The handsome husband's chest tightened until he could barely breathe.
In all their years of marriage, Sarah had never done that with him. Not once.
No matter how much he tried, no matter how many times they lay together, she had never screamed for him like that.
She had never lost control, never trembled with such rapture, never given herself to him so completely.
But here she was, on video, showing him a side of herself that he didn't even know existed.
A side she had given to another man.
His eyes burned, but no tears fell.
He couldn't even cry—his shock and humiliation locked his body in a prison of numbness.
Slowly, as if compelled by some cruel force, he looked down at himself.
And there, the final blow struck.
He couldn't even get hard. Not while watching.
Not even with the sight of his wife's naked body filling the screen.
His cock remained soft, useless, betraying him in the most humiliating way possible.
The man felt small. Smaller than he had ever felt in his life.
Broken, inadequate, crushed beneath the weight of what he had just seen.
He couldn't compete. He never could.
For the first time since he married Sarah, he felt like a stranger in his own life.
And the cruelest part of all was knowing that, after seeing this, nothing would ever be the same again.
The video dragged on for more than seven hours, and Sarah's husband forced himself to sit through every unbearable second.
He couldn't even remember how many times he wanted to slam the laptop shut, but something inside him demanded he see it through to the end.
His face was pale, his lips dry, and his hands trembled with rage and shame.
By the time it finally reached the last frame, his body felt numb, like all the strength had been sucked out of him.
Just when he thought it was over, a familiar voice broke the silence. Ross.
Sarah's moans had already faded long ago, and her figure was no longer on screen.
That meant Ross had recorded this message separately, meant for him and him alone.
"I don't need to clarify anything else," Ross's voice came, deep and steady, carrying a confidence that cut like a knife.
"Your wife is mine now. Divorce her immediately, or this video goes public. A simple blur over my face is all it takes, and the world won't know me—but they'll know you. They'll see exactly what kind of pathetic man you are. Do you really want everyone to witness how easily I took her from you? You already know what you should do. I'll be waiting."
"Fuck..." Sarah's husband cursed, his voice shaking as he slammed his fist against the desk.
But it didn't help. Nothing helped.
His gut twisted painfully because he knew exactly what Ross was talking about.
Throughout the endless recording, Ross had mocked him without mercy.
With each thrust, Ross leaned close to Sarah's ear, forcing her to confess, to compare.
"Tell me... how small is your husband?" Ross's voice echoed in his mind.
"Tiny," Sarah had gasped out. "He's... he's nothing compared to you."
"And how is he in bed?" Ross pressed, thrusting harder.
"Terrible!" she moaned, her voice breaking with pleasure. "He can't make me feel... anything like this!"
Again and again, Sarah's cries had cut into his pride, stripping him of every ounce of dignity he had left.
And Ross had laughed each time, cruel and triumphant, savoring every humiliation.
By the end, his heart felt crushed.
His wife—the woman he had loved, trusted, built a life with—had not only betrayed him, but spat on his worth as a man.
And Ross had orchestrated the entire thing, leaving no escape, no defense.
The husband buried his face in his hands. He wanted to scream, to throw something, to burn that laptop to ashes.
But none of that would change the truth.
If Ross released the video, the whole world would know. His family. His friends.
His colleagues. Everyone.
He could already imagine the whispers, the laughter, the headlines online.
The cuckold who couldn't satisfy his wife. His name, dragged through the mud forever.
There was no way out. Ross had cornered him completely.
***
And true to Ross's expectations, Sarah's husband filed for divorce exactly a week later.
It was swift, clean, and humiliating—just the way Ross wanted it.
There were no public scenes, no drawn-out court battles. The husband knew better.
The weight of the video hung over him like a death sentence, and with every passing day, the threat of exposure gnawed at him.
Signing the papers was the only option left.
For Ross, it was nothing more than a formality.
The moment the ink dried, Sarah ceased being another man's wife and became his woman in the eyes of the world.
From that day forward, Sarah's life turned into something unrecognizable.
Ross claimed her without hesitation, fucking her every single day, sometimes more than once, as if marking her body over and over so she could never forget who she belonged to.
He didn't just take her in bed; he paraded her, showed her off, made her stand proudly at his side.
Ross even introduced Sarah to the rest of his women—each one beautiful, each one radiant in her own right.
At first, Sarah felt nervous, almost small, like she couldn't possibly compare.
But Ross's women accepted her with knowing smiles, and Ross himself erased any doubt with the way he treated her.
He pulled her close, whispered in her ear, touched her possessively in front of the others as if to declare, She is mine, and none of you can question it.
It became clear to everyone—Sarah wasn't just another woman in Ross's collection.
She was special.
The way he flaunted her, the way he spoiled her, the way he took her with such intensity... it was obvious.
Sooner or later, Sarah would become Ross's wife in name as well as in body.