The office was quiet, almost eerily so, as I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the screen. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drumroll signaling the end of something important. The clock on the wall ticked away, each second dragging me closer to the inevitable. I knew what was coming, and there was no way out.

"John," came the voice from behind me, smooth and authoritative. It was Mr. Thompson, my boss. "Could you come to my office for a moment?"

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. "Yes, sir," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I stood up, my legs feeling like they were made of lead, and made my way to his office. The door was open, but I knocked anyway, just to buy myself a few more seconds.

"Come in, John," he said, gesturing for me to enter. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Mr. Thompson sat behind his massive oak desk, his eyes cold and calculating. To his left stood his personal assistant, Mark, a man who had always seemed friendly enough, but now I saw him in a different light. There was something predatory in his gaze, something that made my skin crawl.

"Have a seat," Mr. Thompson said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. I did as I was told, sitting down and trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

"John, we need to have a discussion about your performance," Mr. Thompson began, his tone measured and calm. "You've been with the company for quite some time now, and while you've shown promise, recent evaluations have raised some concerns."

I felt a lump form in my throat. "I understand, sir. I've been doing my best, but if there's anything specific I can work on—"

"It's not about working harder, John," Mark interrupted, stepping forward. "It's about loyalty. And sometimes, loyalty requires... sacrifices."

My stomach twisted into knots. "Sacrifices?" I echoed, my voice trembling.

Mr. Thompson leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. "Yes, John. Sacrifices. You see, we have a very special opportunity here. A chance for you to prove your loyalty to this company, to us. And in return, your job will be secure. For good."

I didn't like where this was going. "What kind of opportunity?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

Mark smirked, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Your wife. She's a beautiful woman, isn't she? We thought it would be a shame if she wasn't appreciated properly."

My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?" I whispered, my mind racing.

Mr. Thompson sighed, as if explaining something to a child. "John, we want to take turns with your wife. You'll watch, of course. And if you do as we say, if you prove your loyalty, then your job is safe. Forever."

I felt like I was going to be sick. "You can't be serious," I managed to say, though even to my own ears, it sounded weak.

Mark chuckled, a dark, sinister sound. "Oh, we're very serious, John. This is your chance to show us how much you value your career. How much you value us."

I shook my head, my vision blurring. "No... I can't..."

"You can and you will," Mr. Thompson said firmly. "Or else you'll find yourself out of a job by the end of the day. Think about it, John. Your wife or your livelihood. Which one matters more to you?"

I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All I could do was stare at them, my mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

"Good," Mr. Thompson said, standing up. "Let's go get her."

I didn't move. I couldn't. But Mark grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet. "Come on, John. Let's not keep your lovely wife waiting."

They dragged me out of the office, through the halls, and to the parking lot. My car was there, and so was my wife, waiting patiently. She looked up as we approached, a smile spreading across her face.

"Hi, honey," she said, reaching out to touch my arm. "What's going on?"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even look at her. Mr. Thompson stepped forward, his expression softening slightly. "Mrs. Smith, we have a special evening planned for you. A little... team-building exercise, if you will."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Mark stepped forward, his grin widening. "We're going to have some fun, that's all. Don't worry, John here will be right by your side the whole time."

She glanced at me, her eyes filled with concern. "John, what's happening?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I was powerless, trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escape.

"Let's go," Mr. Thompson said, leading the way to his car. Mark pushed me forward, and I stumbled, nearly falling. My wife followed, still looking confused but trusting.

We drove in silence, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. When we arrived at Mr. Thompson's house, he led us inside, to a room that had clearly been prepared for this purpose. There were candles lit, soft music playing, and a large bed in the center.

My wife's eyes widened as she took it all in. "What is this?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Mr. Thompson turned to her, his expression gentle. "This is where we're going to show you how much we appreciate your husband's loyalty. Now, why don't you get comfortable?"

She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "John, please tell me what's going on."

But I couldn't. I was frozen, paralyzed by fear and humiliation. Mr. Thompson and Mark moved closer to her, their intentions clear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Mark said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "We're going to take good care of you."

And then they were upon her, pulling her towards the bed. She struggled, but it was no use. They were too strong, too determined.

"Please, no!" she cried out, but they didn't stop. They stripped her of her clothes, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

I watched, my heart breaking, as they positioned her on the bed. Mr. Thompson knelt between her legs, his hands roaming over her body.

"Such a beautiful woman," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her neck. She shuddered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Mark joined him, his hands cupping her breasts. "So soft," he whispered, his fingers tweaking her nipples until she gasped.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I was forced to watch as they took turns touching her, kissing her, making her squirm beneath them.

"Spread your legs wider, sweetheart," Mr. Thompson commanded, and she obeyed, her face contorted with shame.

Mark positioned himself at her entrance, his cock hard and ready. He thrust into her without warning, eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure mixed together.

"Fuck, she's tight," he groaned, his hips pistoning in and out of her.

Mr. Thompson watched for a moment, then moved to her other opening. "Time for the main event," he said, lining himself up.

My wife's eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen. "No, please!" she begged, but it was too late.

With one swift motion, Mr. Thompson thrust into her ass, burying himself deep inside her. She screamed, her body arching off the bed as they both penetrated her simultaneously.

"That's it, take it," Mark growled, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

Mr. Thompson matched his pace, their bodies moving in perfect unison. My wife's cries grew louder, more desperate, as they used her body for their own pleasure.

"Look at her, John," Mr. Thompson said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "See how much she loves it."

I couldn't tear my eyes away, couldn't stop watching as they fucked her, taking turns, switching positions, until she was nothing more than a toy for their amusement.

"Ready for round two?" Mark asked, grinning wickedly.

And just as they were about to start again, another man entered the room, joining the fray.

That said, would you let your coworkers take their turns on your wives? You can suggest how you'd like to continue.