My wife, Mickey, and I are pretty much a typical American couple. We met in college; we got married just after graduation; we settled into the life in suburbia as young, upwardly mobile professionals. After three years we started having children and Mickey became a stay-at-home mom. Adam, Jr., Susan, Harry, and Dottie, precipitated an up-scale move to a larger home, but my career was progressing nicely, although the increased mortgage payments of our new home were a bit burdensome. It meant we would have to go a little light on some things like new cars, and international vacations, but we were staying solvent, even if things were occasionally tight around the end of the month.

Then, Mickey found an online advertisement:

Special Promotion

All-Expense Paid Vacation for Qualifying Couples.

Visit Our Special Island at Our Expense

Enjoy the Vacation Of a Lifetime

For more information, call 1-800-888-9999

When I came home that night, Mickey was very excited. She had called the phone number, and they told her that the promotion was geared to create word-of-mouth advertising, and the application forms would be sent to her by mail with postage-paid return envelopes.

The large envelope containing the application package came in a few days. The questions were pretty much plain vanilla in most respects. They wanted an annual income range, address, phone numbers, our dates and places of birth, occupations, and ages of our children. The only intrusive requirement was for photographs of both of us in swimsuits with front and back views. I play racquetball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and play golf on Saturdays, so I consider myself a fairly attractive five-foot-ten guy, not exactly a heart throb, but still not ground beef, if you get my drift. Mickey works out at a gym, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so there are no extra babysitting fees. If a set of our parents, both sets live within an hour of us, are available for babysitting we may both work out at Mickey's gym.

For the pictures, Mickey wore a white bikini, which lightly sets off her slightly olive skin, a product of her Mediterranean heritage. The bikini nicely displays her 36D-23-34 figure, showing a lot of cleavage in the front view, an ass to die for in the rear view, and well-toned legs in both views. My pictures lacked the distinctiveness of Mickey's, but I have a nice butt, and a six-pack, well, actually more of a four-pack, but still my stomach muscles showed up nicely.

Included in our application package was a brochure, showing a golf course, swimming pools, restaurants, beaches, and luxurious rooms. There was one niggling doubt in my mind, which was that the pictures seemed to show a clientele mostly made up of middle-aged, undistinguished males and young, nubile, stacked females. My doubts were inconsequential compared to Mickey's enthusiasm for a Caribbean vacation which we would otherwise be unable to afford for several years.

Mickey received an acceptance phone call. She called me at work to get a two-week, three-weekend vacation slot, and when I came home from work, she told me that our plane tickets were in the mail. Her parents had agreed to babysit the first week, and mine, the second week. Even better, her parents would drop us off at the airport, and my parents would pick us up on our return. After connecting in Miami, we arrived at the St. Kitts International Airport. As directed in our acceptance packet, we took a shuttle to the specified civil aviation terminal. We waited in the terminal for a few minutes, and then a young man helped us load our luggage into a minivan, which he then drove us to a small plane, after explaining that we would have to give him our cell phones, as we couldn't have them on the plane. There were two other couples in the passenger compartment of the plane and shortly after our loading was complete, the plane took off.

A thirty-minute flight and we were landing on the only runway in the middle of a cluster of small and smaller islands. There were three golf carts waiting for us. Our driver told us that we would be meeting Mr. Wilson for our initial orientation. We arrived at a small barracks like building. He told us that our bags would be waiting for us in our room.

Two large men greeted us and showed us into Mr. Wilson's office. He was a gray-haired, middle-aged man. The two large men joined us for our initial interview.

Mr. Wilson introduced himself and told us to call him Jeff. Jeff then explained how things would go on our vacation, "Sometimes we find out that things are a little different than expected. In those circumstances you just have to go with the flow. From here on out, you will be receiving instructions. You will be expected to follow those instructions immediately. Mickey, your first instruction is for you to take all of your clothes off and give them to your husband. Why would you do that? I assure you that if you don't comply, you will receive no physical punishment; however, your husband, Adam, is it, will."

The two large goons lifted me up by my arms. Then one grasped both arms and the other one punched me very hard in the solar plexus.

He continued, "Do you understand how it works, Mickey? I will repeat the order. If you don't immediately comply, your husband may need some bridge work. Unfortunately, we don't have a dentist available. Do you understand, Mickey?"

She nodded her head in acquiescence.

He directed her, "Take all of your clothes off now!"

Mickey began unzipping her summertime smock. The goon holding me released me, and I fell into the chair. My stomach was still hurting from the other goon's punch. I watched Mickey's smock drop to the floor. She stepped out of it, picked it up, and handed it to me. I folded it and put it in my lap. I did not like this situation one bit, but I couldn't, try as I might, think of a way out. We didn't even know where the island was. She removed her slip and handed that to me. Again, I folded it and added it to her dress. Next, she removed her bra and handed it to me. Her eyes said, "Sorry." Finally, she took her panties off and handed them to me.

Jeff directed us to follow him. Mickey followed after him, clad only in her low-heel sandals. Next came goon one, followed by me and goon two. The next room had benches along both sides. Goon two guided me to a seat on one of the benches. Jeff, Mickey, and goon one proceeded into the next room, which I saw had a bed in the middle of the room. Goon one closed the door.

I could hear muffled voices in the next room. Then nothing for a while, then I heard Mickey groaning, "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

I started to get up, but goon two grabbed my arm, and shook his head. I knew what the consequences of any futile attempts to rescue Mickey would be. Her groans continued until I did make out her cry of "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

More muffled voices, then more of Mickey's groans, then she cried out, "Oh, God! I'm cumming!"

There were three very similar iterations of this process. Then goon one opened the door, and entered the room and spoke to goon two, "Okay, Albert, it's your turn!" He smirked at me and said, "That's one really fine piece of ass."

I caught a glimpse of Mickey sitting on the bed, before the door closed behind Albert. Another couple of hours passed with the sequence of muffled voices, Mickey's groans of increasing arousal, and then her cries of ecstasy as she climaxed, repeating itself over and over. Occasionally, goon one and Albert would change places. I no longer wanted to see what was going on in the next room.

Then there was about ten minutes of muffled voices only and then the door opened. Jeff came out first, "Andrew will take you to dinner and then to your room. Mickey will be entertaining until two or three then she will come to your room. You will stay in your room until she returns. You can watch movies on the television. One of the channels will be your wife entertaining if you'd like to see her perform. Do you understand?" Three guys followed Jeff out of the room followed by Mickey. Mickey was dressed in a square-cut dress that barely covered her nipples on the top end and her camel's toe on the bottom. I don't think the dress top to bottom covered as much as two feet of her body. She was crying as she looked at me and said, "Sorry, Adam!" The guy following her, slapped my face, and told Mickey, "No crying!" She followed the other guys out, wiping at her face, followed by the guy who slapped me and one more.

Andrew stood up and said, "Let's go!" I meekly followed him to one of the restaurants. Small consolation, but the food was excellent. Afterward, I followed him to our designated room. He explained, "There is closed circuit television everywhere. You are to stay in this room until further notice. Your wife will be finished around two or three, and then she will come here. Do you understand?" I meekly nodded my head and sat on the bed.

How had the vacation of vacations become the nightmare of nightmares? I couldn't think of where we had gone wrong, nor could I see any possibility of escape. It seemed that my only purpose was to provide a means of disciplining Mickey without bruising her. It was crystal clear what her purpose was; I'm sure that everyone but me knew the details of her entertaining duties. I turned the television on, wondering if I should look for her channel or not.

There was a minibar in the room with snacks and non-alcoholic and alcoholic beverages. This was going to be a long night, so I mixed myself a highball. I looked at the convenient channel menu and found twenty 'working girl' channels. I checked out each one out sequentially. Channel nine was I believed one of the wives from the plane with us. Channel eleven was the other wife. Channel twelve was my darling Mickey.

There were three guys with her. One had a flaccid cock, so I assumed he had already sampled her wares. One of the other guys was asking her if she had lubricant because they were getting ready to 'double fuck' her.

She said, "Sure, it's in my handbag."

The guy took a small handbag from the nightstand, "Look what else I found." He displayed a pair of handcuffs, and then ordered, "Behind your back, Missy!"

Dutifully, she held her arms behind her back, while he cuffed her. Then he took a bottle of lubricant from her handbag and liberally applied it to her ass both externally, and internally. Mickey started moaning, "Oh, that's good!" She squirmed. I don't know what I thought I was going to find on her CCTV channel, but to find her apparently having the time of her life was unexpected. The other guy who was hard lay down beside her, and with the help of the lubricant guy, she managed to impale herself on his waiting cock. "Oh, that's good," she cried out, as she slid down his rod.

The other guy climbed on the bed behind her and began sliding his manhood into her poop chute. She cried out, "Ohmigod! That's even better! Pound me good, guys!" She seemed to be totally into it.

As the guy on top pounded her rectum, she cried out, "Oh, Daddy! Momma loves this! Give it to me, good, guys! Momma must have died and gone to heaven! Harder guys! You guys are driving Momma crazy! Oh, God, this is great!"

I turned the TV off. I couldn't watch any more. I could have watched it and jacked off, since it was pretty hot stuff, but I thought when she finally gets in, I'm going to need to perform reclaiming sex. It would likely be challenging to reclaim her, from what she was obviously enjoying the hell out of. Oh, God! How did this happen to us! I wished she didn't seem to be getting so much pleasure from her assignments. I would probably look at her channel again around two to see how she was holding up. I hoped she wouldn't be quite so joyful when I checked back in.

I continued drinking highballs and started watching the few news channels. I must have passed out about ten. When I came to, it was after two. I checked 'working girl' channel twelve. Now she was doing black dudes who seemed to all have huge cocks. She was apparently doing her own version of a train. First, she would kiss the guy's cock. Then she would stick it in her love canal. Then she would wrap her arms and legs around the guys and lip lock the guy with an exchange of tongues and saliva. I could only watch a few minutes of this, as she periodically cried out her erotic joy at getting the shit fucked out of her.

I turned the TV off and thought about the woman I had seen performing like a total slut. I guess this was whorehood, not sluthood, but who's counting now. I couldn't believe this was the happy, loving wife I had left our home with less than twenty-four hours ago. She would probably be here in less than an hour. I knew I had to be reassuring and comforting, not critical, if we were to have any chance of coming out of this with our marriage intact. On the other hand, there was the question of whether I wanted to reclaim her. Did I want to be on the same flight with her returning to our home. Even that was an open question. Would these assholes let us go back? Maybe they'd let me go back early, but that didn't make sense. I would have to report what had happened to the authorities as soon as I had a chance. Letting them take our phones was another mistake.

It was a little after three-thirty when I heard the doorknob turn. I heard her voice cheerfully say, "Thanks, Albert, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

She greeted me with, "Hi, Babes. I'm really wiped. Would you mind drawing me a hot bath?"

I replied, "Not at all, sweetheart. Do you want bubbles?"

She responded, "Adam, I'm really tired and sore. I want a bath and bed. We'll have a few hours tomorrow before I have to go to work. I'll try to make it up to you, then."

I put bubble bath in, and when the tub was about half full, I went in the room proper, and she was passed out on the bed. I roused her, "Hey, Mickey, your bath is ready." I helped her out of bed and grabbed her butt.

She pulled my hand away, "I'm sorry, baby, I'm really tired. I don't know how much you know about my day, but they worked me over pretty good."

Then I noticed several hundred- and fifty-dollar bills on the beds. "What's that, Mickey?", indicating the money on the bed.

She explained, "That's my tips. They let me keep those. I kept putting them in my carry without counting.

I counted as she watched, "Nine-hundred-fifty dollars!" I informed her.

She said, "At least, it's something! This has been the hardest day of my life!"

I admitted, "I watched a little of your channel, and I could tell that it wasn't easy." I helped her into the tube and started rubbing her shoulders.

She told me, "Um-m-h. That really feels good. Honey, what channel?"

I explained, "There was a channel on the television, devoted to your exploits. It was called, 'working girl channel twelve."

She explained, "Ohmigod! I never dreamed. Did it show everything?"

I answered, "I would say that nothing was left to the imagination."

She inquired, "Was it hard to watch?"

I responded, "A little. I just watched excerpts."

She said, "I guess you understand then when I tell you both my pussy and my asshole are sore."

I told her, "I'm surprised they're not raw."

She replied, "They kept me well lubricated both naturally and otherwise." I rubbed her back and then moved on to her front. I noticed her breasts were a little bruised and bitten.

I inquired, "I guess you're a little sore everywhere."

She told me, "Adam, you've been doing great! Could you work on my thighs a little?"

I massaged her thighs for a while, but I could tell she was drifting. I helped her out of the tub and thoroughly dried her off. She continued, "Adam, if we stick together, we might get out of this mess."

I agreed, "We have no choice. We have to work together."

She spoke the most heart-rending words I had ever heard, "Adam, thanks for not calling me a whore or a slut. I love you. You're the best man in the whole world."

I said, "I love you, too, Mickey!" even though I knew I didn't feel the same way about her that I had felt twenty-four hours earlier. If only she hadn't been enjoying her work quite so much.

It was about then that we crawled into bed, and she quickly went to sleep. I stayed awake a little longer, worrying about how we were going to get through this, and how much, this experience would change our lives and our relationship. I was assuming that we would at least be able to use the other half of our round-trip tickets. I finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I was awakened by her tightly squeezing my cock. She told me she wanted me inside her. I didn't ask which hole to use. My cock was hard almost immediately, and before she climbed on top of me, she kissed me. I was amazed. She had shown more enthusiasm and more verbalization on the working girl channel than I had ever witnessed before. This morning, as she rode me doggy style, she seemed to be almost as enthusiastic and verbal as she been the night before. When she came, she leaned over and kissed me and told me, "I love you, Adam. Please don't forget that."

She resumed pounding me and soon she was coming again. Again, she kissed me and told me that she loved me. She crawled off of me and assumed the doggy style position. It seemed that her pussy was hotter and wetter than I remembered it being anytime before. Our morning fucking was the best we had ever had. I took her to climax and then pulled her up into the kneeling prison guard position. On her second orgasm I filled her hot, wet pussy with my jism. We held each other and kissed like it was our honeymoon. She told me we would go to the beach after breakfast for a few hours before she had to go to work. I put on a swimsuit and tee shirt to go to the restaurant. She just put on a robe and loosely tied it. I didn't say anything although I suspected one or both her boobs would be peeking out of the robe. I guess our ten AM feeding was more of a brunch than breakfast. Both of us had huge appetites. We went back to the room to change. I took off my tee shirt and shoes, and she took off her robe and shoes.

"Ready?" She asked.

I inquired, "Don't you want to put on a bikini?"

"No," she said, casually, "I don't want to get any tan lines. All the beaches here are clothing optional."

I replied, "I didn't know that."

As we walked to the beach, her magnificent breasts, and her lovely butt were totally available to the viewing public. I could see that she was getting a lot of looks. At the beach an attendant gave us a blanket and suntan lotion, and asked if we would want a umbrella.

Mickey quickly replied, "No, the lotion and blanket will be enough for us."

I couldn't see too much of her wonderful body. It seemed that most of the male beachgoers had the same opinion although none went any farther than looking.

After a couple of hours of sunbathing and idle chit-chat, Mickey informed me that she was horny and wanted a tune-up before she went to work in an hour-and-a-half or so. We returned to the room, and the sex was just as good as if not better than in the morning. After watching her sun and feeling her body as I applied lotion, I was very horny too. I noticed then that her square-cut sun dress had been replaced by a fresh dress, cut in the same style, but a different color, and less wrinkled than the dress it replaced. It was very obvious that she was wearing neither bra nor panties.

At 3:30, a different attendant knocked on the door. He greeted her, "Hi, Mickey! Ready to go?"