over the stove. "Well?" she asked again as she tended to the bacon. "I," I hesitated, "Let's just move forward, Kelly. No real harm was done, and we can just avoid that asshole from now on." She looked up at me for a moment. "Okay, Steve...I'll support whatever decision you make. Sit down, breakfast's ready." That day at work I could get absolutely nothing done. My mind was completely occupied, and I welcomed the end of the day, and the prospect of going to my advanced Jiu-jitsu class. The eight o'clock class was for brown-belts and above. That evening three other brown belts and two black belts had showed up, but, even though I was just a brown belt I was a madman, dominating everyone I rolled with. "Take it easy, Steve," one of the blackbelts told me, "We're not going full-speed here...just ninety-percent. You can injure someone with these throws." I dialed it back a notch, but I still felt better once the class was over. After class I changed out of my gi into gym shorts and a t- shirt. I checked my phone on my way to the car. There were two messages. One from my wife and one from Andre. I had the same sinking feeling I had from the night before. I listened to the message from my wife: "Uh...hi, honey," she started, "I know we talked about avoiding Andre, but I ran into him at the grocery store again, and... Well, we started talking, and, first of all, right off he was apologetic, so... Look, Steve, I know we said we'd avoid him, but after talking with him a bit I feel like it's just wrong to not address this head-on...as adults. I told him that you'd be home around eight so he should come by around nine. That way, if you completely disagree with me we still have time to cancel the whole thing. I love you sweetie, I hope things are going well." It was already nine o'clock. She had forgotten about my BJJ class tonight. Andre would be at my house any minute. I quickly got the car started and headed home before listening to Andre's message: "Hey, buddy, hope things are going well." The friendly tone of his voice made my blood boil. "I just met your sweet little honey-pot wife at the grocery store. Well...I wouldn't say I MET her there...more like FOLLOWED her there. I put out my best olive-branch and she wants me to come by your house tonight at nine. If I remember correctly, you'll be getting out of your BJJ class around then, so I guess I'll see you closer to nine-thirty. Anyway, pal, I just wanted to let you know up front that I've decided that I'm gonna take everything that's yours and make it mine, starting with that fine ass your wife has." Any remnants of hope that remained for a positive resolution to all of this vanished as an icy ball formed in my gut. "Yeah...I'll see if I can teach her some new stuff. We're gonna play a little game; it's called 'Andre Says. So, anyway, buddy, I just wanted to let you know that you don't really need to come home tonight; you're not welcome. There's only enough room in my little pack for one man, so feel free to just start over with a new life somewhere else. "On the other hand, I've always got room for more bitches, so if you decide that you're going to come home anyway, you better be wearing some little pink panties when you walk through the door or you're probably gonna regret it. Alright, pal, take it easy." I jammed my foot down on the accelerator and got my car up over one hundred miles per hour. I was home eighteen minutes later and almost drove through the front door as I skidded into a flower bed. I left the engine running and leapt from the car, bounding up the front patio stairs and through the unlocked door. I never saw it coming. Andre was waiting next to the door, and for the third time in a week he subdued me in the exact same arm-lock. He held his hand over me mouth while his other hand held my pinkies up behind my shoulder-blades. "Shhhh. He whispered into my ear. If you struggle or make a noise I'll rape you in front of your wife and then rape your wife in front of you. Got it?" I nodded. "Here," he said to someone else in the room, "just hold his pinkies like this and there's not much he can do." "Like this?" I heard Erin Howard say behind me, and she took my pinkies from him and firmly held them in one hand. I tried to suddenly rip free of her grasp, but even though I was stronger than her she just had too much leverage on me. "Hey, enough of that, bitch," Erin said. "You heard what Andre said...you make noise and all kinds of bad things will start to happen." Andre started walking up the stairs. "Now if you don't mind," Andre said as he started walking up the stairs, "I was in the middle of working out all these issues with my new bitch...oh...sorry, I meant 'your wife.'" With that he disappeared up the stairs. "Let me go, Erin, I don't want to have to get violent with you, butYEAARGH!" She had cranked hard on my arms the way Andre had before. My shoulders were screaming. "You think YOU'RE the alpha bitch around here?" she spoke in my ear, "Let me tell you something, STEPHANIE...you keep thinking you're a man, but you're not. In fact, you're far from being a REAL man. "Andre...MY man...now THAT is a real man. If he wanted to spend his Sunday afternoon drinking beer and getting his cock sucked on the front lawn, the only two questions I'd have for him would be what kind of beer he wanted and where he wanted me to kneel in the grass. "'Why?' You might ask. Why would someone of my reputation and education debase myself for a thug like Andre? It's easy: Because. The cock. Is. That. Good." "Don't worry, you'll learn soon enough. Your wife is learning right now. She was faithful to you, I have no doubt, but she's never had Andre...and there's no going back after that glorious deep dicking. She'll convert....He'll make her his bitch, and I DO mean 'bitch' in every sense of the word. You see, Andre likes to have his newly broken bitches give him a little gesture of their complete submission...to show him that there's no confusion about their role in this relationship. He'll give your wife a little taste of that big, beautiful cock...then when she's just starting to understand what it is that Andre's been blessed with, he'll stop... "First, he'll make your wife ask for it... "Then he'll make your wife beg for it... "Then he'll tell her the only way he's going to put that big cock back inside her wet, sloppy cunt is if she gets on her hands and knees, wags her happy ass back and forth and barks like a horny little bitch." "Bullshit," I spat. She chuckled in my ear. "Let's go find out, shall we?" She led me upstairs and down the hall until we were right next to the closed door of Kelly and my bedroom. As we had walked I kept feeling something hard against my backside, and when I craned my head over my shoulder I saw that she was sporting a rubber strap-on dildo. "You like that, slut?" Erin whispered, "Don't worry, we won't be using it unless Andre tells me too, and that might never happen. In fact, I'll tell you what, if we don't hear barking in the next five minutes, I'll let you go." Five minutes she said, but I needed to figure out how to get out of Erin's grip NOW. I knew I could rely on my wife's faithfulness, but who knew what that scumbag, Andre, would do to her against her will. Our bedroom sounded quiet. I knew that Kelly would scream for me if Andre tried to force himself on her, but I had no idea what they could be doing in the meantime...talking? In any event I needed to figure out how to escape this hold. If I could just- My body went rigid at the sound I heard coming from my bedroom. It sounded like high-pitched squeaks. Or... ...barking...a small dog barking. Erin started quietly laughing behind me and I felt like I had been doused in ice-water. "Bullshit," I whispered through trembling lips. My eyes blurred as they filled with tears. "Let's go," Erin said, "Let's see if it's bullshit." She man-handled me to the door and pushed me through. The barking sound had stopped but was replaced by a moan as I watched what I thought impossible a minute before: Kelly was completely nude on our bed. She was stretched out on her stomach - her bare, pale ass raised up off the sheets as Andre knelt behind her and slowly pushed his thick cock into her pussy. Her face was a mix of shock and ecstasy; her mouth hung open slack as her moan continued until Andre had pulled her hips against his. Andre pulled back and then slid back in again, getting into a nice slow rhythm before looking up to see me. "Hey, girls," he said to Erin and I. I was still too overcome with what was in front of me to respond, but Erin answered for both of us: "Hey, baby." He looked at me. "Hey, Stephanie, guess where I'm gonna shoot my load?" he asked me. My wife was in a rapturous daze, and she thought the question was meant for her, "Wherever you want! Wherever you want! Give it to me, Andre! I need your cum!" Her ranting made a fool of me for the countless time this week. Andre grabbed one of his socks near the bottom of the bed and crammed it into Kelly's mouth hard. "Shut up, bitch, I wasn't talking to you!" Her eyes remained closed as she moaned around the dirty wad. Andre turned back to me saying, "Maybe you don't wanna guess - fine I'll tell you. My new bitch here tells me that she's ovulating so I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. "I'm gonna plant a little Andre in your wife's belly, and the two of you bitches can raise him for me." He said it with a casual calmness that belied the complete pleasure he was dealing my wife with his slow deep-dicking. "I...I..." I had no answer. "Bring that speechless little bitch over here," Andre ordered. Gripping my pinkies, Erin walked me over towards the bed. "Do you still want to fight this, Steve?" he asked, "Do you actually still think there's a chance you could come out of this as THE MAN? Really?" I finally found my voice: "F-fuck you, Andre." That brought a smile to his face. "Maybe later, you horny slut...right now I'm a little busy fucking my new bitch. Unless..." he paused while still lazily thrusting into Kelly. "Unless you still think this is YOUR bitch. Hmmm? Let's find out, Steve. Why don't you tell her to stop." It felt hopeless, but I heard myself try none-the-less: "Kelly... Kelly, please," I begged lamely. Her eyes flicked in my direction but her expression didn't change: her mouth held wide by the sock stuffed in it - moaning; her ass still arched up to meet Andre's plunging cock. "Kelly," I continued, "for God's sake...please, stop this." She ignored me. Andre laughed. "Okay, Steve...you've had a try, now let's see if she listens to someone else." Andre gave Erin a look and she, moved me in front of my wife's face. "Suck it, bitch!" Andre ordered, and my wife spat out the sock in her mouth, yanked down the front of my shorts and underwear, and took my limp cock whole in her slobbering, moaning lips; Andre kept fucking her from behind. "Kelly, don't!" I pleaded, but she was deaf to my words. I tried to back away, but Kelly grabbed me by the balls, pulled me back against the edge of the bed, and closed her lips around me. She had never taken me into her mouth so hungrily, and despite my unwillingness it was only a few moments before I was swelling inside her warm, wet mouth. As my shaft grew I again tried to get her to listen. "Kelly...oh...God..." It felt amazing, "Kelly, please." I tried backing away again, stretching my scrotum against her grip. "Let me get this straight," Erin said behind me as she held me in place. "You apparently DON'T want your pathetic little cock in your own wife's mouth?" "That's the thing, Erin," Andre replied, still thrusting into Kelly's pussy. "Kelly's no longer Steve's wife...and I'll prove it to you now to remove any lingering doubt." He looked at me and said, "This is the last time you'll have your cock inside any of MY bitches, so enjoy these last few seconds." I looked down at Kelly as she ravenously bobbed her head along my swollen shaft - my heart sank. "That's enough sucking, bitch," Andre bellowed; Kelly let go of my balls, and my wet cock slipped from her lips. The elastic of my shorts and underwear snapped back into place when she let them go, my erection tenting the front. "Well," Andre said, "I guess it's clear she's my bitch now, but what about you?" He looked at me with a thoughtful expression feigning concern. "If you're not the big man here then what are you? What's left? What do you think, Erin?" "Maybe she's one of your bitches," Erin offered. Andre seemed pleased with her answer. "Fuck you, Andre," I said. "Uh oh," he replied with sarcasm, "apparently you're a bitch that still needs to be broken. But I'm a little busy breaking in THIS bitch," their little dialogue was so staged it almost seemed rehearsed, and Erin replied right on cue with the enthusiasm of a peppy cheerleader: "Maybe I can break her in for you, Andre," and she turned me to face the wall next to the headboard. "Fuck you, Andre," I cursed again, but Erin had total physical control of me. "Don't worry, Stephanie," he replied, "You'll get your chance. Once Kelly here's pregnant with little Andre Junior then I can use your tight little ass until she squeezes out my pup, and who knows...if she has a girl we can put her up for adoption and try again...then I'll need your tight bitch-ass for another nine months." I fought as Erin forced me up against the wall, and Andre held up a hand as if to stop her for a moment. She held me there. "Okay, Stephanie, I can see that you still have some final reserve of resistance left - some shred of hope and defiance hidden way down inside. Let's see if we can clear that up real quick." He grabbed a fistful of my wife's hair and jerked her head around to face me before speaking to me. "Look at my bitch, Stephanie," He punctuated the word 'bitch' with a hard slap across her bare, curved ass eliciting from her a squeaking yelp. "Do you still love her?" His question was more malicious that any insult imaginable. I didn't want to play his cruel game, didn't want to answer, but I knew that any escape possible was only through him, so I nodded my head in confirmation as tears once again filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks. "It's okay, baby," he said to me soothingly. "Let's see how SHE feels about YOU. I'll let her make the decision. If she wants me to leave, I'll walk out the door and never come back." My heart rose. Was he serious? Would he really leave? He had been cruel, but so far he had at least kept his word. Once we were free would Kelly and I ever be able to move past tonight? That was a much more difficult question...one that could be dealt with once this was all over. "Sound good, Stephanie? Can we both trust her to make the right decision?" I nodded silently but eagerly. "Okay, let's find out..." Then he looked down at my wife, whom he was still fucking. Suddenly he pulled out of her completely, and a panic spread across my wife's face like a scuba diver that's just run out of air. "W-Wuh." Was all she could manage at first followed by, "Wait!...Please!" but Andre held her down on the bed. She was arching her ass into the air and begging as if she had never heard the word "pride" in her life. Her shameful display dropped me from my hope-filled heights like a trap-door...but I hadn't hit rock-bottom yet. That came next. My frantic wife suddenly looked like she had remembered something important - something that would help her with her desperate problem. Then she started wagging her ass back and forth and I heard her start to make a noise; it was a noise that I had heard from the hallway, but SEEING it...seeing her like this, brought home the full weight of her act of submission. With me, her husband