My wife, Rita, and I was driving up along the Rhone valley. We had been 
spending a week on the French Riviera but had found it too busy for our 
liking. We wanted some relaxation and some rest after a very busy year. We 
had our own business that was doing extremely well and had got an offer 
that we couldn't resist from a large company to sell it to them and we had 
accepted the only drawback was that we had to stay on to get things going 
smoothly under the new management.

When things were going as well as they could we finally could take some 
well deserved time off and had decided to spend at least a month traveling 
in France.

After a week in Nice we decided to rent a caravan and drive up north and we 
were taking it very slowly. We stopped for the day in a small, unknown 
town, and parked our caravan in a camping-site we found near the river.

It wasn't crowded. Besides us there weren't more than a dozen tents.

We walked the short distance to the little town and found a restaurant were 
we could get some food. It was delicious and the wine they served to it was 
excellent so we drank two bottles. This made us a little round under our 
heels and eager for more action. We asked the patron if there was any bar 
in town and he recommended one not too far away.

The bar wasn't big there were just four tables and they were all taken but 
we were invited to sit at one were there already sat two men, elderly boys 
is I think a more appropriate description of them. They introduced 
themselves as we sat down as Heinz and Peter. They were German and was 
staying in the same camp-site as we.

They were very pleasant and the time passed quick and before we knew it we 
were on our way back to the campsite. When we got back to our caravan we 
invited the guys in for a nightcap and they accepted.

I had to go outside for a leak and one of the guys felt the same urge. We 
stood side by side, swaying almost in rhythm as we pissed and chatted. When 
we again entered I saw the other guy raise the bottle at me with a silent 
question. I nodded and he poured me some whisky. I sat and took a sip and 
then I couldn't move! I could see but not move any muscles in my body.

At first I was terrified. Had I had a stroke? To my relief, for the moment, 
I saw how Peter and Heinz whispered something and then Peter reached his 
hand in my way and waved it in front of me.

"Totally out!" he said. "I don't believe it! They are really out!"

I understood that they had drugged Rita and me with some sort of drug I'd 
never heard of and I was relieved at this insight but not for long though. 
How long would it last? Would I ever wake up again? And what would they do 
to us? Rob us? Kidnap us?

"Do we dare?" Heinz asked a little hesitantly.

"Of course we do. We have done enough to go to jail for a long while 
already so..."

What would they dare to do? I didn't have long to wait to find out.

"OK then. Let's get started," Heinz agreed.

"Ah, eager are we?"

"Shit yes. She's a real looker this one! I can't wait to see her naked!"

They were going to look at my wife while she was drugged! I could feel the 
anger boil up in me and I could actually taste the adrenaline in my mouth. 
Taste it? Yes I could. That meant that I could see, hear and taste. That 
was no consolation to me though. I was still unable to move, to prevent 
this to happen.

I looked at them as they lifted my wife up and laid her on the bed and 
started to unbutton her shirt. I knew that they would find flesh at once 
when they had it undone. Rita have rather small breasts and never bother 
with a bra and since her nipples aren't that big either it seldom shows 
that she is naked under.

"Oh," Peter moaned as he saw my wife's breasts. "There isn't much is 
there?" he said in a rather disappointed tone. Obviously he had the young 
mans ideas of how a woman should look. Big tits and big ass and a narrow 
waist between them. Well my wife didn't fill any of these criteria. She's 
slim. Small breast, narrow waist, round hips and a small but firm butt. I 
couldn't imagine any other woman being more beautiful than my Rita. I think 
I partly fell in love with her because she was my ideal of a woman.

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