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Basement Bound: A Stan Goldman/Barbara Moore Adventure

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12.

Stan was aware that some guys got off, or claimed to, watching their wife or girlfriend being fucked by other men, often roughly and perhaps even non-consensually. He knew this from having browsed porno sites during the time between his divorce and the beginning of his relationship with Barb. He also knew, or was pretty sure at least, that he was not one of those guys.

Watching Barb being brutally taken front and back by those thugs had made Stan angrier than he had ever been in his life. If these gangsters hadn’t put three layers of duct tape over his mouth, he would have screamed the concrete walls of the cellar down. The tape was probably a good thing for Stan, because he would have cursed them so forcefully that he might well have provoked them to put a bullet through his head then and there.

To be honest, it wasn’t clear to Stan why they hadn’t killed him yet. He knew they almost certainly would before too long, but every minute he and Barb stayed alive was a minute where their abductors, who clearly weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, might slip up and he and Barb could take advantage, or, somehow, some law enforcement agency or other would find them. Slim hopes, but all they had. His dumb attempt to offer leniency hadn’t gotten them anywhere, that was for sure.

The horrible experience had been obviously painful and degrading for Barb, for these were men she would never have consorted with willingly-criminals and the scum of the earth. And soon, she would be shipped off to some country to serve the whims of some corrupt prince or businessman or government official, someone who wouldn’t care about her as he did, but would regard her as little better than a slave, used for sex and to enhance his status among his fellow oligarchs.

Stan tried to imagine Barb being passed around to seal a crooked business deal or alliance between crime bosses. How would someone as proud and independent as Barb adjust to such a life? Stan suspected it would take many whippings, canings, rides on the horse and other tortures he didn’t want to imagine to break her spirit.

Worst of all, was being forced to watch Barb being compelled to take Sergei’s disgusting and likely diseased member into her mouth and stimulate him to orgasm, to have him spray his vile spunk in her mouth and over her face and body must have truly crushed her.

Stan knew that Barb didn’t like performing oral, even on someone she loved, someone who showered regularly, like himself. This had been the one flaw in their otherwise fantastic sex life, at least as far as Stan saw things. Early on, he had asked her to go down on him and she had put him off with vague excuses. Being in the middle of one or another case, he hadn’t pressed the issue.

But, once they had retired and moved up here, he had become more insistent. “Why won’t you suck me off, Barb?” he had asked. “It’s not that big a deal. Everyone does it and it makes me feel so good, like a king. What’s the harm?”

“It just turns me off,” Barb had replied.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it just does.” And that’s where things had stood between them on that topic. Overall, Stan was so damned aroused by Barb that he let it go. Every so often, like on his birthday or when he had done something extra nice for her, she would like lick his penis for a while and finish him off with her hand, which, Stan had to admit, wasn’t so bad.

But now she was blowing that idiot Sergei like a five dollar whore and he was grinning and hooting with pleasure as that even bigger idiot Pavel filmed the action. To top it off, Max, who was also an idiot, but managed to seem like Einstein compared to his two accomplices taunted Stan by kneeling down next to him and whispering sweet nothings like “Your girlfriend is loving it,” and “She’ll be giving them by the dozen where she’s going”.

Watching Sergei explode all over Barb was more than Stan could take. He turned away in disgust.

Then, Max had made his demand that Barb blow Stan or they would shoot him. What was their game? Would a video of such a performance be something that “discerning viewers” would pay for? A leaked sex tape of two celebrity cops-would that be a cinematic coup? ‘Damned if I know,’ Stan thought, ‘But getting shot in the head won’t be much fun and if Barb is finally going to give me a proper hummer, who am I to say no?’

Max walked over to where Barb lay curled up naked on the floor and knelt next to her, yanking her head up by the hair. “What do you say, Detective Moore? Your boyfriend looks lonely there, watching all the fun. Go and take care of him and save his life. You owe him, don’t you think, since he’s saved yours.”

Even from that distance, Stan could see the blank look in Barb’s face. Under normal circumstances, Max’s proposal would have been met with a defiant string of curses. But the pain and the fear, the restraints and forced sex had taken their toll on Barb’s spirit.

She didn’t say yes, but, more importantly, she didn’t say no. Barb got to her feet, walked over to where Stan sat, knelt and took the tip of his penis into her mouth. Sergei stood over them, bent at the waist pointing the camera straight at Stan’s crotch, grinning like a moron. “Make sure you get all the action,” Max insisted.

“Oh, you better believe I’m getting it. The detectives will be even more famous when this thing hits the web,” Sergei said, cackling with glee.

Barb took Stan’s penis deeper into her mouth, licking gently around the head. Despite his qualms at benefitting from Barb’s debasement, and despite Sergei’s moronic running commentary-“Look at how the slut’s tongue is going at it”-Stan felt himself getting hard.

Madiosi-2018-425-12-Blowjob.jpg

Truth be told, it felt damn good, and dirty too. The idea of two real life lovers, ex-detectives at that, being forced at gunpoint to perform for an audience of unknown viewers as well as three laughing captors and two fellow captives was somehow even kinkier and more arousing than watching Barb being made to pleasure strangers.

After a few minutes of stimulation, Stan’s entire body was tingling and he was panting for breath through his nose, close to passing out from being unable to breathe through the tape over his mouth. Desperate for release now, and oblivious to the comments of the thugs, he raised his butt off the chair and exploded into Barb’s mouth in a rush of ecstasy. Barb looked at Pavel, who was approaching with his gun drawn, and swallowed the whole gooey mess.

“OK, that’s a wrap,” Sergei announced. “I got everything. In close up.”

Pavel stuck the business end of the gun against Stan’s temple. “Can I kill him now, Max?” he asked. “Worthless cop!” he spat.

Stan’s mind was racing, the afterglow of his powerful orgasm made him want to sleep, while the threat of imminent death required action. He began making loud pleading noises, as loud as he could through the tape over his month, hoping desperately that the gangsters would see that he was trying to tell them something important.

“Wait, Pavel,” Max ordered. “The cop wants to say his last words before he dies. Take the tape off and give him 15 seconds.”

Pavel ripped the tape off, none too gently. Stan gulped several lungfulls of air. “Money,” he gasped.

That got the thugs’ attention. “What money?” Max asked.

“From the book,” Stan said. “You can have it if you let us go.”

“He’s stalling for time, Max,” Pavel said. “Let me kill him.”

“No, wait,” Max replied. “Alex will love it if we get money from these cops as well as from the customers who buy the girls.”

Turning to Stan, he asked, ”How much you got?”

Stan thought carefully. Say an amount too low and they won’t be interested and will kill him. Say an amount too high and they won’t believe it and, truth be told, he was damned well not going to give everything he had to these thugs. They would likely end up killing him either way and he would be damned if he gave it to them instead of to his kids.

“Not sure exactly, maybe $100,000.” It was more than that, a fair amount more, in fact, but these guys didn’t need to know that. Stan could see the crooks were interested. “She has about the same,” he added looking at Barb. “We split the money 50:50.”

Pavel and Sergei looked at Max, who seemed to be thinking, or at least what might pass for thinking in this crowd. “We better discuss this with Alex,” he said. “We can deal with them tomorrow. Tie them up well and tape all of their mouths shut. I don’t want them disturbing my sleep,” he said as he turned and started climbing the stairs.
 
12.

Stan was aware that some guys got off, or claimed to, watching their wife or girlfriend being fucked by other men, often roughly and perhaps even non-consensually. He knew this from having browsed porno sites during the time between his divorce and the beginning of his relationship with Barb. He also knew, or was pretty sure at least, that he was not one of those guys.

Watching Barb being brutally taken front and back by those thugs had made Stan angrier than he had ever been in his life. If these gangsters hadn’t put three layers of duct tape over his mouth, he would have screamed the concrete walls of the cellar down. The tape was probably a good thing for Stan, because he would have cursed them so forcefully that he might well have provoked them to put a bullet through his head then and there.

To be honest, it wasn’t clear to Stan why they hadn’t killed him yet. He knew they almost certainly would before too long, but every minute he and Barb stayed alive was a minute where their abductors, who clearly weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, might slip up and he and Barb could take advantage, or, somehow, some law enforcement agency or other would find them. Slim hopes, but all they had. His dumb attempt to offer leniency hadn’t gotten them anywhere, that was for sure.

The horrible experience had been obviously painful and degrading for Barb, for these were men she would never have consorted with willingly-criminals and the scum of the earth. And soon, she would be shipped off to some country to serve the whims of some corrupt prince or businessman or government official, someone who wouldn’t care about her as he did, but would regard her as little better than a slave, used for sex and to enhance his status among his fellow oligarchs.

Stan tried to imagine Barb being passed around to seal a crooked business deal or alliance between crime bosses. How would someone as proud and independent as Barb adjust to such a life? Stan suspected it would take many whippings, canings, rides on the horse and other tortures he didn’t want to imagine to break her spirit.

Worst of all, was being forced to watch Barb being compelled to take Sergei’s disgusting and likely diseased member into her mouth and stimulate him to orgasm, to have him spray his vile spunk in her mouth and over her face and body must have truly crushed her.

Stan knew that Barb didn’t like performing oral, even on someone she loved, someone who showered regularly, like himself. This had been the one flaw in their otherwise fantastic sex life, at least as far as Stan saw things. Early on, he had asked her to go down on him and she had put him off with vague excuses. Being in the middle of one or another case, he hadn’t pressed the issue.

But, once they had retired and moved up here, he had become more insistent. “Why won’t you suck me off, Barb?” he had asked. “It’s not that big a deal. Everyone does it and it makes me feel so good, like a king. What’s the harm?”

“It just turns me off,” Barb had replied.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it just does.” And that’s where things had stood between them on that topic. Overall, Stan was so damned aroused by Barb that he let it go. Every so often, like on his birthday or when he had done something extra nice for her, she would like lick his penis for a while and finish him off with her hand, which, Stan had to admit, wasn’t so bad.

But now she was blowing that idiot Sergei like a five dollar whore and he was grinning and hooting with pleasure as that even bigger idiot Pavel filmed the action. To top it off, Max, who was also an idiot, but managed to seem like Einstein compared to his two accomplices taunted Stan by kneeling down next to him and whispering sweet nothings like “Your girlfriend is loving it,” and “She’ll be giving them by the dozen where she’s going”.

Watching Sergei explode all over Barb was more than Stan could take. He turned away in disgust.

Then, Max had made his demand that Barb blow Stan or they would shoot him. What was their game? Would a video of such a performance be something that “discerning viewers” would pay for? A leaked sex tape of two celebrity cops-would that be a cinematic coup? ‘Damned if I know,’ Stan thought, ‘But getting shot in the head won’t be much fun and if Barb is finally going to give me a proper hummer, who am I to say no?’

Max walked over to where Barb lay curled up naked on the floor and knelt next to her, yanking her head up by the hair. “What do you say, Detective Moore? Your boyfriend looks lonely there, watching all the fun. Go and take care of him and save his life. You owe him, don’t you think, since he’s saved yours.”

Even from that distance, Stan could see the blank look in Barb’s face. Under normal circumstances, Max’s proposal would have been met with a defiant string of curses. But the pain and the fear, the restraints and forced sex had taken their toll on Barb’s spirit.

She didn’t say yes, but, more importantly, she didn’t say no. Barb got to her feet, walked over to where Stan sat, knelt and took the tip of his penis into her mouth. Sergei stood over them, bent at the waist pointing the camera straight at Stan’s crotch, grinning like a moron. “Make sure you get all the action,” Max insisted.

“Oh, you better believe I’m getting it. The detectives will be even more famous when this thing hits the web,” Sergei said, cackling with glee.

Barb took Stan’s penis deeper into her mouth, licking gently around the head. Despite his qualms at benefitting from Barb’s debasement, and despite Sergei’s moronic running commentary-“Look at how the slut’s tongue is going at it”-Stan felt himself getting hard.

View attachment 625507

Truth be told, it felt damn good, and dirty too. The idea of two real life lovers, ex-detectives at that, being forced at gunpoint to perform for an audience of unknown viewers as well as three laughing captors and two fellow captives was somehow even kinkier and more arousing than watching Barb being made to pleasure strangers.

After a few minutes of stimulation, Stan’s entire body was tingling and he was panting for breath through his nose, close to passing out from being unable to breathe through the tape over his mouth. Desperate for release now, and oblivious to the comments of the thugs, he raised his butt off the chair and exploded into Barb’s mouth in a rush of ecstasy. Barb looked at Pavel, who was approaching with his gun drawn, and swallowed the whole gooey mess.

“OK, that’s a wrap,” Sergei announced. “I got everything. In close up.”

Pavel stuck the business end of the gun against Stan’s temple. “Can I kill him now, Max?” he asked. “Worthless cop!” he spat.

Stan’s mind was racing, the afterglow of his powerful orgasm made him want to sleep, while the threat of imminent death required action. He began making loud pleading noises, as loud as he could through the tape over his month, hoping desperately that the gangsters would see that he was trying to tell them something important.

“Wait, Pavel,” Max ordered. “The cop wants to say his last words before he dies. Take the tape off and give him 15 seconds.”

Pavel ripped the tape off, none too gently. Stan gulped several lungfulls of air. “Money,” he gasped.

That got the thugs’ attention. “What money?” Max asked.

“From the book,” Stan said. “You can have it if you let us go.”

“He’s stalling for time, Max,” Pavel said. “Let me kill him.”

“No, wait,” Max replied. “Alex will love it if we get money from these cops as well as from the customers who buy the girls.”

Turning to Stan, he asked, ”How much you got?”

Stan thought carefully. Say an amount too low and they won’t be interested and will kill him. Say an amount too high and they won’t believe it and, truth be told, he was damned well not going to give everything he had to these thugs. They would likely end up killing him either way and he would be damned if he gave it to them instead of to his kids.

“Not sure exactly, maybe $100,000.” It was more than that, a fair amount more, in fact, but these guys didn’t need to know that. Stan could see the crooks were interested. “She has about the same,” he added looking at Barb. “We split the money 50:50.”

Pavel and Sergei looked at Max, who seemed to be thinking, or at least what might pass for thinking in this crowd. “We better discuss this with Alex,” he said. “We can deal with them tomorrow. Tie them up well and tape all of their mouths shut. I don’t want them disturbing my sleep,” he said as he turned and started climbing the stairs.
OK, all I got is tired, common cliche's
HOT! Loved it, Excellent! More! Huba Huba (my own articulate favorite!)
 
Stan tried to imagine Barb being passed around to seal a crooked business deal or alliance between crime bosses. How would someone as proud and independent as Barb adjust to such a life? Stan suspected it would take many whippings, canings, rides on the horse and other tortures he didn’t want to imagine to break her spirit.

Stan has a vivid imagination. He also knows me too well. :rolleyes:

Stan knew that Barb didn’t like performing oral, even on someone she loved, someone who showered regularly, like himself.

Yes, I think it's disgusting. :confused:

But now she was blowing that idiot Sergei like a five dollar whore

Since when has that cost only five dollars? :p



Truth be told, it felt damn good, and dirty too.

I don't care Goldman ... to me it was damn disgusting :confused::eek::facepalm:

Pavel and Sergei looked at Max, who seemed to be thinking, or at least what might pass for thinking in this crowd.

No one would describe these guys as a "brain trust" ... :p
 
OK, all I got is tired, common cliche's
HOT! Loved it, Excellent! More! Huba Huba (my own articulate favorite!)
Hubba Hubba. You're not a millennial, but were you really around in the 1920s?
But I'm glad you're enjoying the story and there is much moore coming...
Since when has that cost only five dollars?
You've heard the expression, "The good old days", haven't you?
I don't care Goldman ... to me it was damn disgusting
I really do appreciate your saving my life. I guess that makes us even now...
 
I'd double that for you. How about a $10....


Attributed to Winston Churchill, George Bernard Shaw, Lord Beaverbrook, Mark Twain et al.

Man: Would you sleep with me for $ 1,000,000?
Woman: I suppose I would.
Man: Would you sleep with me for $10?
Woman: Certainly not, what sort of woman do you think I am?
Man: We've established that, now we're haggling over price...
 
Attributed to Winston Churchill, George Bernard Shaw, Lord Beaverbrook, Mark Twain et al.

Man: Would you sleep with me for $ 1,000,000?
Woman: I suppose I would.
Man: Would you sleep with me for $10?
Woman: Certainly not, what sort of woman do you think I am?
Man: We've established that, now we're haggling over price...
Always liked that. But I wonder. Do you really need to establish what sort of woman she is? Aren't they all? In the title of Mozart's most un-PC opera, Così fan tutte !
 
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