The Spa

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The Spa

Looking back now it is unclear how I got into this situation. Life was good an unexpected inheritance had left us more than comfortable. family life was good and I even persuaded my lovely wife to adorn herself with stockings for some of our fairly average lovemaking sessions. In between these increasingly rare occurrences I took to surfing the net, nothing too outrageous, mainly so called hot wives and their exploits. At times I would fantasize about my own wife taking part, thoughts quickly erased, not because she is not hot, but more a mum and homemaker.
During one such visit to the net something caught my eye, a Spa location with extras and a challenge. It contained a boast that the services they provide could turn any wife into the ultimate sex hungry hot wife. There would be a fee but fully refundable. All I had to do was book a spa weekend for my wife and they would do the rest.
What was I thinking, I booked on line, and quickly received a reply outlining the terms and conditions. As you would expect it contained a full disclaimer and set a three month money back guarantee if I was not satisfied. The key was I did not have to be there and would not be involved, that never has been a particular fantasy. It is just that exciting knot in the stomach, the little risk of being caught; I convinced myself just a little voyeuristic fun.
My wife was as you would expect very grateful to the point of stockings later that evening. She would attend Friday and stay the weekend. I was promised email updates as to the progress.
Friday afternoon she left looking forward to a relaxing weekend; I had second thoughts and tried unsuccessfully to stop her going. She told me not to be silly it was a wonderful gift.
I had been assured that nothing would be forced and everything would be consensual. It was a long afternoon. She called to confirm arrival and tell me how much she loved me, her room was fantastic. She had to go as she had her initial session to plan the weekend. Time dragged, I must have checked the computer a hundred times. At last about 6pm an email pinged in. It was brief, identifying a good first session with interesting results and that things looked promising for an easy quick process. There was an audio attachment.
I opened it, the contents were a discussion between a well spoken male and my wife. Initially it was standard health and fitness. The male then invited my wife to lie on a couch, Sara queried this, he assured her it was standard and he merely wished to question her further about her needs for the weekend. I listened as he clearly employed a hypnotic technique.

There was a clear change in tone in both his and Sara’s voice. His questions became more intimate talking about her sex life and it appears lack of satisfaction. He probed her desires and fantasies. She talked of being controlled and having her boundaries tested. She wanted to be used and taken to the limit. I was shocked to hear that one of her deepest desires was to be a plaything for black men. Following this she was brought out of that hypnotic state and the tape finished with the interviewer confirming the spa programme for the following day. The tape ended, I was shocked but somehow aroused, the trusted twist in the stomach had replaced anxiety, what would tomorrow bring.

Saturday dawned. I was busy, not so busy as to not be distracted by Sara and her weekend. She called late afternoon. She had enjoyed swimming, the exercise room, and a number of relaxing therapies. There was an evening meal and entertainment laid on, she was glad she had taken her party frock. She was looking forward to seeing me on Sunday evening. I told her I loved her before she hung up the phone to get ready.

I went out Saturday evening, needed company and a few beers. I was still a mixture of regret and knotted excitement as I returned home. I was hoping for more news. There was nothing, it was just short of midnight. I made a coffee and sat trying to watch the late film. I must have drifted off. I awoke mouth dry and neck aching. The film had finished the clock showed 2am. I checked the computer; there was an email from the spa with an attachment. I needed a drink; I made it and sat down. The email read, ‘Evening update from dinner dance’ I noticed this was a video audio attachment, I double clicked, and the footage flickered into view. It showed the interior of an ornate but modern hotel function room. It was busy with groups of men and women sat around tables. These circled an empty dance floor. As the camera slowly zoomed in I could see people were eating. All of a sudden Sara came into view; she looked gorgeous in her black party dress, partly sheer and suitably revealing her cleavage. She was flanked by two men both wearing dinner suits. One was white aged in his late fifties, he looked very distinguished. Sitting the other side of her was a very well built and very dark skinned black male; he was probably a little younger than the other male.

The camera continued to zoom in and focus on this table, the remainder of which was a mixture of men and women. Once the zoom stopped the sound became clear, I immediately recognised the white male as the voice from the earlier audio recording. The talk was small talk about interests and life’s experiences. The screen blanked and then came back to life. This time the meal was clearly over, the camera angle had changed to show Sara still between the two males, her stocking clad legs clearly on view. The Black Male stood and held out his hand to her and led her onto the dance floor. They danced to a song talking at various points; it was disco song so there was little contact. The film continued showing short clips of Sara sitting, drinking and talking with the males and also dancing with them.

The inevitable slow started, it was clear by this stage that Sara was intoxicated a little unsteady on her feet and increasingly giggly with the attentions of the two men. I could see this was going only one way, what made it worse was this was clearly a recording and events were no doubt far in advance of this. I could not understand why I was still watching but I was and full of anticipation. The men took turns to smooch and take more liberties with hands wandering to reveal thigh above stockings and more bodily contact, suddenly half way through a song the older white male took Sara by the hand and led her from the dance floor. The film ended. It was now 2am, it was all too much I felt nervous but my mouth was dry with excitement. I wanted more, there was no more. I made a drink and settled back down surely they would send more. I did not care about the challenge anymore, I tried convincing myself it was Sara’s safety I was concerned about, the ache in my groin said otherwise. I must have dropped off to sleep.

I awoke it was morning. Still no email. The morning dragged. At about 11am the phone rang. It was Sara, she was very up beat. Told me she had been swimming and had a sauna. She would be home late afternoon. I asked her how the evening had gone. Nothing special she said. Just a boring meal and a couple of drinks, she had gone to bed early. She thanked me again for letting her go and told me she loved me. She arrived home at 5pm. She looked good in fact positively glowing. She told me her version of the weekend. I had erased all emails and footage. We turned in early but to sleep the weekend had sapped her energy.

Finally on Monday morning I received an email, it claimed full success with the challenge proof of which would follow later. It continued that as per the small print my wife would soon receive a complimentary all expenses paid membership to the Spa. In order to keep it valid she would have to do at least one overnight stay each month the first of which would be the following weekend. I realised how deep I had got in, I thought about it and tried to convince myself she would not go.

The week continued as per any other week, little chance of sex, life back in the routine. I arrived home from work on Wednesday to a very excited wife, she told me about her new membership and how much she wanted to use it, she begged me to let her go, how could I refuse. We made love that night, was it me or did things feel different.

Friday evening she set off full of smiles for her first complimentary weekend. Almost as son as she left and email with an attachment arrived from the Spa. The email simply read ‘The proof you have been waiting for’. I didn’t open straight away, I was tingling all over. I got myself a large scotch and settled down, it was autumn so dark outside. I pulled the curtains and opened the attachment. The screen flickered and the media player opened. It showed the inside of a plush bedroom well lit, the door at the far end of the room opened and the distinguished male entered leading my wife, it was as if they had just left the dance floor. He closed the door and turned, he embraced Sara and kissed her passionately on the lips, she returned the kiss without resistance. He reached around and slowly pulled down the zip on the back of her dress allowing it to drop to the floor. She continued the kiss now wearing just black bra, panties and suspender belt, her legs adorned with seamed black stockings. He continued to work mouths locked, he unclipped the bra and eased it from between them. He finally broke the kiss and planted gentle kisses don her neck before cupping a breast and pursing his lips around the rosy bulb of her erect nipple. He sucked causing her to whimper and throw her head back; he massaged the other breast, squeezing it with his large hands. She continued to take sharp intakes of breath as he licked and kissed her breasts. He returned to kiss her lips continuing with his hands on her breasts.

It was at this point I realised that the camera angle had been changing and the zoom was being used. It was very steady which suggested fixed cameras but with some kind of remote control. The male stepped back, Sara was in an almost trance like state looking longingly at the man in front of her. He unbuttoned the front of his trousers allowing them to fall to the ground, he ordered her to her n=knees, she complied. He told her in a strong authoritative voice to remove his underwear. As she did she gasped as his erect manhood came into view, it was enormous engorged and pointing straight at he face. Having stepped out of his briefs he told her she would come to worship him and do anything for him. She was transfixed starring with a combination of lust and fear, waiting for his next instruction. “Don’t just look at it suck it” he snapped, Sara had to open her mouth wide to accommodate its girth. She slowly went to work on the tip, gagging almost immediately as the tip filled her mouth. She continued to work her tongue circling the swollen end. This went on until he clearly wanted more. “Come on suck it like you mean it, I have not got all night” he ordered. She tried to take more but her gag reflex stopped her. I had to remind myself it was my beautiful wife I was watching, my arousal taking away thoughts of repulsion. On screen his patience snapped, he grabbed her head and started a full on assault of her mouth and throat. She gagged and wretched, he withdrew covered in saliva and plunged back in, each time a little further. This continued, tears running down her face, but also a lust in her eyes a determination to fulfil the task. The camera angle constantly changed, giving different views of the action. He withdrew and slapped her several times with it wiping it clean on her face. He ordered her to her feet and took her to the bed. He told her to remove her panties and positioned her kneeling on all fours facing him. He resumed his penetration of her mouth. He held her head as he plunged in and out she looked completely helpless, but did not resist.

I pressed pause on the film, it was all too much. They say be careful what you wish for, this felt cowardly but so exciting. I did have some worry thinking back to that initial chat I had the recording for she said about wanting to be controlled; it appeared this was coming true. I wondered how much she was really aware of. It did not appear this week that she had tried to hide anything. I needed a break, another drink, the bathroom just a stretch.

A short while later back in position, I pressed play. He ordered her to finger herself. She supported herself on one hand and reached back, the camera remained fixed on her head and shoulders, it was just possible to see her breasts swaying with each thrust. There was a noise on the tape, it sounded like a door opening. Nothing changed visually. He was again becoming more verbal encouraging her to take more, referring to her as a married whore and slut. He took a break and told her to remove her hand; he again wiped himself all over her face and hair. She looked a mess but so sexy at the same time. Having allowed her to get her breath on he went still plunging deep into her throat, she appeared more comfortable now and opened nicely for him. There was an unexpected jolt and change of rhythm, she tried to resist but he held her tight. She appeared to be moving onto him harder and deeper. The camera panned out and the reason came into view. The Black male from the dance, now naked was ramming an equally gigantic pole into her from behind, each thrust pushing her deep onto the white male. She could not move between them, within minutes she writhed her way through an orgasm that racked her whole body, she would have screamed but for her throat being full. The men continued now chatting, discussing the possibilities for the new married whore and yet another idiot husband who allowed it to happen. They discussed parties, and all kinds of social events during which she would be used. They swapped ends; the male was even larger and started to test her throat again. They carried on merely using her, not communicating with her she was the ultimate pleasure tool. Eventually they stopped they made her kneel between and then with a combination of her sucking and her hands they exploded into her face, it just kept coming, in her eyes, her hair it dripped off of her chin. . They both used her like a rag to wipe themselves. They proceeded to get dressed; she just remained motionless waiting for the next instruction. The white male told her she was a good whore and he looked forward to the next weekend. He told her to shower and go to bed, when she awoke her dreams would have been good.

The film ended. A new email had arrived. At the moment the phone rang, it was Sara, very chirpy telling me she had arrived and was going to have her evening meal, I asked her to come home and forget the spa. She told me not to be daft she would see me Sunday. She hung up. The email outlined the future. Any attempt to stop Sara and she would be made aware I had arranged it and she would be shown the films. At present she is not fully aware of what was going on. It thanked me for delivering her and told me the next instalment would arrive for my pleasure the next day.

I could not wait.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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