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From: pokson@poboxes.com (ars erotica)
Subject: The Debt
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Author's note:

By and large the mail I get regarding my stories is positive.  However, I
have been getting a bit of mail telling me that writing about rape is nasty.
Well, to each his own.  I think stories about a sexual coming-of-age while
traveling with Great Aunt Edna are a snooze.   Unless of course there's a
rape, hahaha.  These stories represent fantasy, as does most of the erotica
on this forum, I devoutly hope.  Like it or not, rape and degradation
fantasies are quite common
and they aren't sick.  In fact, my husband the psychiatrist (yes, I'm
female) tells me they're quite healthy, providing a safe outlet as it were.
Now if you cross the line and actually rape or degrade someone, that's sick.
A healthy person reading and enjoying a fictional story based on rape is no
more likely to run out and rape than they are likely to indulge in
non-forcible sex with their husband/wife's old fraternity buddies/sorority
sisters after reading a
story based on the same.

So relax and get ready to read another sick rape/degradation story.  To
those who have written me re: The Brotherhood Files - send me some story
ideas and I'll whip some more up.  Bit of writer's block there.

***The Debt***
By Ars Erotica

I don't know why I'm telling this story.  Maybe to assuage my guilt, maybe
to just finally be able to get it off my chest.  I can never tell my wife
what I did to her.  She'd never forgive me, and she'd be right.

It was all my fault.  I'd had a problem, you see, a problem I wouldn't admit
to.  Gambling.  It started off slow, as it always does.  A few bucks on the
game, penny-ante poker.  I won at first, and like all gamblers I began to
think I was special.  I had a talent for it, I wasn't like those poor slobs
who lost everything because not only did I know when to quit, I almost never
lost.

My wife knew I gambled, but had no idea how serious it had become.  Tonya
trusted me implicitly, and as I invariably won she never thought much about
my gambling.  She never
knew how bad it had gotten, and still doesn't know how bad it was.  All
because of the terrible decision I'd had to make.

I won't bore you with the details.  Let's just say that like all gamblers,
my winning streak finally ended.  I lost big.  And after that big loss I
started "chasing", making bets to covers other bets.  I hid it from Tonya
for quite a while, swung some loans, even forged her signature on the loan
applications.  After a while I couldn't get a bank to lend me money, I owed
too much on too many other loans.  I was desperate, willing to do anything.
And that's the reason why I got mixed up with Sugar Hill.

Sugar was a loan shark, with more connection than a switchboard.  One of my
gambling buddies told me about him.  Sugar could get any amount of money you
needed, and I needed
a lot.  Thirty thousand dollars, to be precise.  Sounded good to me - I'd
borrow from Sugar, pay off all my debts then make one last, big bet to pay
Sugar off.  I had a month's time to
repay, and I thought I could do it.  Needless to say, I didn't make the
deadline.  And one fine April day, two large black men intercepted me in the
parking lot of my work as I was
leaving for home and brought me to talk to Sugar.

His goons dragged me into the hotel suite Sugar used for an office.  He was
sitting on a couch in the living room, waiting for me.  He motioned for the
goons to leave and they did.  I
was scared shitless.  I thought he was going to kill me, but not without a
good beating first.  Sugar was a huge man, almost seven feet tall and had to
weigh nearly 400 lbs, every inch of him shining black.  He'd kick the shit
out of my scrawny, 5'8", 130 lb ass in no time, I thought.

Sugar motioned for me to sit down on the couch opposite him.  A coffee
table, bare except for a single folder, separated us.  I sat there sweating,
ready to shit my pants.  He reached
forward, picked up and opened the folder, looked at it then at me.  Finally,
he spoke.

"So, Mr. Fred Benson.  I understand you are two months behind in repaying me
some $50,000."

"Wha...?" I squeaked.  "I only owe you $30,000!"

Sugar grinned at me, exposing startlingly white teeth.  "No, I'm afraid that
with interest and penalties for lateness you owe me an extra twenty K," he
said in his deep, resonant voice.

I'd forgotten about that.  "Please ... please," I begged.  "Give me some
more time.  I can cover it.  Just don't kill me.  I can't pay you back if
I'm dead!  And I don't even have any
insurance or real estate - I'm worthless!"  I was crying by that point.
This man was going to kill me, and Tonya would be left alone.  Sugar
surprised me though.  He merely grinned
again and said "Well Fred, you do have one asset.  Your lovely wife, Tonya."

He threw the folder at me, and told me to look in it.  Inside was a big
picture of Tonya.  It was a great picture of her at our apartment complex
pool.  It showed off her tall, shapely
tanned body, her lovely dark hair and beautiful face.  There was also a
sheet of information on her - age, birthdate, stuff like that.  I scanned it
quickly, then looked at Sugar.  My
quizzical expression must have told him that I didn't understand, because he
began to explain.

"Look, white boy.  You got yourself a fine woman there.  Finest I've seen in
a long time.  I want her.  Not to keep, mind you, but I want her."

"NO!" I shouted, leaping up.  "You leave her alone!  She's not involved in
this - you do what you want with me and leave her out of this!  I'll get
your money, just leave my wife alone!"

Sugar slowly stood up, towering over me.  "Sit down, white boy," he ordered.
I complied meekly.  "You ain't got much choice in this matter.  You got two
choices.  Either you let me fuck your wife or I'll just kill her.  That's
it.  I don't want my money back, an' I ain't taking it even if you got it.
Make your choice, white boy.  Let me fuck your wife or let me kill her.
Don't even think of going to no cops.  If you do she dies anyway.  You
should know that I have friends in high places, and I won't get arrested if
you talk.  You got five minutes to decide".

It was the longest five minutes of my life.  What could I do?  He was right
- no cop would dare touch him.  He was a legend around here, and owned every
cop on the force.  He had
all kinds of connections, and someday he'd make good on his threat even if
it took him years. I had only one choice to make.  "Okay," I whispered at
the four minute mark.  "You can ... you can ... fuck her."

"Glad to see you wised up, white boy,"  Sugar smirked.  "Now, don't you
worry none about when it's gonna happen.  I ain't telling you.  You go home
to that pretty wife of yours and
don't get any funny ideas bout moving cause I'll find you.  Now get the hell
out of here." I did as he said and left.

I couldn't even look at Tonya when I got home.  She was so beautiful, so
trusting and loved me, and I had just sold her to a loan shark.  I mumbled
something about a terrible headache, and went straight to bed, even though
it wasn't yet six o'clock.  I thought I'd get some sleep and then figure out
a way out of this mess.  Surely I had a little time.  Sugar would tell me
when it was supposed to happen, wouldn't he?  Tonya finally came to bed
around ten or so.  I hadn't been able to sleep, but feigned it when she got
in bed.  I couldn't face talking to her, not then.  In the morning I'd tell
her everything, and we'd work it out together.  She'd understand.  she knew
something was amiss, I had barely spoken to her in weeks, nor had we gone
out in weeks either.  We  hadn't made love in over a month.  I was too
preoccupied with my problems.

I never got the chance.  Right around 2 am I was jerked from the bed.  Large
hands battered me about as they slapped duct tape on my mouth and hogtied
me.  The room was suddenly
flooded with light, and through the glare I saw Tonya trying to get up.  A
huge black man, wearing a stocking mask hovered over her.  Oh my God, I
thought.  It was Sugar, coming to
collect his debt.  Two other men stood by our bed, probably some of his
goons.  One slapped duct tape over Tonya's mouth, but she still tried to
scream.

"Shuddup, bitch!"  Sugar growled at her.  "Keep on making noise like that
and I'll kill your man.  Leroy, " he gestured to the goon closest to me,
"Get on it!"  The good pulled a knife and held it to my throat.  Tonya's
eyes widened in fear, and she settled down.  God, I felt like shit.  My
beautiful wife was going to be taken by this man, and she shut up because
she didn't want ME to be hurt!

Sugar didn't waste any time.  He motioned to the other good, who immediately
tied Tonya's hands over her head to the headboard.  Sugar busied himself by
cutting off Tonya's
nightdress with a long, wicked looking knife.  He ripped her panties off
with his bare hands.  Lying next to her as I was, I could hear her small
moans of fear.  Her eyes were screwed
shut.  She knew what was going to happen.  She knew she was going to be raped.

Once Sugar had her panties off, he immediately unzipped his fly.  My God, I
thought.  He was huge!  Much bigger than my modest six inches, and much
thicker than me too.  He fell on
top of my wife.  The mattress moved with his weight.  Tonya began to cry as
Sugar fondled her body.  I lay there helplessly as he sucked at her breasts.
I tried to shut my eyes, but the goon holding the knife whispered in my ear
that Sugar wanted me to watch, or Tonya would die.  The bastard wanted me to
watch him rape my wife!  But what choice did I have?

None.  I lay there and watched as he slavered over her breasts.  I watched
him as he lay his huge cock in between my wife's breasts and ground himself
between them.  I watched as he ripped the tape of her mouth and rammed his
huge black prick into her mouth, working in and out for what seemed like
ages.  And then I watched as he roughly shoved her legs apart,
mounted my wife, and plunged into her.

I heard Tonya's muffled shriek of pain as the black man entered her.  I felt
our bed shake as he began to pump away furiously inside my beautiful wife.
I watched his buttocks rise and fall in rhythm as he pounded himself in and
out of my wife.  I heard his grunts of pleasure, and listened to him moan
his ecstasy as he raped my wife.  "Oh yeah ... that's it baby ... damn fine
piece of ass!" he gasped to her.  I watched while he covered her face and
neck with kisses as he boned her silly.  I smelled his sweat, and felt our
bed rock in response to his powerful thrusts.  I watched for what seemed to
be hours until his movements grew more frantic, and with a final moan he
drove himself deep inside her and came.  

Sugar and two goons left right after Sugar got off of my wife.  They left us
tied there.  And there we stayed until late the next evening, when Tonya's
sister Amy (who had a key) came
by, worried because Tonya hadn't shown up for the dinner date they'd
planned.  I don't remember much of that time.  The cops came, we went to the
hospital, we gave our statements and of course I didn't say what I knew.  It
was too late to change anything.  A week after my wife was raped, I found a
receipt on my car window.  It was from Sugar, saying my debt had been paid
off.  There it was.  Now all I could do was to get on with my life.  We were
in counseling, and Tonya was doing better.  We'd go on, we'd make it through
this.  Seeing my wife raped because of my stupid addiction was enough to
make me get help for my problem.  We'd make it through.

It wasn't to be.  Two months after the rape, Tonya told me with an ashen
face that she was pregnant.  Two months pregnant.   We had feared this.   We
always used condoms, and much later we'd learned that she had never been
given a morning-after pill because some stupid nurse had forgotten to give
it to her.  We hadn't made love in three months, first because of my worry
over my debts and then because of the rape.  It has to be HIS baby, she
sobbed.  It was the worst time in my life.  My wife was pregnant with Sugar
Hill's baby, and it was all my fault.  I wanted to die.

Tonya had a hard time dealing with her pregnancy at first.  Abortion was out
of the question for her, she was very against it in all cases.  She told me
that she was going to carry and give birth to her rapist's baby.  Then she
would give it up for adoption.  I agreed - God knows I didn't want to be
raising Sugar's child!  It was bad enough watching my wife's belly swell
with another man's baby.  We had no sex life.  How could I make love to her,
knowing that she was carrying sugar's child?  The sooner it was adopted, the
better, I felt.

Sugar, of course, had other ideas.   I don't know how he knew that he'd made
Tonya pregnant, but he did.  When she was five months along, he again
summoned me to his hotel suite.  He
gave me the name of an adoption agency, and told me to send Tonya there or
else.  I assumed he wanted his child to go to a specific home, so I thought
nothing of it and told Tonya to go
there.  She did, and after her second counseling appointment I realized what
his plan was.

After her second appointment, Tonya began to get into being pregnant.  Up
until then she'd resisted talking about the baby, other than to say she'd
get rid of it when it was born.  If a stranger in a supermarket
congratulated her, she'd start to cry.  That slowly changed.  She began to
talk about the baby.  If someone congratulated her on her pregnancy she's say
thanks.  She enjoyed shopping for maternity clothes.  Finally, when she was
six months pregnant, she sat me down for a talk.

She had decided to keep the baby, she said.  Her counselor had told her that
mixed babies almost never got adopted, and would spend years in foster care.
Tonya didn't want that to
happen.  Yes, the baby's father was a rapist, but she was still it's mother.
She felt that she could love the baby, even if it had been sired by a
rapist.  She hoped I would understand and support her.  Well, of course I
did though I wasn't happy about it.  The whole thing was my
fault anyway.

So, I supported her.  I acted happy about her pregnancy.  I bit my lip when
she warbled on about what to name "our" baby.  As it turned out, Sugar had a
hand in that too.  Of course
he'd sent me to that agency because he had someone planted there who would
convince Tonya to have and keep his child.  He told me that at another
meeting between us.  And he
told me he wanted me to have the kid named Theodore if it was a boy, after
Sugar's grandfather.  Fortunately Tonya liked the name.  And that's what we
named the kid.  Nine months after Sugar raped her, Tonya gave birth to his
son.  We got a lot of funny looks from the nurses - a white couple with a
very black son, but Tonya was thrilled.  I pretended I was too.

That was sixteen years ago.  Teddy's a strapping young man now, and he looks
exactly like his father except a bit lighter, though he doesn't know this.
We told him we adopted him. We had to do this, for his sake and the sake of
our other children - we've since had two girls. Sugar still keeps an eye on
Teddy - he gives me money on the sly for the support of his son. Tonya still
has no idea that her rape and Teddy's conception were my fault.  And she'll
never know - if I have anything to say about it.

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