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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Gambling Debt 1/21  {Thinking Horndog} (MF M+F MM M+M Mm Mf oral anal ir 1st noncon reluc blackmail cuck)
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Date: Mon, 09 Apr 2012 11:10:05 -0400
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Chapter 1 of 21.
<1st attachment, "Gambling_Debt_1.txt" begin>

Author: T. H. Barker (Thinking Horndog)
Title: The Gambling Debt
Part: 1 of 21
Universe: The Gambling Debt
Summary: Tony Tomaselli owes his bookie a large amount of money -- and Crazy
Joe Scalese isn't one to sit on his hands and wait for his debtors to show up
with cash!  Leg-breaking tends to be counter-productive, so Crazy Joe
implements an experimental plan that involves not only Tony, but his wife
Gina and their two children!

Keywords: MF M+F MM M+M Mm Mf oral anal ir 1st noncon reluc blackmail cuck

The Gambling Debt

Chapter 1

	Thursday morning there was a knock on the door of the Tomaselli home.

	"Just a minute!"  Gina Tomaselli, who had been washing dishes in the
kitchen in a somewhat thin cotton housedress because of the heat and the fact
that with her husband Tony out of work, air-conditioning was a luxury they
couldn't afford the electric bill for, sighed and straightened it as best she
could and checked her dark, curly hair in the mirror before heading
reluctantly over to open the door.   It was early fall, just after Labor Day,
and the kids were in school, but the summer's heat hadn't broken yet.  She'd
learned to deal with it by dressing in items that were thin and light, but it
didn't mean she didn't sweat, especially over the sink.  'Thank God I'm
wearing underclothing...' she thought as she approached the door.  'Please
don't let it be a bill collector or a repo man...' she prayed.  It hadn't
happened yet, but the calls were coming in -- and getting more strident.

	Gina opened the door to find two men in business suits.  "Detective
Martin," the first said, flashing a badge, then waving at the other,
"Detective Scott.  Is your husband available?"

	"No, I'm afraid not."  Tony was out on a job interview.

	"That's just as well, Ma'am," the man identifying himself as
Detective Martin said urbanely, "as it gives us an opportunity to speak to
you.  May we come in?"  He was a very smooth customer, Gina noted, while his
partner, a black gentleman, appeared to be less polished.  Detective Scott
had yet to say anything, in fact.  When Gina displayed some uncertainty, he
added, "It's important."

	"Yes, of course."  Gina backed up and allowed the two authority
figures to enter her home.  "Can I get you something to drink?"

	"That would be nice.  What do you have?  No alcohol -- we're on
duty," Detective Martin replied.

	"I have some iced tea..."

	"Perfect."  Martin and Scott nodded at one another.

	Gina busied herself in the kitchen, collecting glasses, ice, and the
tea.  Martin followed; Scott, unnoticed, prowled the ground floor of the
home, looking for other occupants.

	Scott appeared in the kitchen just as Gina said, "How can I help
you?"

	"We have just a few questions," Martin replied, using the standard TV
cop formula.  "Are you aware that your husband gambles?"

	Gina froze.  Now, she was well aware that Tony spent an occasional
afternoon at the track, but this sounded more ominous.  She led with what she
knew.  "He goes to the track sometimes."

	"Horses?" Martin asked.

	"Yes."

	"Were you aware that he also bets on dogs and football?"

	"He may have mentioned it, occasionally," Gina replied guardedly.

	"Since we don't have a local dog track and football is a national
sport, those bets tend to be illegally placed through a bookie -- did you
know that?" Martin asked.

	"I...  Not really..." Gina muttered.

	"Are you aware that your husband has lately been losing -- heavily?"
Martin pressed.

	"No!"  That worried Gina -- they needed every dime...

	"Do you know or know of a certain Joseph Scalese?" Martin asked,
"Sometimes known as 'Crazy Joe' Scalese?"

	"N--no..."

	"He's your husband's bookie," Martin supplied.  "He's also somewhat
miffed that your husband hasn't been paying off his bad bets -- and he's,
well, not a nice man.  Am I being clear, here?"

	Gina winced.  You heard bad things about bookies and loan sharks --
VERY bad things.  "How bad is this?" Gina asked.

	"I believe that your husband is into Mr. Scalese for around ten
thousand dollars," Martin replied.  "And you are probably aware of how the
interest on such transactions tends to pile up."

	"Only vaguely..."  Gina was sick to her stomach.  'Ten thousand
dollars!'  That was more than their savings -- and they were living on that
already!

	"I can see you're upset," Martin said solicitously.  "Why don't you
have a seat?"  He indicated one of the Tomaselli's wooden dining room chairs
-- one with arms.  Gina minced over and settled into it without thought.
Martin seemed more than willing to let Gina ponder the situation, and she did
so. 'Wait until he gets home!  How COULD he?  How are we going to fix this?'
Gina went over the line of questioning while Scott wandered the floor,
disappearing behind her.  "Why are you here, exactly?" she asked.

	"We thought we would wait and speak to him about some unique methods
whereby he might deal with the situation," Martin explained.  "When is he
due?"

	Gina looked at the clock -- it was eleven-thirty five.  "Around two,
I think.  He has a job interview."

	"Ah, yes.  Things are a bit tight, I imagine," Martin said
sympathetically.

	"That's quite a while to wait," Gina mused.

	"True.  When are the children due home?" Martin asked.

	"They get out of school at three-thirty," Gina supplied.  "Probably
around four."

	Martin took notes.  "That leaves plenty of time..."

	"I'm sure you have more pressing business," Gina muttered nervously.
"Can I have Tony call you at the station to set up an appointment?  Believe
me, we'll be talking about this!"

	Martin pursed his lips.  "That might have been an option at one
point, Ma'am, but you've made some rather damaging admissions.  We're going
to have to arrest you as an accessory.  Cuff her please, Mr. Scott."

	"Wh-what?"  Gina sat dazed as Martin's partner bent her forward in
the chair and demanded in a gravelly voice that she put her hands behind her
back.  She did as she was told and the man produced handcuffs and cuffed her
hands behind her.  "I haven't done anything!" she protested.

	Martin sighed.  Scott, finished with the handcuffs, reached in his
pocket for a rag and a bottle of fluid, which he dumped liberally on the rag.
"No, you didn't," Martin agreed, "But Tony did.  All you're guilty of is
being a little too gullible.  Unfortunately, that makes you collateral
damage.  You see, we're not really cops -- we work for Crazy Joe Scalese.  We
have a slightly modified Miranda, here...  You have the right to scream.  If
you give up the right to scream..."

	Scott timed it perfectly, catching Gina as she drew in a big breath,
covering her nose and mouth with the cloth.  For Gina, things got fuzzy and
then drifted away; she went limp in the chair.  "Good," said Martin.  "Go out
to the car and get the kit, then move the car down the block a bit."  Scott
nodded and headed out.


	When Gina awakened, one of the first things to clarify in her fuzzy
field of vision was the clock; it was a bit after twelve.  She was still (or
again) in the chair, but her wrists, knees, and ankles were attached to the
chair arms, chair arm supports and front chair legs with zip ties.  She
noticed that, oddly, the areas around the ties had been padded.  She was also
naked, and her ass felt oddly stuffed...  The room was cooler -- she could
hear the air conditioner running.  'One more bill...' went through her head
-- but of course, that was the least of her problems...

	Her dress and underclothing were on the floor.  The housedress was
somewhat the worse for the wear; Martin and Scott had tried to remove it
without tearing it, but Gina had been limp, dead weight and sweaty, causing
it to stick, and it had been thin and worn in any case.  As a result, it was
torn in several places.

	"Ah, you're back!"  Martin's face swam into view.  "Here, take this
pill."  He shoved a pill into her mouth, following it with the neck of a
water bottle -- which he squeezed, making sure she swallowed.

	"What's that for?" Gina croaked.

	"It's to keep you from becoming overly distraught about things,"
Martin replied smoothly.  "Excited is okay, but distraught is counter-
productive."

	"I don't think I understand..." Gina husked fearfully.

	"You will.  As I think I indicated, Crazy Joe isn't happy with your
husband.  We're going to be using you to make an impression on Tony -- get
his attention, as it were.  To do that, we want you to be in a particular
state of mind.  Here, have another pill."  He shoved another pill in Gina's
mouth, again following it with an inescapable burst of water.

	"What's that one for?"

	"It's another piece of the puzzle.  Here -- one more and you're
finished."  Gina took the third pill, on the surface wondering why, but
knowing the answer in the layer beneath.  If she fought it, God knew what her
captors would do to her -- and she would STILL end up swallowing the pill...

	"Am I going to die?" Gina asked.

	"No."  Martin shook his head.  "That isn't the purpose of the
exercise.  We want to bring home to your husband what we can do -- and what
we can make YOU do -- and, ultimately, what we can make HIM do.  This should
give him some incentive to make payments to Crazy Joe a priority."  Martin's
smile grew fangs.  "Actually, if all goes well, you will enjoy your afternoon
immensely."

	"I...?"

	"I know, you don't understand," Martin cut her off.  "Scott?"

	Scott came over Gina's head from behind with something -- something
that tasted rubbery and went into her mouth.  Gina tried to fight it, but
Martin reached in and grabbed her jaw and forced it open while Scott finished
jamming it in and tightened some straps at the back of her head.  "This is a
penis gag," Martin explained.  "It's inflatable."  He began squeezing a bulb
than hung from the front of the thing and something inflated in Gina's mouth.
There was some kind of mouthpiece that trapped her teeth and kept her from
biting down on the inflatable piece, which filled her mouth and kept getting
longer and thicker...  Gina began to get seriously scared and grunted around
the gag as best she could.  "Uncomfortable?" Martin asked.  Gina bobbed her
head.  "This would be something on the order of an object lesson for Phase
One.  When you show us you're going to be a good girl, we'll think about
removing it."  He stepped back.  "Now, I'm going to explain a few things --
those pills, for instance.  Are you interested?"  Gina bobbed her head.  "I
see you're feeling cooperative already.  Still, we need to get into negative
reinforcement while it is still effective..."  He reached forward and
collected Gina's nose, closing it off.  The gag wasn't passing anything, so
Gina, unprepared, was immediately in trouble!

	"MMMM!  MMMMM!  MMMMM!" she grunted around the gag, struggling.

	"I'm guessing you don't want to turn blue..." Martin theorized.

	"MMMM!  MMMMMM!"  Gina tried to shake her head, but he had her nose
in a very painful grip; her eyes watered.

	After a moment, though, Martin let go.  "That's the kind of thing bad
girls get.  Are you a bad girl, Gina?"  Gina shook her head vehemently,
sucking in big lungfuls of air.  "That's good," Martin approved.  "Now that
we're past that unpleasantness, we can move on."

	Gina felt dizzy -- was she hyperventilating, or was it the pills?
She didn't know...

	"All right," Martin announced, "Let's talk about the pills.  The
first pill, as I noted before, it to keep you from being overly anxious about
things.  The second pill helps you shed your inhibitions.  Have you ever gone
out drinking or whatever and gotten into a mood and done wild and crazy
things and not given a damn?"

	Gina nodded, wondering why she was cooperating.

	"Well, that's what the second pill is for, so you can do things
without giving a damn what people think -- in this case, in particular,
without caring what Tony thinks."  Martin smiled.  "The third pill augments
your senses, intensifying pleasure and pain -- to the point of making either
of them exquisite.  Now, strangely, this is an interaction thing -- the
second pill would be virtually ineffective without the first, and the third
would do nothing at all for you without the other two -- but the three
together are potent.  I discovered this quite by accident, but it has been
VERY useful in the past and will be again..."  Martin beamed at Gina.  "Now,
we're going to do a little check to see when they're all working, then we're
going to do a little Pavlovian exercise -- and finally, we're going to
prepare you for Tony...  Do you know what you're going to do?"

	Gina shook her head; she had no idea...

	"You're going to fuck my associate and myself, right in front of your
husband's nose.  You're going to beg us to fuck you and then you're going to
fuck us and you're going to enjoy it like you've never enjoyed sex before --
and we're going to rub his nose in it."  He eyed her.  "Now, I know what
you're thinking -- you're thinking, 'He can't make me do that -- and he
CERTAINLY can't make me enjoy it!'  But you're going to be surprised what we
can do...  And when we're done, you won't even care as you watch us deliver
Tony's OTHER little lesson..."  Martin grinned evilly.

	'There's no way...' Gina thought -- but Martin seemed supremely
confident...  He selected a device from a bag at his feet -- a meter of some
kind -- and a handful of patches and wire leads that resembled those for an
EKG, and he began placing them here and there on Gina's body.  "This is so we
know how you're doing -- we want to give you just enough pleasure and not too
much..."  He pulled a wire from between her legs and attached it to the
meter.  "We put a probe in your anus while you were asleep.  Did you know
that when you orgasm, your anus pulses?  Many women don't -- but some do, and
use it to their advantage..."  He checked the meter, murmuring "All set..."

	Martin then stepped up and collected Gina's left breast in his hand.
Gina expected something vicious, but he merely cradled it, rubbing his thumb
over the nipple, murmuring, "You have beautiful breasts..."

	They WERE beautiful.  Gina was a dark Italian goddess, tall and
robust without being anything so rude as 'big and fat.'  Everything about her
from the top of her head to the tips of her toes was smoothly upholstered.
Motherhood had put a little bit of sag in her breasts, but nothing serious --
they were fine, borderline 'D' cups.  There were a couple of stretch marks on
her belly too, from her two children, but there wasn't any cellulite on her
thighs or her ass.  Martin rubbed the nipple until it elongated, and then
took it between his fingers, rubbing and twisting it gently.  "Is that firm
enough?  I know that once you've breast fed, it sometimes takes a little more
pressure to provoke pleasure," Martin murmured, eyeing her.  "Use your right
thumb -- up to tell me more pressure and down to tell me less...  Use your
left to tell me if it is pleasant or not -- up for more pleasure and down for
less.  We're doing this for fun, now -- I'm not trying to hurt you.  More?"
Since she refused to react, he increased the pressure until it was certainly
painful; in a moment, she broke and pointed both thumbs down.  "What did you
do that for, silly?  I TOLD you I wasn't trying to hurt you..."  He shifted
things up and down the scale, squeezing and tugging and rubbing and twisting
and apparently NOT trying to hurt her and over the next few minutes, Gina got
into the whole thing, actively working with him.  The pleasure seemed to come
in waves, each a bit higher than the first.  She got wet -- she could feel it
on the wooden seat of the chair between her spread thighs.  Things just got
better and better -- she'd NEVER gotten this hot from just having a nipple
tweaked before!  She began to pant through her nose, orgasm hovering close...
She lost control of her thumbs, unable to concentrate so she could signal
properly -- and it didn't matter, because pain seemed to be pleasurable,
too...

	The meter suddenly chirped and Martin abruptly let go.  Gina sagged
in the chair and let out a whine.  Martin caressed her face and said, "The
pills are working, aren't they, my dear?  See how much fun they are?  Time to
move on..."  He unzipped his trousers and freed up his cock.  "Would you like
to suck my cock?"

	Gina was taken aback!  "MMMPH?"  'What?' couldn't escape the gag.

	Martin chuckled.  "I surprised you, didn't I?  Let's approach this
logically.  Clearly, if you're going to suck my cock or my associate's, we'll
have to remove that nasty gag.  Wouldn't that be nice?  But that's not all --
I'm prepared to offer you a little incentive..."  He reached in the bag and
fished out something that looked vaguely like an electric toothbrush.  "This
is the latest and greatest in female clitoral stimulation," he explained.
"If you're a good girl and suck my cock, I'll use it to bring you pleasure --
wouldn't THAT be nice?  Here, let me show you..."  He knelt and turned it on
and then slid it slowly forward along the chair seat.  Gina, her knees zip-
tied to the uprights of the chair arms, could only watch, bug-eyed, as it
closed the distance to her undefended cunt...

	The touch of the buzzing device went through her like fifty thousand
volts!  She threw her head back and her eyes crossed and she convulsed as
best she could against her bindings -- then it was gone, just before it would
have triggered a cataclysm...  Martin stood, grinning.  "Nice, huh?  Wouldn't
you like to feel that again?  Tell you what -- lean forward and just smell
it..."

	'I CAN'T suck...    Fuck it -- What will it hurt?'  Part of her
realized it was the drugs talking, but she didn't care...  She leaned
forward.

	"Mr. Scott, if you would do the honors?  Keep the intensity down..."
Martin handed the vibrator to his partner and came forward, waggling his
cock.  When it was parked under Gina's nose, Scott rubbed her nether lips
with the vibrator, immersing her in pleasure.  It lasted maybe five seconds
before Martin withdrew, Gina following his cock as far as she could.  "Now,
that wasn't so bad, was it?"

	Gina realized that she was whining.  It was embarrassing, but who
cared?

	"Now do Mr. Scott..." Martin directed.

	Scott stood, grinning, handing off the vibrator.  "Come on, Baby --
you KNOW you want it..." Scott rumbled.

	'I can't do this!" Gina wailed to herself. 'He's black!'  She shook
her head.

	"Racist, are we?  Just how bad is it?" Martin asked.  He put the
vibrator down on the chair seat and slid it tantalizingly close.  Weak
vibrations flowed along her pussy and from where the probe in her ass touched
the seat into her rectum.  It was unbelievably titillating -- not enough to
be any more than a promise.  She watched the tip wave tantalizingly close to
her privates and whined into the gag.  "Apologize to Mr. Scott," Martin
directed, "Ask him pretty please to bring all that hard, black meat for you
to rub your nose along...  Use your hands to ask him to come close so you can
get your fill..."

	Gina was doing it before she realized, beckoning Scott with both
hands and whining into the gag, her expression intent.  'My God. I've lost it
totally!' she thought, dazed -- but she couldn't bring herself to stop...

	Scott grinned from ear to ear and rubbed it in.  "Here it comes,
Baby.  Get a good look, because this cock is gonna own ALL your holes, just
like Mr. Martin's!"

	It was humiliating -- and part of Gina took it hard -- but the rest
leaned forward eagerly and ran her nose over the hard black length -- and the
buzzing tip of the vibrator delivered on its promise the whole time, brining
her mind-shattering pleasure that just missed being orgasmic.  Gina didn't
hear the beep of the meter that was the signal for the withdrawal of Scott's
cock -- and the vibrator; she didn't make the connection.  But it was all
part of the master plan -- Martin was monitoring Gina's reactions, and when
orgasm hovered close, it was time to cut her off...

	They both went again, running their cocks under her nose, teasing
Gina over her feverish eagerness, largely imparted by the drugs in her
system.  Those drugs robbed her of control and intensified the sensations
they brought her to the point of robbing her of her sanity!  Then Martin
asked, "Ready for a taste?"

	This wasn't really a leap, at this point; Gina nodded eagerly.  Scott
came up behind her and undid the gag straps while Martin twisted the valve
that deflated the 'penis' filling Gina's mouth and removed it -- and then
they resumed, Martin waving his cock in Gina's face and directing, "Say
pretty please..." while Scott readied the vibrator.

	The drugs did their work; Gina wanted the pleasure.  She felt the
humiliation involved, but the drugs didn't let her care enough to let it stop
herself -- instead, the humiliation and embarrassment became a part of the
process.  "Pretty please," she croaked, opening her mouth.  Martin laid his
cock on her extended tongue and she sucked it in as Scott delivered the
promised reward.

	They kept the intensity down so she wouldn't blast off immediately;
Martin got a ninety-second suck before Gina started showing signs of an
imminent peak.  She was grunting and whining with her tongue stuck out when
Scott rose to replace Martin.  Before this, Gina had sucked exactly one cock
-- Tony's -- and it hadn't been a challenge; neither Martin nor Scott was a
fourteen-inch long porn star, but both were a bit above average.  Martin took
the high road and Scott took the low, teasing her about being a slut and how
much she must be enjoying sucking black cock. Part of Gina suffered the
humiliation and filed it away as a possible source of pleasure along with
satisfactory fellatio.

	For the second round, they released her hands so she could cradle
their balls, providing nipple play in return -- something Gina understood the
value of from the warm-up.  She learned that concentrating on her work
distanced her some from the joy but extended it -- because it was already
clear that they were deliberately withholding the ultimate in pleasure from
her.  She became diligent in her efforts, and over two rounds, they were
rougher and more demanding -- and she became both more accomplished and more
pliant.

	When she was choking herself regularly, trying to swallow them, they
released her from the chair -- and made her crawl to them, begging.  Gina
knew that she was totally debased at this point -- but it didn't matter to
her.  She knew it would later, but the drugs distanced her from it.  Martin
sat in a chair and impaled her throat, using her roughly -- and when he shot
his wad in her mouth, Scott made certain she finally achieved orgasm while
Martin linked it to swallowing cum verbally, "Drink my cum, Slut -- it brings
the ultimate in pleasure!"  Scott was even rougher with her, finally forcing
his length down her throat, taunting and teasing -- and they gave Gina a
second orgasm in concert with his.

	Next came fucking -- just a teaser -- only a few strokes.  A vibrator
wasn't required; a cock moving in her provided plenty of stimulation.  Each
of them entered her and gave her a few strokes, breaking the barrier, taking
territory that had only belonged to Gina's husband.  They had to be careful,
as they needed to save capacity for the command performance, but Martin and
Scott displayed the necessary discipline.  First, they took her doggie-style,
teasing her about being a bitch in heat who didn't care whose cock she rode,
then they each got up close and personal, taking her missionary-style,
kissing her and sucking her neck and nipples and taunting and teasing, Scott
adding the seeds of surrender to black dominance to the field freshly plowed
by Martin.  They made certain that Gina knew that her ultimate transport
would only come with a cock in her -- and they withheld it, fueling the
desperate need that would give them the show they planned to provide her
husband upon his return.  By the time each of them had dangled the promise of
ultimate joy in front of her twice, letting her taste it but not drink her
fill, the craving was overpowering and she was a broken thing.  Martin
removed the meter and the test patches and probes -- they had her response
curve isolated and could read her like a book.  They moved the chair to a
position before the kitchen doorway, in full sight of the front door, and
Gina sat in it obediently, lipping their cocks and submitting, knees splayed,
to the attentions of rough fingers on her clit.

	A bit after two o'clock, a car pulled into the driveway.  "Showtime!"
Martin announced.  "Sit there and be a good girl and we'll both fuck you --
understand?  Don't say anything when Tony comes in -- you'll ruin the
surprise..."  Gina nodded dutifully.

<1st attachment end>


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