Wife swapping attempt backfires as the victim is tricked.

I'm so frustrated. I tried wife-swapping after being introduced to it by someone, but I got scammed. I didn't get to play with other people's wives, and my own wife became someone else's plaything. It's a double loss.

Here's what happened: I used a secondary account to add a few netizens with similar interests on QQ, and they added me to some related chat groups. They asked what my shared interests were? Cuckolding, of course.

To be honest, through chatting, I don't think I'm a complete cuckold, because in my fantasies, I don't act like those cuckolds who grovel and serve. I tend to think it's forced. Although it's the same as when my wife is being fucked, both my wife and I are subjected to humiliation under duress and coercion; there's no element of consent.
In the past, the group discussions were usually about how to be cuckolded or be cuckolded. Sometimes we would fantasize about gang-raping one person's wife. The rules were that the person would give their wife's name, occupation, height, and other basic information, post a picture of her, and then everyone would discuss how to play with her. Usually, everyone had a lot of fun.

At first, I just watched silently. Later, succumbing to the encouragement of my friends in the group, I also posted my wife's information and photos. That time, my wife became the target of seven or eight men's abuse. Various forms of bondage, internal ejaculation, oral sex, and sadomasochism were rampant. Most of these people were complete strangers to me, whom I had never chatted with before. Yet, in every lewd and insulting message to my wife, they mentioned her name, as if they were actually venting their lust on her naked body in the real world!

While they were wantonly toying with my wife through words, they also frequently asked how I felt. I understood that this was the basic state of online BDSM, and I could only cooperate. But to be honest, I felt incredibly aroused. That strange sense of humiliation made my penis incredibly hard. Finally, I masturbated while breathing heavily. Afterwards, looking back at the chat logs, I felt a sense of lingering satisfaction.

This was how it all began. Later, I chatted more and more frequently in the group, engaging in online BDSM with others and being online BDSM myself, enjoying it immensely. One day, someone in the group suggested organizing a real-life wife-swapping event for people in the same city. To be honest, you can talk about anything online, but real-life wife-swapping is rarely easy to arrange. Such suggestions usually receive very little response, naturally because wives are often unwilling, so they almost never come to fruition.

However, surprisingly, this time six or seven people agreed. Some said they had been looking forward to wife-swapping for a long time, while others said they had done it before. These people quickly focused on me, saying that I was very active during the online discussions, and wondered if I would chicken out in real life. They bombarded me with messages on QQ for days. I was forced to blame my wife for my reluctance, but they said it was no problem; as long as I brought my wife, they would take care of everything.

Was it really that simple? I agreed almost impulsively, secretly curious to see what tricks these guys had up their sleeves to make my wife submit. Besides, I was also quite attracted to their wives. From the photos posted in the group chat, some of the guys' wives were young and beautiful, while others were mature and elegant—all my type.

We arranged a date: a Saturday afternoon in May, at a hotel in the suburbs. There would be seven couples, including me, booking seven rooms, with the men paying for their own rooms. One of them said the hotel was owned by a friend and there were no safety issues. I hesitated for a while, deciding to decline, but they all assured me not to worry. They said as long as I showed up with my wife on time, they would take care of everything in the hotel lobby.
Since that was the case, things became much easier for me. I told my wife there was a friend's gathering that weekend and invited her to come. My wife was a little curious because she hadn't heard of any of these friends. I said it was fine, they were all people I knew from work, and they all brought their wives. My wife smiled and said, "They're not your online friends, are they?"

She knew I often chatted online, but didn't interfere. However, she had no idea what I chatted about, and her casual question startled me. Seeing that she didn't seem serious, I relaxed and casually covered it up.

My wife's name is Zhu*hong. Although she's not young, she's a senior executive at a foreign company and takes care of herself and works out, so her skin and figure are quite good. Her looks are average, but she has a soft voice. Having been in management for a long time, she has a rather aloof personality.

On Saturday, she was dressed in denim: a light blue denim jacket over a white long-sleeved shirt, the shirt hem slightly longer than the jacket, showing at her waist; light blue skinny jeans with ripped knees, tied with a rhinestone belt; and white sneakers with laces. She looked capable and sexy, which is her usual attire for business trips, and I also like it when my wife dresses like this.
I drove, and following the navigation, I arrived at my destination in a little over an hour. It was an unremarkable little hotel, only four stories high, with a parking lot in the courtyard containing seven or eight scattered cars. After parking, I used my QQ to let them know I had arrived, and then my wife and I went into the hotel. There was no one else in the lobby except for one staff member. Zhu Hong looked around and asked softly, "Are you sure you're not mistaken? This place isn't much better than a private hotel."

As a senior executive of a foreign company, my wife usually stays in four-star or higher hotels for business trips; this place was utterly unacceptable to her. Just as I was wondering what to say, the elevator doors opened, and someone stepped out.

The man was probably in his early thirties, fairly good-looking, and rather thin. He was wearing a dark suit of an unknown brand. Seeing me looking lost, he rushed over to greet me, "Brother Li and Sister-in-law Li are here?"

Although we had been chatting enthusiastically in the group chat, it was all done through typing. They knew my surname was Li, but I only knew one or two of their surnames; none of us knew each other's full names. As for the man in front of me, I didn't know which one he was from in the chat room, so I could only give a vague reply.

The man smiled and said, "Brother Li, you drove here, right? I can go to town to buy a case of beer for you. It'll only take about 20 minutes round trip, quick. Sister-in-law, sit on the sofa in the lobby."

Zhu*hong had originally wanted to come with us, but when I saw the man wink at me, I understood and said to my wife, "Wait for me a moment, I'll be right back with the beer."

My wife had been driving for over an hour and was feeling a bit tired, so she nodded and went to sit on the sofa on one side of the lobby. The man and I walked out.

As we stepped out of the hotel, the man introduced himself as surnamed Luo. I remembered a guy in our conversation who did claim to be surnamed Luo, but I couldn't recall his nickname and was too embarrassed to ask. He got into my car, and Luo gave me directions. The car made several turns, and a few minutes later we arrived at another hotel.

I was puzzled and asked, "What's going on?"

Luo smiled mysteriously and said it was all carefully arranged by them. At the previous hotel, someone would lure my wife upstairs to a room, and here, someone was waiting for me too.

After parking, Luo drove me to the hotel entrance, gave me a room key, and said, "This is my wife's name, surnamed Yang."

He patted me on the shoulder, turned, and walked away.

The plot was too abrupt; my mind went blank. I decided to stand at the hotel entrance and sort out my thoughts.

The current situation was this: according to Luo, someone would lure Zhu*hong to a room and use various methods to seduce my wife into bed, while I was in another hotel two or three kilometers away, about to have an intimate encounter with Luo's wife. This... wasn't bad! Wait, wait, what did I miss? Thinking about it again…
I've got it! Xiao Luo dropped me off here and then went back. He said someone might lure my wife into the room, which means it wasn't him. By the time he got back to the original hotel, my wife might already be in the room, or she might soon agree to sleep with someone. So, after that guy is with my wife, will Xiao Luo follow suit? That's right! There are at least two men there who could have slept with my wife, but here there's only Xiao Luo's wife. He didn't tell me where the other women's wives are!

Asking in the group chat? That would make me seem petty. I decided to ask Xiao Luo's wife directly, so I went straight into the hotel, took the elevator upstairs according to the room number on my room card, swiped my card to enter the room, and sure enough, there was a woman in the room.

This woman's photo hadn't appeared in the group chat before. She was quite tall, around 1.72 meters. Was she Xiao Luo's wife? Her age matched, she was in her early thirties, but she was at least several centimeters taller than Xiao Luo. Besides, her demeanor didn't seem like that of a local. But whatever, she was wearing tight blue jeans too.
You know, I can't control myself when I see women in jeans; it's a particular fetish of mine. When no one's home, I often masturbate while smelling my wife's worn jeans. I remember mentioning this in the group chat; I guess Xiao Luo deliberately had his wife dressed like this. It was

my first time swapping wives, and I was a little flustered. I wondered if I should chat with her to ease the slightly awkward atmosphere. But after chatting, I realized this Xiao Yang was indeed a half-baked local. At that point, I wasn't thinking about any of that anymore, not even what was happening to my wife. My only thought was how to get this woman surnamed Yang onto the bed, or at least let me touch her first.

Xiao Yang seemed to notice my expression, pointed to the bathroom, and said, "Why don't you take a shower first?"

I figured she was experienced, so I suggested we shower together. She thought about it and agreed. We undressed each other outside the bathroom. I was unbuckling her belt when her phone rang. She grabbed my hand, walked to the window, picked up the phone, whispered a few words, and hung up. She smiled apologetically and said another family had arrived, and she needed to play the role of tricking her wife away, just like Xiao Luo had done earlier. She said she'd be back soon and told me to finish showering and wait for her.

Oh, so someone else couldn't convince their wife either. I guess Xiao Yang brought her wife to this hotel this time. Great! I agreed without thinking. Xiao Yang kissed me, put on her shirt, tightened her belt, and left.

The next few hours, I quickly took a shower and lay on the big bed watching TV. While absentmindedly changing channels with the remote, I fantasized about what stage my wife was at. It had been about an hour since we separated. If all went well, she should already be obediently lying on the bed being penetrated by some unknown stranger…

When she learns the truth about the wife-swapping, will Zhu*hong resist? If she resists, will she be raped? Will these guys gang rape my wife? Will they use all the sadomasochistic methods they mentioned in the group chat on Zhu*hong?

In the group chat, they called out my wife's name, using words to vent their desires. And now, my wife, who has that name, is lying alive in front of them. They will definitely strip Zhu*hong naked, tie her up with ropes they've prepared beforehand, and use every humiliating method they can think of to conquer her!
Just thinking about it made me hard again. What should I do? Should I use imagined scenarios to solve this problem? What a waste! Xiao Yang should be back soon, but why hasn't she shown up yet?

Two and a half hours later, I finally realized something was wrong. I called my wife's cell phone; it rang, but no one answered. I asked on QQ, but no one replied.

I quickly got dressed and went downstairs. After inquiring, the young woman at the front desk replied indifferently that the woman surnamed Yang had already settled the room fee when she left, and I could check out tomorrow. As for other information, she couldn't tell me anything else.

A hotel of this caliber probably costs over a hundred yuan a night. I didn't care about that now. I hurriedly left the hotel, started the car, and used the navigation to get back to the hotel where my wife was staying. I found that all the cars that had been parked in the parking lot were gone. I asked at the front desk, and they told me that there were indeed a few people with Xiao Luo, but they were all men. Besides my wife and me, there wasn't a single other couple there. They had arrived at noon, but instead of booking seven rooms as agreed in the group chat, they had only booked two, and both rooms had already been checked out. Because there weren't many guests, the men said that some people were still resting, and they usually stayed a few hours longer before sending someone to clean.

I was stunned. The front desk also told me that shortly after I left, a man took my wife upstairs, and about two hours later, everyone else had driven away, but my wife hadn't come down.

Then, I received a QQ message: "We've left, your wife is still in the room."

It was Xiao Luo who sent it to me. I didn't have time to reply and quickly asked for the room number. I even thought the elevator was too slow, so I rushed up the stairs to the third floor. However, no matter how I knocked on the doors, neither room responded. I went back to the front desk to get the room key. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I politely declined the receptionist's offer to come upstairs with me. I went back upstairs. The first room was empty. I opened the second room next door. Before I even went in, I saw my wife's denim jacket, bra, and a sneaker lying haphazardly on the cheap carpet. I immediately felt something was wrong and quickly went in. The scene before me was indescribable.

No wonder no one answered the door when I knocked so hard. Zhu Hong was tied to the bed in a spread-eagle position, her wrists and ankles bound with thin hemp rope. There were no places to hang ropes at the four corners of the hotel bed, so the ropes, after securing my wife's hands and feet, went under the bed and came together at both ends near the floor. Tied so tightly to the bed, my wife couldn't even move, let alone get up to open the door. There was something stuffed in her mouth; I took a closer look and saw it was one of her white basketball socks, matching her white Nike sneakers. This explained why my wife didn't react to the knocking.

Zhu*hong was tied to the large bed face up. Her denim jacket was thrown on the floor, and the white shirt she had been wearing underneath was completely unbuttoned, exposing her entire chest. Her black bra had also been torn off and thrown on the floor, exposing her breasts to the air, especially her nipples, which were erect, presumably a physiological reaction caused by repeated pinching.

Her thighs were spread as wide as possible by the ropes, and there was even a pillow under her buttocks. Her black underwear and jeans were no longer in their original positions; only one pant leg was still on her left calf. Her right leg was completely naked, her sneakers were off, and her socks were in Zhu*hong's mouth, while her left shoe and socks were intact.

I stood directly opposite the bed, and from my perspective, with her legs spread and a pillow under her buttocks, my wife's genitals were clearly visible. It was a small pink vulva amidst a dark pubic area, and the vulva and its edges were covered in a thick, white liquid. This liquid had even dripped onto the pillow below, making a large wet patch! Taking a step closer, I noticed similar liquid on Zhu*hong's chest and face, and a trace of liquid was dripping from the corner of my wife's mouth, slowly spreading onto the sheets.

Of course, I knew what this liquid was, but the question was, how many men had ejaculated from her? In the past two hours, had Xiao Luo and his six buddies all had sex with my wife?

A large bath towel was placed over my wife's nose and above, effectively blindfolding her. The towel was so large that even if she turned her neck, she couldn't escape its coverage. Fortunately, her breathing was steady, indicating she hadn't been completely abused yet. I quickly went to the bedside, removed the towel, and pulled out the sock that was gagging her. My wife squinted, adjusting to the light, and then saw me, asking in surprise, "It's you?"

I noticed her voice was a little hoarse; I guessed she had cried out before the sock was stuffed into her mouth. Was it a cry for help during resistance or a moan during orgasm? These hotels are basically places for sex, with terrible soundproofing, but people in other rooms were used to it, since cries for help often turned into moans.

I frantically untied Zhu Hong's bonds. Her hands and feet were a bit constricted from being bound for so long, and they would only recover slowly. I picked up my wife's clothes from the ground; her bra felt sticky in my hand, so I quickly threw it away. With a bad feeling, I examined my wife's right sneaker closely. Sure enough, the inside of the sneaker was filthy from ejaculation.

These guys are just as perverted as they were in our chat! But, it seems I'm like that too! I've used my wife's old high heels, sneakers, and even her stockings to masturbate! These sneakers and stockings were new, and I hadn't even had a chance to use them yet, but they ended up in the hands of Xiao Luo and his gang.

Zhu Hong moved her limbs, regaining most of her mobility. Looking at herself, she pulled her underwear and jeans off her left leg, wiping away the fluids that had soaked her. As she carefully cleaned herself, I coughed softly.

After I entered the house, aside from my wife's earlier bewildered question about it being me, we remained silent in the awkward atmosphere. Hearing my cough, my wife paused, but with her intelligence, she understood what I meant. She whispered, "No problem, safe." I

immediately relaxed. What if something went wrong when Xiao Luo and his gang had sex with my wife without even using a condom? My wife paused, then added, "They asked me beforehand."

I felt a mix of emotions. It turned out my wife and those guys had a friendly "negotiation" before having sex! To be honest, I secretly admired these guys; they managed to persuade my wife to comply with their lewd behavior.

I saw my wife's phone lying on the bed. When I opened it, the recording was paused. Upon entering the video, I saw that someone was filming my wife while she was being intimate with him. The video started in the guest room, with a strange man in his twenties, tall and handsome, sitting on the edge of the bed with my wife. He had good taste in clothing.

He whispered something in my wife's ear, his hand slowly moving to her breast, carefully exploring through her shirt until he found her nipple. He then gently massaged it with his fingers. I saw my wife's expression change from initial hesitation to a flushed face, her breathing becoming rapid.

From the video angle, it was clear that someone else was filming with my wife's phone. How could my wife have given her phone to a stranger and allowed someone to film them while they were being intimate? None of that mattered anymore, because the young man in the video had already pushed my wife onto the bed, and his hand slowly slid between her legs, touching the area below the zipper of her jeans—what appeared to be her genitals.

I understood; this was the beginning. When this young man took my wife into a hotel room under some pretext, things were difficult to reverse. This was probably around the time I was chatting with Xiao Yang in another hotel room, trying to get closer to him. Judging from the process, the young man was quite shrewd, getting someone else's wife into bed much faster than I could. What happened afterward was perfectly logical.

Wait! Did I miss something? I was stood up by Xiao Yang, and my wife was being used. I guessed the beginning, but I never imagined this ending!

Later, I asked my wife why she obediently went into the guest room with the stranger. She said he told her the truth directly: it was a wife-swapping activity, and that he had already slept with someone else's wife. She was angry after hearing this, thinking I had intentionally put her in someone else's bed. Plus, seeing that the other person was a very handsome young man, she agreed in a fit of pique. The reason she handed her phone to another person present to film was because my wife thought she could control herself and stop herself in time if she acted a little recklessly. She wanted to record it as evidence to prevent me from overthinking.

Little did she know that when she handed over the initiative to the other person, she was also handing over her body. At that moment, she was completely led into an abyss of no return.

While watching my wife's video on her phone, I turned the volume down to the lowest setting. My wife was wiping her body with her underwear, instinctively with her back to me, so she didn't notice my actions. When I looked up and saw that she was almost done wiping, I suggested that she go to the bathroom to take a shower. By this time, my wife no longer cared about the hotel's low standard. After all, she had been forced to lie on the bed and have sex with someone for several hours in such a cheap hotel room, and it would be pretentious to feel dirty. So she went into the bathroom.

As I heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, I reopened the video. In it, the young man leaned down and kissed my wife, who was lying on her back on the bed. The camera zoomed in, and he was actually licking my wife's tightly closed lips with his tongue. His left elbow was supporting his half-reclining body on the bed, and his right hand continued to caress the crotch of my wife's jeans without stopping.

It was clear that although my wife was somewhat bewildered by his teasing, she still retained a sliver of rationality. Several times, she stopped the young man from unbuckling her belt. However, when the young man's tongue skillfully pried between her lips and teeth, my wife's defenses finally crumbled, and she extended her tongue to intertwine with his. Then, she was conquered by him, and the two began a passionate French kiss.

The young man in the video was clearly a master, his seductive skills were quite sophisticated. After a short while of French kissing, he leaned back, and my wife, feeling his tongue moving away, involuntarily followed him. As they sat up again, the young man used both hands to take off my wife's denim jacket. My wife seemed completely unaware, obediently raising her arms to let him take off her clothes. The young man seized the opportunity and unbuttoned my wife's shirt one button at a time. This time, my wife didn't resist, and the young man easily unbuttoned her shirt, even loosening her bra, revealing a pair of fair breasts...

I couldn't remember which one of the young man in the group he was, but I secretly admired his strategy of playing hard to get and maneuvering with ease.

The bra hung loosely beneath her breasts. The young man's right hand covered her bright red left breast. He massaged her breast with a rhythmic, controlled motion, gradually increasing the pressure and speed. He casually brushed his fingers across her nipple, this time without the shirt and bra in between. The sensation was so real, each touch sending a shiver through her body. She had already closed her eyes when she extended her tongue, silently enduring the stimulation without uttering a sound.

At this stage, the young man resumed his assault on her lower body. Under his guidance, she lay back down. His tongue left her lips and licked its way down to her right nipple. The tip of his tongue first circled the areola, then he skillfully sucked on her nipple with his lips.

Meanwhile, his right hand slid down to the buckle of my wife's belt, loosened it slightly, and then gently twisted the brass buckle on her jeans, leaving the front half exposed. As he slowly pulled the zipper all the way down, my wife's black underwear was revealed. Taking advantage of the opening, the young man's hand unhesitatingly slipped inside the bright red underwear. Through the underwear, I could clearly see his hand groping shamelessly. From the moment he took off her denim jacket to the

moment he reached into her underwear, my wife completely gave up resisting. She didn't even open her eyes, only her breathing became increasingly rapid, her chest heaving, causing her breasts to rise and fall.

The young man didn't slow down; he clearly wanted to finish in one go. Now he was focused on taking off my wife's jeans and underwear, but doing so would mean temporarily leaving my wife's body. Even a few seconds could allow her to regain her senses and cause him to fail. But this problem didn't stump him. He winked at the phone camera.

Then I saw the camera angle change, getting closer, and a hand appeared in the frame, grabbing one leg of Zhu*hong's jeans. The young man, also using both hands, grabbed the sides of my wife's jeans and pulled them down. With the help of the person filming, after several twists and turns, they pulled the jeans down to below my wife's knees.

The person filming then took off my wife's right sneaker, completely pulling the jeans leg off my wife's right leg. Seeing this, the young man, without hesitation, did the same, pulling my wife's underwear down to her ankles, and having the person filming remove it from my wife's right leg as well.

At this moment, my wife's lower body was almost completely naked, her not-so-thick pubic hair was fully exposed. The young man, no longer restrained, pulled hard, and the thin strap of the bra that had been loosely hanging below my wife's breasts snapped. The young man casually threw the bra away, and my wife's upper body was also completely exposed! In the video, my wife is wearing only a white shirt with her chest open, and her underwear and jeans are still on her left ankle. She is wearing a basketball sock on her right foot, but her sneakers are gone. Her left foot is still wearing both sneakers and socks. It would not be an exaggeration to say that she is practically naked!

The young man undressed my wife in about ten minutes. Of course, he wasn't going to stop there; his real purpose was to insert his penis into her vagina. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded with her eyes closed. He stood up, spread her legs, buried his head in her genitals, and began licking her vulva. He licked with great skill; my wife's breathing, which had been slowing, became rapid again, and her hands, which had been resting casually on the bed, gripped the sheets tightly. In the high-definition video, the knuckles of Zhu*hong's hands were slightly white from gripping so tightly.

This was just foreplay. After licking for a few minutes, the young man looked up, glanced at the camera, smiled mysteriously, and stood up to step aside. The person filming understood and approached, zooming in on my wife's inner thighs. The area where her pubic hair grew was incredibly wet, and streams of clear fluid were flowing continuously from her vagina!

From the beginning until now, the person filming, who had only exposed his arm to the camera, had remained silent. Suddenly, he exclaimed in surprise, "Damn! So much water?"

Judging from his voice, the filmer was quite young. Although he was talking to himself, his words reached my wife's ears. She seemed startled, opening her eyes and glancing down slightly to see someone filming with a phone. She immediately sat up as if electrocuted, panicking, "Why are you still filming? Turn it off!"
Apparently, after being groped all over with her eyes closed for so long, she had completely forgotten about being filmed! This clearly went against her original intention; she had wanted to prove her strong will, but instead, she had become evidence of being manipulated, which filled her with regret.

Seeing my wife reach for her underwear, before she could react further, the young man quickly moved closer, sucking on my wife's left nipple. His right hand reached towards my wife's genitals, inserting his index finger into her vaginal opening.

As the young man touched her all over, especially with one nimble finger pressing against her vagina, my wife's hard-won resistance vanished instantly. Instead, lust took over again. Her right hand, which was close to the young man's body, responded actively, reaching between his legs and through his pants to find his penis...

Then, my wife grabbed the young man's already erect penis and began to stroke it. At first, her movements were irregular, but later they became synchronized with the rhythm of the young man's finger going in and out of her vagina.
At this point, everyone knew things were about to fall into place. The young man stood up a second time, and this time he quickly pulled down his trousers and underwear, which fell to his feet. Due to the angle, I couldn't see the size of his penis, but I could see that he was still wearing his shirt, while his lower body was completely naked, revealing a rather firm buttock. I guessed that his lower body was also eager during the foreplay, and my wife's private parts were even more lubricated under the manipulation of his fingers. Therefore, the young man did not hesitate any longer. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and stuffed it under my wife's buttocks, then used his hands to clamp my wife's spread legs under his armpits, pressing his body as close as possible to the base of her red thighs. Then, with a thrust of his waist, without even aiming, he made direct contact with my wife's body.

Caught off guard, my wife let out a high-pitched scream. It was hard to tell if it was fear, excitement, or pain; a mix of emotions was clearly at play. After the first deep penetration, the young man paused slightly, seemingly adjusting the angle, before methodically beginning his piston-like movements. With each thrust, my wife would let out a loud "Ah!" which sounded like she was cheering him on, or perhaps like the scream of an opponent being brutally beaten on the ground.

This was the first time I'd ever heard my wife call out like that. No wonder her voice had become hoarse earlier. After two hours of calling out, it was a miracle she hadn't lost her voice. But from this angle, it was really disappointing...

Perhaps sensing my thoughts, the guy filming realized his angle wasn't ideal for onlookers, so he slowly moved, shifting the camera to the right side of the bed, focusing on my wife's body. The young man's right hand was still holding one of my wife's legs, but his left hand had released her other leg, freeing his palm to vigorously knead my wife's right breast. At the point where their bodies were joined, the young man's thick penis was constantly thrusting in and out of her bright red vulva. The pubic hair of both of them was mixed together, and the image of a third of his penis going in and out was clearly visible.

Twenty minutes—the video timer accurately told me that my wife had been relentlessly thrust into by this strange young man for twenty minutes. Then, the young man suddenly increased the frequency, thrusting fifteen or sixteen times in one go, followed by a "hey!" and his body began to tremble violently. A few seconds later, he deflated like a punctured balloon, becoming unsteady on his feet. He stepped back slightly, his penis leaving my wife's vagina. His once erect penis visibly softened, drooping limply. All of this signaled the end of their physical struggle; my strong-willed wife had been conquered. After

twenty minutes of this ordeal, although my wife was lying on the bed being penetrated, her screams had exhausted her. She didn't seem inclined to sit up, probably partly because she wanted to rest, and partly because she felt ashamed to have given herself to a complete stranger. She didn't want to look the young man in the eye for the moment. Looking back, my wife had been incredibly cooperative, even somewhat proactive. She clearly wanted to calm herself down before considering what to do next.

It turned out my wife was being a bit presumptuous. She wanted to calm herself down, but the young man didn't share that view. He pulled up his pants, suddenly climbed onto the bed, grabbed my wife by the back of her neck and the back of her legs, and lifted her up, laying her flat in the middle of the bed.

When they entered the guest room, the two sat side by side at the foot of the bed. The young man's teasing of my wife also happened at the foot of the bed; at that time, most of my wife's body was lying on the bed, but her legs were hanging off the edge, her feet touching the carpet. Later, when the young man lifted Zhu*hong's legs, he even dragged her body further off the edge. Now, after his lift and placement, my wife was lying in the middle of the bed.

Zhu Hong was a little puzzled and asked, "What else do you want to do?"

The young man smiled and said, "I like you so much, how about we play another game?"

"What game?" My wife asked, puzzled. She looked up at the person filming by the bedside. "Can you stop filming?"

"Who cares? I'll tell him to delete it later." The young man casually brushed it off. He grabbed my wife's arm with his right hand, got off the bed, bent down, and pulled a rope from under the bed with his left hand. He wrapped one end of the rope around my wife's right wrist several times and tied a knot.

While the young man was doing this, my wife did not resist. Instead, she let him tie her hand with the rope, watching the young man's every move with great interest.

It is said that women's orgasm points are different from men's. The young man ejaculated inside my wife, but she may not have reached a full orgasm yet. When she saw the young man take out a rope, she naturally guessed that he was probably going to play some kind of bondage game. Although she had never tried it, she had heard of it and was quite looking forward to the rest of the game.

Seeing that my wife didn't resist, the young man quickly tied her right hand with a thin rope, pulling it towards her upper right side. The rope was hooked on the corner of the headboard and extended under the bed. He then went to the other side of the bed, bent down, and pulled out the other end of the rope from under the bed, tightening it so that my wife's right arm was held straight by the rope. Then, the young man hooked this end of the rope on the corner of the headboard on that side, and then extended it down to wrap around my wife's left wrist several times until the rope was tight. My wife's left arm was also pulled to the left and back like her right arm. In this way, both of my wife's hands were effectively bound. The young man deliberately pulled on the rope to make sure it was secure. My wife couldn't break free by her own efforts, so he then turned to my wife's feet.

When he produced the thin hemp rope as if by magic, I understood why these people had arrived at noon. The rope was not conjured out of thin air, but prepared in advance. In order to save the young man time and energy to deal with my wife, these guys had threaded the rope under the bed from the beginning. When the time came, the young man only needed to find the two ends of the rope from the side of the bed.

They were so meticulous in their preparations. The rope, after passing under the bed and binding my wife's hands through the headboard, still had a long section left. The young man patiently pulled the rope over and wrapped it around my wife's right wrist, then tied the remaining length in a knot near the bed's underside. This method of binding clearly indicated that they had pre-calculated the width of the guest room bed.

With her hands bound, the legs were relatively simpler. The young man pulled another thin rope from under the bed and spread my wife's legs almost to the edge of the bed. He tied the ends of the rope to her ankles, and then connected them between her legs. When the young man tightened the rope binding my wife's legs, the angle of her thighs was firmly fixed. The rope extending outwards under the bed effectively prevented my wife from closing her legs, while the rope connecting inwards prevented her from moving either foot outwards. This method of binding left my wife's naked body in a very awkward position.

The young man finally tied the rope binding my wife under the edge of the bed and breathed a sigh of relief.
In the video, my wife looked quite unusual at this moment. Her upper body was still bare except for a white shirt that was open at the front, her chest and abdomen completely naked. The combination of her lower body was rather peculiar. The upper half of her long, fair left leg was completely naked, starting from her calf, where she was wearing underwear and one leg of jeans, with a thin hemp rope tightly binding her ankle. She was wearing sneakers and socks. Her equally alluring right leg was only covered by a white sneaker sock, and above that, apart from the rope around her ankle, she was completely naked.

Zhu*hong was bound naked to the bed, spread-eagled. Even more striking was the area between her wide-open thighs, soaked with a mixture of my wife's bodily fluids and the young man's semen. Some of the fluids were even stuck to my wife's pubic hair, creating the illusion of tiny white flowers growing among the pubic hair. The scene was incredibly sexy; any man witnessing it would involuntarily feel his blood boil, and I was no exception. The only thing that troubled me was that this naked woman bound to the bed was my wife, and the man beneath her, wantonly playing with and thrusting into her, was a complete stranger whose name I didn't know.

The young man picked up a pillow and placed it under my wife's buttocks, which surprised me. I could understand him binding Zhu*hong to the bed and subjecting her to humiliation, wax dripping, whipping, breast torture, and itching; I wouldn't even be surprised if he used a vibrator for genital torture. But why would he need to elevate my wife's genitals? Did this young man have such good stamina that he wanted to have sex twice in such a short time?

Not only me, but my wife was also staring wide-eyed at the young man. Although he was almost ten years younger than her, she couldn't believe he was already ready for action so quickly.

The next scene left me speechless, my jaw nearly dropping to the floor, and I almost dropped my phone. The young man waved at the camera, got off the bed, and took the phone from the person filming. The screen flipped wildly, and when it stabilized, a strange figure was approaching the bed.
Are you kidding me?! Now the young man had replaced the person filming, pointing the phone at my wife on the bed, while the person filming was appearing in the frame for the first time. What was he doing at the bedside?

From the back, this person was very thin, wearing a tracksuit and trendy red sneakers. He seemed much younger than the young man from before… Wait, that tracksuit is eye-catching! Is it a high school or vocational school uniform? This person is clearly a student!

My wife noticed this too. She tried to break free of the ropes binding her hands and feet and shouted, "What's going on? Why did you call your brother over here?"

The young man's voice came from off-camera, "It's okay. Since we're playing, let's have some fun!"
"No, no!" My wife struggled desperately, but she couldn't break free of her hands and feet. She tried her best to move her body away from the approaching high school student.

The high school student stood by the bed, looking down at my wife's naked body as she swayed helplessly. He seemed to enjoy the shameful expression on her face, and teased her mockingly, "Beautiful lady, I saw everything. You think it was easy for me to wait until now? You have to satisfy me, right?"

These words nearly broke my wife; she was almost in tears. Although the young man from before was older than my wife, he was still an adult, and it was one thing to play around with him if he looked good. But this student was at most sixteen or seventeen years old, and the age difference between him and my wife was too great. How much psychological trauma must she have suffered from being penetrated by a high school student? However, it was too late for Zhu Hong to resist. Every effort she made was easily defeated by the ropes that the young man had carefully tightened. In this situation, it was as difficult as climbing to heaven for my wife to move her body even an inch.

The student had already reached for my wife's naked body. He deliberately slowed down, slowly moving his hand towards her barely clothed chest. He was clearly enjoying the humiliating, helpless, and terrified expression of a victim before a storm. This showed he wasn't an inexperienced novice; he was quite experienced in manipulating women. Come to think of it, my wife said he was the young man's brother. Whether it was a biological brother or a foster brother, if the older brother was so skilled, how could the younger brother be so inexperienced?

Seeing this, I couldn't help but strongly criticize these guys in the group. I could accept them wanting to swap wives, or even just taking advantage of my wife for free, but why did a student have to come along? My wife, such a strong and aloof female executive at a foreign company, was not only stripped naked and raped in a cheap hotel bed, but then immediately bound and raped by a student. How could my wife and I bear this?

Zhu Hong watched helplessly as the student's hand slowly landed on her bare right breast. He swung his arms and legs with all his might, so forcefully that the thin hemp rope dug deep into the skin of her wrist. However, the young man was very skilled at binding my wife, and she could not break free at all. Bound by the rope, she could only let the student's hand caress her breasts without restraint.

My wife could only offer a final plea: "Young man, you're still young. How can you face your girlfriend after
doing this?" The student's face was flushed with excitement, and his breathing was even more rapid than my wife's. He almost roared, "What are you afraid of? Just don't tell her!"

He rubbed my wife's breasts harder and mischievously pinched and played with her nipples. This caused the flush that had just subsided on my wife's face to return, spreading throughout her body in an instant. Her originally fair skin turned a sickly pink. Under the student's assault on her breasts, her tightly bound body lifted slightly off the bed, and her right foot, clad in a white sock, arched outward, showing the extreme tension in her heart and body.

"Wait! Wait a minute!" Unable to bear the immense humiliation any longer, my wife pleaded with the student in an almost begging voice, "Could... I help you with my hand?"

My wife's phone is an iPhone 6s with 128GB of storage; otherwise, it wouldn't be able to hold such a long HD recording. But now that I'm holding it, the phone is getting hotter and hotter from continuous playback. To see the important parts, I fast-forwarded through some parts, such as the twenty minutes the young man was thrusting into my wife. Firstly, the movements were simple and repetitive, and secondly, since it was my own wife being fucked by someone else, watching it made me uneasy. So, the actual playback time was only about ten minutes. I heard the sound of water running in the bathroom stop, so I guessed my wife would be out of the shower soon.

It wouldn't be good for my wife to see me watching a video of her being manipulated, but if I gave her the phone back, I might never have the chance to experience such a stimulating and real scene again. Besides, the video was at an extremely exciting part, and I wasn't about to give up. On a whim, before my wife opened the bathroom door, I opened her QQ account, selected offline transfer to my phone, then turned off the iPhone screen and stuffed her phone into the bag my wife had on the bedside table.

I knew that transferring such a large file of over 10GB on a 4G network would take some time, but luckily I had many reasons to stall for time before my wife remembered that someone had filmed her with their phone.
My wife came out of the bathroom after showering, her long, wet hair hanging down her back. She had gone in carrying clothes, and now she was wearing jeans, barefoot, and a full-on denim jacket. I say "fully" because she hadn't buttoned it up when she came in, since she was wearing a white shirt underneath. But now the situation was completely different; she had buttoned every single button of the jacket. She was holding the remaining pieces of clothing, which were clearly unwearable.

It was the white shirt that had been on her body before; in the video I hadn't yet seen, some guys had apparently ejaculated on it. Her black bra strap was broken. These two items explained why she was wearing the denim jacket the way it was—she was completely naked underneath!

Wait a minute, it seems my wife also had that black pair of underwear in her hand. When I entered the room, the underwear was hanging on my wife's left leg. She took it off herself to wipe the semen that was all over her body after I untied her. After she came out of the shower, my wife wasn't wearing underwear, but just jeans. I couldn't help but imagine my wife carefully unzipping her jeans. If she wasn't careful, she might have pinched her pubic hair, which must have hurt a lot, right?

Actually, there was some semen on the cuffs of those light blue skinny jeans, but you can't expect my wife to leave the hotel wearing just her underwear, can you? It's obvious that my wife wiped the semen stains off the jeans when she showered, because there were obvious signs of washing with water on the cuffs.

Now it was time to deal with the foot problem. One of my wife's socks had been used to gag her, and the other had never been taken off. She was now crumpled up in her hand, clearly not wanting to wear only one shoe and leave the other barefoot. She threw her bra, shirt, underwear, and sock on the bed, picked up the left sneaker she'd taken off before showering, and slipped it on barefoot. She then picked up the right sneaker, which had been used to ejaculate, and examined it. After a moment's thought, she picked out the clean sock from the bed, carefully wiped it inside the sneaker, and then, frowning, put it on as well.

"Get me a plastic bag," my wife said casually.

I remembered there were bags in the trunk of the car, but I didn't want to go downstairs to get them alone. My wife's calm demeanor made me uneasy; I was afraid something might go wrong. So I rummaged through the drawers in the hotel room. It was my wife who reminded me that no one had thrown any trash in the wastebasket in the corner, and the garbage bags that the housekeeper changed every day could be used.
Zhu*hong went over and threw her bra, shirt, underwear, and socks into the garbage bag, then picked up the bag and said, "Let's go."

I said, "Just throw them in the wastebasket."

I figured that after this torrential rain, my wife wouldn't wear these soiled clothes anymore. The white Nike sneakers she was wearing were because she still had to walk, and she would throw them away as soon as she got home.

My wife shook her head and said firmly, "How can we leave them here? Throw them away halfway!"
She seemed worried that some hotel employee with a particular hobby might collect them for other uses, especially the bras and underwear—definitely someone's favorite! My wife clearly didn't want her underwear, which she had once worn close to her skin, to become someone else's prey. She was certainly thoughtful; didn't she know I shared the same interests? I thought to myself, "Honey, you're already someone else's prey yourself, why worry about such material things? Isn't that pointless?"
I dawdled, pretending to check if my wife had left anything behind in the room, while secretly glancing at my phone. The file transfer progress bar was just over halfway through, which seemed like a decent speed. My only worry was that the signal might drop in the elevator, ruining everything. So I decided to stall a little longer, coughing twice and tentatively asking my wife, "What happened earlier?"

My wife retorted in a hoarse voice, "Don't you know what happened? I should be asking you, what happened to you just now?"

Honestly, nothing happened! Aside from chatting with that woman surnamed Yang for a while, all I did was take a shower and watch TV for two hours. But would my wife believe me? If I were her, I would never believe this was a carefully orchestrated trap.

Seeing that I remained silent, Zhu Hong pressed on, "Whose wife were you with just now?"

This question struck a nerve. The woman waiting for me in the other hotel room seemed to be Xiao Luo's wife. But if this was a trap for my wife, then this so-called woman surnamed Yang might not actually have any relationship with Xiao Luo, and these guys might not be willing to let me take advantage of them.

I reviewed the whole process in my mind and began to understand what kind of trap they had set. This was undoubtedly a plan to lure me into a game of wife-swapping under the guise of their own pleasure with my wife. They had seen my wife's photos during their online investigations and were probably interested in her mature, white-collar style. They had discussed how to get me to lure my wife out and take her to a suburban hotel they had chosen for their sexual gratification.

Xiao Luo took me to the other hotel to distract me, so he implied that I should leave my wife alone in the lobby. The woman surnamed Yang in the room was trying to keep me calm, so she was wearing slim-fitting jeans to please me. As for the handsome young man in the video, he was clearly there to seduce my wife.

His looks, impeccable taste in clothing, and skillful seduction techniques, including telling my wife the truth about the so-called wife-swapping scheme, threw her into a state of panic, causing her to easily give up her resistance. Once the young man successfully penetrated my wife's body, her cold and proud defenses completely crumbled. This directly led to my wife allowing the young man to bind her. Once she was stripped naked and her hands and feet were tied, it became effortless for these men to rape or gang rape her.

I even believe that after the young man ejaculated inside my wife, arranging for his sixteen or seventeen-year-old brother to rape Zhu*hong, who was naked and tied to the bed, was to create immense humiliation for my wife, becoming the final straw that broke her proud personality. As for how this humiliation was created, I had only read the beginning and already foreseen my wife's tragic fate.

However, my wife could have refused the invitation from the strange man after I left. Surely no one would force her in the lobby? Even if they considered him a friend and it was inconvenient to refuse outright, how could she so easily become intimate with a man other than her husband? You don't even know his name! Just because he's handsome, just because you told your husband you were brought here for wife swapping, you were stripped naked and pushed onto the bed?
This reminds me of the rumors about my wife, her boss, and her out-of-town clients. Could these rumors be unfounded, or are they all true? I once received an anonymous email with a photo of a woman giving oral sex attached. The lighting, framing, and angle made it impossible to see the woman's face, but her hairstyle, figure, and clothing did resemble Zhu Hong. At the time, I was skeptical, thinking it was a frame-up by my wife's business rival to cause trouble for her. Now, looking back, could my strong and dignified wife actually have a promiscuous nature deep down?

If the woman in the photo is indeed Zhu Hong, then today's events make sense. Her French-owned company has extensive business dealings with France, so the Western trend of sexual liberation inevitably seeps into the country. It's not surprising that my wife has been subtly influenced and developed an open attitude towards sex.

Ultimately, the responsibility today lies with me. I shouldn't have willingly handed my wife over to someone else. So, I stammered out the whole story to my wife, telling the vast majority of it truthfully, except for the initial reason for joining the wife-swapping group. I didn't want to admit that I had wife-swapping intentions long ago, but rather attributed it to being misled by bad friends and going astray, and that I was misled today.

Of course, I also deliberately concealed the fact that I was secretly excited about what my wife had gone through.
My wife stood in the middle of the room, listening quietly to my explanation, her face very gloomy, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with my words. I asked nervously, "Should we call the police?"

My wife glared at me and said angrily, "Call the police? Do you think I haven't lost face enough today? If you call the police, you'll be the first one arrested!"

Thinking about it, she was right. I was involved, after all; the police wouldn't believe I was a victim. I nodded repeatedly, saying, "Yes, yes, we can't call the police."

My wife was about to say something when she suddenly remembered something, her expression changed, and she quickly went to the bedside, rummaging through the pillows and towels, muttering to herself, "Where's my phone?"

Hearing this, my heart tightened. Pretending to help her look for it, I slowly picked up the bag I had placed in the guest room chair when I put the phone in, reached in, and grabbed my wife's phone. I glanced at it and saw the file transfer... The progress bar disappeared, indicating the video had been transferred to my phone. I then reminded my wife, "Wasn't it in your bag?"

She immediately came over and snatched the bag from my hand, took out her iPhone 6s, turned on the screen, looked at it, and instead of putting it back in the bag, shoved it directly into the back pocket of her jeans. She casually gestured for me to pick up the trash bag containing her bra and underwear. She thoughtfully glanced at the large bed in the guest room, where pillows, towels, and two thin ropes were piled haphazardly. Yes, that was the main battlefield today; my wife, stripped naked and bound, had suffered humiliation on this very bed.

Seeing the uncertain expression on my wife's face, I wisely went to the bedside, pulled both ropes from under the bed, rolled them up, and threw them into the trash bag. After all, the people in the hotel knew my wife had spent the afternoon in this room; leaving the ropes on the bed would immediately reveal what had happened.

I walked ahead, my wife following closely behind. We left the guest room and went downstairs. I returned the two room keys to the front desk. The young woman at the front desk was young, barely in her early twenties. She took the keys, barely glancing at me, her gaze fixed on my wife standing in the lobby. I felt she was desperately trying to hide her smile.
I knew what she was laughing at. This afternoon, seven men, including me, had entered the guest rooms, but my wife was the only woman. This young woman, though young, had a very impure mind; she was clearly imagining my wife taking on seven men in a lewd scene.

Could I correct her and say I wasn't in that scene? One against six is lewd enough, you know! I shook my head speechlessly and walked out of the hotel with my wife.

I didn't ask what the hotel's relationship was with those guys; even if I did, I wouldn't get any answers. When we got the car, my wife walked ahead of me. My gaze lingered on her round, tight buttocks encased in her jeans. I noticed a small, inconspicuous stain of semen near the seam of her jeans. Looking at this tiny, undetected mark, my mind raced. My first thought was that those guys had tied my wife up like that, meaning they hadn't penetrated her anus. Then I remembered she wasn't wearing underwear, and I wondered if touching it would get me a slap.

Forcing myself to resist the urge, I secretly checked my phone to confirm I'd received the video. We got into the car and drove home.

The car drove for a long time on the national highway leading to the city. My wife didn't say a word, but rolled down the passenger window. The wind blew in, messing up my wife's bangs. The ends of her hair covered most of her face. She looked sadly at the buildings slowly moving away in the distance and the white clouds on the horizon. I didn't dare to break the silence. Apart from the occasional car whizzing by, the only sound in the car was the whistling wind.

After a long while, my wife asked quietly, "Who are those six people?"

I instinctively answered, "Friends from a QQ chat group."

"Nonsense!" My wife wasn't satisfied with my answer. "Do you know their names or identities?"
I shook my head, giving a helpless bitter smile, and said, "I only know their online names. I doubt the information they filled in on their QQ profiles is real." We didn't

exchange another word the rest of the way home. Before we got home, my wife even forgot to remind me to throw away the trash bag. I remembered, but since she didn't mention it, I didn't feel obligated to throw it away. It seemed like I could use it for something…
As the saying goes, "Going out with ulterior motives, returning with a sense of loss." Today, I was tricked. My attempt to swap wives backfired, and I was played with instead. I admit defeat. Who told me to be blinded by lust?

Back home, my wife only said one cold sentence to me: "What happened today is between you and me. Don't tell anyone."

I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, "I was afraid you wouldn't let it go. It's best you don't mention it. Life can go on as usual. "
After speaking, my wife went into the bedroom without looking back, closing the door behind her. She had suffered such humiliation today, and couldn't make a sound; she really needed some time alone to calm herself.

I stood in the living room for a moment, stunned, making sure my wife was asleep. Knowing it was unwise to go into the bedroom now, I went to the study, closed the door, turned on the computer, copied the video to the hard drive using a data cable, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, letting the tobacco fill my lungs, slowly exhaling smoke rings. I picked up the headset from the computer desk, put it on, and started watching the video.

The reason I wasn't eager to watch was because I also needed to adjust my mood. The atmosphere on the way here was too oppressive, severely affecting my interest. Now, the 22-inch computer screen was enough for me to see every detail of my wife having sex with someone else. The high-fidelity stereo headset my wife gave me for her birthday also allowed me to hear every subtle moan of hers. She never dreamed that the headset she gave me would one day be used to play videos of her being raped.

In the hotel room, before my wife finished showering, the video showed a high school student touching my wife's naked breasts. My wife, tightly bound, had no ability to resist or escape. In desperation, she could only beg the high school student to help her masturbate in order to escape the tragic fate of being raped by a child so much older than her. The

audiovisual effects on the computer screen were indeed far superior to watching on the small screen of a mobile phone; the image of my wife's naked body, her limbs spread wide by the ropes, was far more visually impactful! Through

the earpiece came the high school student's slightly immature voice. He raised two fingers that were fiddling with my wife's nipples, brought his right hand close to his ear, leaned slightly forward, and exaggeratedly asked, "Beautiful lady, what did you say? I didn't hear you clearly, please say it again?"

My wife knew the high school student was teasing her, but dared not be angry. She could only grit her teeth and repeat what she had just said: "I said... I'll help you come with my hand..."

Saying the same thing twice made my wife's face turn as red as if it were dripping blood, but her eyes were full of expectation, hoping the high school student would accept her suggestion.

"Huh? Help me...get it out with your hand?" The student feigned ignorance and asked again, "I'm young and don't really understand. Tell me, beautiful lady, where do you want to do it?"

Tears welled up in my wife's eyes, flowing down her temples and into the hair pressed behind her head. Suppressing the humiliation in her heart, my wife had to answer this question that brought even greater humiliation. She could have pointed to the student's crotch with her finger, but unfortunately her hands were tied with rope, so she could only say, "Your crotch."

The young man filming off-camera chimed in at the right moment, "Beautiful lady, what crotch? Be more specific."
My wife became even angrier. She tried her best to raise her neck and glare at the camera. I knew she was actually glaring at the young man behind the camera, ready to curse, but when she thought of her embarrassing situation at this moment, she swallowed back the vicious words.

The high school student pressed on, asking, "Tell me, what down there?"

My wife, as if using all her strength, stammered, "Your... genitals."
After saying the word "genitals," all her energy seemed to drain away. You have to understand how difficult it was for a career woman like her to utter those three words.

The high school student laughed loudly, "You're a college graduate after all, spouting technical jargon like that! Genitals? It's my dick!"

Zhu*hong closed her eyes in shame, resignedly nodded, and followed up, "Yes! Your dick!"
The high school student laughed even harder at this, asking between laughs, "I'd like to agree, but beautiful, both your hands seem to be tied. How am I supposed to do it?"

He was right about that; my wife's hands were tied above her shoulders, the backs of her hands almost touching the headboard. Whether the high school student was standing, kneeling, or sitting on the bed, it would be either too high or too low for him to reach. If he insisted on doing it this way, there were only two possibilities: either he would untie Zhu*hong's hands

, or the student would stand on the bed and then bend down to reach her hands. However, he would definitely find this position uncomfortable, and my wife's wrists were bound with thin hemp rope, preventing her from moving her arms. He could only manipulate her by making small movements with his hands, which would likely not satisfy his needs.

Seeing my wife speechless, the student reached for her body again. This time, his right hand pervertedly stroked my wife's pubic hair, completely disregarding the semen on it. Instead of grabbing the entire clump of my wife's pubic hair in his palm, the student used three fingers to pinch off a small tuft, pulled it up slightly, and rubbed it back and forth between his fingers, as if the hair in his hand was not the crimson pubic hair, but some other soft and delicate toy.

The shame of having her pubic hair grabbed and played with was unprecedented. Zhu Hong instinctively tried to bring her legs together, but couldn't. She tried to move her legs to avoid the humiliation, but was equally powerless. The young man's binding of my wife's feet was too ingenious. No matter which way she turned, she couldn't succeed. Her legs were spread at the same angle, and the area of her thighs was still the same. The tiny distance my wife moved by using her waist and abdomen only made her pubic hair get pulled tighter. It almost got plucked out by the student, which made my wife give up trying to escape.

The student, quite pleased with my wife's dejected expression at the thwarted efforts, said while playing with her pubic hair, "Beautiful lady, you're right. I'm still young, how could I possibly penetrate you there? I originally only intended to touch you."

My wife was startled, opened her eyes, and a glimmer of hope for escaping disaster flashed in her gaze. However, the student's tone changed, and he added, "But you yourself said you'd help me with my hand, which makes me think we should go further. Since my hand can't reach, I'll just have to penetrate you there."

My wife was speechless, nearly driven to a mental breakdown by the high school student's words. Her inner monologue must have been: "Have you no shame? You said you only wanted to touch me, how could you say that? I'm stripped and tied up like this, I don't believe you had any intention of penetrating me!"

Having worked in the corporate world for many years, my wife is used to people who say one thing to one person and another to someone else. She knew perfectly well that the student's words were purely meant to amuse her. The reason she experienced repeated hope followed by despair, being manipulated verbally by a mere teenager, was entirely due to her extreme predicament—being at the mercy of others. Her only hope was that the student would suddenly have a change of heart and show mercy. In
the ever-changing business world, my wife has always remained calm and collected, handling all sorts of people with ease. Her successful experiences have forged her aloofness and strong personality. Even so, after being stripped naked and tied to the bed, she could only pray for a lifeline to save her.

Unfortunately, what she ultimately received was the straw that broke the camel's back, crushing her last shred of self-respect. The student was clearly pleased with my wife's complex emotions, which shifted rapidly between sadness and joy. While playing with her pubic hair, he continued to further assault her psyche with outrageous and explicit words: "However, beautiful women always have privileges. I can let you choose where I insert it?"

My wife immediately shut her mouth tightly, afraid that a careless word would bring disaster upon her. How could she possibly make a choice? Letting a student insert it anywhere on her body was extremely shameful.

The student nodded, grunted, and said, "Judging from your expression, you've made your choice. In this position, it's impossible to penetrate you from behind, because turning you over would require some effort. You're keeping your mouth shut, which means you don't want me to interrupt. So, here it is."

As soon as he finished speaking, the student released my wife's pubic hair, freed his hand, and roughly touched my wife's vulva twice, saying, "That's right, this area has just been fucked for several tens of minutes, we should keep going."

My wife felt as if she had been electrocuted when his hand unexpectedly touched her most sensitive part of her body. Her body tensed up suddenly, and when she fell back onto the bed, she was even trembling slightly.

By this time, my wife's face was already streaked with tears. Knowing that rape was inevitable, she trembled and said, "Please, no!"

The student, without even taking off his shoes, flipped onto the bed and stood in the triangle formed by his crimson legs and the thin hemp rope tied between his ankles. He quickly stripped off all his clothes and threw them aside, leaving only his sneakers on his feet. The camera then zoomed in, changing the perspective. I saw the student's still-childish face, his features unremarkable except for the acne caused by hormones; he could only be described as plain.

He already had some fine stubble on his lips, and his body was quite thin. What I found particularly objectionable was the high school student's penis. Compared to his so-called older brother, it was completely different—thin and short, looking somewhat forlorn amidst the sparse pubic hair. It was probably due to underdeveloped growth. Stimulated by my wife's naked body, this thing, which could barely be called a penis, was already engorged and erect, but judging from its size, it was less than two-thirds the size of the young man's penis.

The student showed no sign of inferiority, or perhaps he had transformed it into a pervert. After teasing my wife in every way possible, he finally got to the point. He first bent over and knelt on the bed, his knees precisely pressing against the inside of my wife's thighs near her knees, making it impossible for her to even slightly close her legs. Then, the student braced his hands on the bed surface not far from my wife's shoulders, pressing down on the naked woman beneath him. His penis, though not yet inserted, was already hard and pressed against my wife's already open vaginal opening. To be honest, although short, his penis was still quite hard when erect, and breaking in was just a thought away.
My wife felt the student pressing down on her, ready to pounce, and cried out, "No!" But before she could even open her lips, the high school student forcefully pressed his face between her lips, forcing her to open her mouth and accept the student's fierce kiss. He greedily inhaled the breath from my wife's mouth, indiscriminately exhaling his own stale air into her mouth as well.

He rapidly escalated his desire amidst the woman's allure, then abruptly raised his head, as if challenging my wife's will, or perhaps wrestling with himself. A low growl followed, and then, with a soft "plop," his penis shoved into Zhu*hong's vagina, and the two were instantly joined!

At the moment the student penetrated her, Zhu*hong let out a long sigh, turning her head to the side, resigned to her fate of being raped.

I, watching on the screen, also sighed deeply. My wife, after having sex with a stranger, had been violated by a second stranger—this time, it was outright rape, and the one who raped my wife was none other than a callow high school student!

[The End]

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Wife swapping attempt backfires as the victim is tricked.

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