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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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The Ravished Wife 
By Junebug (address withheld)

***

Most stories I've read in the archive have the rapist 
taking his victim, and afterwards she becomes a sex-
crazed whore as a result. Her husband, if she has one, 
usually enjoys his wife's new activities and encourages 
them. My wife was brutally raped, right in front of me, 
and that certainly didn't happen to us. (MF, nc, rp, 
wife, intr, cuck, preg)

***

Author's Note: It makes me sick to my stomach when I 
read the stories in this archive, so I wrote one 
myself.

***

Ellen was a good woman, and an excellent wife. I 
considered myself lucky to have found her. She was just 
twenty-two when we met at our church group. She was the 
cutest little thing I'd ever seen, just 5'3" tall, 
about 100 pounds, with long, bright red hair, green 
eyes, and creamy skin. 

Unlike many redheads, she didn't have a single freckle 
on her. She was the sweetest woman I had ever met too, 
kind, always concerned about others, and a very good 
Christian, like myself. She came from a good family, as 
did I. We were married a year to the day after we met, 
and were very happy together - until it happened.

It was just after our first anniversary. I'd had to be 
in Europe on business for over three weeks, and 
couldn't be there on the actual date of our 
anniversary. Ellen understood, but I'd felt bad, so to 
make it up to her, I'd arranged for a great anniversary 
present - a weekend in Miami. 

She would fly down there on Thursday from our suburban 
Connecticut home, I would fly there straight from 
London and she would pick me up at the airport. I was 
feeling great as I stepped off the plane; I'd managed 
to grab a couple hours sleep and was looking forward to 
a night of romance with my lovely wife. After all, I 
hadn't seen her in almost a month!

Ellen looked beautiful - she was wearing a white slip-
dress that showed off her petite figure to perfection. 
She kissed me longingly, and smiled up at me. "Oh Ted, 
I'm so glad you're back!" she said sweetly. 

"I'm glad to be back, darling," I said, holding her 
close. "I've got a surprise for you," and then I handed 
her my anniversary gift. 

She opened it right there in the airport lounge, and 
squealed with delight as she beheld the diamond tennis 
bracelet I'd gotten her. "Oh Ted, it's gorgeous!" she 
said in delight. "But you'll have to wait until we get 
back to the hotel for your present," she finished with 
a wink. 

"Well, let's get going then!" I told her, and we 
hurried off. We got into the taxi Ellen had waiting, 
and headed to the hotel. Ellen babbled over and over 
again about the bracelet, holding it up to admire it, 
and telling me all about the beautiful honeymoon suite 
she'd booked. I noticed the cab driver - a rather large 
black man, who'd introduced himself as "Justus" - 
looking at her in the rear-view mirror, but I didn't 
think too much about it. Lots of men stared at my 
beautiful wife, I always enjoy their envy. 

We got to the hotel, and checked in. Ellen was right, 
the suite was gorgeous. We quickly unpacked, and then I 
told her I was going to take a shower. She gave me a 
look full of promise, and said she'd order us some 
champagne. While I was shaving in the shower, I heard a 
knock at the door. There was the champagne! I finished 
up, dried off in a hurry, threw on the robe the hotel 
provided, and went out into the bedroom. I couldn't 
believe my eyes.

Ellen was standing in the middle of the room, and 
standing next to her, a gun in his hand, was our cab 
driver. He was a very large man black man, around six 
foot four, I'd say, and he looked like he weighed 
around three hundred pounds. He wore stained chinos, 
and a white shirt, open almost to the waist. His huge 
stomach slopped over his belt, and he smelled strongly 
of sweat and hair tonic.

"Sidown," he demanded, gesturing towards the armchair 
which was pulled right up by the bed. I did what I was 
told, I knew I couldn't take him in a fight. He quickly 
tied me up, and slapped a strip of duct tape over my 
mouth. 

I looked on helplessly at Ellen as he told her to take 
off her bracelet and give it to him. She did, and he 
threw it onto the bedside table, where my wallet and 
Ellen's purse were. "That's all we have," Ellen 
pleaded. "Please don't hurt us - we understand that 
society made you the way you are! Just don't hurt us, 
we'll pray for you!" 

The huge black man began to laugh, his stomach jiggling 
as he did. "Yeah, das right Ho. You pray fo' Justus. I 
won hurt you. I gonna make you scream fo' gawd, as wha 
I'm gonna do!" he said, and then he threw her down on 
the bed.

Ellen started to scream, but the black man was on top 
of her too quickly. I struggled against my bonds, 
helplessly.

Her attacker slapped one huge black hand over her 
mouth, and with the other, ripped her stylish dress 
clean off her. She wasn't wearing a bra, just pink lace 
panties - my favorites. He tore them off too and 
stuffed them in her mouth. Then he used what was left 
of her dress to tie her arms to the bedposts and then 
took off his own shirt.

The black man must have been in his late twenties and 
in his prime. Through the fog of fear and anger I had 
to admit that he was really well built. He had an 
athlete's wide shoulders and a chest with huge pecs, 
that tapered down to maybe a 30" waist. He looked like 
a black Hercules.

"Hmmm, gots a purtty body fer a white Ho," he drooled, 
raking his eyes lustfully over her my wife's naked 
body. Then, to my horror he climbed onto the bed 
hovering over Ellen threateningly and began to kiss her 
all over, her face and her body. 

Again I struggled in vain to free myself as he began 
sucking on Ellen's nipples, pawing her breasts. He 
fondled her for a good five minutes, while I sat there 
helplessly watching. Then, he sat up and to my utter 
horror, I saw the enormous bulge in his chinos. He 
looked over at me, grinned, and then began to unfasten 
his pants. 

He wasn't wearing any underwear, so his monster of a 
prick popped right out, fat, swollen, and rigid. Ellen 
stared at it and I could hear her muffled moans as she 
realized that this huge black man was going to rape 
her. The black man looked over at me and grinned again, 
showing the gaps where some of his teeth were missing. 
"You got a purtty woman man," he drawled, and flicked 
on of her nipples.

"Fine white Ho. I been wantin me some white pussy fo' a 
while now. Dis here bitch wuz showin' off her lil' 
white body da whole ride from da aihpoht and I knows 
she wuz just achin' to get a real man tween her legs. 
Right, bitch?" he said to Ellen, who just whipped her 
head back and forth, in a silent no!

He laughed again and with one massive knee he pried her 
thighs apart and snuggled between them. "I gonna fuck 
you now Ho, you gonna have ole Justus deep down in you. 
Gonna gives you a taste of some fine black cock, just 
what every white Ho needs. Yo' man, you beddah be 
watchin' you might learn somptin. If I turn my head and 
see you got you're eyes closed, I'll shoot you ass. Got 
dat!" he warned me.

I nodded, what else could I do? I couldn't let him me, 
or Ellen! We had to find away through this.

"Get ready, bitch," he said, leering. "I gonna give you 
a good fuckn'!" and with that he mounted my sweet wife 
and thrust into her in one violent move. I can still 
hear Ellen's muffled screams of pain and terror as the 
massive black man plowed right into her. I could only 
sit there in horror and self-loathing while my wife's 
beautiful slender body was bounced up and down against 
the mattress by the force of the black man's thrusts 
and listen while the animal groaned and growled with 
pleasure as he raped my wife.

"Oh, gods, das good. Nice an tight, da way I likes it. 
Oh yeah, Ho, you sho' gettin fucked good! Nice white 
pussy, taint nothin' like it," he moaned as his hips 
jerked his black snake into Ellen's helpless pussy.

I had to sit there and watch as this huge black buck 
raped my beloved wife. Sit there and watch the sweat 
bead up on his massive black back and arms. Sit there 
and listen to the sounds of sex and the muffled screams 
and moans of my wife as the beast forced himself into 
her.

Every now and again, the bastard would turn his head to 
see if I was still watching. I'll never forget how his 
face looked, slick with sweat, eyes glazed with lust 
and a look of intense pleasure on his face as he raped 
my wife.

"Oh yeah! Das it bitch, Justus' be fuckin' you... ain' 
never had it so good, huh? You be Justus' Ho now! Yeah, 
you be mine. Fuck, nice hot pussy you got, ohhh 
yeahhh... oh yeah... here it comes bitch!" 

With a feral grunt and a final massive thrust that 
drove Ellen's head into the headboard, the black 
bastard's hips jerked and he groaned as he climaxed in 
my wife's unprotected body. 

After what seemed like forever, his body began to 
intense and he fell on top of Ellen, sweaty and 
twitching, gasping for breath.

I sat there with tears of frustration and anger in my 
eyes. Poor Ellen, a woman who had done only good in her 
life, to had been viciously raped by a huge black man, 
while her husband had been made to watch.

Eventually the asshole got off of her and zipped up his 
pants, put his shirt on, collected our money and the 
bracelet, and left.

***

We weren't found till the next morning, when the maid 
came. Ellen was taken to the hospital, and we filed a 
police report. I assured my lovely wife that I still 
loved her, and it wasn't her fault, but the trauma she 
had suffered was too much for her to believe that right 
away. 

The day before we left to go back to Connecticut, the 
police arrested Justus, and Ellen and I both identified 
him. The trial wouldn't be for months, so we went home 
as scheduled, and tried to pick up our lives. The rape 
was still with us though. Ellen had been badly bruised 
in the brutal attack, so sex was out for a while - even 
if she had wanted to make love, she couldn't. We both 
got into counseling right away, and I was convinced 
that we could put this behind us and go on.

But it wasn't to be. 

Four weeks after the rape we learned that Ellen was 
pregnant. We knew there was no way it could be mine. We 
hadn't made love in seven weeks, not since the night 
before I'd left for Europe. Ellen was pregnant with 
Justus' baby. Because of our religious beliefs, 
abortion was out of the question. It was hard, but we 
decided that she would carry her rapist's baby to term, 
and then give it up for adoption.

We tried to look at the bright side. It would be 
conclusive proof that she had been raped, and Justus 
would go to prison where he belonged.

***

The next few months were terribly difficult for me. It 
was hard for me to watch as my wife's lovely body 
became bloated, her belly swelling hugely with her 
rapist's baby. Every time I looked at her bulging tummy 
I was reminded of the night the huge black rapist had 
impregnated her, reminded that she was pregnant with 
another man's child, against her will. It also hurt 
because we had planned to start our own family this 
year. Now, instead of joyfully expecting our first 
baby, Ellen was being forced to carry her rapist's 
baby.

It was also difficult to explain to our families and 
friends that we wouldn't be keeping this baby, and why. 
I may have been overly sensitive, but I thought I could 
see the contempt on my friends faces as they looked at 
my wife. I wasn't a real man. A real man would have 
stopped the rapist, instead of sitting back and 
watching while he raped and impregnated her. 

I may have been imagining it, I don't know. Our 
marriage was naturally suffering. We hadn't had sex 
since the rape. Ellen was too beat up at first, and 
then the shame of carrying another man's child did its 
work. But we struggled on. Surely, after the trial, 
after the baby was born and given up, we could get back 
to normal.

The trial was held when Ellen was seven months 
pregnant. We flew down to Miami, and testified. Once 
our testimony had been given, we were allowed to sit in 
the courtroom, and watch. There was plenty of 
scientific evidence. They had Justus' fingerprints from 
all over the hotel room, the semen sample they'd taken 
from Ellen at the hospital - all of it pointed towards 
Justus. 

He sat there, unconcerned, wearing a cheap blue suit 
that was too small for him, reeking of aftershave, 
twiddling his thumbs. The only time I saw him looking 
any way but bored was when the testimony about the baby 
was given. When he heard the state's witness say that 
the DNA results from the amniocentesis test Ellen had 
taken proved conclusively that Justus was the father of 
her baby, he turned around, stared at her swollen 
belly, and leered at her. 

I was disgusted, but sure that justice would prevail. I 
couldn't read the jury though - they were all black, 
mostly older women, nice, grandmotherly types. They sat 
there, expressions never changing.

The jury was out for just an hour. As we filed back in 
the courtroom to hear the guilty verdict, Ellen 
whispered to me, "They must really hate him if they 
found him guilty so quickly!" 

I smiled at her. It still hurt to look at her, pregnant 
with a black rapist's baby. She was very big by then, 
her swollen stomach jutting out from her maternity top, 
her lovely face awash with that glow pregnant women 
have - all from a terrible night of rape. I held her 
hand, while the jury came in, and we waited expectantly 
to see Justus get what he deserved.

I'll never forget how I felt when I heard the forewoman 
declare that Justus wasn't guilty. Sick, horrified. 
This animal had raped my wife and made her pregnant 
with his child. And now he was going to walk free. 
Because he was a "nice, black boy," as some of the 
jurors claimed, who had obviously been tempted by a 
white Jezebel!

We went back to our hotel room and sat in stunned 
silence the whole night. We were in too much shock to 
even cry. Our lives had been ruined, and now the 
bastard who had done this to us was a free man. But 
things got worse the next day. Ellen was served with 
papers. Justus wanted to exercise his parental rights 
to their child. 

We tried to fight it. The adoption agency told us we 
couldn't do anything until Justus signed away his 
paternal rights to his child, which he refused to do. 
Justus got a court order forcing Ellen to stay in 
Florida until she gave birth to his child. Some black 
rights organization was funding his legal fight for 
him, making sure that "a black child would know his 
father." 

I had no rights. 

Normally the mother's husband is automatically the 
legal father of her child. But I had signed away my 
rights in preparation for the adoption, just before the 
trial, leaving Ellen open to further violation by 
Justus.

We had to move to Florida temporarily, me taking a 
leave of absence from my job to be with her - no way I 
was going to leave her alone in the same state as that 
monster - and we tried to get Justus' parental rights 
revoked. We weren't successful. 

The judge ruled that Justus was the legal father of 
Ellen's baby, and as such he had every right to 
exercise his parental rights. He further ruled that 
Ellen, by then eight months pregnant, not only would 
have to stay in Florida till their child was born, but 
would now have to live there permanently so Justus 
could see his child every weekend.

Adding insult to injury, the judge also ruled that 
Justus be allowed to go to Ellen's doctor's 
appointments with her and that the baby must have it's 
father's last name, Jenkins. We filed an immediate 
appeal, but the original orders would stand while the 
appeal was being considered.

***

The day after, Ellen was scheduled to go to her doctor. 
I went with her, and Justus met us there. He grinned 
evilly when he saw us, and immediately reached out to 
pat Ellen's protruding belly. "Well Ho, I gotta say, I 
wuz just hopin' to git me sum cash and a fine piece a 
ass. Diddin figger on getting me a fine baby son in da 
bargain." 

Ellen cringed, and held my arm tightly, silently 
warning me not to make things worse by getting into a 
confrontation with him. "We don't know what sex the 
child is yet," she told him icily. 

He paid her no attention. "Oh, I knows it's be a boy. I 
gots me six more and day all been boys. Dis one'll be 
da same. Yep, gonna have me nodder fine black boy. Ole 
Justus, when he do a thing, he do it right. I nebber 
shoot no blanks. You wuz a fine piece o' ass. Fittin 
thing I got you wid' mah baby." 

I hated him even more, as he laughed, his fat, ugly 
black face leering at my wife's swollen belly. "Yep, a 
fine thing. I wuz hopin dat I done laid a lil' black 
baby in dat belly of yo's, and I did."

Somehow we managed to get through the next few weeks. 
We hoped and hoped that the appeal would go through, 
and we could end this nightmare. It didn't happen. The 
day after our final appeal was denied, Ellen went into 
labor, and nine months to the day she was raped, she 
gave birth to Justus' son. Justus was there with her as 
she delivered. I wasn't allowed in - Justus saw to 
that. 

He certainly was a proud papa, as he staggered through 
the halls, stinking drunk, boasting about his son who 
was "big as his daddy, an' black as de night." He 
didn't even care that Ellen had begun to hemorrhage as 
a result of delivering his big black son, and had to 
have an emergency hysterectomy. Now we would never have 
a child together.

She kept the baby. The alternative would have been 
letting his father have full custody of him. I think 
Ellen also got attached to her child, even though she'd 
been forced to give birth to him. After all, she knew 
now that this was the only child she would ever have. 

Two days after her son was born, Ellen sat me down for 
a talk. It was a terrible thing, she said, that she'd 
been impregnated by a rapist. But it had happened, and 
now she had a son with this man, and it was obviously 
the Lord's will. She was just as much his mother, as 
Justus was his father, and responsible for her baby. 
Justus had his six other sons, and could never afford 
to care for the baby properly, even if he'd been stable 
enough. But he was a drunk and drug addict, mostly out 
of work cabbie and she had to make sure her son was 
cared for.

Ellen had decided to keep the baby, rather than 
surrender him to his father. She said she hoped I'd 
understand. 

What could I do? I'd loved her, and had agreed to be 
with her for better and worse. This was obviously the 
worse. I had no love for her and Justus' son, but I 
wasn't a monster. I couldn't let this innocent baby be 
raised by the man who had sired him through rape. And I 
couldn't insist that she give away her only child. 

I told Ellen that I would support her decision. She 
wept, and thanked me, and then hit me with an even 
bigger bombshell. Justus wanted his son to be named 
after him. He was willing to go to court to make it 
happen, and he had all the backing he needed from that 
black organization that insured he got rights to the 
baby he'd raped into my wife. So she had agreed, rather 
than waste more time in court. The birth certificate 
had been filled out just before I came in, and the baby 
was officially Justus Jenkins Jr.

This was two years ago. Ellen and I are still married, 
though things aren't going well. She's too wrapped up 
in being a mother to Justus Junior to pay much 
attention to me. We make love, but very infrequently, 
and it's not the same as it was before. It's hard, 
being the stepfather of a black child. 

We thought about telling the boy we'd adopted him, so 
we wouldn't have to explain to him, and everyone else 
that he was the product of Ellen and the black man who 
had raped her. I even offered to adopt him myself, 
saving Justus Sr. child support (which he pays just 
enough of, just often enough to retain the right to see 
their son every weekend). 

Of course he said no, telling us that he was the father 
and that he wasn't going to give his parental rights up 
to some wimpy white men. As a result everyone, from our 
neighbors to my coworkers knew that Ellen has a son by 
a black man and that I'm just his stepfather. 

I'm still not close to Justus Junior and I know that 
grieves Ellen. She just adores her son, who looks 
exactly like his father, big and very black. Justus 
comes by every few weeks to spend time with his son, 
who calls him "daddy." I'm just "Ted." 

Ellen encourages that bastard Justus Sr. to come by 
during the week as well, which he often does. She 
thinks that he has every right to know their son, and 
that their son needs to be with his father. We've even 
got a picture of Justus Sr. in the living room holding 
his son.

I don't know where our marriage will go from here. I 
want to make it work, but it's hard. Maybe if we could 
have children together things would be better, but 
Justus has taken care of that, Ellen's hemorrhage 
during the birth has may further children an 
impossibility. All I can do is stand on the sidelines 
watching Justus as he leers at my wife and plays daddy 
to their son.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 49