Depraved Secret

Depraved Secrets

The room was quite spartan – white, painted walls dotted here and there with a few old picture frames, a frosted glass window and, strangely, what appeared to be some sort of clear polythene sheeting, covering an old worn carpet. Lastly, 2 worn looking armchairs were just visible to the right and left of the scene that was revealing itself to my puzzled gaze.
‘What is this?’ I thought to myself. I didn’t recognise the room. It certainly wasn’t a video I could recall taking!
The disc had been in a blank box; on it, just a date in black permanent marker, ’12.03.02’. I’d found it earlier, hidden amongst some old clothes of Ellen’s at the back of a drawer in the unit in our spare bedroom, whilst preparing to redecorate. It would still be there, if I hadn’t been forced to empty said drawer in order to make that particular item of furniture easier, because lighter, to move. The redecoration was going to be a surprise for Ellen, my wife of 10 years, when she returned from the week’s break with her friend Stacey, who lived in Edinburgh. I had been promising to do it for ages, and now, to show just how much I appreciated her and missed her when she was away; I had determined to do it. However, upon discovering the aforementioned D.V.D. and with curiosity, aroused, I resolved to pause for just a few minutes to see what exactly was on it.
The scene remained undisturbed for about half a minute and I was just about to ‘fast forward’, when a tall, muscular man, holding a can of beer, stepped into the shot, wearing just a pair of somewhat stained underpants. He was heavily tattooed, with a huge satanic like figure covering his exposed back. As he moved, his feet stuck to the sheeting causing it to lift slightly with every step.
He was closely followed by a second man, this one older and slightly shorter but vastly overweight and hirsute. He too was clad in only underpants and his belly flopped obscenely over the waistband. His legs were thick, like tree trunks and as he moved to sit on the left hand armchair, he turned to reveal a ruddy cheeked, unshaven and particularly oily skinned face. His hair too, what little there was of it, was lank and greasy.
The first man then followed suit and sat in the other chair, revealing more of himself to the camera. Short cropped hair topped his chiselled face, which had a long scar running from just below his left eye down to his upper lip. As he settled into his chair, his left hand disappeared into his pants and he began to squeeze and stroke his already hardening cock.
‘What the fuck is this?’ I said to myself, whereupon, quite inexplicably, my mind returned to that date written on the case.
We had been married for just over a year then, and, as I remember, Ellen had been a little depressed, putting a temporary stop to what had been, up to then, a healthy sex life. Then too, she had spent a few days away with Stacey and on her return, after a week, she was back to her normal self…..
My reverie was interrupted by a gruff Scottish voice emanating from the screen saying,’ How old is she?’
It was the younger man from the video and as he finished speaking, he burped loudly and took another swig of beer.
‘Early thirties,’ was the response,’ It’s her first time though, so we probably can’t go too far today.’
‘Pity-but I s’pose we don’t wantae put her off. Slightly older than usual too, what’s the story, Chas?’ replied the first man.
‘No script – play it by ear!’ was the response.
‘Oh, I like that I’m really in the mood today. Wouldnae care if I didn’t get paid. Maybe see just how far we can take her. What d’ya say?’
‘Aye maybe, but the finish is in her hands….Ah here she is, Alex my man,’ and both men then turned towards the camera as a female figure appeared centre screen, with her back to the camera.
Chas, aggressively, was first to speak, ’Get over here, between our chairs and face the window. Don’t you dare look at us. Keep your fuckin’ head down!’
Her response was immediate and as she moved, both men began to squeeze their cocks through the fabric of their pants. When she reached the spot identified by the older man, her full figure could be seen. She was wearing a black dress cut just above the knee with a low cut back. Black stockings covered her shapely legs. Clearly they were stockings because the outline of the belt could be seen. Her hair was blonde and it must have been just over shoulder length, though it was hard to be certain as it was tied up neatly, revealing the sexiest of slender necks. On her feet was a pair of stiletto heeled shoes. This woman, whoever she was, was dressed for an elegant evening out, not a night in this rather seedy room.
‘Don’t you fuckin’ move a muscle or speak a fuckin’ word unless we tell you – got that?’ This time it was Alex.
‘Yes, Sir!’ was the obedient and somehow familiar sounding response. It was Ellen’s voice surely? My heart leapt into my throat!
‘Bend over at the waist and spread your legs. Keep your arms out in front of you!’ was the next order and once again the woman complied immediately.
‘But that couldn’t be Ellen,’ I thought seeking to compose myself, ‘she has much darker hair.’ My mind was a whirl of confusion and I decided to rewind back to the first appearance of the woman and study her more closely.
It seemed impossible, yet though the hips were more slender, the legs, waist and ass could certainly be hers.