The Directors

She strained upward against the ropes, rapidly covering every inch of the black cock with spit, as eagerly as if she was worshipping the original real cock. After teasing her pussy for a few seconds and making her beg for it, he began to push it inside. He literally had to screw it into her, so tightly did it fit. Each twist of the dildo elicited a delighted squeal from her, and it was so long, and so tight, it took quite a while to work it all the way in. When he was done, her pussy lips were seemingly stretched to the limit, the skin painfully tight, her clit taut against the veined black surface. Anytime he touched or moved it would cause her to moan loudly in pleasure, a discovery he tested again and again.

Grabbing the camera, he moved in close to photograph the shaft now splitting his wife wide open. Occasionally she would complain about the time he was taking. In response, a simple twist or flick of the dildo would send her into paroxysms of pleasure, distracting her for a few minutes each time. Finally, after recording all he could, he moved back to the head of the bed and rewarded her with his cock in her mouth.

The phone rang. Ted's first thought was to ignore it. Probably just a wrong number. The only person who had this number was... shit, his mother-in-law. Which meant something about the kids. Which meant that if he didn't answer, and it was something wrong with the kids, then he'd feel guilty for life, and Melissa would rightly blame him for thinking with his dick instead of his head.

"Hello?" he said, bringing the phone to his ear while trying to keep his balance and his cock in his wife's soft, hot mouth.

"That big black dildo looks so hot in your wife, um, Melissa's cunt," a stranger's voice said to him.

What. The. Fuck?? He quickly disconnected the call and stared at the phone in his hand. It immediately rang again.

This time the voice started speaking without waiting for him to say anything. "Now, Ted, that was very rude of you. Though I guess I can cut you some slack, since all you were expecting was an evening of stuffing that black dildo that you bought last week from, um, Adam and Eve, into your wife's hot pussy, and then later replacing it, I would guess, with your own cock. And now you're faced with this."

Ted looked wildly around the room. Clearly someone was watching them, but he couldn't see how. The drapes were pulled shut. A camera behind the mirror maybe? The voice, clearly a man, though it was hard to tell how old, continued to speak and he had to force himself to concentrate.

"Yes, clearly we're watching you," the voice said as if in reply to Ted's unasked question. "I'm especially impressed with the fact that you're making your wife continue to suck your cock while all this is happening. That kind of focus is going to be important later on."

Ted looked down. It was true. Melissa was still ardently attending to his stiff rod, coating it in kisses and sucking on any patch of skin she could get her lips on. She paused for a moment, her eyes sharpening a bit. "Who is it, hun? Is it the kids?"

"No, not the kids," he assured her. He watched as her eyes lost their focus and became dreamy again as she went back to the important task of gobbling up as much of his dick as she could.

"Is this blackmail?" he said sharply into the phone.

"No, not blackmail. More like an even exchange of goods and services. You'll do what we ask you to, and in exchange you'll get free use of the room for the weekend and a video record of a weekend you'll remember for the rest of your life. Now," the man's voice got much sharper, "If I was in your shoes, I'd be wondering just how fast I could pack up my wife and luggage and get the hell out of this hotel. And just how far away the nearest police station is."

Ted nodded unconsciously at the phone. Those had been his thoughts.

"But we've already put in place some incentives to help keep you around for the weekend. It's clear we already know your name, and your wife's, and those of your children, and where you bought that huge dildo. But our incentives are much more compelling than that. In fact, they're arriving right... about... now."

There was a loud knock on the door, startling Ted so much he turned away from the bed, pulling his dick from his wife's protesting mouth.

The voice continued to sound from the phone, "Don't worry. You don't need to answer the door in the nude. You'll find there's a manila envelope on the floor by the door. I'll wait on the line while you go get it. Then bring it back to the bed and we'll go through it together."

Still dazed, Ted struggled to control his rapidly racing mind. A camera. It had to be. Sound too? But why the phone? Maybe they could listen, but wanted to keep conversations private? He had to will himself to walk to the door. He didn't want to leave his wife there, trussed to the bed, her legs open where anyone could see her pussy straining to hold that black dildo. The voice had said "we" and it had said "I." Which was it? Were there more of them? How many? How trustful? How dangerous?

He forced himself to walk to the door, pick up the envelope and return to the bed. He was tempted to look through the contents on his own, without that voice. But if he hung up, they'd just call again. If he let the phone sit, they'd hang up and he'd get that annoying buzzer thing. He realized that in order to figure all that out, his mind must be working better. He was no longer in shock. He could listen to what they had to say.

"Thanks for not hanging up," the voice said. "That gets so annoyingly tiresome. So, open the envelope and listen to my pitch. We try to make it as equal as possible, but of course it's not, because in the end you're being forced to perform for us. That first picture pretty much cuts to the heart of it."

Ted stared down in renewed shock. It was a picture of his wife, from not more than a few minutes ago, naked and tied spread-eagled on the bed, the black dildo clearly visible bulging from her pussy, her face distorted by rapture but clearly recognizable, his cock poised like a snake, ready to pierce her lips and be devoured by her mouth. If it would've been a picture of any other woman, his response would've been a quick hardening of his dick. Instead, he felt a cold shiver go through him. The next pictures were smaller in size but even more damning. Melissa, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, adroitly licking his balls as if they were the last meal she'd ever consume. Ted, taking intimate pictures of the inside of her cunt, his face clearly visible, leering at her helpless nakedness. A close-up -- how'd they get that? -- of his throbbing cock entering her swollen cunt. And her face, lost in the throes of orgasm, as he screwed the dildo into her tight hole. There was no doubt that she enjoyed, welcomed, being treated like a wanton slut.

"Clearly we have cameras everywhere to catch you in the act. I'm so glad you aren't trying to secretly record our conversation with your cellphone, like one of the last couples. There's not a part of the room that you can be in that we can't see. Though we have provisions for use of the toilet, if that bothers you too much. In any case, the next few pages show just a fraction of how much we know about you and Melissa. Your kids' school, their teachers, your church -- which seems to take a decidedly negative view on the things you're doing this weekend -- your place of employ, Melissa's volunteer activities, friends, family, acquaintances, credit card purchase history... Oh, I hope you brought along that other toy you bought at the same time as the dildo still sticking out of your wife's slit.

"Of special importance are the email and snail mail addresses of all these people. Which brings us to our incentive. The carrot and stick combined, I guess. Either you and Melissa follow the direction that we give you on the phone for the next two evenings, or we send these pictures, and more like them, out to every family member, friend, church congregation, school teacher, acquaintance, work colleague, volunteer and company we can find an address for. Every one. All at once. And there'd be no way to stop it."

"But you'd expose yourself and your little operation," Ted ventured, seeing a possible way out.

"We could. That's the risk we take. But, we'd be well clear of our operation before anything could happen to us. We'd pack up and go. Find another location. But along the way, we'd also deploy our failsafe, which unfortunately, is more like a club than a mere stick. Because, if you decide to take your chances, and think you can spin her exposure to the point where everyone sees you as a victim and not a pervert, then we'll do this: We'll add your wife's name, address and phone number to the dirtiest pictures we can find in our archive, and distribute them to the kinds of sites where men don't often know the difference between fantasy and reality. And we'll add the caption: 'Come see me. I love to be dominated.' And no matter where you move -- and you'll have to move, because these perverts are relentless -- we'll change the address to your new one. You can see the enormity of that, I'm sure."

"But how can I trust you?" Ted asked, trying to reason out the whole scheme. "What's going to stop you from destroying our lives anyway? Unless you've been doing this awhile..."

"I knew that you were smart when we first started talking," the man said, a note of triumph in his tone. "Yes, we've been doing this awhile. More than five years. With a different cast of characters than now, except for me, but all completely trusted to keep their mouths shut. Incentivized to do so, in fact. And the fact that we're still here shows that we know how to keep our word. Because if we broke our word, what would stop our guests from getting word to the police? Nothing."

Ted paused for a moment when his wife moaned. "I neeeeeed it," she pleaded, writhing against the ropes. There was still an out here, but he needed to think a moment without being interrupted. Sitting on the side of the bed, he grabbed the bottle of baby oil they'd brought along and dribbled it over Melissa's bare breasts, drawing a long sigh of pleasure from her. With his free hand, he massaged the oil over her breasts, absently paying extra attention to the hard nuggets of her nipples.

"Nice," the voice on the phone said, apparently in response to his ministrations.

"Well," Ted said, gathering his thoughts for his last argument, "All that adds up. Except for one thing. if you're lying about this being your fifth year, and this is just the first time you're trying this scam, then we're at an impasse. Because there's no way I know that I can trust you. And I'll have to take my chances and split, putting all the risk on you, because you'll be the one going to jail for a long, long time."

He waited for an answer, barely daring to draw a breath. This had to work. Because if it didn't...

Unexpectedly, a laugh barked from the phone handset. "I like you Ted. You're one of only a few with the smarts to figure this out to that point. Without my prodding them, of course. But I do have proof for you. First, take a look around you. Does this room look like the typical room in this hotel chain? And make sure you take a close look at the bed spread."

Ted looked around more closely. He hadn't paid much attention before, but the décor definitely didn't have that sameness common to all hotel rooms. The wall lamps were different. The pictures looked like original art. And the bedspread was definitely not from any hotel room he'd ever stayed in.

"The bed spread was sewn specifically for this room, for this purpose. And, for the record, there are five of us on this project now. Three guys and two girls. You'll get to know the women soon. They're very creative. Back to the point, I notice you've got some very nasty porn on the TV. But I have something better to show you. Turn to channel 183. The remote is right next to the phone. Got it? Now, all these pictures were taken in that very same room, on that very same bed. And you'll notice that we've blurred out all the faces. Another sign that we'll never reveal your identity to anyone. This is some of the best action from the last five years."

Ted watched, mesmerized, as photo after photo flickered onto the screen, cross-dissolving to the next and the next and the next. A blond woman with huge tits and a baseball bat stuck in her pussy. A woman getting anal mounted by a gleeful, hairy backed man. A shapely woman with long, long brunette hair taking a cumshot all over her head. A woman with a strapon assfucking her husband. A woman with clothespins attached all over her tits. The images went on and on. And all were apparently shot in this room, evidenced by the photos on the walls, the bedspread, and even the kind of phone being used.

"Why us?" Ted had to ask, watching all those people on screen with nothing in common except a seeming love of fucking.

"Ah, that would be giving away trade secrets," the voice chuckled. "I can say that it wasn't entirely random. And that some weekends, that room does stay disappointingly empty."

Ted continued to knead Melissa's oil-covered breasts, his mind occupied not so much by the thought of being watched, but rather by calculating the odds of the various options at his disposal. Unfortunately, the option that had the highest probability of doing the least damage was the worst one: going along and trusting the voice on the phone. He grimaced, took a deep breath, and put the phone back to his ear.

"So, how exactly does this work?"

"I knew that you'd see reason," the voice replied. "And thank you for not threatening to find and kill us, and for not offering a bribe. That gets so tedious. Anyway, it's pretty easy. There's a wireless headset with a mike built into it that we can use to communicate, so you don't have to hold the phone the whole time. We'll make suggestions, you'll do them, we'll film the action. Then, tomorrow morning you'll get a list of 'items' to buy during the afternoon. We'll get back to it tomorrow night. And you checkout on Sunday, with your room comped and a DVD of the highlights of your weekend adventure."

Ted could see no way out. On the TV, the images of the past victims had been replaced with a video of four men gangbanging a helpless girl, desperately trying to keep them all satisfied. He could only hope that this weekend wouldn't end up like that.

"OK," he replied, resigned to his new status as porn actor.

"Good. First, put on the headset. It's in the second drawer of the bed table, pushed to the back."

Once Ted had the headset on, it was a simple matter of clicking over to a new line. He wondered if the signal was very strong and protected in some way, or if anyone could hack into it. That, he decided, might give him an opportunity to record these conversations without the spy camera catching him. Cameras, he corrected himself. Those images had revealed more than the variety of victims. They also showed that the room was covered by a variety of cameras, covering the bed, sofa, desk, closet, bathroom and shower from a number of angles. If he was going to try and record the conversation, he would have to hide the recorder in a piece of luggage. Or put it outside in the car.

"We have a couple of ways to explain this to your wife..." the voice started to say, but Ted shook his head and turned to his wife.

"Honey, I have some bad news for you," he whispered dramatically, holding his hand over the mike. "There's some blackmailers on the phone. And if we don't do every perverted, depraved, nasty thing they order us to do, things are going to get very bad for us. So even though we were just going to watch TV, now we have to get really, really dirty."

Her eyes went bright. "Blackmailers forcing us to do all kinds of nasty things? You're right, we have to do whatever they say. I hope they don't make you spank my ass and then fuck it. That would be awful." She looked up at him with a seductive smile and inviting eyes. She liked this game.

"Nice," the voice said again. It was evidently his favorite word. "So, let's get started. There's a little digital camera taped to the back of that same drawer. I'm gonna need you to take a lot of the same pictures you took before. Especially the ones with that dildo stuck in her cunt. And don't be afraid to get artistic. We'll let you know if you miss anything."

As Ted once again photographed his wife's nude body, he was acutely aware that this time he was doing it on the orders of someone else. Someone who would be studying the pictures in full HD color. And jacking off to them. And maybe even cumming all over them. Melissa, however, didn't seem to be at all concerned that he was taking another set of pictures. She even suggested a few new ways for him to take pictures of her nude body. To keep the blackmailers happy, she said.

"Take that dildo out of her," the voice in his ear ordered.

Ted did as he was told, this time having to slowly unscrew it from his wife's stretched pussy, making her squeal and pant in a combination of pain and pleasure. It left her pussy hole wide open, and he took the opportunity to photograph the deep recesses with both cameras. Despite his best efforts to think about how he was being forced into this situation, the graphic raunchiness of it was turning him on.

"Untie her and put her on her hands and knees," the voice said tonelessly. He followed those orders, then, with new directions, moved behind her to pull open her pussy lips, stretch her ass cheeks apart, and have her push her ass up, so the watchers could get better views of her most intimate areas. It was all stuff he would've had her do himself, but being ordered to do it made him feel angry and impotent, and worse, unable to protect his wife.

"She needs to be fucked," the voice commented.

She did. Ted could see it, just by the way she waited so submissively. Fucked like a dog. Like a bitch. Fucked hard and reminded of how hard he was working to at least try and protect her. He didn't need to ask for permission from her or the watchers. The sight of her round rump stuck up in the air brought his cock back to its full erectness, filling and thickening and lengthening it, making the mushroom cap head almost as big as the balls behind it. He clambered up onto the bed, knelt behind her and drove his cock deep into her, past her swollen pussy lips, past her stretched cunt hole, until he felt her hot, wet cunt walls contract against the hard exterior of his rigid shaft.

He fucked her firmly, with a vengeance, slamming into her hard enough to redden her ass as if she was being hand-spanked. She yelped and panted with every stroke, her head sinking lower and lower so he could get deeper and deeper into her fuck hole. Now the thought that other eyes were watching them became a welcome turn on. This is how you fuck a woman, he sent their way telepathically. This is how you take her and use her and make her serve you. This is how you pleasure her and control her and possess her. He fucked her with all the anger of being controlled. He rammed her and reamed her. And took her. He took her hard.

Finally, after several minutes of raping the body below him, he pulled his throbbing cock out of her pussy, her cunt again gaping open, the muscles stretched and unresponsive. She remained there, moaning, her ass swaying slightly, the round cheeks stretched taut, her holes fully exposed. In the kind of book that would document the sexual habits of humans, this picture of his wife from behind would be used to demonstrate the posture that female humans take when showing complete submission to their male partner. The sight of her pussy and ass fully exposed under the room lights ignited his passion again. After letting a couple of drops of oil drip onto her pinched anus, he stood above her and viciously crammed his cock into her anus, penetrating to the hilt in one solid stroke. Her scream, a mixture of pleasure, lust and pain, echoed through the room. The voice in his ear was thankfully silent.