Jason Bonds: Chained trained wife

She only hoped he didn't lose the house in Tahoe before his luck turned. She had never quite gotten over having to give up the beautiful villa they'd had in Monte Carlo when she first married him but she could hardly complain. He had lost the villa the same way he got it gambling. Easy come, easy go.

After Victoria had taken Andrew to the airport, she returned to their palatial home on the outskirts of town. She was always lonely when he was gone, rattling around that big house all by herself. She sorely missed the friends and the busy social life she had established in Monte Carlo. She didn't like Americans very much, and had yet to feel comfortable in Las Vegas.

The day passed uneventfully.

Victoria hibernated inside the huge house, enjoying the air conditioning while the desert out side sweltered. She despised the desert in summer and never went outside, except early in the morning or after sundown. She complained constantly that Las Vegas was unfit for human habitation. But that was where the big casinos were, and so that was where they lived for now, anyway.

That day, the lonely housewife managed to entertain herself watching the afternoon soaps on television, working on the rug she was weaving, and then watching the evening news. After having dinner alone in the kitchen she never liked to dine alone in the huge and elegant dining room Victoria got into her conservatively cut one-piece swimsuit and ventured out into the lingering heat for a dip in the pool. The sun had set, and the temperature was tolerable, even though the concrete around the pool was still nearly hot enough to blister her feet.

She ran across the pool deck, her green swimsuit glinting in ghostly light from the pool, and splashed into the refreshing water.

As she floated lazily on her back, she noticed a few of the brighter stars already twinkling in the sky, which was quickly going from gray to black. The stars were like old friends to Victoria, because they were the same stars she had known so well as a girl in Ireland. The familiar patterns of the stars in the night sky always reminded her of home, of a time when life was simple and predictable.

Kicking gently to propel herself through the caressing water, Victoria focused her gaze on the brightest star in the sky.

"Star light, star bright… first star I've seen tonight… I wish I may, I wish…" Her breath suddenly caught in her throat when she saw a head pop up over the back wall. Some young man was watching her and watching with a brazen lack of concern over the fact that she obviously saw him.

Then, before she could react, two more guys' head came into view. The three guys were evidently standing on the big trash container out in the alley, and they were looking her over with alarming boldness.

Victoria suddenly felt violated, and she started swimming for the edge of the pool nearest the house.

"All right, guys!" one of them said approvingly. "We're in luck! She's a real looker!"

Another one of them gave a lewd wolf-whistle, and all of them started laughing as the frightened young woman scrambled out of the water and started backing toward the patio door.

"Get out of here!" she shouted angrily. She clutched her arms to her tits protectively, even though her swimsuit more than amply covered her charms. "This is private property!"

The first guy she had seen, who had a red bandanna tied around his curly brown hair, climbed up atop the wall and stood there arrogantly.

"Come on, lady," he said. "What kind of hospitality is this? Ain't you gonna invite us in for the party?"

"There's no party here." Victoria said, still edging backward nervously. "You must have the wrong place."

"Nope," he said confidently. "We got the right place."

She stared at the muscle-bound young punk in disbelief. He was wearing tight faded jeans and a midriff T-shirt that lewdly exposed his belly. He was probably in his mid-twenties. And he was rather handsome, except that he had dark-brown eyes that looked sinister to her.

"Well, Vicky?" he said, hooking a thumb in his front pocket. "You ready to party?"

Victoria felt goose bumps rising on her satiny flesh when the brash stranger called her by name. She had never seen him before in her life. The other two guys mounted the wall, then all three of them jumped nimbly down into the yard and began advancing around the pool, coming toward her.

"Oh, dear God!" she gasped when she got a good look at all of them. "No!"

Those other two were carrying things that made Victoria's blood run cold metal things that glittered in the shimmering light from the still-undulating water in the pool.

Chains were draped over their shoulders, heavy chains of the type bikers might use. Handcuffs dangling from the belt loops on their jeans swung as they walked, and one of them wore a holster containing a big knife. Both of them were carrying ropes and other items she couldn't quite make out.

It was all happening so fast, Victoria couldn't be certain what she was seeing except that it looked like something out of a nightmare.

They were approaching the terrified woman rapidly now. She kept her eyes on them, searching frantically behind her back for the patio door handle. They reminded her of horrid New York street gangs she had seen in films only this was all too real!

"Go away!" Victoria yelped pitifully, gripping the door handle and already knowing it was too late.

Before she could get inside the house, the big guy with the bandanna grabbed her wrist, yanking her violently away from the door.

During the fleeting moment when that big hand first grasped her frail wrist, Victoria froze with fear. She just stared open-mouthed at the three guys, unable to believe they had come right into her back yard and accosted her this way.

The muscle-bound guy with the midriff T-shirt and the red bandanna seemed to be the leader. The youngest one, a blond teenager in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, had the outward appearance of a decent collegiate type. But the other one, a big mean-looking Mexican with piercing blue eyes, gave Victoria the creeps. Clad in jeans and a dirty-looking white tank top, he was a powerful, savage-looking man with very dark skin. His coal-black eyes seemed to flash with malevolence.

"Let's chain the bitch up and fuck her!" the big Latino said eagerly, speaking in a booming baritone voice. "Get her swimsuit off!"

"Just a fuckin' minute, Raul," the guy with the bandanna said, holding tightly to both of Victoria's wrists. He drew her close to his face. "You want to fuck us nice, lady? Or you wanna make it bad for yourself? Either way, don't make no difference to us."

The foul aromas of beer and tobacco wafted into her face from his mouth as he spoke, causing her to wrinkle her nose.

"Get your hands off me, you scumbag!" she blurted. "I'd die before I'd let trash like you touch me… that way."

"Don't let her talk to you like that, Chuck," the blond guy said, seemingly excited by her little bit of resistance. "Slap the shit out of her!"

There was a loud clattering noise as Raul dropped the heavy chains he'd been carrying. He abruptly grabbed the back of her swimsuit and yanked, ripping the zipper open clear down to her ass.

"Get the bitch naked and let's fuck her!" he demanded.

Victoria gasped with embarrassment as Chuck held her hands firmly while the Mexican literally tore her swimsuit from her body, leaving her standing stark naked before them.

"Yeah!" the blond exclaimed, grabbing one of her bare tits and squeezing it. "You're real pretty, lady… real pretty!"

In the next instant, Victoria felt the Mexican's hands on her naked ass. He was squeezing her fleshy ass cheeks and probing into the crevice of her ass with one finger, causing her to lurch forward when he jabbed a finger up her tight asshole.