Raped in our house

This is part two of raped in the woods. Seems it's our destiny to encounter rapists.

Six months after the ordeal at the woods, our lives were back to normal. Or at least we pretended it did. My guilt over jerking off to my wife's rape was still there but I never confessed. Our bubble of peace was interrupted one night.

It was a quiet Friday night when the crash shattered the silence. My wife and I were lounging in the living room, half-watching some mindless TV show, when the front door burst open. Three black guys stormed in—big, muscled dudes in hoodies and jeans, their eyes wild with intent. They had masks pulled up, but I could see the menace in their grins. One had a crowbar, the others just their fists and sheer size."Don't move!" the leader barked, pointing the tool at me while his buddies flanked us.

I froze, heart pounding, as my wife gasped and clutched my arm. We were no match; they were built like boxers, probably in their early twenties. They grabbed me first, slamming me against the wall, zip-tying my wrists behind my back. My wife screamed, but one of them backhanded her lightly to shut her up, then bound her hands too. They dragged us both to the center of the room, ripping the coffee table aside to clear space on the carpet.

"Nice setup you got here," the leader sneered, his voice deep and mocking. He was the tallest, with a shaved head and tattoos peeking from his sleeves. "But we're gonna make it better." They started with our clothes. The second guy, stocky with dreads, yanked my shirt over my head, tearing it in the process. His hands were rough, shoving me down to my knees as he unbuckled my belt and jerked my pants and boxers down in one go. My cock flopped out, soft and exposed, and I felt the cool air hit my balls. I struggled, but a knee to my gut winded me.

They turned to my wife next. She was fighting harder, kicking and twisting, but the third guy—lean and wiry with cornrows—pinned her arms while the leader sliced her blouse open with a pocket knife. Buttons flew, revealing her lacy bra. He cut the straps, letting her full tits spill out, nipples hardening in the shock.

"Look at these," he laughed, squeezing one roughly until she yelped. The dreadlocked one hiked up her skirt, ripping her panties off with a sharp tug. Her pussy was bare, lips puffy from fear, a trimmed bush above it. They stripped her skirt away too, leaving her naked and trembling on the floor beside me.

Tied and nude, we knelt there helpless as they circled us like predators. My wife's breaths came in sobs, her body shaking, but I could see the flush creeping up her chest. The leader unzipped his jeans first, pulling out a thick, veiny black cock already half-hard, at least nine inches and girthy.

"You're gonna take this, bitch," he growled at her, grabbing her hair and forcing her face toward it. She clamped her mouth shut, but he slapped her cheek. "Open up."

The others followed, dropping their pants to reveal their own massive dicks— the dreadlocked one's curved and heavy, the wiry guy's straight and long, both dark and throbbing as they stroked themselves. They pushed her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. I watched, tied and unable to stop it, as the leader knelt between her thighs. He rubbed his cockhead against her slit, smearing her reluctant wetness, then thrust in hard. She cried out, her pussy stretching around his girth, as he buried himself balls-deep in one brutal push.

He fucked her relentlessly, hips slamming forward, his balls slapping her ass with each drive. "Tight little pussy," he grunted, pounding deeper. My wife's cries turned to moans against her will, her body betraying her as he hit harder. Her tits bounced with every thrust, nipples peaked. I stared, horrified, but my own cock twitched, blood rushing south. Why? The sight of her spread open, taken so roughly made me hard.

He didn't last long on the first round, but he made her come first. His hand snaked down, thumb circling her clit while he hammered away. Her back arched, a strangled scream escaping as her pussy clenched around him, juices squirting out. "Yeah, cum on that dick," he laughed, then pulled out and shot ropes of hot cum across her belly and tits.

No break—they passed her like a toy. The dreadlocked guy flipped her onto all fours, facing me so I could see everything. He spat on her cum-slicked pussy and shoved in from behind, his curved cock hitting her G-spot immediately. She whimpered, pushing back involuntarily as he gripped her hips, fucking her with short, powerful strokes. The leader grabbed her hair, forcing his still-hard dick into her mouth. She gagged, but sucked sloppily, tears streaming.

The wiry one stood beside me, stroking his long cock inches from my face, but his eyes were on her. Dreadlocks sped up, one hand reaching under to pinch her clit. Her body shuddered again, pussy spasming as the orgasm ripped through her. She moaned around the cock in her throat, muffled and desperate, her ass grinding back against the invasion. He groaned, flooding her cunt with his load, cum dripping down her thighs as he pulled out.

They weren't done. The wiry guy took her next, laying her on her side and lifting one leg high. His long dick slid in easily now, slick with their mixed seed, reaching depths that made her gasp. He fucked her slow at first, building rhythm, then faster, his hips snapping. The other two jerked off over her, cum from earlier still glistening on her skin. He whispered filthy shit in her ear—

"You love this cock, don't you?" —and she shook her head, but her hips bucked up to meet him.

Her next climax built fast, her breaths ragged, pussy fluttering. He pinched her nipples hard, twisting, and she broke—screaming as waves hit her, body convulsing, squirting again around his shaft. He thrust through it, then yanked out, spraying cum over her face and open mouth. She coughed, swallowing some, her eyes glazed.

Through it all, I watched, my dick rock-hard now, straining against nothing. The sight of my wife, used and cumming repeatedly on their cocks, had me throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the tip. They noticed, laughing as one kicked my legs apart.

"Look at hubby, getting off on this." I hated myself, but I couldn't look away, my erection betraying every twisted thought. My wife looked at me with sad eyes and I felt guilty but my dick remained hard.

The wiry guy with cornrows wiped his cum from my wife's chin, smirking as she lay there panting, her body slick and spent. Her eyes met mine for a split second—wide with shock, she looked away, chest heaving. The three of them stood over us, cocks still semi-hard and glistening, catching their breath. That's when the leader's gaze dropped to my lap. My dick stood straight up, rigid and pulsing, the head shiny with pre-cum. I tried to shift, to hide it, but the zip ties bit into my wrists, and my knees dug into the carpet.

"Yo, check this shit out," the leader said, his deep voice laced with amusement. He nudged my thigh with his foot, making my cock bob. "This boy's loving the show. Got a full boner watching us wreck his wife." The dreadlocked one laughed, a low rumble, and the wiry guy stepped closer, his long dick swinging as he crouched down. He grabbed my shaft roughly, giving it a squeeze that made me hiss through clenched teeth." Feels like he's ready to burst. Bet he's been dreaming about cock too."

I shook my head, panic rising. "No, I'm not—I'm straight. Stop this." But my voice cracked, weak against their grins. My wife whimpered from the floor, but they ignored her, focused on me now. The leader untied my wrists just enough to flip me onto my stomach, my face pressed into the rug, ass up. 'Straight or not, you're gonna take it,' he growled. The dreadlocked guy knelt behind me, spitting a thick glob onto my hole. His fingers probed, rough and invasive, pushing past the tight ring without warning. I bucked, yelling, but the wiry one pinned my shoulders, his knee on my back.

"Relax, bitch," dreadlocks muttered, working a second finger in, scissoring to stretch me. It burned, a sharp sting that made my eyes water, but my cock throbbed harder against the carpet, trapped and leaking. Why was my body doing this? I am not gay. The humiliation twisted in my gut, but the friction from grinding down sent unwanted sparks up my spine. They laughed at my squirms, the leader stroking his thick cock back to life while watching.

Dreadlocks pulled his fingers out, lining up his curved dick instead. He pressed the fat head against my ass, pushing steadily. 'Gonna split you open,' he said, and with a grunt, he thrust forward. The intrusion tore a gasp from me—his girth forcing my hole wide, inch after inch sinking in until his balls rested against mine. Pain flared hot, but beneath it, a pressure built, his curve hitting something deep that made my vision blur. He didn't wait, pulling back and slamming in again, setting a brutal pace. His hips smacked my cheeks, the sound echoing with my grunts.

The wiry guy shifted, shoving his long cock toward my face. "Open up, straight boy." I clamped my lips shut, turning away, but the leader grabbed my jaw, forcing it open. Wiry slid in, salty and thick on my tongue, pushing to the back of my throat. I gagged, choking as he fucked my mouth in shallow thrusts, his pubes tickling my nose. Spit drooled down my chin, mixing with tears. All the while, dreadlocks pounded my ass, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, pulling me back onto him.

My wife watched from the side, her bound hands twitching, a mix of horror and flush on her face. "Please... don't," she whispered, but it only spurred them on. The leader knelt by her, idly fingering her cum-filled pussy to keep her quiet, his eyes on me getting railed. Dreadlocks sped up, his breaths ragged. "Tight as fuck back here," he groaned, one hand reaching under to wrap around my cock. He jerked me roughly, matching his thrusts—twist on the upstroke, squeeze at the base. I hated it, the unwanted pleasure coiling low in my belly, but I couldn't stop the moans vibrating around the dick in my mouth.

Wiry pulled out suddenly, strings of saliva connecting us, and took dreadlocks' place behind me. "My turn to make him sing." Dreadlocks moved to my head, feeding me his ass-slick cock, the musky taste making me retch. Wiry's long shaft speared in deeper than before, angling to drag over that spot inside with every plunge. He was relentless, long strokes that bottomed out, his balls slapping mine. He pumped my dick faster now, thumb swiping the slit to spread pre-cum.

The build was inevitable, a pressure swelling despite my protests. I shook my head, mumbling around the cock, "No... stop... I'm not..." But my ass clenched around him, hips jerking back on instinct. Wiry laughed, leaning over to bite my shoulder. "Liar." He thrust harder, hand flying on my shaft, and it hit—the orgasm crashed through me like a wave, unwanted and massive. My cock erupted in his grip, spurting thick ropes of cum onto the carpet, body convulsing as waves of ecstasy ripped from my core. I cried out, muffled, every muscle seizing while he kept fucking me through it, prolonging the spasms until I was drained, shaking.

He didn't stop, chasing his own release. A few more deep pumps, and he buried himself, flooding my ass with hot jets of cum. It leaked out around his dick as he pulled free, warm and sticky down my thighs. Dreadlocks finished in my mouth next, holding my head as he unloaded, forcing me to swallow the bitter flood. The leader just watched, stroking himself to hardness again, a wicked smile on his face.

I collapsed, spent and humiliated, my body betraying me in the worst way. My wife reached out a tied hand toward me, tears in her eyes, but the night was far from over. They weren't done with us yet.

The leader hauled my wife up by her hair, her knees wobbling as she knelt between him and the dreadlocked guy. Cum still leaked from her pussy and mouth, streaking her thighs and chin. "Look at this filthy whore," he snarled, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a red print. She shook her head weakly, sobbing, but he shoved her forward onto all fours, her bound wrists straining. The dreadlocked one positioned himself in front, grabbing her jaw to force his thickening cock past her lips. She gagged as he pushed deep, her throat bulging around his girth, tears streaming down her face.

Behind her, the leader spat on her ass, rubbing the saliva over her puckered hole before lining up his massive dick. "Gonna fill this whore's holes again," he grunted, thrusting forward without mercy. Her body jerked, a muffled cry escaping around the cock in her mouth as he sank into her ass, stretching her tight. The wiry guy watched, stroking himself back to full hardness, his eyes on me sprawled on the floor, my own cum cooling beneath me. "Your turn, faggot," he sneered, kicking my legs apart.

I tried to crawl away, my muscles aching, but he pinned me down with his weight, flipping me onto my stomach again. "No... please, I'm not a faggot," I begged, voice hoarse, but he just laughed, spitting onto my sore hole. His long cock prodded, then shoved in deep, the burn reigniting as he buried himself to the hilt. I clenched around him, the intrusion forcing a groan from my chest despite the humiliation. He started pounding immediately, hips snapping against my cheeks, his balls slapping my own with each brutal drive.

Across from us, my wife was getting railed from both ends. The leader gripped her hips, slamming into her ass with wet smacks, his thick shaft disappearing into her over and over. "Take it, you dirty whore," he growled, pulling her back onto him harder. The dreadlocked guy fucked her face relentlessly, holding her head still as he thrust down her throat, her nose buried in his pubes. Drool bubbled from her lips, dripping onto the carpet, her body rocking between them like a ragdoll. Her tits swung with the force, nipples hard and red from earlier abuse.

The wiry guy's hand snaked under me, wrapping around my cock again. It betrayed me, hardening fast under his rough strokes, the head slick with fresh pre-cum. "See? Faggot loves getting fucked," he taunted, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, making me buck involuntarily. His dick dragged inside me, hitting that spot that sent sparks through my nerves, unwanted pleasure building low in my gut. I hated it, the way my ass gripped him, the way my hips pushed back just a fraction. My wife's eyes locked on mine over the dreadlocked guy's shoulder—pleading, broken—but her body trembled, a flush creeping up her neck as the double penetration overwhelmed her.

"This whore's pussy's empty," the leader said suddenly, pulling out of her ass with a pop. He shifted lower, ramming into her dripping pussy instead, the sudden switch making her scream around the cock in her mouth. Now dreadlocks in her throat, leader alternating between her holes—ass, then pussy, ass again—stretching her wide, cum from before squelching out with each thrust. "Double-stuffed slut," dreadlocks laughed, pulling her hair to deepthroat her harder. She choked, body convulsing, but her hips rolled slightly, chasing the friction despite the tears.

Wiry sped up behind me, his long shaft pistoning deep, hand jerking my cock in time." Cum for me, faggot. Show your whore wife how much you love dick." The pressure coiled tighter, my balls drawing up as he nailed that prostate relentlessly. I fought it, biting the carpet, but the orgasm hit anyway—fierce and shattering. My cock pulsed in his fist, shooting ropes of cum onto the floor again, my ass clenching around him in waves that milked his dick. I yelled, the sound raw, body shaking as ecstasy tore through me against my will.

At the same moment, my wife shattered too. Her body went rigid between them, a muffled wail vibrating around dreadlocks' cock as her orgasm ripped free. Her pussy and ass spasmed, juices squirting around the leader's thrusting shaft, soaking his balls. She bucked wildly, eyes rolling back, the forced climax leaving her limp and quivering. The men didn't stop, chasing their peaks. Leader buried deep in her pussy, groaning as he unloaded, hot cum flooding her womb in thick spurts. Dreadlocks followed, holding her head down as he erupted down her throat, forcing her to gulp it all.

Wiry tensed inside me, his rhythm faltering. "Fuck, faggot's ass is too good," he hissed, slamming in one last time. His cock throbbed, pumping load after load into my bowels, the warmth spreading as it overflowed, trickling down my crack. He pulled out with a satisfied sigh, leaving me gaping and leaking.

They finally stepped back, cocks softening, breathing heavy. My wife collapsed onto her side, cum oozing from her pussy and ass, dribbling from her swollen lips. I rolled over, spent and sticky, our eyes meeting in shared devastation—bodies dripping with their seed, the room reeking of sex and sweat. 'Good little fucktoys,' the leader said, zipping up. "We'll be back if we feel like it." They grabbed what little they'd come for—a wallet, some jewelry—and slipped out the door, leaving us bound, broken, and covered in their mess on the living room floor, bodies humming from forced orgasms.