Wrong road

After that night with Roma and Tolik, sometimes remembering what happened during sex, Alina and I would be hit by a wave of wild lust. A couple of times I called either Tolik or Romka and casually asked when they'd be coming our way, but Tolik's wife was about to give birth, and Romka had gone abroad on business.

I regretted it when, following the navigator, the asphalt road turned into a dirt road. We were driving through the forest and at first I thought it was probably a shorter route, but when half an hour passed and we were still driving through the woods, I realized we needed to get back to a proper road and then see. It was starting to get light, the road was narrow, and while turning around, I drove onto the shoulder and heard something hit hard underneath. I managed to turn around anyway, and when I got out to look, there was already a puddle of oil under the car. The situation was completely hopeless, as mobile service didn't work in this backwater either.

The hunting lodge turned out to be a fairly cozy shack, with a stove, though the toilet and shower were outside and there was no electricity, but we had no choice. Taking our things from the car and giving him money for parts, he left and we were left to "enjoy" the remote wilderness.

I lit the stove, heated a couple of buckets of water. We ate, washed up, and settled on a worn-out sofa right in our clothes and fell asleep. We were awakened by voices outside. It was already starting to get dark, and looking out into the yard, I saw my car and a UAZ van. Standing near them were San Sanych and another guy, about 35 years old, named Mikhail, his nephew. They came into the house, placed a lantern on the table since there was no light, a couple of bottles of vodka, and a bag of food. Alina was sitting on the sofa, and San Sanych said authoritatively that she should set the table and get the dishes from the pantry. I started to protest, saying we were going to leave, but he replied that night was coming soon and we could get lost, so we should sit, have a drink, and leave in the morning. Since Alina, besides the short dress she was wearing, hadn't brought anything else with her, she stayed in it, and while she was bustling about and bending over to slice the sausage, the men kept glancing at her legs and ass.

We sat and had dinner, and with each glass they drank, the men kept looking at my wife more and more brazenly. It should be said, they had already arrived tipsy and were getting even drunker. Alina, for propriety's sake, only sipped the vodka from her glass, as they didn't have shot glasses; I also didn't touch the vodka, since I was driving tomorrow. So they finished off two bottles and it was decided they would finally leave, but San Sanych whispered with Mikhail and asked me to go to the pantry, saying there was another bottle there and they wanted to drink a little more. The pantry door was not far from me, so I got up and went into the pantry. The door closed behind me immediately; I tried to open it, but it had been bolted. Sensing trouble, I started banging on it and saying, "Guys, don't be stupid, open up." And then San Sanych said in a drunken, unfriendly voice, "Don't make a fuss, we're going to have a little fun with your fancy girl, and I'd better not struggle, saying the place is remote, they're hunters, and they could just make us disappear."

The pantry door was made of planks, and through the crack between them, I could clearly see what was happening in the room. Alina sat on the sofa with frightened eyes and, probably from nerves, tried to pull her short dress down over her knees. San Sanych sat down next to her, put his big paw on her chest, and squeezed. Alina tried to push him away, but he gave her a light slap and said in a commanding tone:

"Don't squirm, you city slut, better have a drink of vodka." He said it in such a tone that she took the glass and drank it all in one gulp.

"That's better, now have a bite, bitch," with these words he stood up and pulled down his pants, dangling his half-hard cock of such a size that I was stunned in front of her face, and taking her by the hair, pulled her towards it.

From Alina's eyes, I understood she was also shocked by the size of San Sanych's dick, and seeing her stunned look, he laughed and said:

"What, slut, you like it? In our village, this isn't the biggest."

Misha also started laughing and said that in the city there probably aren't any like that since this bitch is so stunned. He started poking the tip at her lips; Alina grimaced and started shaking her head:

"At least wash it," she exclaimed.

This angered San Sanych, and he slapped her:

"Open your mouth, bitch, and suck!"

Misha laughed:

"Oh, what a fancy girl, a man's cock makes her turn up her nose."

The slap was harder than the previous one; her cheek reddened, tears welled up in her eyes. I started yelling, "Guys, calm down."

"Nobody's asking you, sit there quietly and everything will be fine," San Sanych replied.

Alina obediently opened her mouth, and he inserted the tip. I saw her, suppressing her gag reflex, start to suck it. To my feelings of anger and helplessness, excitement began to mix in at the thought that my fragile, well-groomed girl was now sucking the dirty cock of a complete stranger. To my shame, I got hard, and all I could do was watch through the crack as my wife was raped.

"That's better, acting all fancy," said San Sanych, trying to shove it as deep into Alina's mouth as possible.

Alina, although she knew how to give a fantastic blowjob, didn't like it when they shoved it down her throat, and probably to avoid that, she grabbed his huge cock with both hands and started sucking the head and jerking it.

"Look what she's doing, just like in a porno, and she was putting on airs," said Misha.

Alina really sucked excellently; after about five minutes, San Sanych started breathing loudly and spewed streams of cum into my beloved's mouth. Try as she might, she couldn't swallow it all, and the semen flowed down her chin onto her dress. As funny as it sounds, at that moment I thought that besides this dress, we hadn't brought anything else, and now it was stained.

I mentioned in the previous story that my wife likes rougher sex, bolder men, but this was no longer a role-playing rape game, and it was visible on Alina's frightened face, even though she conscientiously sucked him off.

"This city slut sucks excellently," San Sanych said with a smirk after pulling his cock out of Alina's mouth.

Misha, standing nearby, already had a full bulge in his pants:

"Get undressed, bitch," he said.

Alina obediently stood up and, unzipping her dress, started to pull it off. She wasn't wearing a bra, and after taking off the dress, she was left only in her panties and, straightening up, covered her breasts.

"You don't understand, get completely undressed," San Sanych barked and already raised his hand to slap her again.

Alina fearfully pulled down her panties and, holding them in her hand, stood before them, no longer covering herself.

"What's with this fashion of shaving pussies," said Misha, examining the thin strip of hair on her pubic area.

He approached, took her by the shoulder, and sharply turned her with her back to him, pushing her onto

the sofa:

"Get on all fours, bitch," Misha said in a voice hoarse with excitement, pulling down his pants.

Alina obediently got on the sofa on all fours, slightly arching her back. Misha, meanwhile, had pulled down his pants. His cock was a bit smaller than San Sanych's, but still very large; it stood stiff, and with its heavily swollen head, it looked like a mushroom on a thick, long stem. Holding it with his hand, he tried to enter Alina, but he couldn't manage. Finally, he inserted the head into her:

"Oh, this city bitch has a tight pussy, not like my Sveta's," he said and, taking her by the hips with his hands, continued to push into her.

"Look how she's flowing, bitch," San Sanych smirked. "And she was acting like a virgin."

Meanwhile, Misha got into it; with one hand grabbing her hair, he drove into Alina to the full length, and with the other, he spanked her ass so hard it turned red. Alina started moaning even louder. Misha started pounding her even harder, and I saw her begin to shake; my girl was coming, and she no longer cared that she was being raped. Misha pounded her for another minute and, with a kind of animal roar, pulled her hair so hard that her head jerked back, and he drove in to the hilt, froze, and started cumming inside my wife. When he let her go, Alina remained lying on her stomach, and Misha, taking her dress from the sofa, wiped his cock with it, cleaning off the semen and her fluids.

"Wipe yourself, whore, don't dirty the sofa," he threw the dress onto her back.

Alina, with dazed eyes, turned onto her back and pressed the dress to her red, swollen pussy, from which his semen was dripping.

"Go to the village and bring more vodka," San Sanych said to Misha after he pulled up his pants.

Misha went out, and I heard the car drive away. San Sanych, meanwhile, stood up, undressed, and lay down next to Alina. His cock was half-hard; he placed her hand on it. Alina, grabbing it, with an indifferent face, started jerking him off, while he, tossing aside her dress, kneaded her pussy with his big paws, shoving his fingers inside. After a while, his cock was fully hard; her hand could no longer grasp the shaft. He got up, took her by the legs, turned her towards him, spread them apart, and aiming his cock at her pussy, lay on top of her. The sofa creaked in rhythm with San Sanych's movements; Alina's face was turned in my direction, and I saw her wince in pain as he tried to insert his monster into her. She looked at the pantry door with a detached gaze, but after a couple of minutes of pounding, she bit her lip, closed her eyes, started moaning, and after a couple more minutes, she began to shake from an orgasm. He fucked her for a long time; I heard the car arrive and Misha come in with a bottle.

"Oh, you're not wasting time here," he laughed.

San Sanych, paying no attention to him, continued pounding my wife and, breathing loudly, finally came and lay on her for a minute. When he got up, like Misha, he wiped his cock with her dress, threw it between Alina's legs, and got dressed, while she just lay there. They sat at the table; Misha poured vodka for himself and him.

"Pour her one too, she's earned it," said San Sanych.

Misha poured, but Alina continued to lie there.

"Drink, or do you want another slap?" Misha sneered.

Alina sat on the edge of the sofa and drank but didn't eat anything. Misha leaned towards San Sanych and whispered something; no matter how I listened, I couldn't hear anything. San Sanych nodded, got up, and went out, while Misha sat and leered brazenly at my girl. San Sanych quickly returned and threw a wrinkled, dirty shirt onto the sofa:

"Put it on, we're going for a ride now, and don't be stubborn, or I'll hit you hard this time," he said threateningly.

"Where are you taking her?!" I yelled.

"Don't piss yourself, we'll bring your beauty back."

I yelled and cursed, but they didn't care. Alina, with drunken but frightened eyes, put on the shirt. Misha took her by the hand and pulled her outside after San Sanych. I heard the car drive away and was left in complete darkness, as they had taken the lantern with them. Turning on my phone's flashlight, I examined the door; to my disappointment, it was solidly built, and breaking or forcing it open seemed impossible. All I could do was sit on the floor and wait. An endless stream of thoughts and guesses ran through my head: where had these drunken idiots taken my wife, what were they doing to her? Time stretched like rubber; I kept listening, expecting to hear the sound of the car. I sat like that until the end of the night. It was starting to get light, and finally, I heard the car arrive. A door slammed, and it drove away. I pressed against the crack in the door; a minute later, Alina entered the room. I couldn't see her well, but she was alone:

"Open the pantry, sunshine," I said.

She slid the bolt, I came out and hugged her:

"Where did they take you? What did they do to you?" questions poured out of me.

"I don't want to talk about anything now," she said with a slurring voice. "I'm tired and I want to go home."

She reeked strongly of a mixed smell of alcohol fumes, semen, and urine. She was in the same shirt they had taken her in. I took it off and, turning on the flashlight, examined her. To my relief, there were no bruises on her body or face, only her buttocks were red from the spanking.

"I want to go home! Are you deaf?!"

"Okay, bunny, we're leaving now," I said and took her panties and dress from the sofa. The dress was all in dried semen, so I left it, ran outside to the car. The keys were in the ignition; I rummaged in the bag and got out my T-shirt.

She had curled up and fallen asleep on the sofa. I pulled her panties and T-shirt on her, picked her up, carried her to the car, and settled her on the back seat. She didn't even wake up.

It was already fully light when I reached the highway and turned towards home. Finally, I had service; I stopped and called Tolik back, saying we wouldn't be coming and that I'd explain everything later. Alina woke up; she was still tipsy:

"I want to wash up and go to bed."

"Hold on, sunshine, there should be a motel soon."

I sped up and asked the questions tormenting me:

"How are you? What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it now; I want to wash up and sleep."

We drove in silence to the motel; I rented a room, and Alina went straight in. She washed for a long time; I sat in the chair, and when she came out, I didn't dare look at her. I felt sick inside and didn't even know how to behave now. She came up to me, leaned over, and kissed me:

"It's okay, calm down, I'll tell you everything, but I need to sleep; I'm terribly tired."