A Quiet Little Town

A Quiet Little Town
By Storysman

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Now Includes Parts I & II!

A tint of orange was already in the sky as Mark and Helen drove along the lake. Being the middle of Fall, the days were already noticeably shorter. The roads were mostly devoid of traffic, which was certainly welcome to the young couple.

Their honeymoon was an unusual one. Instead of traveling to a gorgeous beach in a tropical climate, they had instead opted for a very remote, very lonely stay in the near- wilderness of northern Michigan. They still planned to hit the beaches in Cancun or Key West, but they decided that trip would be best during the coming cold winter. For now, their trip consisted of a week in a private cabin nestled deep in the woods for a week, followed by three days of driving along the shore of Lake Superior before catching a plane and heading home.

Helen snuggled close to her new husband, a permanent smile graced her lips as she took in the scenery. The stay in the cabin had been wonderful, romantic, and full of satisfying sex, but the scenery had actually grown to familiarity and there was something wonderful about wondering what they would encounter around each turn and in each town. The first day of the trip was behind them, and now the second was drawing to a close as the Fall sun was starting to approach the western horizon.

With no schedule to meet, except their plane ride home, Mark and Helen took their stops at leisure. They did have bookings in three separate hotels along the journey, but the check-in times were extremely flexible. So when they approached a series of old- fashion homes and found themselves on a Main Street with the quaintest shops, they eagerly parked their SUV and got out to explore.

The number of people was low, but there was still some life moving up and down the street. Being after Labor Day, the prime tourist season was over. But the weather was unusually warm, summer weather really, and the people basked in the late-season sun in shorts and t-shirts.

Evidently most of the people were locals, Helen reasoned as she noticed the people stop their motions and start in her and Marks direction. Apparently they were surprised to see them. Regardless, a number of them approached Mark and Helen offering "hellos" and "how-do-you-dos."

"Where are you from?" they asked. Mark and Helen answered.

"Why are you here so late in the year?" they explained a little about their honeymoon.

Congratulations flowed readily, and Helen half-expected one of the older women to invite them for dinner. Instead, a stranger question arose from a man who had mostly remained silent. He was a younger man, at least compared to the others. He was also dressed much more formally in a suit and tie. Atop his head was a black derby hat.

"Have you been to our gift shop?" he inquired.

Mark and Helen both answered no. The other townsfolk grew quiet after the question and looked at the man in the derby.

"You really should go, they have some lovely things."

"Yes, lovely things" a few of the others joined in. "Go to the gift shop, you're sure to find something very nice."

"They would love to have you." The man in the derby added, seemingly addressing Helen directly.

"Ok." Mark smiled. "We will check it out. Where is it?" The crowd pointed in unison over Mark's shoulder. About forty yards away was a very nice old-looking house. It appeared to be near the edge of a cliff of sorts, as the reflecting light of Lake Superior flashed in their eyes from behind the shop.

"Shall we?" Mark offered his arm to Helen. She took it with a grin and waved goodbye to the strangers. She chuckled together at the blatant attempt for tourist dollars. Without speaking, they assumed the same thing in that all they would find would be cheap trinkets and postcards.

They entered the gift hop, giddy with the delight of exploration and the romance of the honeymoon. Sure, they would buy something as a remembrance of the trip and the friendly locals. The house itself was completely charming, right down to the white picket fence surrounding the property. The shop seemed mostly empty, but they did notice a few people browsing the items. In addition, they noticed an older woman, probably the owner, behind a register. She was smiling at them, as if she could recognize and share in their joy from one glimpse. She didn't speak at first, not until Mark and Helen took a few more steps into the store and broke their eyes from each other long enough to survey the multitude of collectibles surrounding them.

"Hello." the said with a particularly broad smile. Her eyes seemed lit up, and her face full of excitement. Mark reasoned they must have looked like sure-fire customers for the woman to be so pleased with their arrival.

Mark and Helen returned the greeting and then made their way about the store. They didn't look with any particular interest. They just noted the wind chimes, the cuckoo-clocks, the coasters and the many other items to themselves. Mark secretly hoped he could find some little memento, some symbolic purchase, that his new wife would cherish the rest of their lives. But he didn't want her to see him buy it. He released her hand nonchalantly, and she seemed to interested in some blankets she was eyeing down a flight of stairs in the other section of the shop. She moved to the short flight of steps and Mark knew he had a golden opportunity. He rationalized he should just go to the old woman and ask if they had anything particularly wonderful buried in all their junk. He stepped over to her. He was about to speak but she hadn't turned to face him. She was still watching Helen. Intently. Mark waited a moment, and still the woman did not break her gaze. Perhaps she was concerned with shoplifters, Mark reasoned. He decided to search for the memento on his own. He turned his back to the woman, and started to walk away.

"You have a very lovely wife."

Mark turned to her, figuring she would now be able to help him. She was still staring at Helen, almost as if she was analyzing her.

"Thank you." Mark returned to his search.

Helen, meanwhile, had been examining the soft blankets that lined several shelves. She didn't rally plan to buy one, unless she found just the right combination of colors and softness.

"May I help you find anything?"

Helen looked over her shoulder to the old man who had just walked up to her.

"No, thanks, I'm just browsing."

"I see. Well, please feel free to ask for any assistance."

"Thank you, I will." Helen smiled the man, but he didn't notice it. His eyes were moving up and down Helen's body. This wasn't unusual for her, as men often had a tendency to familiarize themselves with her curves, proportions, and shape before paying her any real attention. But the fact this old shopkeeper was checking her out made her somewhat amused and uncomfortable at the same time.

She returned to examining the selection of blankets. She laughed inwardly of the old man and his eye for the young ladies.

"You know, we do have another room of merchandise if you fail to find anything here that interests you."

"Really? I thought this and the upper level were the whole store."

"Most of the time they are, my dear. Most of the time they are. Please, follow me."

Helen was a little confused by his statement but followed as asked. The man led her to a door that had an "Employees Only" sign above it. Had the man been younger, and had her new husband not been with her, Helen would have never followed him. But as it was, she felt little threat from the shopkeeper, even as he had to unlock the door to gain entrance. She did, however, stay back until he turned the light in the room on and she saw that sure enough, there were shelves and displays and merchandise in the room. She followed him in.

The door shut behind them and the old man put his hand on Helen's shoulder. But it was a nice, friendly old man way not a seducing, or possibly worse, sexual way.

"Please feel free to take your time. I'm sure you can find something in here that you will like."

Helen stepped away as the man stayed at the door. She wondered why they kept part of the store locked off from their customers. But the answer became evident as she really looked the items for sale. The first to catch her eye were some little sculptures. They appeared well-crafted and professional, but each figured a couple in differing sexual positions. From standard missionary to sideways to well depicted from-behind action.

Helen wanted to laugh a bit, and wondered if the old man had sculpted them himself. One thing she was certain of: he got more than a little pleasure by bringing attractive young women into the room and displaying his "merchandise."

She looked around the rest of the room. She started walking as she gazed at the items for sale. The sculptures went from those of couples to those of threesomes and foursomes. All depicted multiple men, but only one woman.

"I'm sorry, I don't think anything here interests me."

"Are you sure? What about over here?"

He lead Helen to the next aisle. The shelves here were lined with vibrators and dildos of varying length.

"These models are especially unique."

Did she dare ask? "Why is that?"

"They ejaculate." He said calmly. "Multiple times. To simulate the experience of many men." His face had taken an eerie look to it. It frightened Helen. She hadn't thought rape, not from an old man, but his look was still plenty disquieting.

"I'd better be going." She said and headed for the main area of the store. The old man followed close behind.

Mark was close to the door and smiled as he saw his wife.

Helen didn't stop her movement. "Ready to go?" She asked.

Mark stood as she brushed by him. He was about to insist that she stop and explain her hasty exit when the old man's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"You have a very lovely wife."

Mark looked at the man and quickly deduced he had somehow made his wife uncomfortable. He quickly left to join her.

Helen was laughing about the situation before long. She explained the sexual figures and the dildos to her husband. He laughed as well, figuring the old man still had the urge to get off somehow.

"You are really very lovely." Mark teased as they sped down the road.

"Oh really? Why thank you."

Mark look his wife up and down. She was lovely. Gorgeous. He had thought so the moment he lied eyes on her. Had fell in love with her shortly after that.

Helen was a striking brunette. Her long black hair swept don onto perfect shoulders, which curved their way into perfectly sized, firm, round breasts. She was a little taller than the average woman, which gave her long supple legs that rivaled those of any woman he had ever seen. The starting and titillation of the old man was nothing new. Men loved to look at his wife. Men loved to indulge in certain thoughts about his wife.

"I bet he was picturing you naked." Mark teased.

"Ewww.." Helen smiled back at him.

Mark paused, then took a moments glance at his wife. "I'm picturing you naked." He said.

"Really?" Helen's smile broadened. She was wearing a black, button-down sweater. While looking at Mark, she began to undo the buttons with one hand. After a few, she revealed a pink bra and glimpse of perfect cleavage.

"Does your picture look anything like this?" she asked.

"Hmmm. pretty close, but I think I need more detail.

Helen finished the unbuttoning. Mark glanced from the road to his wife's increasingly bare breasts. Helen flicked aside the sweater from her chest and moved her hands to the bra. It clasped in the front and she skillfully opened it without looking.

Mark licked his lips her two pert, perfect breasts jiggled free. Helen's nipples were erect.

"How about this?" she asked.

"Getting better. I still need a little more detail.

Helen was wearing jeans. She undid her belt and followed that by unzipping her zipper. A matching pair of silky pink panties came into view. Helen slipped her hand inside them, pulling them slightly from her skin. She couldn't reveal her pussy, but strands of hair lifted above the fabric.

"That's just about it." Mark sad.

Helen moved her fingers delicately inside her panties.

"Mark?" She fluttered her eyes at her husband.

"Yes?"

"I need your cock inside me."

Mark pulled over to the side of the road. The traffic was nonexistent. If anyone had come by, they might have caught a glimpse of a young man making love to his new bride.

"I bet he wanted to see your nipples." Mark teased. "And I bet he wanted to lick your pussy."

"Mmm." Helen smiled.

"I'm going to do all the things to you that I bet he wanted to do."

He leaned over to his wife and spread his palm over the right bra cup.

"Oh, Mark, oh baby."

"First, I'm going to feel your breasts."

Mark reached behind his bride and undid the clasp of the bra. Helen helped lower the pink fabric from her breasts. Her nipples poked into view, her areolas nearly as pink as the bra. Mark groped his wife's bosom for a few minutes as he kissed her.

"I'm going to finger your cunt." Mark said in an old-man voice attempt.

Mark climbed into the back of the SUV and lowered the seats. Helen climbed back to join him, laying down on the flat surface with her head at the back of the vehicle. Mark slid off her jeans, fully revealing her long, golden legs. Her thighs were firm, and their complexion creamy. Mark's eyes centered on the sight of the area covered by the panties. They were normally tight-fitting, but removing the jeans had slid them down her legs somewhat. A small section of loose pink fabric hung loosely over her vagina. Mark slid up towards it, then slipped his finger in through the leg-hole.

"Oh, God." Helen. Moaned. "Oh, Mark.".

He pushed in and out of his wife for a minute or so, until she gave him the next command.

"Lick my cunt, baby." Helen cooed.

"That was next on my list." Mark laughed.

Mark pushed his tongue into his wife. He probed her through the panties, occasionally slipping it inside the pink satin and inside her pink opening. Helen squirmed and writhed as her voice moaned. Her hands massaged Mark's hair.

"Now I want to hump you." Mark said.

"I think I want you to." Replied Helen.

Mark removed her panties, then removed his own pants and underwear. He climbed atop his wife. His cock was fully erect. Helen took hold, helping to guide it inside her. Mark began thrusting inside.

The SUV was rocking from their motions. Mark rammed inside his wife, feeling the pleasure of her cunt as his eyes soaked in the sight of his naked bride.

The they heard a rapping.

Mark looked over his shoulder. A police officer was at the driver's side window. The flashing of his police lights hit Mark in the eyes. Mark scrambled to the front seat. His shirt hung low enough to cover his penis, so he didn't bother to redress. Helen, however, clutched for her jeans. Her sweater, however, was still in the front seat. The officer was looking back towards her. She reminded herself his visibility should be limited by the tinted windows, but it nevertheless felt uncomfortable. "Everything ok here?" the officer asked Mark.

"Yes, yes. Fine, officer."

The officer leaned his head in the open window. He looked at Helen, who was unsuccessfully trying to conceal her breasts with her hands. The officer looked at her. He stared at her.

"You want to be here, Ms?"

"Yes, of course, he's my husband."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!"

The man turned back to Mark. "I'm sure you two have a room somewhere?"

Mark nodded.

"I suggest that in the future you wait to have your fun until you get off the road and back to your room."

"Sorry, officer, I got a little carried away."

The cop looked back in the open window at Helen. She had her nipples covered, and her jeans spread over her crotch, but the fullness of her breasts were still naked, as were much of her legs. The officer turned back to Mark.

"I can see why." He looked again at Helen, then back at Mark.

"You have a very lovely wife. Tell you what, where are you staying?"

Mark told him their hotel. The officer motioned for him to wait, and went to his car. He came back in a moment. The time gave Helen a chance to pull on her jeans and bra. When the officer returned, he again took a long stare at Helen, who was fumbling with her sweater. She knew he was looking at her, and that he was turned on by her. She was used to arousing policemen when pulled over before, but she had never been so undressed. She began to think of what he could make them do if he abused his power.

"Here, it's a gift certificate for your hotel restaurant. Free dinner. We sometimes pass 'em out to tourists."

"How'd you know we were tourists?" Mark asked, taking the coupon. After all, his plates were from Michigan.

"Oh, I just assumed. I just assumed."

Mark and Helen returned to their hotel. The raced to their room, intent on satisfying their still burning desires.

"Get into bed." Helen said softly to her husband.

Mark obliged. He excitedly crawled under the sheets, and began removing his clothing. Helen stood at the foot of the bed, looking incredibly seductive. She moved her hands to the zipper of her jeans, slowly pulling the metal trip downward. Mark's cock pulsed with lust as he saw a flash of her pink panties. Helen moved her hips as though listening to some phantom music. She moved her hands to her hair, letting the length cascade through her fingers and down her shoulders. She made very subtle humping motions were her hips, causing the exposed area of panties to become larger. Mark moved his hands to his cock, needing to relieve some pressure.

Helen unbuttoned her sweater, still swaying her body as she did. One-by-one the buttons came apart, causing her pink bra and full breasts to become ever-so-more visible. She moved her fingers to her nipples, squeezing slightly through the pink. Mark's eyes wanted to roll back into his head. He couldn't imagine feeling any more happy and in love than he did at that moment. His heart ached with the passion her felt for his bride, and his penis throbbed with the animal lust she inspired.

Helen pulled her jeans off her legs, stepping out of them with the grace of a dancer. Mark's eyes looked up the length of her perfect claves and thighs. Her panties were tightly pressed against her cuntal area. Little folds appeared and disappeared as she moved her hips. Mark loved watching panties shift on Helen. They seemed all the more beautiful when animated by her body. Everything seemed more beautiful when on or near his wife. Now she stood before him, in an open sweater and in panties. The sight was nearly overwhelming. Mark had to release his cock a moment -- he was too near orgasm. Helen, sensing his need, and perhaps her own, removed the sweater, opened her bra, and let it slip to the floor. She playfully teased him with the panties, however, pulling them down and back up again several times before finally making herself nude.

Helen climbed on the bed, motioning for Mark to stay how he was, flat on his back. She them motioned for him to pull the sheet down, which he did. Helen mounted her husband, letting her breasts dangle and fall into his face. Mark smelled the sweet scent of her perfume wash over him, and the sweet feeling of her legs rubbing against his. Helen took hold of Mark's cock, and guided it into her pussy. Mark thrust upward, but Helen pushed him onto the bed. She was going to make love to him, and it was his duty to enjoy it.

Helen humped her husband slowly, very slowly at first. Her cunt was already wet, but the slow penetration made it all the more soaking. Mark could feel the wetness and warmth on his cock. The tip was dying to go inside faster, dying to work towards release, but he let his wife run the show. She did let him take turns taking her nipples into his mouth. He just couldn't thrust. He couldn't make the moves that would force out his sperm.

Slowly, Helen increased her pace. As she did, her breathing quickened, and her moans grew loud. The sound of her voice in sexual heat was ecstasy to Mark, fueling his own want incredibly. Helen seemed to be completely getting of on his cock. She even stopped brushing her hair out of her face. She had her mouth locked open, emitting moans each time she plunged herself onto the shaft. Her lips were quivering, and Mark realized his own were as well. He loved her so much. he needed to be with her, near her, and inside her.

He couldn't help himself now. Mark arched his back, driving his cock deep inside Helen. She squealed and moaned, but accepted the extra effort. Together they bucked and humped on the bed, working their sex to a fever-pitch. Helen's throat caught with the spell of orgasm, and Mark quickly followed. The sound of his wife reaching climax flipped his own switch, and he felt the pulsing surge of his sperm and semen explode into Helen's cunt.

She collapsed on him, and the couple laid in bed for a good while, slowly kissing and massaging each other's naked bodies. Eventually, they forced themselves up, put their clothes back on, and headed for the hotel's restaurant.

Mark waited for his bride outside the restaurant entrance. His body still tingled from their sex, and his heart felt warm as he thought about Helen and his luck. Mark wasn't dumb, he knew he had a beautiful wife and while he was by no means unattractive, he was not her male equal in the looks department. He knew people thought she could do better, at least in terms of finding someone more handsome, and, that's part of why he felt so lucky. Helen wasn't mired in trying to have the best-looking husband. And, in truth, he wasn't mired in having to have a trophy wife. Helen's physical beauty was simple an bonus to her character. She was intelligent, loyal, fun-loving and all-in-all a wonderful person. He couldn't help but love her.

Mark moved to a small garden to his right. The hotel was filled with plants and trees, creating a very tropical atmosphere. Plenty of glass allowed plenty of light, and little fountains created flowing streams of water throughout the lobby. Mark gazed at a tree just a few inches from him. Feeling romantic, he took out a small pocketknife and began to carve on the trunk, looking around first to make sure no one saw what eh was doing. He simply carved 'H & M,' stood back, and smiled. Helen came out of the bathroom, and kissed her new husband after seeing his handy-work.

"I love you." She breathed into his ear.

Mark felt his desire for his bride swelling in him again. He couldn't wait to get her back to the room after dinner. They made there way inside, and were greeted by a friendly waiter. Mark decided on steak right away, but Helen was studied her menu for quite some time, giving Mark a chance to examine the dining area, which was almost as nice as the lobby. Mark noticed his waiter across the room.

The waiter, like many of the men they had encountered recently, was taking long stares at Helen. Mark figured that the rural area rarely had such beautiful women, but it still began to anger him. The waiter actually seemed pleased when he came back to take their order and saw the coupon the officer provided. He brought out a fancy bottle of wine in addition to their order, indicating the couple must finish it all in order to receive the meal free. Mark assumed he was joking. As they grew tipsy with the alcohol, Mark became less and less aware of the staring waiter, or the other waiters who came by to check on them. But they never looked at Mark, they only looked at Helen. They poured the wine for her, asked what else they could do for her, and even escorted her to the ladies room. While she was gone, the manager even came by the table. He did look at Mark, and spoke a single sentence.

"You have a very lovely wife."

Helen found it hard to wake up the next morning. The problem was complicated by the fact that Mark was as innate in bed as she. Her mind was partially aware of her surroundings, but most of the time in oblivious slumber. One thing kept creeping into her subconscious thoughts, however. A strange, uneasy feeling that the length of the night was unusually long.

She didn't mind long nights. She rather enjoyed any chance for extra sleep that she got. But something didn't seem right about this. She could have sworn at one point the room was light, too light for the early morning. But after a much later semi-are moment, it seemed as dark as the night had ever been.

Her impaired mind rationalized even in her sleep. Dreams, just different dreams. She couldn't force herself awake anyway, the sleep had too strong a hold on her.

Eventually the sleep gave way to wakefulness. Her arms felt incredibly heavy as she pulled the sheet from her body. Mark was still sleeping. He was face-down in the pillow, completely unmoving except for the slight rise of his back with each breath. Helen sat up in the bed for a long moment, trying to shale the cobwebs from her mind. She did feel well-rested, just dazed. Perhaps it was the intense sex that had tired her out. The previous nights humping sessions seemed like days ago. They had returned to their room, horny and drunk and full of mad passionate love for each other. She smiled at the thought and hoped Mark would soon awaken to continue their exploits.

Eventually she arose from bed and moved over to the dresser at the far side of the room. She brushed the flowing blonde hair from her face and examined her eyes. She instantly found faults in her early-morning face that no other person would identify. She felt the urge to shower and redo her makeup lest her husband see her so unbeautiful.

She reached her hands behind her back to undo the clasp on the satiny white bra. She quickly realized it was a front clasp bra and attributed the mistake to her sleepiness. She pulled the bra from her breasts as she moved towards the bathroom. After draping the bra on the sink, she turned on the shower and began to pull her panties down.

But she froze.

Her eyes looked down the length of her body, past her naked breasts and at the smooth satin panties that were her only clothing. She didn't know how they got on. Her mind clearly recalled the previous nights events, and she vividly recalled falling asleep in her husbands arms nude. Her first thought was that either she had awoken to dress herself in or that perhaps her husband had. She stood there next to the open shower trying to remember the events perfectly. It was one thing if she had been dressed in the night without her memory, but it was still odd that she hadn't been dressed in the pink bra and panties she had worn to bed. Yes, she was certain she was wearing pink when she stripped for her husband. Sure of it!

And...

Helen felt even more confused. She was wearing white satin panties with a white satin bra. A front-clasp bra.

Helen didn't own a white front-clasp bra.

Helen darted back into the bedroom to confirm. She opened the top drawer of the dresser. The same drawer she had placed her undergarments in the day the arrived. It was empty. She opened the drawer underneath. Empty. Helen opened each subsequent drawer to find that not a single article of clothing remained except for the panties she had on and the bra that was draped across the sink. Someone had taken everything.

"Mark! Mark! Wake up!"

Mark stirred slightly, but didn't awake. Helen continued to search the room as she screamed to her husband. Her assumptions of robbery were changed as she realized every other belonging was sill present in the room. Mark's watch, their laptop, their cell phone. Who would come in and steal only their clothes?

Helen shook her husband hard, but still he didn't wake up. Helen grabbed the phone, beginning to wonder if her husband was seriously ill. She dialed the front desk, ready to plead for help. But the line never picked up.

Helen alternated between dialing the phone and shaking her husband over the next few minutes. Neither effort resulted in success. Helen began to panic. She dialed '9' on the phone, hoping to get an outside line and call for help herself. But the line was dead. The fearful thought began to grow inside Helen's mind. If she wanted help, she would have to leave the room. Helen stood up, and headed for the door. Realizing she was bare- breasted, Helen took a moment to snatch her bra and refasten it over her chest. That was the last concern she had for her modesty. She opened the door, and ran into the hallway.

She went directly to the front desk. But no one was behind it. She began exploring the hotel in her underwear, looking for any sign of human life. There was none. She was in complete panic now. Helen ran back into the hallway and began knocking on room doors. She knocked hard one ach one, screaming for help. No one came to the door, not a single person in any of the rooms.

Helen fell to the middle of the floor and wept. She felt completely confused and afraid. What the hell was going on? What was happening? She prayed Mark was awake. She rushed back to her own room, noting the room numbers on the doors as she passed. Finding hers, she opened the door to her bedroom and ran to the bed. Mark was unconscious, and foaming at the mouth. Helen shrieked. She brushed the hair from her new husband's face and kissed him. But he still wasn't waking. Her heart pounding, Helen hugged her husband and had only one thought of what to do. She had to leave the hotel. She had to go outside to find help.

Still dressed in only a white panties and a white, front-clasping bra, Helen again ran down the hallway, this time past the front desk and to the main doors of the hotel. The early morning sun was slightly blinding to her as she stepped outside. She ran past the drop-off curb and into the parking lot.

But there were no cars.

Helen turned to look at the hotel from which she had just run.

It wasn't theirs.

Mark stood at the front desk, dressed only in his jeans. He needed to speak with someone, anyone, but the desk was vacant at the moment. He was still trying to get his bearings. He had woken up with a heavy feeling of grogginess. He had felt for his bride, but discovered she was not in the bed next to him. The bathroom. he had figured. When he finally gained the strength to look for her, he discovered she was gone. He assumed she must be down the hall, getting something from a vending machine or something. Still, she hadn't returned.

Could she have left me?

Mark wouldn't accept the thought. He knew his bride loved him as much as he loved her. He knew they were soul mates. She wouldn't leave him! Still, he checked their drawers. They were empty. None of Helen's clothes or suitcases were in the room. He might have panicked at this point as he started to believe the unbelievable, but one fact saved him from self-torment: none of his clothes or luggage were there, either. He struggled hard to remember the previous days events. Could he have somehow gotten in the wrong room? Mark studied the surroundings carefully. Everything looked as though he remembered it. He even saw the tree from the previous night where he had carved his and Helen's initials. With the front desk still vacant, Mark decided to take the short walk over to the tree and reexamine his work.

But the markings weren't there. Mark studied every inch of the tree. It appeared to be the same one. The size and shape were exactly what he remembered. But no carvings! Could he be someplace else? He had to be!

"Excuse me, " mark asked when an attendant greeted him, "this is going to sound strange, but can you tell me where I am?"

"Certainly, sir, that doesn't sound strange at all."

"Well, I'm a little confused. I went to bed with my wife in our room last night, only to wake up here."

"What's so strange about that, sir?"

"This is a different hotel!" Mark was sure this was the case. Naturally, his first concern was the location of his wife, who was not at his side in bed, not in the room, and so far not in the hotel. He assumed she was in the correct hotel, and somehow he had wound up here.

"Sir, I can assure you, this is the same hotel. I have you as checking in on last Thursday, is that correct?"

"Yes, we got here, I mean, got to our hotel last Thursday. But it wasn't this place. Our room has no luggage, no clothes or supplies. I, I carved initials on that tree over there, and now there gone. Everything else is the same, like this place was made from the same plans, but this is not the same hotel."

"Well, sir, I've been in every day since last Thursday and this place hasn't changed in that time. Perhaps you don't remember things clearly, you are on your honeymoon!"

"Well, it was a magical night but not that magical! Something is going on here, and I intend to find out."

"Certainly, sir."

Mark turned away in disgust, but was unsure of what direction to walk in. Nevertheless, he began walking with a determined stride.

"By the way, sir." The bell-hop called to him.

"Yes?"

"You have a very lovely wife."

-Part II -

Helen was now blocks away from the hotel. Still, she hadn't seen a soul. Considering her skimpy state of dress that was fine with her. Ironically, she was almost getting comfortable with her near state of undress. She almost wished Mark was out- about-town and she could surprise him in her sexy attire.

She chastised herself for that thought. The issues at hand were more important than a sex fantasy with her husband. For all she knew, she had been drugged and raped by God-knows-who and her husband left for dead. She had to find help. She wondered how Mark was doing, if he had woken up. Who knew what was wrong with him. Who knew if he was even going to live. Helen bit her lip and sobbed as the worry for her new husband swelled within her. God, she loved him. Nothing could have happened to him, could it? And nothing would happen to her.

Would it?

Mark was wasn't sure what to feel. His mind was a blend of panic, anger, and frustration. As he neared the doors of the hotel, he swore to himself that he would find Helen, then worry about what actions to take against those who had created the situation.

Unfortunately, those plans were immediately called into question. Mark opened the doors of the hotel and realized, quite profoundly, that he didn't know where he was. He already knew that his was not the hotel he had been staying at with his wife for that past four days, but it was the town, either.

He ran into the street, hoping to see something that would give him a sense of bearing. After all, he had only been walking the streets for four days. But nothing was familiar. A few turns in each direction confirmed his lack of placement. He started down a street, looking for something or somebody that could give him some sense of what was going on.

He walked about a block before noticing a black limousine had pulled up next to him. It was creeping along very slowly, just fast enough to catch him but it was obvious that whoever was inside intended to speak with Mark. The window came down, and a man wearing a black derby hat poked out.

"Hello, sir! Good morning!"

Mark replied with an understated "Good morning."

"Are you enjoying your stay in our quiet little town?"

"Actually I'm not staying."

"Oh no?" Mark was continuing to walk. The limo kept perfect pace with him. "We have much to offer here, you know. Much to offer."

"Well, I'd best be on my way." Mark was in no mood for a casual chat. "I'm sure it's quite a lovely place, but."

"Yes, very lovely. And full of lovely people. I really think you should remain, you and your very lovely wife."

Mark froze.

"My wife?"

"Would you like to come inside?" The man motioned towards Mark.

"Do you know where my wife is?"

"Come inside, sir. We'll talk."

"I'm not sure I want to. It's never been a habit of mine to accept rides from strangers."

Another man appeared in the window. "I'm afraid you have no choice."

The statement startled Mark, and he was a little slow to get moving. The men were out of the car in a flash. Before he could hit full stride, Mark felt the two men clutching at his sleeves. He struggled, but felt a needle push into his arm. The men let go, but Mark was already down to one knee. His vision blurred as he looked at his attackers, both dressed in black derby hats.

Mark went down to his second knee, and the last image he had was that of the sidewalk a few inches from his face.

Mark felt the tug of restraints on his arms has consciousness returned to him. He was no longer outside, nor was he in the limo. He was in a plain, dimly lit room. The men in the derby hats were there. It was only moments before they realized he was awake.

"Hello, again, Mark." It was the one who addressed him on the street.

Mark didn't answer.

"I'm sorry we had to bring you here under such unusual terms, but I'm afraid it was absolutely necessary."

"What's going on? Are you kidnapping me?"

"Oh no, Mark. Oh no." Mark wondered how they knew his name, but felt with all the other weird things happening that it was a small matter. "We are merely occupying you for awhile."

Mark looked around the room, but saw nothing to help him gain his bearings. "Is my wife here?"

"Helen? No Helen is not here."

So they knew his wife, too. Her name, anyway.

"Helen is not here - anymore."

Mark's body tried to leap up out of the chair, but restraints held him firmly in place. In a flash, he imagined Helen's terror at being abducted and his inability to help her. He made his whole body ache.

"Relax, mark, relax."

"Where is she? Did you hurt her? If you did."

"Your wife is fine, Mark, believe me when I say we had no intention of harming her. In fact, we rather significantly enjoyed her company."

"Where is she?"

"She's in town, my friend! In town! She's being quite well taken care of."

"What do you want from us? Is it money?"

"No, no, we don't want money. There are much greater assets to be had."

Mark's brow curled at the comment. "What assets?"

"What it boils down to is this." the man said without looking at Mark. "We want your wife. We want her to come and live her with us. We want her to take her place in our community."

"I don't understand."

The man turned and faced Mark. "Your wife is very beautiful. Exquisitely beautiful. Our town has a special fondness for such beauty. A special fondness and expression of sexuality. We want your wife, Mark, so we can engage in sexual pleasure with her."

Mark was stunned. He stared back at the man, open-mouthed.

"The women in our community," the man continued, " are free to any resident. As are the men. At any time I can walk up to any woman in your village and request sexual intercourse. It is her duty to provide it. The same goes for the men, but.

"But what?" Mark couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"But, we're not on that committee!" the man laughed as he said it. "There is a group of women responsible for the task of choosing the men."

"So you want us to move to your town to participate in what's basically a mass orgy?"

"No, Mark. We want your wife for that orgy. We don't choose the men. And, unfortunately for you, the committee for obtaining men doesn't want you, you're just not attractive enough. How you got Helen to marry you has surprised us all."

Mark almost felt offended. "Well, guess, what, you can't have her! You say you don't want me, well I am sure that she doesn't want you!"

"You may be right, Mark. But she will."

"What do you mean?"

"Our committees simply don't ask people to join or community. Well, sometimes they ask the men. Men are so much easier to convince to join us than the women. Anyway, we have our means of persuasion. You see, we've already spent quite a bit of time with your wife, Mark. Quite a bit of time."

"You're lying."

"Am I? The I suppose I'd be lying when I tell you that I saw Helen naked. In fact, I'm the one who took off her clothes when she was brought here. And I suppose I'd be lying when I told you that I ran my hands down her beautiful body, and that I rubbed the little mole I found on the right side of her cunt!"

Mark's breath caught in his throat. Could he have guessed that? He realized how easily they had drugged him, and of course the fact that Helen was no where to be found when he awoke. If they did have her, their taking advantage of her was a logical outcome.

Mark began to cry. "God damn you. God damn you!"

"You have a very lovely wife."

"Did you rape her?" mark asked, fearing the worst.

"Now how would that help us, Mark? We want our wife to want to join us, not fear us. Yes, we could have raped her. Easily. But her heart wouldn't have been into it. Not her soul. Not her lust. We want your wife Mark, body and soul. That is accomplished by making her realize that this is the one place in the world where she can be most happy. And do you know how we do that, Mark? Do you?"

"No."

"By making her fantasies come true. That's it."

"What fantasies?"

"The ones deep inside her, Mark. The ones that curl up deep, deep in her mind and occasionally come out to tickle her pussy. The ones that are so carnal, so lustful, that she hasn't even shared them with you. The ones that make her want to fuck, Mark. To fuck men and fuck them often."

"I know my wife. I know her fantasies. I think I know what she wants."

"Well, we'll see about that. You don't have the power that we do, Mark. Nor the experience. You may think you're a great lover, but you can't compete with what she really wants."

"And what is that? What does she want that she hasn't told me?"

"I'm glad you asked that, Mark. Because it's just about time to give her some of what she wants. You see, we had her for quite some time. All of yesterday as a matter of fact."

"What are you talking about? We we're together all day yesterday!"

"That was the day before yesterday, my friend. You went to bed that night, and didn't wake up until just a little while ago. We saw to that. And while you were taking your nice long nap, we took you from your hotel room. We brought lovely Helen here, where I had the distinct privilege of undressing her . What a joy that was, Mark. I have to tell you I took my time. She has the most perfectly formed breasts, but what I really love is her cunt. So feminine. So soft. I bet it's nice and tight, isn't it Mark. God, I can't wait to fuck her."

"Fuck you!"

"Anyway, we put your wife into a nice state of relaxation. We have the best men for that sort of thing. A nice, deep state. She was awake, but not herself. She was stripped of all conscious knowledge of her surroundings, who she was. We spoke with the animal in her. The carnal animal full of lusts and needs. I will tell you this, Mark, you have satisfied her quite well, all things considered. But not completely. Not like we can. She told us all her deepest fantasies, the ones that make her wet when you aren't doing it for her."

"Shut up, please shut the fuck up."

"I will in just a moment, because then we have a little TV for you to watch. In a few minutes, we'll be enacting one of your wife's fantasies. Of course, she won't know it, she won't even consciously recognize it. But her body will. Her body will come alive for reasons she doesn't even know. You'll never have seen her so in need of a good fucking. But that won't happen - not yet. Now, please watch."

A screen lit up across from Mark. He saw Helen! She was walking. The camera was zoomed in on her face, and Mark could see the fear and worry in her features. The camera started to pull back.

"What! What have you done with her clothes? You're making her walk around half-naked!"

"It's what she wants Mark. Oh, you mean you didn't know about this fantasy? She never told you she fantasized about walking around in a public place in her underwear, knowing that at any moment she might be seen? She's got a little exhibitionism in her, Mark. Being stared at by men gets her wet, did you know that? Did you know that when she's out, she intentionally lets her nipples poke visibly through her shirts? Or that she leaves her legs open slightly when she's wearing a miniskirt so men can see her panties?"

Mark was silent. The man drew in close. "Did you know she fantasizes about your best man? That when she's alone in the house her hands slip inside her panties and rubs her clit, pretending that she is with him? Oh, she doesn't let herself think the thought that clearly. She feels to guilty. But when your cock pushes into her, her body wishes it was him. He's so good-looking, and you are not. She could have such a better man, and though she married you, a better man is exactly what her heart wants."

Mark refused to respond. He stared at the screen ahead, convinced the man's words were meant only to hurt him, and did not have any truth. Helen had fantasies, of course. And probably some she didn't share. But she loved him, and would never desire attention from other men and certainly not sex.

"Now, this fantasy actually leads to another one, Mark. Let's see if you can figure out what it is.

The clock underneath a bank sign indicated she had been gone almost an hour. The weirdness of not seeing anyone in the streets of this quiet little town was turning into paranoia. Something wasn't right with this place. Ideas from the simple to the insane were racing through her thoughts. Maybe everyone was at a parade. Maybe everyone was at a church she hadn't discovered yet. Maybe a chemical plant had accidentally unleashed some horrible virus to which only she was immune. One thing was certain, she wasn't likely to find anyone simply by crawling around in the bushes. She had come to realize her best asset in finding help was the very near-nakedness she had hoped to conceal. Certainly people would notice a woman walking down the street in broad daylight in rather a suggestive bra-and-panty set. Certainly men would, anyway.

Helen stepped out of the trees and walked to the middle of the street. She took a deep breath and walked assuredly towards the center of town.

The wind was kicking up. She hadn't really noticed it in the trees but it was now lifting her hair from her shoulders and curling around various parts of her body. She felt a slight chill on her nipples, and the slight hardening that followed. She felt a rather caressing, warm sensation swoop around and between her legs. Amazingly, she felt the smallest creep of sexual arousal as her panties rubbed against her vagina in the soft wind. Earlier she had shocked herself with a sexual fantasy in the midst of this confusion. Now she was actually sensing physical excitement! She would have spent some time contemplating what was wrong with her if there weren't more important matters at hand.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

A voice!

Helen turned and saw a police officer. A young, strong and handsome police officer.

"Oh thank God!"

The policeman approached, smiling. His eyes couldn't help but do a quick once- over of the nearly-nude attractive woman he was approaching. "You look a little lost." He said warmly.

"I guess I am, I don't know what's going on! I woke up this morning in my hotel room only it wasn't my hotel room and I was dressed in this and I've never seen these clothes before and I think my husband has been drugged and."

"Hold on, hold on. Calm down a second." Helen stopped, but continued to breathe heavily.

"Ok, now what exactly is wrong? Are you lost or not?"

"No, I'm not lost! Well, I guess I am, but that's only part of it. Don't you want to know why I'm walking down the street in my underwear?"

The officer looked at her quizzically. "There's nothing wrong with walking down in the street in your underwear, in fact, I rather enjoy seeing you do it."

Helen's voice stuttered. His comment offended her; he was supposed to protect the people and instead was making sexual jokes at her expense.

"Look, " she resumed, "I'm not supposed to be in my underwear. My husband and I went to bed last night, I then woke up this morning in this outfit, which isn't mine."

"Were you two drinking last night?"

"Yes, some, but."

"Were you taking anything else?"

"No! We weren't! Anyway, when I woke up I realized that we weren't even in our hotel, we were in a different one! And my husband wouldn't wake up, he would just grunt and turn over, like he was, like he was."

"Drugged?"

Helen caught her defensive breath in her throat, and then knew the point he was going to make. She nodded.

"Sounds to me like there was something besides alcohol involved last night. Sure seems to me that the two of you overloaded your senses. He probably bought that rather lovely outfit your wearing for you. Due to your physical condition, you probably determined you couldn't make it back to your hotel so you stayed at the nearest one. In the morning, you simply recovered from whatever you took faster than your husband has."

"I don't remember anything like that."

"I think it's a valid theory about what happened. You may not have even realized what you were taking, your husband may have simply slipped it into your drink."

"I can't believe he'd do that. I can't believe it."

"Well, were you robbed?"

"No."

"You say you don't recognize your clothes, and don't remember putting them on. Do you think you've been, um, well, do you think you've been raped?"

"No. I don't think so. But whomever put me in these clothes obviously saw me naked, and probably fondled me."

"And that person was probably your husband."

Helen thought about his points. For the most part, they seemed to make sense, except for the suggestion that mark had drugged her. He wasn't into drugs, and certainly didn't need to drug her to fondle her or make love to her. Maybe it was just too much alcohol, even though she didn't remember more than a couple of drinks.

"Will you come back to the hotel with me? To check on my husband?"

"Certainly."

They turned and started back.

"Where is everyone this morning? I was beginning to think the town was deserted."

"I suppose everyone is at home or in church, it is Sunday."

Sunday!!! Helen froze.

"What's wrong, Ms.?"

"It's Sunday? When I went to bed with my husband, it was Friday."

The events were difficult for Mark to watch. He wanted so desperately to call out to his wife - to somehow warn her. His emotions layered with frustration. At once he was aware of the plans for Helen, aware of the lust in the police officer's eyes for his wife, aware that he was powerless to do anything help his beloved bride. Even if he escaped, he didn't know where she was.

How excruciating it was. And yet, he still saw Helen's beauty. In the midst of it all, he saw an alluring women dressed to the pinnacle of a man's fantasy. But it was her fantasies they were after.

It was her they were after.

Helen had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she really hadn't been paying attention to the direction in which she and the officer were walking. She had been walking steadily, arms folded over her breasts, eyes cast downward. But when the policeman came to a stop, she knew she wasn't at the hotel. She looked up and saw a saw the sign "Police Station."

"What are we doing here? I thought we were going back?"

"Ma'am, you are experiencing obvious symptoms of drug use. I think it's safest for you if we check you out." He took her by the arm and led her inside.

The station was quiet. Even more so when they walked in. There were maybe a half-dozen officers scattered around the room, and every one of there eyes turned and fixed on Helen as she entered.

Helen was led past them, to a door at the back of the room. The officer remained quiet as they entered. Helen was completely confused. She began to wonder if they were going to arrest her. The officer looked at her as if he was waiting for something. Helen thought that he was looking for some indication of drug use at first, but then wondered if it was something else. Something sexual. She could clearly see that his eyes hovered on her breasts for long moments, and then up and down her hips and legs. She began to feel quite uncomfortable.

Helen heard a door open behind them and she turned to see the remaining officers come in. There were five in all - she wasn't sure how many she had seen when they first entered the building.

The men formed a circle around her and adopted the stare of the original officer. She was definitely concerned. Horrible thoughts were trying to enter her mind, but she forced them away before making them full conscious. She felt completely naked, perhaps even worse in her skimpy attire.

The original officer stepped up to her and handed her a small cup.

"Drink this. It should counteract any of the drugs that may still be in your system."

Helen took the cup, unbelieving of the officer's statements. But she drank it anyway.

The officer nodded, then took the cup from her. "I'm afraid that we now have to determine how deep into this drug thing you are."

"What do you mean? I'm not into drugs at all!"

"For all we know, you plan to sell to the youths in our community."

"That's ridiculous! I don't sell drugs! I don't even take them!"

"I think we've determined that you do take them. Now we must see how else you may be involved. We have to search you?"

Helen now understood. The drug charge was a ruse. They wanted her in here to take advantage of her. She looked around the room. The officers were all young, physically fit an attractive. Ironically, she had had fantasies about very similar situations.

Each one of them looked calmly back at her. Their faces were drawn with serious expressions. If they were truly attempting to have their way with her, then why weren't they ogling, hooting, or making crass comments? They almost had her convinced that they were concerned she was on drugs.

Could they really be? Was her mind simply playing tricks on her?

Helen felt feint. Her legs weakened and she nearly collapsed, but one of the officers had grabbed her by the shoulders while another set a chair underneath her. She seemed to float onto it.

"Now, " the original officer said, "we have to determine if you have any drugs on you."

Helen's mind was reeling. She felt uncertain, yet she was starting to feel less afraid. Her thoughts were swimming.

"Look at me." She said quietly as she flung her arms out to indicate her entire body. "Where could I put any drugs in this outfit?"

An officer stepped up from behind her. She sensed his presence without seeing him. Her eyes closed and she could see him quite clearly in her thoughts. He was handsome. Very much so.

Helen leaned back in her chair as the officer's hands slid onto her breasts. At the precise moment of contact, Helen felt a jump of sensation between her legs.

The officer's hands didn't grope. They didn't even squeeze. They moved softly over the bra with an occasional poking motion. He was testing to see if everything in there was really her flesh, Helen reasoned.

The other officers closed in. Even though her eyes were closed, Helen could see all of them. Those fine, athletic, strong policemen with whom she felt completely safe. She felt their hands on her at once. She felt them on her legs, her arms, and her shoulders. She a finger poke at her lips, and she opened her mouth. She felt the finger probe inside. Lightly, softly.

The fingers on her breasts were removed. Even still, she felt the hot, lustful feeling between her legs growing. She felt ashamed that her body was responding so easily to the situation. They were searching her for drugs, she was on her honeymoon, she was happy with one man. So why was her body becoming aroused when there was know reason for it to.

She felt a hand cup her on her panties. The fingers pushed with gentle force, and she felt them firmly with her cunt. The touch itself was light, but it became magnified by the nerves between her legs. She shifted in her chair, and exhaled loudly enough she was sure the officers heard.

It was one finger, one simple finger that slipped softly into the indentation formed in her panties by her pussy. It was with a feather-touch that it moved up and down. Yet she wanted to scream. Her body was on fire.

The hand pulled away and she opened her eyes at the sound of the original officer's voice.

"Ok, nothing obvious." He said. "It looks like we'll need a cavity search."

"No. No." Helen breathed. She knew what it would mean - that they would put their fingers inside her. Maybe even more. She wanted it so badly, but only with her body. The thought of feeling any part of any man that wasn't her husband overflowed her lust with despair.

The officer leaned in close.

"Helen, if you don't let US do it, then you'll have to do it yourself.

Helen didn't respond. A few moments passed.

Another officer broke the silence. "Should I remove her panties, sir?"

"Yes."

Helen watched as the officer reached with a pair of scissors and clipped the white panties from her body. She now sat in the chair pussy-exposed.

"I'll do it." She said meekly. "I'll show you there's nothing in there."

Helen's body was still throbbing for attention, which she herself would now provide. She slid her left hand down and inserted a finger into her cunt. Her body had already provided ample wetness, and her finger slid up easily.

"There." she moaned as she said it.

The officer's said nothing. Helen took the silence to mean that they weren't convinced. She pulled her finger out, then pushed it back in. She looked at the officers standing over her, and repeated. She waited for an answer with her eyes, but not with her hand as she again repeated. The officers simply stared at her cunt.

She repeated.

And repeated.

Helen's legs started to quiver as her finger began to push inside her with more force and more speed. Her thoughts went numb. She was acting and moving by physical instinct alone. She looked at the men, and felt energy flow from their attentive faces into her arms. Her body was screaming with lust. Her consciousness didn't want to accept the thoughts that were trying to enter as she watched the men watching her fuck herself. Her hand blazed with speed. Her lips opened and the moans flowed freely.

"God, what is happening?" she wondered. She closed her eyes, hoping that would break whatever spell she was under, but, her hands continued her self-gratification. She could see all the officers again in the darkness of her mind, but now they were different. They were masturbating. She could see them sitting in a circle around her, their cocks firmly in their hands as they focused on her pussy and her finger fucking it. The image was so clear, so real. She looked at her own mentally-created body and saw her free hand squeezing her breast. She felt her lungs crying out, groaning with the pleasure that shot through her entire body. She could see the original officer directly in front of her, rubbing his cock ferociously. He began telling her how hot she was. How beautiful. How much he wanted to fuck her.

Helen looked at the blurred tip of his penis. Her eyes were still shut, but the images in her mind grew even more distinct. She could see his penis as though the image was enlarged, as if she were directly in front of it. She could taste its scent on her lips. She could feel it wedge between her breasts and hotness of it against her skin. The sights in her mind changed without the restrictions of reality. She could see all the men now. All of them were masturbating to her. All of them were getting off as she herself got off. She looked at her pussy, and now saw not her own fingers, but each of the policemen's cocks penetrating her. fucking her. And all at once they pulled out of her. And all at once the cocks trembled, then shot semen in long flowing spurts. And all at once it splashed onto her breasts and drops bounced upwards and landed on her lips.

Helen opened her eyes and realized she now had three fingers in her cunt. The officers were still in the circle, still staring at her, and still fully dressed.

Helen jumped up and ran out of the room. She didn't care if they were going to follow. She didn't care if they were going to arrest her. She ran out of the building and down the street, only slightly aware of the silence behind her.

"Well? What did you think of that?"

"You bastards." Mark was barely able to whisper to curse. It wasn't so much what she had done that distressed him, it was that they had made her do what she had done. And easily. Helen performed exactly as they said she would, and that scared Mark. If she would masturbate for a group of men, what was to say she wouldn't have intercourse with a group of men.

"How did it feel to watch your blushing bride gratify herself for them?"

Mark didn't answer.

"It was her fantasy, you know. We did not make her do anything that wasn't in her soul to do."

"You won't win. You won't win you fucking bastards!"

The man laughed. "Ah, my friend, it is quite clear that we will. Even know her body is alive with the lust and desire it has never allowed itself to know. Do you have any idea how powerful that lust is? It's more powerful than love, even your love. It was the love you two share that prevented her from doing what she really wanted at the police station. You see, she didn't want to masturbate for the men, she wanted to fuck them. That was the lust. The love counteracted it, but just barely. She is weakening, and soon she will be ours. We will have your wife, and very soon. Look:."

Mark watched on-screen as Helen walked down another deserted street. Wait, not deserted. Three men came into view, but they were behind a building. Helen couldn't see them.

"Shall we move on?. Would you care to guess what the next one is?"

Mark could see what was going to happen. Three men. Strangers. The look in their eyes said it all.

The men were going to rape her.

Mark covered his yes. No. No, this couldn't be a fantasy of hers! To be gang- raped? No! He wouldn't accept it. He couldn't believe his sweet, beautiful, loving wife had a deep fantasy to be ravaged by a passing gang of thugs. They had made a mistake, it was that simple.

"Watch, Mr. So-so." Mark felt the electric current pulse through him, and opened his eyes. She would fight, he assured himself. She would get away. And if not. there ploy would still be broken. She would turn down their offer and return home with him.

Surely.

Helen was finally convinced the officers were not going to pursue her. They evidently had had their fun. But her problems still remained. Where was she? What was wrong with mark? How was she going to get home?

On top of it all, her body's arousal had not dissipated. The erotic wash of sensation that had grown inside of her at the station was still present. It was an aching want. They must have drugged her, she reasoned.. That drink was some sort of aphrodisiac, maybe even Viagra. She wondered if she could control herself when she got back to Mark. For all she knew, she would jump him before they even discussed what had happened to them.

Helen hadn't really thought about the streets since she left that station. On some level she had remembered they were deserted and felt almost comfortable walking down the street. But this street wasn't deserted.

Helen heard about two steps behind her, but didn't have the time to run around. A hand had closed over her mouth, preventing the reflex of a scream. She felt the weight of a man pus her towards the side of the building, then throw her to the grass. She fell face- first, but broke her fall with her hands. She turned to face her assailant. She aw three.

"God, look at you." One of the men said with a huge grin. He was referring to her bare left breast. It had fallen out in the fall. The man moved towards her, and Helen tried to back away. She felt a rush of adrenaline pump through her/ These men were going to rape her.

The first man jumped on her. Immediately she felt her exposed nipple in the palm of his hand. Helen tried to push him off, but not as strongly as she could have. In fact, she was surprised by her response. She wasn't screaming. She was barely fighting.

The man's hands were moving all over her body with an uncontrolled excitement. He was humping her even though his pants were still on. Finally he pulled back enough to undo them. The other men moved in, pinning her arms to the ground.

Helen could have tried kicking, but her body was strangely unresponsive.. In fact, she wasn't scared. The twinging between her legs perhaps provided an explanation why.

Still, she thought of Mark. She pictured his face at the moment he learned his wife had been raped by three men. God, he would b devastated. And angry. He would never forgive himself for letting something like that happen.

She couldn't let something like this happen.

"Noooo!" Helen screamed at the top of her lungs. "Nooo! Stop, please stop!" Of course, the men didn't stop. Helen felt a cool rush of air as they ripped down her panties. Her pussy became half-exposed as the panties topped midway down her legs. She forced her legs together , preventing further panty slippage.

Her attacker didn't seem to mind. When his eyes caught sight of the strip pubic hair, they opened wide and his face descended on her crotch.

She felt his tongue on her cunt. An almost overwhelming surge of ecstasy shot through her. God, it felt good! She bucked her hops, not to throw him but to encourage the sexual act. The move was unintentional, and managed to throw him anyway. The man regrouped, wedging his hand between her legs just above the panties and sliding it upward. The motion was slow -- and maddening. His fingers were like an intensity adjuster, turning up the arousal in her body the higher they moved. Helen screamed as loud as she could, trying to vent some of her excitement as well as cry for help. Then his fingers reached her pussy.

Helen gasped and knew the sound this time was completely sexual. Again, her body wanted to fuck but her mind said no. Her mind seemed to have little choice this time.

But before the man could move any further, Helen heard a thud. Another man had jumped in! This was a new man, not one of the three attackers. Oddly, he was dressed only in a gold g-string. The outfit showed quite clearly a well sculpted body that oozed strength. He easily handled the three men. A few punches, a couple kicks and they fled. The man had saved her.

Helen looked at him, noticing how tightly the fabric was pressed against his ass. Then he turned. Helen felt the wetness surge between her legs. He was gorgeous.

"Are you ok?" he asked. He leaned down to help. Helen noticed his eyes dart from hers down to her exposed breast and then to her pussy. She liked it.

"I'm fine." She said. "Thank you, you got here before anything happened."

The man was staring at her pussy as if he didn't realize how attractive the women he rescued was. Or, as if he wanted her for himself.

"Here, let me give you chance to straighten up." He said as he turned away.

Helen slipped her breast back into her bra and pulled up her panties. They were soaked.

"Ok." She said.

The man turned back to her. "Where are your clothes?"

"Actually, I don't have any. You're never going to believe what's happened to me."

"Don't tell me you woke up this morning dressed just like that in a room you didn't know."

"Yes! Yes! Exactly! How did you know?"

"Because the same thing happened to me."

The man explained. He was up on a business trip. He had spent much of the night drinking with coworkers. When he woke up, his clothes were gone except for the gold g- string he was wearing. He didn't know where he was, how he got there, or what was going on. He had gone out trying to find some answers when her heard Helen scream.

The man helped Helen up, and they started to walk. Helen told her story, about the police and her attempted rape. She didn't tell him about her body's unexplained arousal, however. That didn't seem necessary, especially as she watched the large bulge in his g-string shift with his steps. It was growing bigger. The answer to why was evident in the long stares he continued to take of her body.

Mark had thought that his captors plans had gone awry when the stranger jumped in to save his wife from rape. But a quick glance to the men around him showed him they were too confident, too smug in their reactions to what happened. They knew it was going to happen. And Mark realized rather quickly that a man appearing out of nowhere in a gold thong was probably planted by these men.

Still, he wasn't quite sure what the fantasy was. At first, it looked as though they were trying to setup a rape. But Mark knew how terrified Helen was of being raped. Being as beautiful as she was, she had some past experiences with men who were a little too aggressive when she wasn't interested. She trembled at the thought of being out alone at night or having to walk through a desolate parking garage or whatever. He truly didn't believe it was a deep fantasy of hers to be ravaged and violated.

So who was this man? His words from the beginning were deceptive. The same thing had happened to him? Not likely.

Mark watched as the man continued to explain the events of his last few days. How he awoke alone with no clothes. How he kept encountering beautiful women in situations laden with sexual tension. But no sex had occurred.

There was something about the way he was speaking. He was very calm, very soothing. He accentuated the words he used when speaking of beauty and sex.

He was attempting to seduce Helen. It was quite obvious now.

"Well, Mark? Do you know what she wants? What her fantasy is?"

Mark stared at the screen. "To be rescued from a rape."

"And?"

Mark lowered his head. With her fear, her situation, and the calm, protective charms of this man, he knew this fantasy was a strong one for her to resist.

"To fuck the man who rescued her."

"Very good Mark! She became quite aroused when she told us this one. How she wanted to come to the brink of being taken. To have that fear and dread overcome her, and then, at the last moment she would be saved. It would be a kind man. A strong man. A handsome man, much more handsome than you. He would be shy, but she would wouldn't be. It is her fantasy to repay him the best way she knows how."

As Helen and the stranger walked, she began to see other men. They were eyeing her uncomfortably. In her entire time here, she had barely seen a soul. But now there were groups of men on every corner. They stared at her. Helen could see their intentions, she could see that every single one of them wanted to rape her.

She moved closer to the kind stranger.

The man shot sinister looks to the other men. Now that she had protection, she backed away.

The stranger turned to Helen. "I had hoped to get you back to your hotel, but, I don't think we're gonna make it." His eyes glanced at a group of men. "Maybe if you had some clothes. but your obviously dressed for maximum enticement, and I don't know if I can fend off all these men if they make a move."

Helen nodded. She wondered if he was and enticed as the other men, and if so, why wasn't he trying to make a move?

The two of them turned off the street and walked past a building. There was a hill ahead of them, but a path made it look like fairly easy going. They climbed up the hill, past a row of trees. Helen looked behind her a number of times, looking for the preying men. She realized she was putting a lot of trust in this stranger. If he wanted to have his way with her, it was doubtful she would be helped again.

The reached the top of the hill, and Helen saw a familiar building. It was the gift shop! The little store where she and Mark had had been shortly before all this weirdness had occurred. And of course, it was the same with the secret sex room.

"Come on, I was in the shop earlier and no one was there. I think it will be ok to hide out in there for awhile."

Helen wasn't totally comfortable with going back into the shop, but even if someone was there, it was probably the old man and woman. Or possibly some customers! In any case, this was the first place from her normal world she had seen. She was willing to give it a try.

As the stranger had indicated, the shop was devoid of other people. Helen and the man entered through a side door, and walked into the unlit shop. There was enough sunlight to see by, but overall the room was dark.

Helen realized that the side door they had entered took them right into the sex portion of the shop. She was about to voice her concern when the stranger spoke first.

"There! Over there!" he walked to the far corner of the room, towards a dress on a hanger. Helen hadn't noticed it when she had been in the shop earlier. "You can out this on," the man said, "and hopefully not drive the men so crazy."

Helen walked up to the dress. It was gold. It was extremely low-cut. And the hem line looked like it would barely come past her pussy. The whole outfit looked extremely delicate. The two straps look quite thin, and surely would all off and take the whole dress with it with the slightest brush of a hand. Still, it was more clothing than what she had on.

The stranger looked into a corner while Helen removed her bra and slipped the dress on. She would have preferred to keep the bra, but it would have been too visible with the little area the dress covered. But once she got the dress on, she realized she might have to put on the bra and just let it show through. The dress was extremely suggestive, perhaps more so than the bra and panty set.

The stranger turned around and looked at her. His eyes noticed how the fabric of the dress barely covered her nipples. He also noticed how loose and jiggly her breasts were in the thin fabric.

"Um, this may not work."

"What do you mean?"

"It's too sexy, I mean the men are bound to think it's very sexy. Id anything, I think you'll just drive men even more crazy." Then he looked away. "It's impossible to see you in that and not want you."

Helen noticed a large bulge in his g-string. It had pulled the gold fabric far enough from his body that she could see a hint of scrotum. She felt a rush of arousal sweep over her.

She was going to keep the dress.

The man noticed her staring at his bulging cock and turned away.

"I'm sorry." He cupped his hand over his penis. "I don't mean to be rude. It's just.., it's just that, I mean that dress." he sighed.

Helen moved over to him and put her hand on his back.

"They drugged me, you know." The stranger said. "they drugged me to make me hard so I'd fuck their women. But I didn't, you know. I didn't."

"I see." Helen felt disappointment. She had thought his hardness was simply because of her. She scolded herself for the thought.

"I don't know why they want me. Why they are doing what they are to me. I resisted on principal, even though some of the things I've seen are right out of a late- night fantasy." He turned and looked at Helen. "I thought I was strong, I thought I could get away. And then I saw you."

Helen looked at him with a questioning look.

"I saw you and those men trying to rape you, and."

"And?"

"I wanted to join them." He looked right into her eyes. "I wanted to rape you."

Helen felt flush. His words. her body. she was going numb on the outside, while inside her body was a storm of sensation.

"But then all I could see was your fear. All I could hear was your screaming. And I knew I couldn't hurt you."

Helen felt shortness in her breath and twinging in her nipples..

"I meant to help you." the man continued. "I meant to protect you."

"And you did! And you have! You saved me from those men that tried to rape me. And I know you kept the others from even trying. And now you've brought me here where I can be safe."

He nodded, then shook his head. "You don't understand. Ye, I brought you here because I've already been here, and, " he looked again into her eyes, "I've already seen that dress."

The meaning of his words hit her.

"It's such a coincidence. I have a fetish for that kind of dress, right down to the gold color. To have one here, and then to see you. I have a fetish for women like you. Blonde, gorgeous, and. big-breasted."

Helen looked at her breasts. They looked immense in the skimpy dress. Her nipples were on the verge of displaying themselves.

"Are you going to rape me?" Helen asked.

He looked away. "I think you have about ten seconds to get out of here. It is taking every ounce of self-control not to attack you. Please go, before I hurt you."

Helen didn't say anything.

"One."

"I don't want to go! I need you!"

"Two."

"If I go out there, those men will rape me. I can't get back to my husband without you!"

"Three." He was breathing heavy, but still looking away.

"Please, please don't make me go! Please don't make me go."

The man counted four, shortly followed by five and all the way up until eight.

"No!" Helen screamed. She reached for the mans face, trying to turn it to her.

The action had an unexpected result. Just as she came face to face with him, her left breast fell out of the dress. They both knew it. They both saw it in their peripheral vision. A moment passed, and the man was no longer able to resists looking down.

Helens soft pink nipple poke outward, harder than he expected. The breast was round, firm, and hanging loosely from the bit of support the dress offered from underneath.

He didn't say "10." He lunged at her.

His lips met hers, and Helen stumbled back.

Helen wanted to fight off the stranger, at least her heart did. She wanted this gorgeous naked man to climb off of her and disappear. She was sure of it! But, she had this unexplained need and want to fuck. The urge was welling in her pussy with a force of lust she had never before experienced. But she wanted Mark to satisfy that lust.

But, oh, this man was making his case. Helen froze has his fingertips grazed up her stomach and onto her bare chest. Involuntarily she lurched at the touch. She opened her eyes a moment, and saw that the intensity of the man's lust equaled hers. She remembered how she loved to be wanted. That seeing a man desperate to have her was, in itself , a mighty aphrodisiac for her own libido. And how this man wanted her. She expected him at any minute to strip her of her clothing and ravage her. But he didn't even expose her breasts. His fingertips were tantalizingly close - she felt them brush against her nipples through the dress.

She lurched again, staring at those fingertips playing her sensitive points. She saw a significant potion of areola expose itself and she closed her eyes. Her head swam with anticipation. Surely now his lips would descend and fight to free her nipple; to suckle at it with driven passion. But the kiss never came. Just those fingertips!

Helen began to realize that in addition to be maddening they were completely demanding. They were activating her drive for sex with each effortless flick, but also telling her she had the responsibility of the invitation. She had to invite this man into her body.

Helen faintly clung to the hope that her closed eyes would give her the concentration she would need to fend of the seducer. She knew now that if she saw his naked form, his erect penis awaiting her slightest instruction, that she would spread her legs and break her marriage vows.

She clung to the image of her husband. She loved him. Surely she loved him enough to remain faithful at least through the honeymoon! She couldn't understand why she was so overcome with desire. She simply couldn't explain why she had so much want and lust flowing through her body. She fought in her mind to control her feelings, reaching a point where she was almost sure she had.

Then she felt the tip of that long, rock-hard penis against her pussy.

There was the fabric of her panties in the way, but it did little to interrupt the sensation of heat and smoothness.

Helen opened her eyes.

The man was propped above her on the strength of his arms. His biceps rippled, his chest flexed. She looked down his perfect body as she reached down to her hips. His cock was magnificent. It surged with power and masculinity. It was the perfect symbol of manhood. And it was about to be inside her. Without though, Helen had succumbed. She was going to fuck his man. She pulled at her panties, and the man had his cue. He slid back in order to assist her. He pulled on the panties gently, slowly revealing her perfect cunt adorned by perfect hairs.

Helen stretched pout her arms, offering her embrace. Her right hand knocked something over, and Helen glanced quickly at what she had overturned.

It was one of the dildos. One of those nicely crafted representations of a man's sex that came from the old mans hands. Her eyes locked on it as she righted it back up. The stranger had worked Helen's panties off her legs. He moved his body into position, his cock seemingly screaming at him to begin fucking. He savored the moment. Helen's hand clenched around the dildo. It was slightly cold. But of course, it wasn't real. It wasn't Mark. Helen brought the dildo to her pussy in a quick motion. A flash of rational thought and zipped across her mind. A way out.

Helen plunged the dildo into her pussy. Her left hand joined her right, causing the stranger to move to the side. He sat back smiling as Helen began masturbating. The fake cock felt incredible. Helen felt wave of pleasure shoot through her as the dildo penetrated her cunt. She thrust it harder and faster. She didn't stop even has her breasts popped free of the dress. The jiggled free for a moment before the man descended on them. His hands groped and squeezed her nipples, then his mouth suckled on her left nipple. Still, she concentrated on the dildo she was ramming inside her. Her nipples were on fire however. She added fuel to the lust between her legs and begged her to allow the real man's cock.

The stranger moved his hand to hers, moving with it as she fucked herself. Slowly, as she pulled the dildo out, he tried to impede her thrusting. He flicked his tongue on her nipple, and felt her body quiver with lust. But his cock was yet to penetrate her. She resisted his attempts to break her hold on the dildo. She knew she would cum. She would most certainly have an orgasm. And that was the plan. Fuck the plastic, not the man.

The man didn't give up immediately. He managed to break the dildo from her wet pussy several times, only to have her cover herself before he could bring is own cock to entry. After the few attempts, however, he stopped trying to take over. She wondered about his giving up as continued to pound away at herself. He could have easily taken the dildo, thrown it away, and humped her. Maybe he thought it would be rape, but Helen knew it would be anything but if she felt that immense hot cock inside her for even a single thrust. As long as she kept that out of herself, she believed she wouldn't be cheating.

The man did take control, of the dildo again, but didn't move it. Helen's hands let go and she opened her eyes. The man was fucking her, but not with his own cock. She humped the dildo, and he obediently held it in place. He began thrusting it to match her own thrusts, and Helen moaned with delight. Her hands were free to squeeze and quell the burning in her nipples, and she did so as she watched her body fuck the fake cock in his hands.

Within a minute, an orgasmic tidal wave washed over her. She screamed a deep, overwhelming groan as she came.

"It was with fierce pride that Mark looked up at his captors.

"Nice try." He said smugly at the astonished men. "But she doesn't want your fantasy, she doesn't want the savior from a raping. She wants the man she loves. She wants me!"

The men were huddled, whispering amongst themselves. One of them shouted. An older man walked in, Mark recognized him as the old man from the gift shop. He looked livid, but then quickly composed himself. He whispered something to the men, who then scattered in several directions. Of them tripped, and fell on the control panel they were using to monitor Helen's progress. Mark felt his restraints loosen. He was free! But could he get away.

"Quickly now, go!" the older man yelled. The man fled the room, apparently on some important mission. The old man walked up to Mark. He prayed he couldn't notice the releases bands on his arms and legs.

"You're wife is very loyal." He said. "She must love you a great deal. No woman has ever withstood our little hero. But she will fold, I assure you. And when she does, it will be me who cocks her first. I will be the one to welcome your wife to our community. She is very lovely, and I want her. I want her more than any woman we have assimilated before. And I will have her."

The man exited the room, leaving Mark alone. His heart leapt as he sprung out of the chair. He made his way to the one of the doors a derby man had gone through, looked carefully, then opened it. The bright glare of sunshine hit his eyes. Mark took a step outside, hoping he wouldn't hear shouts identifying his escape. He heard none.

Mark ran into a grove of trees. He was free, and he had but one purpose.

To find Helen and leave this God-forsaken town.

END OF PART II

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