Paul:

The disaster that was last weekend seemed to go on for ages. Rebecca, my wife, was pissed off by not getting the extra sex she wanted and probably needed. I didn't get anything at all; my wife refused to have anything to do with me at all. Steve being an asshole stopped me from watching Rebecca get screwed by Tony. I had no option but to throw myself into work, which was going well. The quicker I got it finished, after all, the faster life would return. Working all the hours, though, made me pretty horny when I finished work.

I was in a bit of a bind with entertainment. I had no money to do anything, the building had no wifi, and I could not afford anything except the cheapest phone contract with almost no data. Working for a bank, I could not even hotspot my phone into the bank system. I thought about using the laptop the bank provided me for about five seconds. Anything on there that was dodgy, like porn, was an automatic dismissal. In my position, that would screw me for the rest of my life, not just this job, as it was my only entry.

My only solution was to fake entry to Starbucks. I would pick up an empty cup outside, sneak in and use their wifi on my phone. It was still limited as Starbucks had a blacklist. But better than nothing. Then I had a lucky experience. Someone was in the other flats using a dongle to host their internet. For some stupid reason, they took off the password so that through the walls, I could connect up. I hooked up my spare old laptop and downloaded 20 videos or more from PornHub and other sites.

That's when I saw the Italian pornstar Zelda G for the first time. I initially saw her from behind; she had the same tattoo on the bottom of her back as my wife, Rebecca. Intrigued, I waited to see the rest of her, and I was shocked to see that she looked identical in every detail to my wife. She has a similar face, nose, cheeks, and hair colour. Size of breasts, overall height and weight. Honestly, she looked so similar that I wondered if my wife had a career I wasn't aware of. Until the credits rolled, and I saw that she was in Italy.

I became fixated. It was too late to use the dongle, as it was gone the following evening. So I tried all the free Wi-Fi I could find to search for her. I even took a chance to search for her on a straight entertainment site on my work laptop. I watched the three films I had of her over and over again. Ultimately, I figured I would have to wait until I went home and could use the wifi at our house to search. Time dragged slowly, and my fixation became worse. I watched the phone when I woke up at four in the morning.

You might find this odd, watching some porn star and having to see more of her, but this was my wife here. I had waited two whole years from my first aborted date with my eventual wife to a proper one that snagged her. I had watched guys kiss her, grope her and make her come at bars. I'd seen her suck cocks, take them in her pussy and her ass, sometimes all at the same time, Mostly before we had our first proper date. Mostly at ten or twenty yards distance, so the details were sketchy.

Here, Zelda G, my wife on the screen, was doing things I had seen my wife do in real life. Except this, it was in minute detail. A cock was plunging in and out of her ass, filling half the screen. That face was being pulled on and off a big black cock. Saliva, just like I had seen dripping off my wife's chin, was dripping onto the camera as she was stretched in every way imaginable. I just had to watch it all, knowing there was more to watch made me into a zombie. I just had to watch it, no matter what.

Tony:

I still could not believe that my colleague had such a hot wife or that she was such a great fuck. I checked Paul out, following him into the canteen, where he ate alone. I ensured he didn't see me by doing the following on our internal CCTV. I checked out his laptop, hoping for some leverage, but the only thing I found after a couple of weeks was a lookup of a porn actress, Zelda G. It was on a straight entertainment site; he could say it was a mistake if pressed. When I got home, I looked up her name, who looked like his wife.

I needed more, so when I got an access request on his behalf, I thought I could trap him. He needed to see the main data files kept on the mainframe. He could not even have them from his laptop as they were on a different circuit. So, I saw an opportunity. The mainframe access was on an old computer, a big, clunky terminal in the computer room. You didn't even sign on, access was physical, it was in a secure room which only the few could get to. I stuck spyware and a hidden webcam and moved the CCTV camera so it showed the user and the PC.

Paul:

My boss gave me better access to do my work, but I had to use an old PC in the machine room. It wasn't exciting, as I couldn't even bring coffee. I extracted my data directly from the server, downloaded it to the PC, and then put it on a stick to transfer to my laptop. On my third evening working there, I discovered the old PC had an internet connection. It was a bit convoluted, but you could do it. Three or four guys took it in turn to use the PC, so I figured I was pretty safe.

My desperation to see more of Zelda G overtook me. On Thursday evening, I worked late; nobody was around, and I felt safe. I loaded the stick, accessed the Internet and started downloading her films. I managed to fit twenty on my stick and closed down everything after deleting my tracks. When I got home that night, I watched four films end to end, masturbating furiously. It was just like my wife Rebecca was there on screen taking those dicks. Just like it was when I watched her on holiday.

I saw the rest over the weekend as it was one to stay in the city. I worked between times to stop myself from going mad. I could not talk to anyone, least of all my wife. 'Hi Rebecca, you will never guess, I've seen a doppelganger of you as a porn star, and I spent the weekend watching what I thought of as you fucking a hundred different guys and several women'. No, that conversation was not going to happen. Not even one of my mates from college or home could be party to that, either. I just kept it to myself.

I downloaded ten more on Monday night and the same on Thursday night. I was due to go home on Friday night, and I got a call from the Security guy late in the afternoon. He had a small problem, could I pop into his office before I left for the weekend. He explained where his office was and that I needed to enter via an intercom. It sounded all very sinister, and there was a niggle in my brain about it. I told myself it was nothing, I had been with the bank precisely three months, it was something to do with that.

When I got there and opened the door, I was astonished to see the bloke Tony who had fucked my wife four weeks ago. At least it looked like him; I only saw him in a dark bar and from behind, thrusting hard into my wife. The room today was very bright. He told me to sit down when he started to pass me photos. I am on a PC in the machine room. A website search for Zelga G. A list of downloaded files, both on the PC and my stick. Those files are being deleted. A picture of me with my hand down my trousers. I was fucked

Rebecca:

Paul came home tonight and told me what he had done. I was shocked by its crass stupidity, the potential total wipe-out of our lives, and the likelihood that he would never work again. He then explained what Tony had said next. The suggestion is that it might be swept under the carpet if Rebecca, his wife, did some things over the next couple of years that would get us out of the hole. I listened to the suggestions one by one. Paul was saying each one in such a submissive voice. I was soaking wet and got wetter as each demand was made.

Of course, I was going to do what Tony wanted. We, as a couple, had no choice. Paul understood he had no right to ask me to do them and was potentially thinking that I would not. They were probably too much to ask, especially as some were open-ended. That wasn't it for me at all. I was excited at the list; I would have carried them out without the blackmail as they were so horny, filling me with a desire for them to start tomorrow, not next weekend. I understood the blackmail was for Paul, not for me.

Last weekend when he was fucking me, Tony talked to me in a low voice. He told me I was wasted on Paul. If I were his wife, he would ensure all my sexual needs were met. He would make sure I finished each night satisfied. If not, it would deliberately keep me on edge for the next day. He told me what he might do. The same list, pretty much that Paul had just outlined. I had moaned at some of his darker items and kept silent for others. Tony had listened to me; only the items I moaned at were on the list.

Some of them were obvious that Paul understood. I was going to town every weekend, not just the planned initial ones. Tony would send me rail tickets. I would stay with him, not my husband. I would only get to my husband's flat when it was planned for me to have sex with someone else, not Tony. Maybe as well as Tony, but you get the picture. Tony would take me on holiday with him. Two weeks, one week and a few long weekends. Paul would not come with us. Tony would buy me clothes to wear out.

I could imagine what sort of clothes I would wear. He had described one dress he thought I should wear last weekend whilst we fucked. The tiny bikini he would parade me on a beach. I got wetter and wetter. I had to compose myself to Paul. I had to let him think it was nothing less than a nightmare for me. He had to think I was doing him a favour. He had to be grateful. He could never learn that I wanted to do this more than anything. Paul told me Tony wanted me to call him without him hearing.

Tony:

When Rebecca rang me, I wasn't sure what the response would be. She told me she was in the garden, so her husband could not hear what she said. She then agreed to all of my demands except one. She felt that Paul wasn't being punished enough, so I needed to tell him that I had changed my mind slightly and he was not to have any sexual relations with his wife the whole time, not even a handjob. Rebecca discussed a chastity device to ensure Paul kept to the bargain, and I put that away to think about. I liked it.

Next Friday, I told Rebecca to bring up in a suitcase all her slutty underwear, her slutty shoes and clothes. She should also bring some proper clothes for shopping or a restaurant. She should also take three long dresses, ideally with buttons or slits, and a coat to go over them. Plus, all her gym wear, to see what she usually used. I told her we would create a new person for her for the next two years, but she could return to being Rebecca from the small town anytime. And I agreed with her that Paul needed more punishment.