The host invited: My wife was raped while performing on stage.

I often read erotic novels online. After reading so many stories about men humiliating their girlfriends and wives, I've started to wonder if I could expose my wife to the same fate.

My wife is quite open-minded and often reads those novels with me.

She finds the scenarios of girlfriends or wives being gang-raped unbelievable, believing them to be just the author's imagination.

I never imagined that one day my wife would be gang-raped by other men. I

just have these strange thoughts, and I often encourage my wife to wear revealing outfits to satisfy my fantasies.

I frequently take my wife to nightclubs that invite female audience members to dance on stage.

I really enjoy watching the sexy women perform provocative dances.

Some of the more aggressive ones involve hosts or male dancers on stage who guide or physically remove the women's clothes down to their underwear,

or even completely naked, before they make extremely provocative moves.

My wife also really enjoys watching these kinds of performances, and she's always thought those girls on stage are incredibly daring, wondering how they manage to do it. Actually, I secretly hope she'll have a chance to go on stage and have some fun; after all, watching other girls from the audience is a completely different visual experience than watching my own wife being humiliated.

But every time the host invites her up on stage, she refuses, even though I keep encouraging her.

That night, we went to a place we'd never been to before, so we weren't sure how extreme the activities were.

When we went in, there was a young girl and a male dancer on stage.

The male dancer was only wearing a thong that was bulging out.

We had just sat down, and the music was about to end.

The girl's clothes were still relatively intact; she was wearing a semi-transparent bra, and her pink panties were showing. Her top and skirt had fallen to a corner of the stage.

After the music ended, she straightened her bra, bent down to pick up her top and skirt from the side of the stage, and walked off the stage with a flushed smile.

Then the lights dimmed, and a spotlight swept back and forth, finally settling on my wife.

The host on stage reached out to her, inviting her to come up.

Her face flushed, and she looked at me as if asking for my opinion, or perhaps pleading for my help.

The audience was already applauding enthusiastically, urging her to come on stage.

I coaxed and cajole her, saying, "Go up and have some fun! That woman wasn't that bad. When you're out having fun, you should have a good time." She said, "Just a little contact, nothing too provocative. You have to keep an eye on me!"

I said repeatedly, "Okay! Okay! I know! I'll be watching you!"

My wife was already on stage.

Of course I'd be watching her; how could I miss such a rare opportunity! I wish I had a video camera! As soon as my wife stepped onto the stage, the loud music started.

At first, the male dancers gently led her in the dance, trying to help her relax.

Slowly, the dancers began to slide my wife's hands across their chests.

He then embraced her tightly from behind, his lower body thrusting rhythmically, rubbing against his swollen crotch and buttocks.

My wife's face flushed red, but I could tell she was actually quite excited.

Today, my wife was wearing a strapless bra, a white shirt tied at the waist revealing a glimpse of her belly, and a very short skirt. She

looked incredibly sexy and alluring.

The male dancer noticed my wife was getting into the mood.

As he thrust, his hands skillfully untied the knot at her shirt.

With a turn, my wife deftly slipped out, the white shirt already in the dancer's hands.

I hadn't expected my wife to do this.

Anyone unaware would think it was rehearsed.

This scene excited me greatly; my crotch was throbbing.

Watching my wife dancing intimately with another man in public, under the eyes of over a hundred people,

even though she was only wearing a top—not much different from wearing a swimsuit—was already incredibly arousing.

That day, my wife wore a white bra. Although it wasn't very transparent, after a round of dancing and the friction between her buttocks, her nipples were quite prominent, fully exposed to everyone's view.

I could feel the frenzy of the audience below the stage; their eyes seemed to be about to pop out. This made my vanity swell unconsciously. With barely audible panting, my beautiful wife's cheeks were burning red.

On stage, she wore only a bra, her breasts pressed against the male dancer, constantly swaying her round buttocks.

The male dancer's hands had already reached for the zipper at the back of her short skirt.

In less than a second, the short skirt fell to the ground, swirling around her ankles.

Fortunately, she wasn't wearing a transparent bra or a thong today; it was just a little low-waisted.

If you looked closely, you could see one or two curly hairs peeking out from the side.

My wife's face flushed red, but I could tell she was actually excited.

She probably thought the previous girl had also stripped down to her bra and panties, so she didn't think much of it and stepped off the short skirt on the floor.

With a quick kick, she sent the skirt flying to the edge of the stage.

On stage, she was only wearing a bra and a small pair of low-rise panties, her feet in high heels.

The audience applauded enthusiastically. She rubbed her breasts with both hands through her bra, one on each side.

Her legs were straddling one of the male dancer's legs, her vulva rubbing against his thigh through her panties.

Sometimes I really don't understand women's psychology. Before going on stage, she said she didn't want to do anything too provocative.

Now, her dance moves might actually ignite something! The male dancer's right hand was around her back to maintain her balance.

I couldn't see what he was doing, but suddenly the back clasp of her bra snapped open.

Suddenly, my wife, who had been rubbing her breasts, immediately pressed her hands tightly against them.

She glanced at me, as if sending a distress signal, but given this rare opportunity, I wasn't about to let it slip away. I nodded gently to indicate it was alright.

At that moment, the music abruptly stopped, replaced by a drumbeat, somewhat like a magic show.

The male dancer whispered something in my wife's ear, then grabbed her bra and ripped it off.

My wife's hands remained pressed against her breasts.

Although nothing was exposed, a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience.

She later told me that the dancer had assured her he wouldn't let her expose herself without her consent before letting him remove her bra.

In reality, she hasn't exposed a single inch.

The scene, as I described before, resembled a magic show.

My wife stood on stage, topless, hands on her breasts.

The male dancer turned and waved backstage, and then the host came out carrying a cardboard box.

They stood in front of my wife, frantically working on her chest.

I couldn't see what they were doing from below the stage. I

only vaguely saw them applying a small, shimmering substance to her chest.

My wife kept her head down, watching.

Then, another round of drumming began.

As they moved aside, allowing everyone to see my wife again,

she slowly removed her left hand, revealing her left breast. A shiny nipple cover was visible, just covering her nipple.

The

nipple still had several strands of ribbon about ten centimeters long attached.

It looked like a stripper's costume.

Damn it! What do you mean by "too revealing"?

Isn't just a nipple cover-up enough? When she removed her hand, her entire breast was visible! What's a little more revealing? My wife's left breast was now completely exposed, both hemispheres. Whether she

wore a nipple cover-up or not, it made no difference! She looked exactly like a stripper.

Then, another round of drumming began, as if foreshadowing an even more spectacular performance.

The host then pulled my wife's left hand and slowly pushed it inside her panties,

positioning it perfectly over her vulva.

Her hands were stuffed inside her low-rise pants, stretching the already pitifully small fabric off her body, no longer able to conceal her dark, curly hair.

But it was still impossible to see whose fingers were probing her vulva.

After rubbing her vulva for a while, the male dancer standing nearby suddenly pulled her panties down from behind.

My wife frantically crossed her legs, hoping to keep the panties from being pulled down.

But with her right hand pressing on her breasts and her left hand on her vulva, how could she resist the dancer's pull?

Watching the panties being pulled down to her ankles, she was powerless to stop them. The

panties were so tight around her ankles that even walking was difficult, so she could only helplessly lift her feet and step out.

My wife stood on the stage, sideways, her hands pressing on her breasts and vulva, her eyes fixed on me, hoping I could rescue her.

I was also hesitant. On one hand, I didn't want my wife to be taken too far, but on the other hand, I wanted to watch a little longer. I could only signal to her with my eyes to be patient a little longer.

The audience cheered and whistled, encouraging my wife to remove her hands and expose herself completely.

The male dancer whispered in my wife's ear, "I told you I wouldn't let you expose yourself, right? Move your hands a little so I can cover you up." The male dancer knelt in front of my wife, gesturing for her to move her hands away.

My wife turned halfway around, her back to the audience, and moved her hand that was pressing on her vulva.

From behind, you could see several of her fingers pressing tightly.

The male dancer took out something that looked like a butterfly from a distance, fiddled with it in front of her for a while, then stood up and worked on her right breast.

My wife kept looking down to see if she had been exposed.

Then, as if relieved, she slowly turned around and removed her hands.

A butterfly-shaped vibrator was already attached to her vulva.

A shiny, bandaged nipple was also pasted on her right breast, just like the one on the left.

Standing on the stage, she was covered only by two nipples and a vibrator.

She seemed to have completely let go, her hands no longer pressing against her breasts or vulva.

Then the music started again.

The male dancer led her in another dance.

This dance, less restrictive, was more natural and therefore more passionate.

My wife's breasts swayed constantly in the air, causing the bandages to dance wildly.

Her gaze sometimes fell on me, but it no longer held the pleading look from before.

Instead, it held an excited yet complex expression.

Then she turned around, leaning against the muscular man, her body heaving up and down, rubbing her back and buttocks against his chest and bulging genitals.

She even pulled his hands to caress her breasts.

The male dancer was quite bold, pinching her breasts from behind and spinning the ties around like two windmills in front of her. (

For context, my wife is a large-breasted woman, wearing a D-cup bra.

Otherwise, no matter how much she swung, she couldn't possibly move the ties.)

She raised her arms and hugged his neck, turning her face to whisper something in his ear.

From his eyes, I could sense a hint of disbelief, but also obvious excitement.

My wife turned, knelt down, pulled down his thong with her left hand, grabbed his erect penis with her right, stroked it a few times, then opened her mouth and swallowed his swollen, purple glans, moving her head back and forth to give him oral sex.

Sometimes her tongue circled around the glans, sometimes licking from the head all the way down to his testicles.

My wife's oral skills are quite good; sometimes I can't help but ejaculate during her oral services.

The male dancer turned around and waved to the backstage area, then pushed a long shawl to the center of the stage.

He sat down casually, enjoying my wife's services. He

would occasionally brush her hair aside, allowing everyone to clearly see her cherry-like lips teasing his penis.

My wife was squatting with her back to the audience, her anus naturally open, facing them.

This was the first time she had exposed herself since she started performing, and it was her fourth point.

The vibrator attached to her vulva couldn't quite cover it, and you could vaguely see it glistening with moisture.

To be honest, the male dancer hadn't let her expose herself before.

Now she was exposing her anus to the audience herself.

After licking for a few minutes, she stood up, turned around, and faced the audience.

She glanced at me, and before I could react, she unhesitatingly untied the vibrator, revealing her overflowing vulva.

She then positioned the erect penis, adjusted it, and with a downward thrust, the male dancer's glans disappeared into my wife's vulva.

After a few more up-and-down strokes, the entire penis was inserted all the way in, leaving only the scrotum, about the size of a tennis ball, sticking out.

The male dancer reached out from behind and held my wife's waist, making her thrust her vagina against his penis.

She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and rubbed her breasts back and forth with her hands.

After a short while, the two nipples were rubbed off.

Without thinking, she casually threw them on the ground.

In other words, my wife was completely naked in front of the entire audience.

At this point, I felt a little uncomfortable and wanted to pull my wife off the stage, but looking at the eyes of all the audience members below, each one seemed to want to devour my wife, so I held back.

Since we're going to have fun, let's just enjoy it! My wife swayed for a while, then stood up, and the male dancer's penis slid out.

I thought she finally realized she had gone too far and wanted to end this lewd scene.

Then, she turned around, climbed back onto the male dancer, grabbed his penis, and shoved it into her vagina.

The atmosphere in the audience was on the verge of spiraling out of control.

Applause erupted in rhythm with my wife's hip-shaking

, the tempo quickening.

Suddenly, with a whoosh, my wife collapsed onto the male dancer, trembling uncontrollably.

I knew this all too well! It was always like this when she climaxed.

The atmosphere reached its peak of excitement.

Amidst the cheers, my wife looked up and whispered something in the male dancer's ear, then turned and gestured towards me, saying something I couldn't quite make out.

The male dancer gave me a lewd look, then beckoned the host over and gave him a few instructions.

The host then announced, "Our leading lady is now inviting an audience member to join the performance! This lucky person is…"

The spotlight swept across the room, finally settling on a young man sitting at the table next to me.

The boy stood up, clasped his hands in a gesture of respect, and walked onto the stage with a broad smile.

(I later asked my wife, and she said she was originally going to call me up.

But the male dancer deliberately called the wrong person – the boy sitting at the table next to me.

My wife, having just orgasmed, was weak and clung to the male dancer, completely unaware of the change in events.

The male dancer remained silent, so my wife had no idea that I wasn't the one going on stage.

The male dancer intentionally held my wife close, slowly thrusting his penis in and out, making her so focused on enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm that she didn't realize she needed to turn around to see if it was me running onto the stage.

The boy hopped onto the stage and, in less than half a minute, stripped naked.

He stood behind my wife, gently supporting her waist, and asked her to turn around.

She seemed about to lift her waist to get off...)

Then the male dancer held her waist, forcing her to turn around with the penis still inside her vagina .

My wife didn't resist and complied.

When she turned around and saw a complete stranger in front of her, she looked utterly bewildered.

She tried to struggle, but how could she possibly overcome two men?

The man who had just come on stage was already aroused from watching from below, so his penis was already erect and ready for action.

I watched from below as they exchanged glances; one seemed to be asking, "Are you going to pull out first?" The other replied with his eyes, "Just come in like this." So the man who had just come on stage mounted her and forcefully shoved his penis into my wife's vagina.

If you've ever seen adult films, you've probably seen how men insert their penises into women's vaginas from behind. Unless the man's penis is so large that it completely fills the vagina, a small triangular gap will remain above the vagina, near the clitoris.

If the second penis is long and pointed and hard enough, it can be forced through this gap.

I couldn't see clearly from below the stage, but I believe the situation was pretty much as it appeared.

I saw my wife push the man's chest forward with one hand, while trying to lift her buttocks.

However, the male dancer behind her held her waist tightly, making it impossible to avoid the second penis that was about to be inserted.

She tilted her head back, frowned, closed her eyes tightly, and silently endured the tearing sensation of her vagina being stretched by two penises simultaneously.

Time seemed to pass for a century; the entire hall was completely silent.

The man... After inserting the penis fully, he stopped to let my wife catch her breath.

None of the three men on stage moved.

My wife slowly opened her eyes, looked down at the two penises inserted to the hilt of her vagina, and let out a long breath.

The entire audience immediately erupted in enthusiastic applause.

The man began to slowly thrust his penis in and out.

As he pulled his penis out, my wife relaxed slightly.

As he pushed it in, my wife reached out and supported her chest, tensing her brow and arching her back to receive the inserted penis.

After a while of thrusting, my wife seemed to have adapted to the feeling of fullness, her initial discomfort turning into a slight pleasure.

This slight pleasure then intensified into intense stimulation, causing her to involuntarily wiggle her hips and increase the speed of her thrusts.

Here I'd like to digress a bit. Many sex experts say that a woman's G-spot is located above the vagina. Stimulating this G-spot can easily bring a woman to orgasm, even causing her to squirt—the so-called "squirt." My wife later told me that the two penises that day really filled her vagina to bursting.

Every thrust rubbed against a certain spot, which I believe was her G-spot, making her incredibly itchy.

Her body naturally swayed with the rhythm of the thrusts. She

was almost lost in the moment.

After a round of frenzied thrusting, my wife cried out again.

She was supporting herself with one hand on the male dancer beneath her, and pushing the other towards the man in front of her, her vaginal fluid gushing out between her vagina and the two penises.

But the man thrusting showed no sign of stopping, his arms tightly around her waist, his hips pounding against her vagina like waves.

He seemed to be at the point of no return.

Each thrust was heavier than the last, and with the final thrust, I thought he'd pushed his scrotum into my wife's vagina as well.

The stage finally fell silent. Her vagina, still wet with vaginal fluid, squeezed out glistening white semen through the tight opening.

This was my wife's first "squirt." Since then, in the woman-on-top position, she could usually find her G-spot.

Sometimes she could squirt multiple times in one night.

After ejaculating, the man's penis slid out of her vagina.

My wife leaned weakly against the male dancer.

He still hadn't ejaculated; his hard penis was still inside my wife, her vaginal fluid mixed with the semen flowing down his penis, onto his scrotum, and then dripping onto the floor.

The stage went from intense to calm, and the audience was completely silent.

Then, applause began from some corner, and the entire hall was filled with enthusiastic applause.

I vaguely heard someone saying that my wife wasn't a live audience member but a professional dancer.

I couldn't be bothered to explain.

I just felt a little disappointed, unsure how to face the reality of what had happened.

The ordeal wasn't over yet. The male dancer on stage flipped over and pinned my wife down again.

He thrust his penis into her vagina once more.

After two orgasms, my wife was too exhausted to move. She could

only lie on the sofa and endure another round of thrusting.

I don't know how much time passed, but then the male dancer straightened his back and filled my wife's vagina with his hot semen once more.

The host then came out from backstage and, seeing my wife lying there exhausted, called several backstage staff to push her and the sofa backstage.

Then he started calling the hot girls from the audience onto the stage.

I was worried about my wife backstage and had no interest in watching the performance.

After waiting for half an hour without seeing my wife come out, I wondered what was going on, so I got up and went backstage to look for her.

The backstage area was empty, except for my wife lying there, her upper body covered by the white shirt she wore on stage.

Her lower body was completely naked, revealing her ravaged vulva.

I went over and asked her how she was.

She said that several staff members had taken turns ejaculating into her several times.

I was furious and had nowhere to vent my anger.

I said to her, "What do you mean, several times? Once is once, twice is twice, how many times did you get fucked?"

In my frustration, I even swore.

She said aggrievedly, "Some of them did it once, some twice, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, how was I supposed to count!"

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The host invited: My wife was raped while performing on stage.

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