Cruel Retribution

Abstract

This work is a product of the author's sick imagination and has nothing in common with reality. All characters, names, surnames, geographical names, and names of any establishments and firms are fictitious, and any coincidences with real ones are accidental.

Persons with mental illnesses, pregnant women, and those under 18 are not recommended to read, as the text contains explicit sexual scenes and scenes of violence in places.

All characters in the work are adults.

They both sat on the bed—husband and wife, heads bowed. In front of them, lounging

in an armchair and toying with a butterfly knife, sat a young man of Caucasian appearance, one leg crossed over the other.

The second, clearly larger than the first, also a Caucasian, stood in the doorway, lazily leaning against the doorframe and scratching his short beard. His short leather jacket was open, and a shoulder holster with a pistol inside was clearly visible underneath.

The first man stopped playing with the knife, spread his legs apart, leaned forward, and asked the married couple in an insinuating voice:

— Well, what are we going to do? Since you have no money, how will we settle the matter?

—

Semyon and Rita had been married for two years now. They had known each other for a long time, since school. And although the guy was a couple of years older than the girl, they moved in the same circles, often visited mutual friends, but there was no spark between them that instantly and irrevocably brings young people together and throws them into the arms of passion.

Rita dreamed of travel, distant countries, and beautiful resorts, so she entered the institute for tourism. Semyon had dreamed since childhood of having his own restaurant, so he graduated from the restaurant management faculty at the same university, but a little earlier than the girl.

Semyon tried by hook or by crook to raise money to open his own restaurant. But the most he managed was to open a small cafe, which he made profitable fairly quickly, but realizing his dream was still far off.

A year before their sudden meeting, Semyon lost his father. It happened suddenly—some kind of blood clot, and now he was sitting in a notary's office, inheriting. His mother had divorced his father while he was finishing university and flew abroad with her lover. Since then, he hadn't heard anything more about her.

Rita accidentally walked into Semyon's cafe; she was mourning her grandmother. She had passed away suddenly three days earlier. Rita's parents had died in a car accident while she was still in school, and her grandmother had raised and supported the girl. And now there was no one to do that.

Noticing the crying girl at a table in the cafe, Semyon approached her, somehow thinking they were acquainted. And so it turned out.

Rita found the much-needed support in the young man. They started dating, and after six months of the relationship, Rita first moved in with Semyon and then married him.

After a small, modest wedding, attended only by a few student friends of the young couple, Semyon decided to seriously get into business.

Rita inherited a two-room apartment from her grandmother, and Semyon got a similar one from his father. By that time, he himself was living in a small rented Khrushchev-era apartment.

The young couple decided to move into Semyon's father's apartment, sell Rita's two-room apartment, and invest the money in a restaurant. And so they did...

A little over a year later, Semyon finally got a restaurant. But it required large investments. The man searched for money for a long time and eventually took out a loan secured by the apartment.

But even that money wasn't enough. More was needed. Loans weren't being given. The man ran himself ragged looking for a large sum of money, and one day, almost by chance, he got what he wanted. He was given fifty thousand dollars, with a six-month deferment on interest payments. True, he was given forty-five, but he signed a promissory note for fifty.

And now, six months later, the restaurant was operating and had become profitable. It was time to pay the interest. A lot, a hundred thousand a week. Semyon thought he could handle it. And he would have, if he had a few more weeks in reserve...

But... by the time their doorbell rang in the evening and these two Caucasians entered, introducing themselves as debt collectors, he didn't have a hundred thousand...

—

— Since you have no money, we need to punish you. We can't go back and tell the one who sent us that we did nothing. We simply must show that we worked, that we tried to squeeze money out of you, Semyon. Understand?

The man, without raising his eyes, nodded, agreeing with Said.

— Then I can only offer two options. Either we break one of your arms, purely as a precaution, or one of you two sucks.

Semyon, turning pale, raised his head to look at the speaker.

— What?!..

— You heard, dear, you heard well. Either we break your arm or your wife's, or you or your wife suck us off. The choice is yours, decide.

— But... what does she have to do with it?

— Because even by law, all credit obligations extend to both spouses, ask any lawyer, — the Caucasian answered tiredly.

— But...

— Let's skip these "buts," dear, okay? Just decide, which one of you will suck or whose arm we break and which one, we don't care. And faster, because patience is already running out. We'll break both your arms and you'll both suck. So it's fair. Well!..

Semyon stared with a hunted look at Rita's face, pale as chalk. No, watching his beautiful wife, his most beloved creature on this planet, give blowjobs to two Caucasians was beyond his strength.

— Me, — the man said quietly, averting his gaze from his wife.

— Semyon, — Rita suddenly called him in a pleading voice, barely audible.

But the man didn't even turn his head; he had made his decision.

— Me, it will be me.

— What? Arm or suck? – clarified Said.

Semyon raised his eyes to him, full of determination.

— Suck. I'm ready.

— Excellent!

The pleased Caucasian got up from the armchair and stepped towards Semyon.

The belt buckle jingled, then the zipper squeaked briefly, and now a penis appeared from the lowered pants and underwear. Not yet engorged with blood, moderately thick, with wrinkled skin at the tip.

— Get to it.

Semyon reached out his hand and quite boldly grasped Said's warm organ. He moved his hand along it a couple of times, hesitating to take the final step. Rita sat next to him, staring at how her husband was touching another man's genitals, and seemed to have even forgotten how to breathe.

— Come on, be bolder, dear!

Semyon made up his mind. He leaned forward slightly, closed his eyes, and enveloped the head of Said's penis with his lips...

—

They came again three days later. There was no money. And then Said offered a choice: break legs or fuck in the ass. Who—again, it didn't matter, both have legs and an ass.

Semyon couldn't allow his beloved to be raped before his eyes by these scumbags...

—

Sweaty, naked Said finally growled, jerked his whole body once, twice, pressing his pubis against Semyon's bare buttocks, and froze. He wearily pulled his condom-covered penis, filled with whitish fluid, out of the man's ravaged anus, slid off the bed, and stood up. He disdainfully pulled off the rubber and threw it on the floor.

He turned his head to Rita, who had fallen silent in the armchair:

— Well, that's all, and you were afraid.

He smiled broadly, sat on the bed, and began, unhurriedly, to get dressed, picking up the scattered clothes from the floor.

— Your husband earned a week's reprieve. With his own ass. Good job.

Said chuckled, slapped Semyon's buttock loudly with his palm.

— We'll come in a week. If there's no money—we'll fuck you first, then your wife. Or we won't touch her, but break your legs. The choice is yours, Semyon. So better find the money, try.

Said and his accomplice left without saying goodbye.

Rita sat silently in her armchair for a long time, tears streaming down her face. Finally, she timidly climbed onto the bed to her naked husband. He didn't even turn towards her.

The woman gently stroked his head.

— Darling... Let me suck you, want me to? – she whispered quietly in his ear.

— Better buy a strap-on and fuck me in the ass, — Semyon answered her bitterly, not turning around.

—

A year and a half passed...

—

— I'm in my seventh month. I'll give birth in two months...

Rita lowered her eyes and stroked her stomach through the fabric of her sundress.

— Forgive me... — Semyon began, but his wife interrupted him.

— No, I'm to blame myself. And even more than you think.

— No, I...

— No! – Rita interrupted him sharply again, — Listen to me...

She stared at him with eyes that had suddenly become angry, and he yielded to her.

— Back then... You needed money, the restaurant was losing money, but loans weren't being given and no one would lend either. Too large a sum was needed. And I found Ashot...

— But it was me...

— Don't interrupt, please. It wasn't you who found Ashot, it was me. Remember Gulya? Well, that girl from your course, all so... lively?

Semyon nodded, remembering his student years.

— I somehow became friends with her, by chance, we were in the same company a couple of times. And then I ran into her at work, she was buying tours abroad, for vacation. I even gave her a discount for old times' sake.

Anyway, word got around, and she told me she was seeing a rich sugar daddy, he didn't spare money on her. And he works for a serious guy who makes money by lending... Understand now?

Semyon nodded, guessing what was coming.

Indeed, that rich sugar daddy of Gulya's came to his restaurant with her then, and they celebrated some event, and there he promised to talk to Ashot. And, in the end, he gave the money.

— Yes, I found the money for the restaurant. I didn't want to tell you, you wanted to do everything yourself. And I was sure then and now that you would succeed. So I'm to blame myself. I myself brought Ashot and that damned... loan to you.

— Rita, it's nothing...

— That's not all.

The woman sighed, gathering her strength—it was clear that it was hard for her to tell.

— If you don't want to, you don't have to explain anything.

— No! I must, I want there to be no misunderstanding between us. I want you to know everything... I can't tell everything now, later... But something right away, while I've gathered my courage.

She paused, then continued.

— When they came... to take me, I didn't resist. I didn't even think about it. I understood that next time they... would do something to you. That you would refuse, trying to protect me, and that it wouldn't end with just... sex. They would really break your legs or... worse.

Semyon swallowed and looked away. He didn't want to remember sucking Said off at all. Especially how his penis entered Semyon's ass, and his wife watched it all.

— I understood that they would rape me anyway, it was clear as day. And I decided to submit, so that you... So that you would be okay.

Semyon shuddered at her words, his heart aching.

— I packed my things and left with them. Somewhere far away, outside the city, to a cottage. They had like a base there, many people lived there constantly. At least seven. They gave me a room. When I saw it, I was very surprised, because there were all these lights on stands around... It looked like they were shooting porn there. I already guessed then that it would all end with that. But I had hope that you would manage to pay...

— I...

— Don't interrupt!

She paused again, stroked her stomach, and, without looking at Semyon, continued:

— I think you noticed in the broadcasts that I was enjoying it. Yes, that's true. I was ashamed, very much, but I couldn't help myself. These... highlanders knew how to turn me on. And the fact that every new day it all... developed, became more... depraved, I even liked it. Yes, I liked it... And especially that you saw it all.

She paused, glancing briefly at her husband, but he was silent, turned away.

— I know you rewatched the recordings. Said showed me the view counts. And the link was personal, only for you. No, I'm not blaming you, I understand that you jerked off. What else was left? It's normal, to get aroused and cum.

Semyon sat red-faced, shame preventing him from raising his eyes.

— They didn't force me. They offered, and I agreed. Probably that's why they didn't beat me, didn't yell at me. Probably that's why they treated me well... I think otherwise they would have just raped and beaten me. I was terribly afraid of that, so I let them do whatever they planned.

Semyon closed his eyes, feeling a wild desire to hug his wife, to kiss her. But he was afraid she would push him away.

— Then, when they sold me to the sauna, sent me to act in a porn film and to a BDSM club, I... I agreed myself. And later, when... already in the mountains, too. I just accepted that I had become a whore and my job...

— You're not a whore! – Semyon interrupted her hotly.

Rita raised her eyes to him, not yet touched by tears.

— You're my wife, my most beloved person in the world, and I... I love you very much!

Rita's lips trembled, a tear rolled down her cheek...

— When they announced a hundred thousand dollars for your ransom, I thought that was it, the end. It was impossible to raise that kind of money. At least, quickly. I didn't know what to do. Yes, there were no more interest payments and that cursed loan from Ashot wasn't hanging over us. But where