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Subject: {ASSM} The Gambling Debt 6/21 {Thinking Horndog} (MF M+F MM M+M Mm Mf oral anal ir 1st noncon reluc blackmail cuck)
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Date: Tue, 10 Apr 2012 21:10:10 -0400
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Chapter 6 of 21.
<1st attachment, "Gambling_Debt_6.txt" begin>

Author: T. H. Barker (Thinking Horndog)
Title: The Gambling Debt
Part: 6 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 6

	Friday dragged by for everybody involved.  Tony went to work guilt-
ridden, and Gina spent the whole day in dread anticipation.  Regina's brand
of anticipation was at the other end of the scale -- she was looking forward
to the evening.  Maria was, too, in general, but Robert had misgivings.

	Gina prepared herself like she was going out for the evening -- she
primped and shaved her legs and her armpits and went through the whole
eyebrow plucking thing.  Make-up didn't seem sensible, so she limited it.
Then she took a couple of bottled enemas, back to back, and lubricated her
ass and the inside of her pussy in order to avoid painful dry entry -- who
knew if she was going to be able to lubricate?  Finally, she dressed to
impress -- dark stockings, garters, a black thong and a black lace bra under
a low-cut blouse that showed a bit of midriff and a wraparound skirt -- and
three-inch black heels.  God knew whether any of it would survive the night
unscathed, but if she was going to be a whore, she might as well look good to
start...  She was so preoccupied that she didn't even think to wonder why
neither Maria nor Robert displayed any curiosity over why she was dressed up.

	Tony came home and looked her over, but said nothing.  He didn't feel
that he had any right to say anything in the first place; he felt it was best
to just let Gina handle things in her own way...

	When Scott walked through the door at six, things hit the skids as
far as Tony was concerned.  Scott's opener for Gina was, "Did you grease
yourself up, Honey?"  At her tight nod, he turned to Tony, "Why aren't YOU
dressed?"

	"I, uh..." Tony stammered.

	"Get that way -- you're going to see the show.  In fact, you ought to
get used to how it feels for wifey, here..."  He turned to Gina.  "Got any
more enemas?"

	"Two," Gina nodded.

	"My favorite number.  Come on, Asswipe."  Scott basically frog-
marched Tony into the bathroom and pumped his ass full of water.  Tony's
whining inquiries got, "You get to see how the other half lives," for a
response.

	Meanwhile, Gina tried to keep the situation low-key for the children.
"Your father and I are going out.  Robert, you keep an eye on Maria for us.
We'll be very late, so go to bed when you're supposed to.  There is pizza
money on the table.  Why don't you stay upstairs for a while -- your father's
friend isn't the most mannerly person in the world."

	Thirty minutes later, freshly purged and with a dollop of Vaseline
shoved up his bunghole, Tony, relatively casually dressed, followed his wife
and Scott out the door.  He had very little idea what he was in for...

	That changed in the car on the way to their engagement.  Scott turned
to Gina and said, "Okay, I'm gonna just sit here and laugh while you tell
Fuckwad what's on the agenda."

	Tony turned a surprised glance on Gina -- but she'd been nerving
herself up for this all day and had plenty of pent-up anger to work with.
"I'm going to have to play cum-dumpster -- but it's YOUR debt, so I didn't
see any reason why you shouldn't participate right away and maybe get us
ahead and reduce the interest payments, do you?"  Tony opened his mouth, but
she overrode him, "I saw an opportunity to milk some additional money out of
the whole thing and Crazy Joe agreed, so you get to play, too.  Basically, it
seems that fucking some guy's wife right under his nose is a kick for some
guys, so they'll pay extra for the privilege -- so you get to hang out and
watch.  It's all right to be upset -- I HOPE you'll be upset -- because it'll
just make the customers happier.  Don't be all fakey about it, though -- it
will screw it all up if they think you're just acting and don't give a damn.
Are you with me so far?"  She sat there, waiting, glaring at him.

	Tony, shocked, muttered, "Yeah, I think so..."

	"They're going to want to give you shit about how they're fucking me
and you have to watch," Gina continued.  "That's all part of what brings in
the extra money, so expect it.  Again, you don't have to LIKE it and you can
whine about it or whatever, as long as you're convincing."  Gina paused for a
moment, then continued, "Personally, I hope that Martin and Scott are right
and I LOVE this shit -- it'll make things easier on ME, obviously.  If things
go right in that area, I'm gonna get all wild and happy, and I'll probably
heap shit on you, too.  Well, you deserve it, so suck it up!"  She grinned
nastily.  "That bring us to the last part -- sucking.  We prepped you in case
somebody wants to warm up on you before they stick their cock in me.  Some of
these guys might want to heap it on you by having you fluff them -- or
whatever.  Once again, it's a revenue stream and the LEAST you could do under
the circumstances, so you're gonna do it.  You can blubber all over them and
be all upset, but you're gonna do it -- understand?"

	Tony, overwhelmed, sat there, blinking.  It was a lot to take in.
After a moment, Gina angrily reached out and slapped him, "HEY!! I'm talking
to you, asshole!"

	"Okay!"  Tony rubbed his cheek.

	"You don't have to worry too much about how you're gonna handle
things, Fuckwad," Scott announced.  "You'll have a front row seat, but you'll
be chained to a pole, buck-ass naked.  If somebody wants something from you,
they won't have far to go to get it."

	Gina blinked.  "I'd kind of assumed that you would tie him to  a
chair or something..."

	"This is better, don't you think?" Scott replied.

	"Yeah," Gina nodded, eyeing Tony.  "It works."  She cocked her head
eyeing her husband, birdlike.  "The good news is that we should make
considerably more money together tonight like this than we would make in the
next two weeks playing separately -- and maybe we'll get ahead enough to
spare one of the kids.  I hope you see the benefit in that..."

	"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Tony gusted, waving a hand, "It's just...
harsh."

	"That's what brings in the extra money," Gina pointed out.  "Besides,
you deserve it."

	Tony couldn't argue.


	Their venue was a roadhouse with a big back room on the edge of town
-- just beyond the city limits, and therefore beyond local ordinances and
such.  The county sheriff was a different matter -- but he was handled,
anyway.  The back room was actually bigger than the bar proper, and got used
for dancing on Friday nights, as a usual thing -- but it had been closed to
the public for this.  There was a large, low stage at the back with mirrored
walls and a pole for exotic dancers to use -- this was where the action would
occur.

	Their hosts were a trio of bikers -- wannabe Hell's Angels -- who had
initially planned for an 'intimate gathering of friends,' but had seen an
opportunity to have a serious blowout that they could brag about at low cost
by charging admission, once Crazy Joe had suggested some refinements to the
entertainment.  The agreed-upon price was two thousand dollars plus fifty
percent of the gate to Crazy Joe -- and there were few limits, if any.

	Word had gone out quietly and interest was high.  The bikers were
charging twenty dollars a seat for the forty chairs in the room and three
hundred for participation -- and it was expected that spectators would opt to
participate in large numbers.  The house was going to make a bundle on drinks
with the place full, so they were happy.  The original gang members got a
discount, but it was still two hundred fifty dollars a pop -- nobody seemed
inclined to sit things out, however.  When they asked how much they were
allowed to get, participants were told, "Fuck until you're done."

	Crazy Joe's instructions to the bikers were, "Don't damage the
merchandise.  I'm gonna want to be able to use it again in a couple of days.
You can fuck it until she can pass a beer bottle through all three holes, and
you can be a little rough about it -- but don't break shit.  If she is still
too busted to work next Friday, I'm gonna want another two grand, and if you
bust something permanently, you won't like the results.  I'm sending a couple
of my boys to make sure shit doesn't get totally out of hand -- they get to
play if they want.  As for her old man -- you can knock him around a little,
but try to keep the marks down.  He's a working stiff with kids to feed and
just getting back, and we don't want his new employers asking why he's all
busted up on Monday.  Poke him in the gut a few times if you want.  I really
don't care if his dick works as long as his mouth and his ass do -- and his
old lady probably feels the same way.  If you think up something extra,
negotiate with the boys on-site -- they have my full authority."

	Scott brought Gina and Tony in through the back door, through a small
office, and into what had probably once been a dressing room for strippers.
Martin was already there.  "Has everyone been briefed?" he asked brightly.

	Scott laughed.  "Yeah.  I should have made a recording -- it was
HILARIOUS!  All he needs is a collar and a leash -- he ALREADY KNOWS he's in
the doghouse!"  Tony hung his head.

	Martin nodded.  "Right now, you have about ten paid-for customers,
Gina.  It's a no-limit game -- they fuck until they get tired and they get
any hole they want.  Got that?"  Gina nodded, pensive.

	Scott took up the thread, "You've also got an audience -- about forty
people who paid to watch you get turned every which way but loose and to
watch him watch his old lady take a lot of strange dick.  Some of them may
opt to participate, other than heckling your old man for being an asswipe.
If they opt to participate -- which means doing anything on the stage -- they
have to kick in more money for it -- which means Joe gets more money and you
get more on account -- so if you end up taking fifty dicks, you could make a
serious principal payment on Fuckwad's debt."  Scott swung his regard to
Tony.  "It doesn't matter who they come to visit, as long as they pay -- you
might keep THAT in mind and try to pull your weight, Fuckwad."

	Three men came in through the curtained doorway at the end of the
room.  "These are your hosts," Martin made the introductions, "Digger, the
Spook, and Rawhide.  They go first, obviously."  Gina looked them over.  All
wore traditional biker clothes -- vests with the gang's colors on the back,
leather, boots, and other trimmings.  Digger had long straggly hair --
thinning on top -- pulled back in a ponytail and a beard just long enough to
sport a little braid.  The Spook was a tall, bald cadaverous-looking
character in leather from head to toe, and Rawhide wore buckskins and tall
moccasins.

	Rawhide took the lead, looking dubious.  "Nice getup," he muttered,
following up instantly with, "Are you REALLY married?"

	"Yeah," Gina declaimed.  "It's not something I'm real thrilled about
right now, though."  She fished in her purse and came up with a wedding
picture of herself and Tony, obviously much younger.  Rawhide looked at the
picture, and then at the photograph back.  It had to be genuine -- it was too
old not to be.  The date of processing on the back confirmed it.  "Want to
see our marriage license?" she asked.

	"I'll look -- but I'm sold," Rawhide replied, passing the picture to
the Spook.  "I just wanted to be sure we weren't being ripped off."  He took
the marriage license and looked at that, too, but handed it back.

	The picture passed from the Spook to Digger and on to Martin, who
said, "I'm going to borrow this -- I've got an idea.  Isn't there a big-
screen TV in the room?  What's it hooked up to?"  He and Rawhide headed for
the curtain.

	Digger stood looking at Gina and Tony for a bit, playing with his
beard braid.  "You're hot!" he announced, directed at Gina, "and you're an
asshole!" he added for Tony's benefit.  "This is gonna be fun!"

	"Um, guys," Gina said diffidently, "You don't have any lube, do you?
I'm concerned that at some point I'll catch fire or something..."

	"I got it covered, Honey," Scott announced, holding up a bottle.
"Got a couple of things, actually.  We'll keep you in tune.  Him, too," he
added, eyeing Tony.

	Things were getting rowdy beyond the curtain.  Gina stepped over to
the door and peeked through.  One surprise was the presence of three or four
women in the audience -- one or two of whom weren't obviously biker babes.
There was a guy at the door at the far end of the room taking money from
people who were coming in bringing their own chairs.  "Do you know the guy at
the door is letting more people in?" she asked.

	"Noo..."  Digger stuck his head through the curtain.  "Fuck!  I'd
better talk to Gerald.  I mean, it's more money, but..."  He dashed out.

	A couple of minutes later, he was back.  "We're at sixty -- Gerald
and I agreed that is capacity.  I could have wrung Leroy's neck, but it's
done and we'd have a riot on our hands if we tried to push somebody back
out."

	"Well, you can always backfill if somebody leaves," Scott muttered.
"I'll be on the door most of the time, once shit gets rolling."  He looked
over at Gina.  "Save me some ass."  Gina looked at him but didn't say
anything -- couldn't he have it any time he wanted?  Crazy Joe probably
couldn't care less -- and Gina had a feeling that she wouldn't, either, after
THIS night!

	Scott gathered up a robe -- a silk item that looked like something a
boxer would wear.  "Strip, Fuckwad, and put this on."  Tony opened his mouth,
and Scott added, "Go ahead and ask me something stupid so I can belt you
one!"  Tony shut up and started undressing.  Scott turned to Gina.  "I know
you were kind of preserving your self-image with that get-up, but it's
already caused a couple of people to question the authenticity of the show.
Once you're out on the stage, I'd dump out of the skirt, at least, as soon as
possible. The top and bra, too, probably -- they'll just be in the way."
Gina nodded.  Scott turned back to Tony, pressing, "Hurry up, Fuckwad -- it's
showtime!"

	Digger turned to Martin, who had returned with him, "Maybe you should
make the introductions -- you have a gift for gab."

	Martin nodded.  "No problem.  Ready?"  Gina shrugged; all she could
feel was the hundred butterflies fluttering around the inside of her stomach.
They weren't giving Tony any time to think -- but he was trying his best to
keep his mind a blank, anyway.  Belting the robe, he nodded.  Martin waved
Digger, the Spook, and Rawhide ahead of him, then led out Gina and Tony;
Scott grabbed up a couple of items from the dressing table and took up the
rear.

	There were some whoops and hollers, and a smattering of applause as
the group came out, but it damped down quickly to silent, hungry
anticipation. Gina was amazed -- she could FEEL it!  So could Tony -- but he
felt the menace more than Gina did.  Looking around as she moved to the spot
Martin indicated for her, she took in her surroundings.  The stage was an
octagon, fitted into a corner of the room -- there were three mirrored walls,
leaving the other five sides open and there were large, angled mirrors above
head level arranged to give the audience a top view of activity on the stage.
Somewhat offset to the right of those seated up front in the audience was a
brass stripper's pole.  The floor of the stage had been covered with several
thick mats, which made walking in heels difficult, but Gina knew that she
would be grateful later when her knees or elbows or another part of her body
was cushioned from contact with the cold, hard floor.  There was a large
armchair in evidence and a straight chair had been put over near the pole.

	"Okay, before we begin -- there will be no cameras and no recording
-- if we catch you taking pictures or video, you're out of here and your
camera or cell phone is going to seriously malfunction in the process,"
Martin began, speaking into a microphone.  "We don't want this on the
Internet, and we don't want anyone thinking they can blackmail the principals
in tonight's little drama.  The gent promoting this is a prominent local
businessman who can and will make you aware of his displeasure if you do
something stupid.  Everyone get that?"  He looked around.  "Let's get on with
it, then.  Tonight, your hosts -- Digger, the Spook, and Rawhide, here --
present a cautionary tale on gambling and its consequences."  He waved at
Tony.  "This gentleman found himself out of work a while back, and, having
apparently been lucky more than once at the track, decided to see if he could
stretch his family's savings by making a few wagers.  He lost -- and lost
again -- and, unfortunately, continued to lose.  Now, the gentleman who took
those bets is owed a large sum of money, but this fellow has no assets.  Our
debt collector could break both of the man's legs, but that wouldn't pay his
bills, would it?  So he looked a little deeper..."  Martin turned to Gina.
"This being a community property state, our unlucky gambler's debts appear on
his wife's balance sheet, too -- and she DOES have assets, as you can see..."
There were some hoots and catcalls, and Gina hung her head.  "So, fair or
not, Wifey gets to work to pay off her husband's debt.  This would be pretty
new, I think -- have you ever done anything like this before, Honey?"  He
shoved the microphone under Gina's nose.

	"No," Gina croaked.  "Not even close."

	"How many dicks have you dealt with in your life, Honey?" Martin
asked.

	"Three," Gina replied.

	"Now, we're not talking about three at a time, are we?"

	"No.  Three, total."

	"I might add that the female lead in our little drama is a mother of
two," Martin continued, "and that we can pretty much assume that she's been
faithful to the old man for -- how long, Honey?"

	"Fifteen years," Gina supplied.

	"So, would it be correct to say that your level of sexual experience
will have doubled by the time our hosts get through with you?" Martin asked.

	"Yes."

	Martin made a motion and the three big-screen TVs in the room lit
with Tony and Gina's wedding picture.  "Now, I'm aware that several of you
are probably harboring doubts as to the authenticity of our couple.  Well,
that's their wedding picture...  If that fails to convince, we can provide
documentary evidence -- but we're gonna charge for it, and the warnings we
offered previously about contacting the couple with intent to blackmail still
apply.  Cute, aren't they?"  He turned to Gina.  "I imagine that being
married to the old man isn't the same pleasant prospect it was back then,
huh?"

	"Not really," Gina replied.

	The audience was clearly mesmerized; Martin swept them with his eyes
and moved on.  "Now, it wouldn't REALLY be fair for the little woman to suck
this all up and her husband to be somewhere else, insulated from the
proceedings, so we're gonna make him watch while a whole bunch of strangers
use his wife like toilet paper."

	Scott took Tony by the arm and led him to the straight chair over by
the pole and said, "Put your left foot on the chair."  He then proceeded to
wrap a leather cuff around Tony's ankle and lock it in place with a small
lock, then attach a chain, similarly locked, and run it from the cuff to the
pole.

	"We don't want him to go anywhere," Martin chuckled.  "I hope he took
a bathroom break..."  That got a chuckle from the crowd.  "That really isn't
enough, though, is it?  The little woman is going to have to get naked and
undergo certain indignities, so it's only fair..."

	"Gimme the robe, Fuckwad," Scott demanded.

	Well, it wasn't really a surprise...  Tony hung his head and shrugged
out of the robe without making a fuss; anything less would have been stupid.
The crowd whistled and catcalled.

	"Turn the fuck around so they can get the full effect..." Scott
directed.  Tony turned to face the crowd.

	"So, when you're watching Momma take dicks, there is your reference
sample..." Martin taunted.  "Not much, is it?"

	Tony's cock, of course, had shrunk to a nub under the loads of fear
and humiliation -- and would have disappeared entirely, if possible.  The
crowd jeered.  Someone called out, "That's a clit!" -- provoking a lot of
nasty laughter.

	"Even this isn't REALLY enough, as I'm sure you'll agree," Martin
said smoothly, "So Hubby will be asked to participate at various times --
pull his share of the load, if you will..."

	Scott leaned in to growl at Tony.  "I don't care WHAT the fuck they
tell you to do -- you do it, understand?  Because if you don't, somebody is
gonna make you hurt -- and THEN you're gonna do it, anyway!  For instance..."
Scott reached in and grabbed Tony by the balls and squeezed...

	Tony would have screamed, but he couldn't breathe to do it!  His eyes
bugged and his mouth opened, but nothing came out...

	Scott let go.  "Sit in the fucking chair," he growled.  Tony did so,
curling himself into a ball.  "I don't care if you ever use those things
again -- or that cock of yours, for that matter, either.  You fucking
remember that when someone asks you for shit."  He whacked Tony on the back
of the head.  "You fucking hear me?"

	Tony nodded, whimpering.  He knew Scott could have squeezed harder,
but his balls felt like they'd been reduced to paste!  He reached down to
confirm that they had any shape to them at all...

	"Now that hubby is properly motivated, I think we can move forward,"
Martin announced.  "Your hosts, of course, get first use, and there is a
short line behind them -- but audience members may participate, too -- for a
fee, you can step up and enjoy the feast, as it were.  What is offered is the
use of any or all of the little woman's holes -- and hubby's, too, for that
matter -- until you've had your fill.  And now, without further ado..."  He
waved at Digger and company.

<1st attachment end>


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