He opened an eye, but his whole world was still one of the darkness. He felt something around his face, like a mask. He made her become cold with fear while she began to regain consciousness. Ronnie tried to move, but he couldn’t.

He felt the rope wrapped around and around his body, ensuring it strictly to a tight couch. His wrists were tightly tied together and then pulled behind his head where they were fixed on the back of the sofa.

Ronnie realized he was completely naked. The legs were designed under the sofa and were closely tied together with the ankles, the sofa that forces the legs apart. For a short time she was terrified of the realization her sex was opened and completely exposed. He made it scream, but the ball-gag in his mouth made any sound practically impossible.

Then he realized something else. Her vagina was full of something hard. Looks like a big dick was sitting in there, filling it. Ronnie gained consciousness quite quickly and, as she did, the sound of soft humming suddenly made her entrance into her world. As he did so, the dildo in his vulva began to caress his rhythm. The dildo was attached to a device that was mounted at the end of the sofa, a device that pushed the dildo about four inches in and out of its vulva at the rate of about two blows per second.

The dildo was wide in width, little more than one inch and a half, and was stretching Ronnie’s sex with every push, bringing in its sense a strange mixture of pain and excitement.

Then, while his consciousness was restored, the dildo took over his body and began to almost silently groan towards an orgasm. He knew it was just the beginning of what was promised to her - and he was not impatient of what else was in store for her. She could cope with the dildo for now, but she knew it would soon be painful as she continued her incessant cock action inside her vulva. Her sex was becoming more sensitive and tenderer with every blow and, even as her second orgasm built to her inevitable climax, Ronnie began to feel the pain that this huge device was causing her.

While the third orgasm mixed with the pain of the intrusive tool, Ronnie remembered why he was here and knew he had no choice. She should have just endured everything she would have asked for.

The letter sat on the dining room table, and below was the envelope in which it was placed. Published, not delivered by hand. Published. The letter was addressed to Craig Carter and, as usual, had arrived in place that morning, while his wife, Ronnie, was still dressing upstairs.

Normally the radio would be in the kitchen as Craig prepared their breakfast, but the kettle had long boiled and turned off and, after opening the post, Craig was sitting waiting.

“Breakfast ready, honey?” The female voice called downstairs. Silence, not the usual answer. Then came the footprints as Ronnie descended from the staircase.

“What’s going on?” He asked, raising his head around the door of the dining room and noting that the table was naked.

“This is,” Craig shone at her as he held the unique sheet of paper for her.

Ronnie took the paper and looked at it, becoming pale as she did.

Fuck you! He said. “What bastard will send something like that? "

“The bastard you fucked, maybe?” Craig said the words.

“But I didn’t, it’s just you,” Ronnie protested.

“Really.” Craig took the letter and read it out loud. “Dear Craig, I thought you wanted to know that your wife is really good in bed. She is really one of the best oral donors I know and love tattoo within her left leg - how funny to have a four-leaf clover just under her shaved sex. I’m really jealous of having at your disposal one of the most important clitoris I’ve ever had the pleasure of caressing. Besides, I think your wife is a really good fuck. I just want to know how much I’ve enjoyed our time together over the last six weeks.” The letter was not signed. Ronnie had become pale. “So,” Craig said to her: “Tell me nothing’s happening.”