My Girlfriend Became My Wife to Bully Me and Fucks Many Men in Front of Me

I never thought my life would turn into this kind of nightmare. My name’s Jake. I was 18, a senior at Lincoln High in a quiet suburban town in America. Everything started because of one stupid afternoon.

Sarah was my girlfriend—blonde, always smiling, classic cheerleader vibe, same age as me. Her mom, Lisa Thompson, was something else. Thirty-eight, divorced, body that made my head spin every time I saw her in those tight yoga pants and tank tops. I told myself it was just looking, nothing serious.

One day Sarah had cheer practice. I went over to their house to “wait for her.” Lisa was home alone. We were in the kitchen talking, drinking soda. My eyes kept drifting. She noticed.

“Jake, quit staring,” she said, arms crossed, voice sharp.

I didn’t stop. I stepped in close, put my hands on her waist. She pushed back hard.

“What the hell are you doing? Get off me!”

She slapped at my hands, tried to twist away. I was stronger. I pinned her against the counter, pulled her pants down even though she was fighting, kicking, yelling “No, Jake! Stop! This is rape!”

She wasn’t ready, wasn’t wet, just scared. I forced myself inside anyway, raw, no condom. She clawed my arms, begged me to stop, sobbed the whole time. I kept going, harder, telling her she liked it even though she clearly didn’t. Her big breasts bounced under her top. I finished deep inside her. Felt like power. Felt wrong. Didn’t care right then.

That’s when the front door flew open. Sarah walked in early.

“Oh my God… Mom? Jake?!”

She saw everything—me still inside her crying mother. Sarah’s face crumpled. Tears came instantly.

“You’re a fucking monster! A rapist! We’re done! Get out of my house right now!”

She shoved me toward the door. I stumbled outside, pants half up, humiliated. She slammed it behind me. Blocked me on everything that same night. Rage took over fast.

How dare she dump me like that? Over one mistake? It was her mom’s fault for being so damn hot.

I rounded up my boys—Mike, Tyler, Chris—all football guys like me. In the locker room I told them everything.

“That bitch Sarah ruined my life. We’re kidnapping her after school. I’ll handle the mom alone. You hold Sarah. We record it all. Blackmail the mom into being my personal slut whenever I want.”

They looked at each other, then grinned.

“Revenge, bro. We’re in.”

Plan was simple. Friday after last bell. Lure Sarah to Tyler’s van behind the school. Take her to the abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. I’d go solo to the house.

We pulled it off clean. Sarah was walking home. Mike grabbed her from behind, pressed a rag with stolen sleep drops over her face. She kicked, screamed “Let go! Jake, you piece of shit, I’ll kill you!” We tied her wrists, blindfolded her, threw her in the back. Drove to the warehouse. I left them there and headed straight to the house.

Lisa opened the door. Her eyes went wide with terror.

“You? Get the fuck away from here!”

She tried to slam the door. I forced it open, stepped inside, locked it.

“Your daughter’s with my friends right now,” I said, showing the text they sent—proof. “You do exactly what I say or they hurt her. Bad.”

Lisa started shaking.

“Please… don’t touch her. What do you want?”

I shoved her onto the couch, ripped her clothes off. She fought like hell again—punching, scratching, screaming “No! Not again! Stop it!” I pinned her arms, hit record on my phone.

I fucked her hard. Pussy first, then turned her over for her ass. Called her every name I could think of. She cried the whole time, body shaking, but after a while her cries mixed with moans she couldn’t control. She came against her will. I didn’t stop. Multiple rounds—made her suck me, bent her over again, finished on her face. Recorded every second.

“Now you’re mine forever,” I told her. “Or everyone sees what happens to Sarah too.”

Back at the warehouse my friends had already stripped Sarah’s cheer uniform off. She woke up naked on the dirty mattress, crying.

“What do you want? Please let me go!”

They held her down. Mike went first, forced her legs apart.

“This is for Jake,” he said, pushing inside. She screamed, twisted, begged them to stop. Tyler shoved himself in her mouth. Chris joined, taking turns. They went round after round—five, six times maybe. Her body was covered in sweat and cum. Her begging slowly turned into broken gasps.

But Sarah didn’t break.

When they finally untied her, thinking she was done, she changed.

She laughed. Cold. Mean.

“You idiots really thought you owned me?”

She grabbed Tyler’s dick, climbed on top, rode him reverse like she was in charge.

“Cum inside me, slave. Beg for it.”

Tyler groaned, eyes glazing over. “Yes… mistress…”

Then Mike. She sat on his face, ground down until she squirted.

“Lick it all up, pet.”

He did. Eager.

Chris actually begged when she pulled out the strap-on we’d stupidly brought for extra humiliation. She fucked him with it while he moaned “Harder, please!”

She owned them. Used her body, her voice, promises of more, threats of exposure.