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Betrayed

By: MistressMerry



Michael sat and stared at nothing through the bars of his cell. He was being released today; after three long years of his prison term. His lawyer had finally got him released; finally proved that the slut had lied and framed him. He never forgot that night and, in fact, had been planning his revenge for the time he'd spent in here.

He had met Angela online; she professed being submissive, but lacked training. After three months of emails and chatting, he arranged to meet her face to face. She was twenty, slim with mousy brown hair; basically she was average. He knew her family was well off, but she craved the discipline and rewards the life of a submissive would bring her. Michael was leery of taking her on because of her family, but she begged him over and over again to take her on as his sub; said she wanted to please him in every way. 

Michael had finally agreed and had started her training; she thoroughly enjoyed each aspect that was introduced to her. Angela was truly a pure slut in every form and he relished bringing it out in her. He felt he could trust her and gave her free reign of his home in her final stage of training; his fatal mistake. He had left the house for only a brief time and when he returned the police were waiting for him. She had called and told them she had been drugged, kidnapped and tortured by him; all lies. 

His lawyer had warned him about how the jury would react; he was correct. She gave a convincing performance on the stand; dressed like a sweet little "good" girl and crying at just the right times. His lawyer prepared him, but told him he would work for his release. He was sentenced to thirty years in prison with possible parole in fifteen. Today he was being release; the state said "sorry", but that didn't give him back three stolen years. His home was gone; sold to pay for everything the lawyer needed.

Michael heard the familiar clank of the locks being released to his cell; he smiled slightly to himself. His brother would pick him up and would have everything arranged. 'Yes', he thought, 'Angela didn't know about Samuel his twin'. He smiled when the cell door slid open and the guard ordered him forward. He obeyed, as always, with gritted teeth to be ordered about like a sub.

Samuel sat in the car outside with the engine running. He saw Michael exit through each set of gates until he was finally free of the prison. Michael walked over and got into the passenger seat and Samuel left quickly, but without drawing any attention. He knew where he was going as he'd been planning this for some time now. Twenty miles down the road he turned off into a secluded spot under some trees and shut the engine off. It was quiet; peaceful. He removed his seat belt and slid over to Michael.

Michael looked up as Samuel slid over; he had tears running down his cheeks. Only with Sam could he now release because they were together and alone. Sam embraced him with tears in his own eyes for what his brother had to endure for the last three years. He knew Mike had been raped repeatedly in there and had endured it all in silence. Now his torment was over; it was time for revenge. They sat for a good hour just hugging; enjoying their togetherness as only twins knew. 

"I've got everything set," said Sam. "A new place and we'll be together this time. I've made good investments so money is no concern. The money from the house ran out long ago."

Mike sat and listened; nodding his head occasionally to confirm that to Sam.

"This house is completely remote and I've had the renovations done by private contractors. I've had every single room completely sound-proofed; I believe, dear brother, you will be pleased once you see it. I've had our slut under surveillance for some time. She's a creature of habit and her family has disowned her so she's out on her own now."

Mike looked at his brother and smiled, "When?"

Sam returned his smile; 'good to see Mike smile again, but just a ghost of his old self', "we'll have her in five days. She's in Europe, but I've arranged her abduction. Even if her family gets concerned and tries to look for her, they'll be hunting over there and not here. No one will know the slut is ours."

"Anyway, it'll give you plenty of time for you to look over the new place and decide each step of her punishment." Mike nodded his head. Sam slid back over to the driver's side, backed out and continued his route. Mike eased the seat back and finally had his first peaceful sleep in three years.

Mike woke when he heard the sound of the tires leaving asphalt for gravel. He sat up and adjusted his seat back up to look at his surroundings. "Long road?" he asked.

"Yes." said Sam. "I made sure that this house was very remote. Nearest house is about thirty miles in any direction and I've installed surveillance and motion detectors throughout. Even if she manages to get out, she won't get far. Once she's here, I'll implant a chip under her skin at the base of her skull in order to track her."

Mike looked intently at Sam, "Base of her skull?" he inquired.

"Only place I figured won't receive punishment; was afraid the chip would get damaged anyplace else." Sam smiled with a gleam in his eyes and then laughed. Mike laughed as well. They finally pulled up to the house an hour later and Mike exited the car and stretched. Two stories and didn't look like much on the outside. 'Good', he thought, 'won't attract attention'.

"Come on Mike," said Sam, "I'll show you around." Sam led the way and the door opened for him. The nude woman immediately knelt as he entered and he walked past her. Mike's cock began to harden; it'd been three years since he actually had a woman. He walked past her to join his brother. The woman got up and closed the door and then knelt on the floor again.

Sam saw the lust in Mike's eyes, "Cindy will serve you in all ways Mike. She's completely broken in and I prefer her not to be too damaged. Save your anger for that slut whore we will be getting."

Mike looked at Sam and smiled; he could always count on him.

"Let me just take care of a problem first then you can show me around," said Mike.

"Go ahead," said Sam, "I'll see about getting us something to eat."

Mike turned back to the slut on the floor. "Get over here and assume the position."

Cindy moved quickly to Mike's feet, spread open her thighs and laced her fingers behind her head thrusting out her breasts. Mike reached down and felt her firm breasts and pinched her nipples. She moaned slightly enjoying the feel of his hands and pushed against them. 

"Just a little slut." and he pinched his nipple harder.

"Yes my Master. I'm your slut to do with as you see fit," she replied.

Mike's cock got harder hearing her say those words. "Release my cock slut."

Cindy quickly reached up and undid Mike's pants, drew down his pants and underwear releasing his hard cock. She went to place it in her mouth and Mike pulled her back roughly by the hair.

"Did I tell you to suck it slut?"

"No Master. I only sought to please you," Cindy replied.

Mike had enough blowjobs in prison. What he wanted now was pussy to bury his shaft in. 

"Don't assume to know what pleases me. I'll tell you what I want and when I want it slut!" he yelled and released her head. "Stand up and face the wall, bend and spread your legs."

Cindy got up as fast as she could and complied with his wishes. Mike stepped behind her and ran the head of his cock along her slit; she was slick.

"Nice slut. You like it rough don't you whore." Mike said as he continued to rub his cock along her slit.

"Yes Master. I'm yours Master. Use me anyway you wish Master." Cindy replied.

"This is what I wish," and Mike thrust his cock into her cunt. He grabbed her nipples and pinched and pulled them hard causing her to scream. He kept plunging in and out of her hot cunt; relishing the fact that he was finally inside a woman again. 

He finally let go of her nipples and grabbed her hips; she was breathing hard and getting close to cumming. "You will not cum whore!" he screamed at her and he pounded her cunt relentlessly; she was holding it in for him; concentrating hard not to cum.

He finally felt his balls tightening and knew that his own release was starting, "Cum now you slut; cum on my cock; squeeze it all out into you!!!" he screamed. Cindy came and her vaginal walls started to milk his cock. "Arghhh!!!!," he screamed as he felt his first load shoot inside her, but he kept pounding her hard until there wasn't anything left to shoot.

Mike moved up close to her trembling body and pressed her to his front. She rose and eased back into him still quivering from her orgasm. "Shhhh," he whispered into her ear and he cupped her breast gently. "You did well and pleased me greatly Cindy. I shall enjoy you immensely. Tell me, are you more than a pain slut?"

"Yes my Master Michael. Master Samuel said he has trained me to be everything that you would want me to be. I am totally yours my Master." She moaned slightly as his hand caressed the top of her shaved mound.

"Then turn around and kiss your new Master." Cindy turned and gave Michael a long deep slow and lingering kiss. When he broke it off, he pulled back and smiled at her. "You will do very well my slut. Clean off my cock and redress me and then show me where the kitchen is before you go get cleaned up; I will use you again later."

Cindy smiled affectionately at Michael, "Yes Master Michael." She knelt and took his cock in her mouth, gently cleaned off their combined juices and redressed him. She stood up, downcast her eyes and led him to the kitchen area. Sam was getting his cock sucked by another slut kneeling on the kitchen floor. He had just pushed his cock down her throat and was cumming when Mike and Cindy came into the kitchen. "Go do what I ordered," said Mike and Cindy left to obey.

Sam finished cumming and smiled; he opened his eyes at Mike's words. Ellen had just finished cleaning him off and was replacing his cock. Sam reached down and zipped up his pants. Mike walked over to stand just off to the side.

"Ellen, this is Master Michael and he will be staying here with us. Although I am your primary Master, you will obey his instructions completely."

"Yes Master Samuel. I am happy to meet you Master Michael," and she looked up for the first time. Mike laughed at her confusion as she kept looking from himself to Sam and back again. 

Ellen blushed, "I am so sorry my Masters, but I can't tell you apart. I will obey all orders unless they conflict each other, then you have to let me know which Master you are." At that she kissed Master Michael's feet and then turned and kissed Master Samuel's feet.

Sam laughed looking at Mike. "Well, I think that sounds reasonable. How about you Mike?"

Mike was still laughing and feeling a bit better, "That works for me also. I believe I will give Cindy the same orders."

"Ah," said Sam, "Then you are pleased with your new slut?"

Mike laughed, "She has relaxed me and reminded me of how good it is to be a Master again."

"Good." said Sam. "Ellen, what's to eat? We're hungry."

"I have prepared you both a steak dinner my Masters. It is ready whenever you are," she said.

"Set the table then and I'll get the wine," said Sam. "Come on Mike; let me show you the wine cellar." Sam led him to a side door and down a flight of stairs. Mike saw shelves and shelves of various wines. He walked through a couple of aisles and was impressed and told Sam so. 

"I think you might be more impressed by the next room. It's back here," and he motioned for Mike to follow. It just looked like a back wall until Sam pulled on a hidden lever. A section of the wall silently slid to the side. Within was a good sized room; complete with all the instruments and devices of punishment a Master could desire.

"Oh yes," said Mike. "Very impressive." He had a gleam in his eyes that Sam was happy to see. "The slut will be kept here for our amusement and punishment," and he indicated a large kennel cage bolted to the floor. "Maybe after she is sufficiently punished and broken, we'll chain her in different rooms to be used. As I said earlier, every room is sound-proofed; including this one." Mike felt his cock getting hard again looking at all the gear. He was looking forward to see her face when she finds that he's been released and now truly has her.

Sam saw the anger return to Mike's face. Maybe for Cindy's sake he should bring her here sooner. He'll make a call before they eat. "Let's get the wine; Ellen should have dinner set by now." He led the way out and showed Mike the locking sequence once inside to triple lock the door and again outside to secure it again.

Sam allowed Mike to select his choice of wine and then handed it to Ellen in the kitchen. She bowed and accepted it and went to open the wine. "All is prepared my Masters; I will bring the wine in immediately."

Sam led Mike to the dining room and excused himself; said he had a brief phone call to make. When Sam returned, he had a huge smile on his face. Ellen had finished pouring the wine and was waiting for her Master to be seated; afterwards she knelt on the floor by his side.

"Wonderful news Mike; the slut will be ours tomorrow. I called to see if it could be moved up and they said it was no problem. They'll have her drugged for the entire trip. She'll think she's still in Europe."

Mike lifted his wine glass to Sam, "Here's to my brother and how fitting that she's going to be drugged and kidnapped just like she lied about. How will she arrive?"

"Plane and then helicopter to here; I'll hand them a briefcase of money and they'll disappear." Sam raised his glass to clink lightly against Mike's, "Tomorrow let the punishment begin," and then they both laughed. Sam and Mike settled down to eat their dinner; it was wonderful. 

Afterwards they left and Sam showed Mike the rest of the house including the monitor security room and tracking center. Mike saw two bleeps on the monitor that indicated the house and looked at Sam. "Cindy and Ellen have already received their chips. I do it myself. Oh, by the way, I also know how to pierce; thought you might like it for the slut," and smiled wickedly. "I can make it fast and easy or as painful as you'd like it."

Mike smiled at Sam, "The slut isn't getting anything easy; not ever again."

Mike spent the rest of the evening with Ellen. After their first initial rough session, Mike made gentle sex with her; saving his energy for the next day.

* * * * *

Angela arrived shortly after 1 pm. Her body was dumped on the ground, the briefcase handed over; no words were spoken. Sam and Mike carried her down to the punishment room and laid her on the concrete floor. Sam knew that Mike needed this more than him, so he waited for Mike to decide what to do first.

"Let's cuff her hands and feet to the spreader bars. We'll hoist her up all the way once she regains consciousness. I think you should go ahead and put the chip in now. That way I can see how it's done."

"Sure thing," said Sam and he got out the needed supplies. "It's fast and then I place a small bandage over it until her skin closes." In no time she was tagged and the chip was activated. "What do you want to do with this hair?" and he indicated her mane spread out on the floor.

"I think I'll just braid that now on top of her head to give me something to pull her around by. If she gives me trouble; I'll just shave her bald," said Mike.

Sam got him a brush and elastic to tie her hair off with. Mike brushed and pulled her hair tight and tied it on top. Then he braided it tightly and tied it off again. He stood and looked down at her, "How long do we have to wait?"

Sam smiled, "About one minute after I give her an injection." Mike's head snapped up and he smiled in return. "Let's begin dear brother."

Angela opened her eyes and realized that her hands and feet were attached to spreader bars. Her hands were already raised above her head and her feet chained to the floor. The light was extremely bright and once her head cleared and she saw him standing in front of her; her stomach dropped and fear gripped her. Then she looked quickly around the room at all the equipment and started to shake.

"Seal the door Master Samuel. No one gets to hear her screams but us." 

That's when she first saw Master Samuel come out from behind her. Fear unlike she had ever known ran through her body. All she could think was, 'Oh my God; there are two of them'.

Mike was smiling at her fear, "Three years; you stole three years of my life slut. You lied and lied and lied. Now you will pay dearly for those lies." She started to open her mouth to speak. "Don't say a single word to me or I might just get a pair of pliers and rip the lying thing out." She shut her mouth and stared at him and then at his brother and back to him again.

Mike hit a button and the spreader bar with her hands started to rise. She scrambled as well as she could to try to stand, but it kept rising. She was stretched securely now in an upright position. Mike produced a knife and her eyes got wide as he approached her. He systematically cut away all her clothing and it lay in shreds around her on the floor.

He stood back and looked at the slut before him. "Looks like the slut hasn't kept herself clean shaven brother. Got any wax?" Mike smiled as she was shaking her head 'no'. Sam went to a cabinet and produced two jars. Mike took one and the wooden stick and started to coat it all over her pussy. He applied the strips and let it set. Sam worked on her underarms while Mike proceeded to her legs. When she was completely covered, they both stood back to admire their work.

"I had to endure a lot of pain while inside slut so it's only fitting for you to endure some in return." Mike turned to his brother and smiled, "Slowly."

Angela screamed as Sam slowly peeled the strip from under her arm. Tears were running down her face and she was gasping for air. Sam felt under her arm and looked at the strip. "I guess it doesn't work as well going slowly Master Michael, we'll have to do it several times."

Mike laughed, "We'll do it for however long it takes. Let's see how much we get with this first run through."

Angela screamed again when Sam slowly peeled the strip away from her other underarm. Mike grabbed Angela hard by the chin and forced her to look into his eyes, "You use to love the pain slut. Let's see if you still do." He put his fingers in her slit and she was wet. "So you still are a pain slut; that's good," and he started to slowly peel a strip from her crotch. Her screams echoed through the chamber and were music to his ears.

Mike and Sam worked on Angela for two hours until they had removed her hair. Sam knelt down behind her and adjusted the spreader bar on her feet as far as she could go. Mike went to the wall and brought back a cane whooshing it through the air to get the feel of it back once again.

Angela was surprised that she had been able to endure their pain so far. When she heard the whoosh, she tilted her head up to look and realized that her pain had only just begun. Mike's first blow landed across her ass bringing a delightful scream. He worked his way downward so she had a welt every inch and then started up to end at her shoulders.

He stopped momentarily to grab her braid forcing her head back and tied it in that position; forcing a curve. He was going to start on her mound, but lashed out across her nipples instead. Again he covered her with welts spaced an inch apart and the whole time he never spoke or taunted her. She had quit screaming long before he had finished; not because she didn't want to, but because she had lost her voice.

Mike stepped back to admire the marks. He knew she wouldn't be able to rest tonight because she wouldn't be able to find a comfortable place to sleep. "We'll stop now and put her in the cage. All she gets is a bowl of water. The slut gets to go without food like I did my first night."


Betrayed



Sam went over and unlocked the cage and threw a blanket on the concrete floor. They undid her arms and legs; Angela sat and looked up at them. She could see the anger still in both their faces; like a mirror.

"Crawl slut," ordered Mike. "That's your home from now on. Crawl like the filthy animal you are before I get down a whip."

Angela tenderly got on her hands and knees feeling the welts covering her legs. She crawled into the cage and on to the blanket. Mike placed a stainless steel bowl in her cage. He grabbed a garden hose and filled it half full. She hung her head, but snapped it back up at the sound. Mike was peeing into the bowl. 

"I expect that water to be drunk by the time we return. The only water I could drink my first day was from the toilet. You'll experience all I had to and much more slut."

They both left and secured the door. Sam turned to his brother and hugged him to his chest with tears in his eyes. He was sure he was going to find out more as the days progressed about Mike's ordeal, but he was happy that Mike now had an outlet to get it all out and behind him. This slut would serve their purpose and then probably be sold overseas. He'll wait; it would be Mike's call.

"Let's go have some dinner and do some planning. I'm going to assume that at some point you'd like her nipples pierced for weights. I'll show you all the possibilities including a whole line along her tongue in case you want her to give you a blowjob again. It'll intensify the feeling along the underneath side of your cock," said Sam as he released Mike from the hug. They both walked back to go upstairs; much planning to be done.



Betrayed



It wasn't my choice, standing here with my heart thumping. Trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I felt Coach's hands move from my ribcage up to my breasts. Those hands were foreign, not my own. They kneaded my breasts through my shirt, pinched my nipples. The hands moved to my shoulders, where the fingers stretched to my collarbone and stroked my trembling neck. 

As Coach grabbed a handful of my long, thick black hair and yanked my head back, my mind flashed over the events that led up to this situation.

I had just finished track practice and went back to the locker room to change only to discover the doors were locked. At eighteen years old, I was a senior on the girls varsity long distance team and good race times meant extra hours on the track. It was often just me and Coach walking in at 5 p.m., and we'd always had a healthy rapport until tonight. Finding the locker room doors locked, I knocked at his office to see if he'd let me borrow the space to change.

"Sure, come on in, Becks. Those janitors are morons--they know we always stay til five. Take your time, I'll just call my wife and tell her I'm running a little late today."

"Thanks so much, Coach. It's too cold outside to go home in my practice clothes!"

As he waited in the hallway, I quickly stripped down and rummaged in my bag for street clothes. Suddenly, a glint caught the corner of my eye. My heart stopped as I looked up to find what appeared to be the lens of a camera directed at me, partially hidden in sports equipment that was piled in the corner of his office. The red recording light was on. 

What the fuck.

The discovery of the camera left me feeling shocked and violated. My brother and I had grown up in a very sheltered household. Uncertain what to do, nervousness set in when I heard Coach's voice talking on the phone in the hallway. 

He'd always seemed so nice. That prick. How dare he?

Half-dressed and confused about Coach's intentions, I quickly debated my options. I dressed swiftly, then shakily picked up the phone on his desk. As I began dialing the cops, a knock loudly shook the door. Nearing a panic, I fought it down and answered, "Yes?"

Teasingly Coach called out, "You pass out in there, Becks? What's taking you so long?"

"N-nothing. Almost done."

Hurriedly, I slammed the phone down without meaning to. Hearing the noise, he barged in. Caught with my hand on the phone, Coach turned his gaze to my face, his once friendly eyes now tinged with a creepy menace. Chills went down my back. Taking stock of my flushed cheeks and translucent, after-workout glow, he slowly and deliberately closed and locked the door behind him. Trapped in this confined space, my breathing grew rapid. My thin 5'4" frame was no match for his 6' muscular build. Never having so much as kissed a boy, I was a late bloomer, and as he approached me, I felt a sickening dread in the pit of my stomach. 

"Rebecca, who were you calling?" 

Why is he using my full name?

Summoning my courage, I confronted him, "C-coach, what the hell is that camera doing over there?"

He chuckled softly, menacingly, "Oh Rebecca, what do you think it's for? Do you really think the janitors would lock up so early without someone telling them to?" 

As he slowly drew nearer, I kept backing up until I hit the wall. My clammy hands pressed against the wooden paneling. 

Tanned from hours spent outdoors, Coach wasn't a bad looking guy, in a five-o'clock-shadow kind of way. I knew from our runs that his broad chest was dusted with golden hair, lighter than the chestnut brown on his head. His hands were strong and deft, but I didn't want them touching me now, not like this: alone in an empty building, with no one to hear me cry out.

One hand suddenly went up to my throat, pinning me to the wall, his hazel eyes piercing my large, dark brown ones. Suddenly my red plaid shirt and skinny indigo jeans felt uncomfortable, as a prickly heat spread over my body. My breath caught in my throat and I managed to whisper, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because now that you're legal, I can," he said with a low laugh.

Then he spun me around and pulled me against his chest as his hands began to explore my breasts, my neck, my soft stomach. Yanking my hair, he pulled my entire body into a tight hold with both arms, and he lowered his head to my neck, breathing in my scent. I knew it was soft, musky, sweet. I felt the prickle of his stubble first, then the pressure of his lips behind my ear. His tongue, wet and soft. 

I had never thought of Coach in this way. Had never let my mind wander into sexual territory when thinking of him. He was a figure of authority, a friendly mentor. He had a wife and family for God's sake!

But with his mouth on my neck, his body pressed against mine, and a bulge jutting into my butt through his jeans, my mind was no longer thinking rationally. As if under a spell, I inhaled his scent: sweat, sun, grass, laundry detergent from his t-shirt, something else, something intoxicating. 

Unbuttoning my shirt, he drew back to peel it off me and tossed it to the floor. Then he unhooked my bra, and shame washed over me as it fell away. 

This is my coach! I'm a good girl, and only an equally wholesome and caring guy should be touching me like this. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Cheeks burning, I choked back a sob. Being touched by him felt so good, but so deeply wrong at the same time. 

Now bare, he massaged my breasts more roughly. Pinched the erect nipples so hard my eyes watered and my nose began to run. 

"You're so hot, I've been wanting to do this for so long," he breathed into my hair. 

Then, hands on my hips, he turned me around and assaulted me with a deep, passionate kiss. Awakening some primal urge inside me, I kissed back, feeling his heart thumping in his chest. Fingers hooked tightly through the belt loops of my jeans, he pulled my pelvis into him and ground against me. The bulge in his pants rubbed my clit through our clothes.

So good, it feels so good.

Breaking the kiss, his eyes traveled down my body. As if deciding suddenly to feast, he tore my fly open and pulled my jeans halfway down my thighs. Massaging the soft white flesh of my buttocks, the tips of his fingers felt me through my panties, dipping into the hot, damp crevice between my legs.

Moaning involuntarily, my hands went to his shoulders to steady my balance. As his fingers continued to rub the crack between my butt cheeks, down to my pussy and back up again, I unconsciously wrapped my arms around his back and closed my eyes. Reveling in the raw pleasure, my hands traveled down his back and gripped his buttocks, pulling him against me.

Suddenly he stepped back and, caught up in the moment, I protested. "Look at you," he snickered. "You fucking slut." He quickly pulled off his t-shirt, revealing his hardened chest, his abs sculpted by miles of running. 

In my shame and confusion, my heart ran, too. The little girl inside me was now miles and miles away. Broken, perhaps gone forever.

Upset and angry at this fucked up situation, I decided he would not take my virginity without a fight. Savagely, I pushed him back, and slapped him with all my strength. 

Startled by the force of my slap, he stopped for a second. Breathing hard, my eyes leveled with his, daring him breach to me again. Then anger contorted his face like a hurricane and he slapped me back. Hard. 

Stunned, I stood there for a moment, as the pain pulsed through my jaw. I thought that would be it, but my slap had unleashed something inside him. He slapped me again from the other side, the blow sending me staggering as I threw a hand on his desk for support.

Rage animating his movements, Coach threw me on his desk, pulled off my jeans, and tore off my cotton panties. I was now splayed across his desk completely naked. Grabbing the backs of my knees, he dragged me to the edge of the cold wooden desk and ground his crotch into my sex. The rough denim scraped the folds of my pussy. Despite myself, I began to get even wetter, leaving a stain on the front of his jeans. 

Lowering his face to only inches from mine he said with his voice low, "Rebecca, if you ever raise a hand to me like that again, you'll regret it." 

Cold fear rising in my throat, I could feel myself falling apart. "Please don't hurt me," I pleaded hoarsely. "Coach," I said, hoping to snap him out of this madness. "Please don't hurt me," I repeated in a whisper.

In response, he brusquely undid his belt buckle, took off his jeans, and flung them aside, his face a mask of fury. This man was a far cry from supportive, good-humored coach I had grown to look up to and trust. As he pulled his boxers down, his cock sprang into view. It was thick, a full eight inches, and terrifying. Though I'd often masturbated to fantasies of various crushes, I'd never ventured to insert anything larger than a finger into my pussy.

Grabbing the backs of my knees again, he spread my legs open wide. His cock hovered at the mouth of my pussy, his precum mixing with my juice. The smooth head of his penis stirred the folds of my pussy, parting them wider and wider. It felt so intimate, so desperately wrong, so delicious. 

Then he plunged all the way in, the pain ripping through me as I cried out. Tears escaped from the corners of my closed eyes. Sensations of fullness, violation, and desire swam through me.

I'm not a virgin anymore.

"You're so tight," he exhaled.

He pulled out almost all the way, then plunged deep into my pussy again. With long, savage strokes, he hammered my pussy. I could feel him hit my womb. My feet had found the edge of the desk, and my knees were bent in the air, waving like the wings of a butterfly with every stroke. My back flat on the desk, I wrapped my hands around his muscled forearms for leverage. 

Coach's face reflected the intense pleasure he derived from fucking his star athlete on his desk. 

The initial pain that had torn through my body dulled to a numbed pounding. Then an animal lust gradually took hold and I began responding to his thrusts.

As if in a trance, I moaned, "Coach."

I had begun to enjoy him raping me. Past the point of redemption now, I spiraled into ecstasy. 

"That's it, Becks. You like me fucking you, huh."

"Harder...deeper," I moaned.

Pounding into me so hard now that the desk rattled, we held onto each other in the throes of desire until neither of us could take any more. Moving one hand to my asshole and inserting a finger, he pushed me over the edge, and I came in a shuddering heap. Fingers clamped around his shoulders, my back arched and my pussy spasmed around his shaft. 

With long thrusts, he came a moment after, his cock pulsing inside of me, the jizz coating my unprotected womb. He collapsed on top of me and I fell limp.

Slowly regaining my breath and my consciousness, I stared blankly at the plaster ceiling, wondering how something so pleasurable could make me feel so degraded. 

Then I recalled the camera in the corner of his room. Fuck. As if reading my thoughts, he murmured into my ear, "Tomorrow we'll watch our little video."



Betrayed



My name is James Dalton. Marianne, my current wife, and I met twenty-one years ago at a small soiree for her date, Mr. Mel Calvo, a gentleman who had just been promoted from sales manager to VP of sales for Riley and Bozman Industries, that, upon the retirement of his predecessor. At the time I was twenty-four, and proud holder of an M.B.A. in business from Wharton. I had just been hired by RBI, who incidentally are makers of various electrical components and computer hardware; it was my first company party. 

RBI had been headhunting for a couple of assistant product managers and one such for a quantity control position. Though I'd had but limited experience working summers during my college career, I'd gotten the assistant quantity control managerial job based on my degree and the subsequent interview I'd had with Nick Bozman himself. It was he who had invited me to the party that night. 

Marianne at the time was a refugee from the secretarial pool. Mr. Calvo had taken a fancy to her and asked her to be his arm candy for the affair. At any rate, after that night at the party, Marianne and I had become an item. We'd danced some, drank some, and talked a lot. She accepted my enthusiastic offer to begin dating, and a year later we were man and wife. 

Our home life was good, or so I'd thought. No damn it! It was good. It really was. And, I thought, I really thought, that the sex had been as well. It was only later that I discovered just how illusory some of my thoughts were in terms of the sex part. But, more about that in a bit.

I progressed over time at RBI; finally becoming VP of procurement and quantity control. My division did all of the materials buying and all of the inventory control. I loved the job, and I especially loved the pay and the perks. The pay, allowed Marianne to be a stay-at-home wife and mother. Yeah we had children: twin girls Melanie and Barbie: both twenty now and juniors at—where else—Wharton. Marianne became active in the community, and her commitments kept her, and keep her, almost as busy as me.

At any rate, for the first few years the sex between us had been hot, then lukewarm, then hohum. Neither of us realized what was happening at first. When we did, our attempts to revitalize our libidos took the forms of fantasy talk and role playing; it'd worked for a while. But now...

******

I am sitting on the barstool at the wet bar in our den and reading the letter she'd left me. She'd done it; she'd actually really gone and done it.

I'd begged her not to. I'd even tried to bribe her: she'd always wanted to go to Europe. But, evidently not more than she wanted to take a lover and have me be okay with it; all of it, her ideas, the result of our shared fantasies. I was not okay with it, fantasies were just that and nothing more. The verbal warfare that ensued was not good. Eventually, she called my bluff. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

The whole mess began two months ago, a Tuesday it was. The mess the result of us deciding to go for one of our fantasies one time, that more or less for the hell of it. Tonight was a Friday, if that means anything at all, and I am alone holding her letter, thinking about our daughters, Marianne, us. My life is fucked!

******

I reread the letter for maybe the fourth time.

Jimmy,

I have decided to take the bull by the horns and take a lover, as we—well I—talked about, and yes, it's Marcus Williams. I am not doing this to hurt us or to end us. I am doing it for me. I need it Jimmy. I hope you can find it in your heart to allow me this freedom. Trite as it may sound, I love only you; I love our babies; I do not love Marcus, but, I do need what he can do for me. 

That one time, seemingly so long ago now, Jimmy, has made me need it. If we hadn't decided on me taking a lover so you could watch, well, we did and so here we are. I know we planned on it being a onetime thing, but well, sometimes things don't work out like we think they will. This is one of those times.

I'll be home around 10:00. If you're home and waiting for me, well, then I'll know we have a marriage and we can talk about where we will go from here. Jim, I hope we can move forward and continue as husband and wife, as mom and dad. I need you and I want you, Jimmy. Please allow me to fulfill this need. 

Your loving wife,

Marianne

I refolded the letter and set it almost ceremoniously on the bar. I went around to the back of the bar and found me a marker, a red one. I wrote my response on the back of the letter: NOT A CHANCE! She wanted me, she said; well, evidently not as much as she wanted her freedom. It, we, were over.

She was right of course, at least in part. I had encouraged her to getting it on with another man so I could watch, and, so she could watch me watch her—in our fantasies it had always been a two-way street. It had been a really hot fantasy that we'd shared for years, among a number of others, and the time seemed right to just do it. The Man, Marcus Williams, was a sales agent passing through; and he seemed right too. He was here for a few days, as he said; he'd be gone forever after that—so we erroneously thought. I'd approached him with Marianne's tentative approval. I arranged a dinner meeting for the three of us.

After some shy-time where all concerned consumed a significant amount of liquid courage, Marcus began flirting shamelessly with Marianne. It took a bit longer for her, but soon Marianne was reciprocating. Me? I was—what—an interested spectator. I will admit to feeling some negative vibes as Marianne began to more or less ignore me as the flirtations went on; but, I reasoned; and I was still able to reason; Marianne and I were in our mid-forties, Marcus was in his early thirties, too young for him to get involved with us to any significant degree. Again, that was my reasoning. I was wrong.

Again, Marianne and I had engaged in so many different private fantasies, on so many nights, and never tried hardly any of them. It seemed to me that here was an opportunity to get one of the biggees done with no risk. Marianne, again, had agreed that so long as it was a onetime deal, that it might be a kick. So...two months gone we did it.

******

Two months ago:

Marcus had showed up that first night, and in spite of the previously noted ice breaker at the bistro, he was at least as nervous as I was. I counted that a good thing. As for Marianne, she appeared—what—comfortable. I thought that odd as hell; but, what the hey, she was a woman; women didn't think like us men.

She'd made us tea. There would be no drinking this night, no alcohol that is. She was in charge, and she wanted everybody in full performance mode.

As we sat and sipped our tea, I noticed that she and Marcus kept glancing at me. I had to wonder what was passing through their minds. But, their words, everything they said to me, was clearly meant to allay any concerns I might be harboring. All in all it was a good beginning or so I thought then; now, is a whole different kettle of fish. After maybe half an hour of making ourselves more or less at ease, she sent Marcus down the hall to get himself ready; she came to me; I was going to get a reup of my marching orders.

"Jimmy..." she started.

"Well, here we are, babe," I said. "Wanna call it off?" I was kinda smiling, but it was a weak smile, I knew, I was becoming a little unsettled, worried. She gave me a condescending smirk and ignored my weakly expressed negativity.

"Jimmy, once again, when we go in there, you know what to do, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I sit and watch but say nothing," I said.

"And?" she said, clearly not satisfied with my incomplete answer.

"And I'm not to play with myself or to give—him—dirty looks or do anything to upset the apple cart," I said. She nodded.

"Yes, and after he's gone?" she said. 

"I am to strip naked and eat you out, clean all of his cum out of you. Yes, I know," I said. I'd been cleaning my own stuff out of my wife for as long as we'd been married. Somebody else's? Well, how bad could it be.

"Yes. Jimmy, that's exactly right. I know we've been over this several times. But, I just wanted to make sure that we don't have any glitches. You know, so we can enjoy ourselves and get the most out of it as we can. You've agreed to become a real cuckold tonight, Jim, not just an imaginary one. We have talked about that too—a lot—and while some of it may be a real test for us, none of it should be a surprise. So again, are we okay, Jim? Are we sure?" she said. I nodded. "Jim, once again, this is a onetime thing, so if we are going to do it, go ahead with it, we need to make the most of it. Okay?" she said. She was repeating herself; I guess she wasn't quite as comfortable as I'd thought; she was nervous too.

"Yes, of course, and we will," I said. She pointed to the credenza by the far wall. 

"Bring your cap. Put it on the night stand when we go inside. Once you have been cuckolded, you will have to put it on and go to your knees and stay there the rest of the while my lover is here. Okay?" she said. I nodded. 

The cap was a conical thing. It was an exact replica of the old dunce caps of bygone eras; its sole purpose was to humiliate and chasten. But, instead of DUNCE being emblazoned on it; it had the word CUCK on it instead, again, same purpose obviously as the old dunce cap. She'd made it herself, sewn it, out of felt. When she'd first shown it to me, I was appalled, but, I had agreed to wear it as she dictated; it was part of the scene: the lot of a fantasy cuck was to obey, so I'd obey. 

She led me into the room and pointed to the chair some six or eight feet from the bed. After setting the cap on the night stand, as she had directed me, I took my seat.

No words of greeting, or looks for that matter, passed between me and her guest. He stood at the foot of the bed and waited for instructions. He was her servant the same as I was; well, maybe not the same, not the same service for sure.

She flashed me one small smile and went to her knees in front of him. Neither had so far touched the other. She looked up at him and then down at his still hidden manhood. She seemed mesmerized by the thought of it. 

She stretched her hand toward him and traced the outline of the bulge in his pants with her index finger. He, for his part, shuddered at her touch.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she unzipped his jeans. The bulge that had been restrained by his zipped pants, now protruded almost, but not quite, obscenely through the opening in his trousers. His cock, the actual flesh of it still hidden by the material of his kelly green boxers, was clearly huge. I swallowed hard. I had to wonder if my wife would ever be able to go back to my less than generous member. That thought began to grow in intensity and caused me some worry.

Unbuckling his pants, she pulled them down to his ankles. Her thumbs invaded the elastic of his boxers and peeled them down as well. Her eyes never left his penis as she did so. 

Taking hold of his cock, she stroked in almost inquisitively. She kissed the tip and then with a final glance toward her now suffering husband—me—she let it slip between her lips. She began to suck and lick him lovingly; her commitment to him bothered me a lot; but, straining to maintain my senses, I gathered the last, vestigial elements of my self-control and watched.

Marcus eyes were glazed over. No words had yet passed his lips, but his look was screaming his rapture. He came; he came copiously. Marianne's lips were smeared with his cum, that is, that amount that she had not managed to swallow.

She rose and went to the bed splaying her legs as she waited for him. He stood over her for a moment not yet ready to take to the bed as she had. He slowly jacked himself for a couple of minutes. Miraculously—it seemed a miracle to me—he was hard again. I thought I detected a look of concern from my wife at the sight of his engine: I thought her legs closed a smidgen, but it could have been my imagination.

He loomed above her submissive and prostrate form. Leaning down, he kissed each of her nipples and finally her lips. He had so far been very gentle with her. He raised himself a bit and played with her breasts. I could see her lick her lips in anticipation of what was coming.

"Are you ready, woman?" he whispered.

"Yes, sir," she said. He looked over at me.

"Are you ready, Mr. Dalton?" he said. I swallowed and nodded. His smile was condescending, as though announcing my inferiority to himself. Well, I deserved it; hell, I was inferior to him. I noticed my wife looking at me as he spoke to me. Her smile was benevolent. She looked back at him as he lowered himself to her and found her opening.

I saw him take hold of his penis and rub it gently up and down her slit. Suddenly he pushed the head of his cock into her. She grunted.

"Oh my!" she said. He pushed in a little more, pulled out a little, and pushed in again. He started seesawing in and out of her and then he did it. He rammed himself home. She shrieked her shock at his skewering of her.

I was a cuckold. Once he came, I would have to go to my knees and wear my cap. My humiliation was total; I felt giddy. He seemed almost in a hurry to do it to me. But, I suppose, as hot as I was, I would have been doing the same thing.

I saw him stiffen just as my wife screamed in the throes of her own orgasm. His jerky movement told me that my status had been changed from master of the house to that of my wife's cuckold, and, his. I rose to my duty.

He lay beside her now. They both watched me as I made my way, tentatively to the night stand. My back to them, I donned the cap. I turned and did my best not to meet their gaze as I went back to where my chair was and took my place on my knees facing them. 

He took her twice more before even he couldn't get it up again. He dressed—he didn't hurry—kissed my wife, and came to me. Still on my knees, he looked down at me, smiled turned and left without another word; that was just as well.

Marianne smiled over at me. "Time for you to do your duty, my husband," she said. I stood, disrobed, and came to her. I was still wearing my cap. Her inner thighs were a mess—my mess to clean up. Starting at her knees, where a small amount of her lover's cum had somehow been smeared, I began licking her. I slowly worked my way up toward her slit and began sucking him out of her. I had worried that I wouldn't be able to stand doing another man's clean up, though I had determined that I somehow would; the reality wasn't as bad as I'd feared. 

She grabbed my head and forced me to greater efforts as she neared another orgasm; I was proud of myself for that one.

"Lay down on your back, Jimmy, do it now," she commanded. I followed her directive. She swung her legs over me and settled her pussy over my face and lowered herself. I'd thought that I'd cleaned her out; boy, was I wrong. She drained a seeming quart of him from her vaginal canal. I took it all. I licked her anus now and she giggled.

"That's it my little cucky. Clean my pooper real good. Oh my what a wonderful gift you've given me tonight, my husband," she said.

I had to allow that I was feeling pretty good too. She swung her legs back and settled onto her back. She spread her legs as she had for him. "Take me, Jimmy. Come on and take me, and don't you dare cum until I do! Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, getting into my role. She did cum, but not until my second go. I was far too hot and horny too last in my first go 'round. 

All in all things had worked out according to plan. It had been a great evening.

That night with Marcus, was a watershed, at least for Marianne. For me it had been one hot session, but a onetime only event, not to be repeated. My wife and I had seemingly been rejuvenated sexually because of it. The next weeks were a succession of sexual adventures between us. 

The experiment had been great, and, again, at least as I thought, that should have been the end of it. It wasn't. 

******

One month Ago:

"Sorry, I'm late, babe. The boss called me in for a meeting," I said.

"That's okay, but I'm feeling frisky; I hope you're not too tired," said Marianne. I smiled.

"Never too tired for a woman that looks like you," I said. She giggled and all but dragged me upstairs. 

She slipped out of the middie skirt and blouse she was wearing and stood looking at me like I was some kind of a dummy. "You need help getting undressed slow poke?" she said. 

"Uh—no," I said. Coming out of my semi-reverie. I hurried to get naked. She was still in her heels, panties and bra. She crooked a finger at me and pointed to the floor. I looked askance at her.

"Huh?" I said.

"On your knees, mister. Do it now." I did as she said. She moved to me and took my head and pulled me to her still panty-clad mound. "Suck on my panties, little man. I need you to get me ready for a really good screwing. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I pulled her into my face and sucked on her panties and her mound. She was soaking wet. I couldn't believe how hot I was. I needed this woman and I needed her in the worst of ways.

She pushed me away and turned around. "Pull my panties down," she said. I did so. I could smell her female musk. It was very powerful. "My anus, Jimmy, lick it and suck it." I can't remember any time—ever—that I was so turned on. I went after her butt with a wild abandoned I had never equaled. She was softly laughing at my desperation.

Pulling away from me once again, she went to the bed and bent over it, her legs dangling over the side. "From the rear. Now!" she said. I pushed my penis as deep as I could into her flowing pussy. I went slow at first, but soon I was drilling her with everything I had. She was struggling to maintain control as one small orgasm after another shook her. Finally she screamed, then panted, then squirted her juices out onto me and down my legs. Jesus, she'd been hot and ready.

I slid to the floor and leaned back against the bed, not even able to make it up and onto it. I sat gasping for breath. "God, that was good," I said. Marianne was still bent over the bed my cum leaking down her leg.

"Yes, yes it was," she said. She climbed onto the bed and spread herself. "Get up here and clean me out," she said. As hot as I was, I didn't hesitate. I had eaten my own cum many times in our marriage, but never with so great a need to do it. She came again at least once I was sure of.

Hard once more I took her missionary style before I had to surrender, unable to go again.

We slept hard and long. Little did I suspect that that night, as glorious as it had been, was nothing but a set up to get me to accept my place as a permanent cuckold of my wife and her lover. I would soon discover that truth, and in the discovery just how destructive of us—or at least me—it would be.

******

I could smell the coffee, even from our room. I headed downstairs to find the source.

"Good mornin' sleepy," said my wife. 

"Back atcha," I said. "Coffee smells good." She smiled and brought me my already poured cup. There are few things better than that first cup of java in the early morning.

"You taking the day off like you said?" she said.

"Yeah, after last night I need a day off. I guess us doing our fantasy last month has a small downside," I said. "I'm freakin' tired all of the time anymore, and I'm blaming you!" I was smiling like a possum.

She giggled. "Jimmy?" She had become tentative. I knitted my brow wondering what was suddenly so serious.

"What?" I said.

"Jimmy, our little experiment, you know last month—well—it was good right?" she said.

"Very," I said.

"Yes, it was for me too. Jimmy. You love me right?

"Of course," I said, now beginning to wonder in earnest what was on her mind.

"And you know I love you more than anything, right?" she said.




Betrayed



"Also of course," I said. "Marianne, what are you trying to say?" 

"Jimmy, I really liked it. I'd kinda like to do it again, at least..." she stopped in mid-message.

"What? You want us to have another go at it? Do it again with some other guy?" I said.

"Well..."

"Well, what?" I said. "I mean we can talk about it. I'm not against it totally. But, well, we did make a promise to ourselves not to do it more than the once. It was supposed to be a onetime deal."

"Yes, I know. But this time...Jim this time it would be me alone. You wouldn't..." I think I paled, then flushed.

"What!" I almost screamed. She quailed. "The answer is a flat no! Not a chance! You do that and it ends us. Got it!" 

"Jimmy..."

"Who did you plan to do it with, just for the record?" 

"Jimmy, please don't yell. It would only be for a short time. He's in town again, and..." 

"Marcus? Marcus Williams?" I was still blowing out the walls.

"Jimmy please! Please don't yell," she said. I was progressing from angry to insane with rage

"Pack your bags, Marianne, you no longer live here," I said, and I stormed out.

******

I drove around for literally hours. I didn't stop even to pee. Finally, there was no holding it back; I had to go; some things won't wait.

Spike's Bar and Grill had bathrooms; I used the men's. The place was busy even at noon: lunch crowd, I supposed, the food must have been good. There was a seat at the bar. I took it, ordered a straight shot of Cuervo Silver, and settled in. I was fuming and the Mexican elixir had always been there for me when I was, fuming that is. The barkeep dropped by periodically to see how I was doing. Around three o'clock he asked me for my keys; I gave them to him.

"I'll get you a cab, man, when you're ready," he said. I nodded without saying anything. I had no place I had to be, and I just wanted the traitorous bitch I'd married to be gone and away from me. Of course you knew that it wasn't going to be as easy as that.

Around 5:00PM I was delivered to my house. Things were kinda blurry, and kinda mellow; and those were the good things. I somehow managed to get my uncoordinated physicality into the house, challenge though it was.

"Jimmy! Where have you been? I have been worried sick!" said Marianne.

"Yeah right," I said, not quite sneering. "What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to get out. We're done."

"Jim, this is my house too. You can't just kick me out, and we need to talk; and, we're going to," she said. "And, we are by no means done." 

In my inebriated state it was hard to press my side of the issue. 

The, "...we have to talk," shit she'd laid on me turned out to be more of a, "she talked" kind of thing; there was virtually no input from me. I actually started to nod off a couple of times. She was having none of that though; I got periodically shaken pretty good to keep me on point whether I liked it or not. Some little time later; I had no idea exactly how long; she finally got to the bottom line.

"So okay, Jim, that's all I have to say. I get it. I won't ask anymore. You win. There will be no repeat with Marcus or anyone else. Satisfied?" she said. 

I heard her, and I think I tried to smile. "I feed to fleep. I tire," I said.

I stumbled up the stairs and made it to the bathroom, that just before an estimated seven Cuervos on the rocks brought about an intestinal revolution—or maybe it was a revulsion—that caused me to spend a deal of time worshipping at the porcelain altar.

Marianne stood just inside the door to the bathroom the whole time watching me retch my guts out. She said nothing. I think she was sympathetic to my plight, but this was one ordeal that she could do little to help me with. The dry heaves having finally subsided, I literally crawled back into the bedroom and onto the bed. Marianne helped me shuck my shoes and socks and pulled my pants down and off. I was out cold in a nano-minute. 

******

Things were kinda frosty for the next few weeks, but, overall, we were seemingly getting along without undue difficulty; but, then, now, the letter. Helluva a thing. I wasn't getting drunk and manipulated this time; I was gone; that since I didn't seem to be able to run her off. 

I packed, and spent the next couple of hours finding a place to flake out for the night. Tomorrow being Saturday I figured to look for a little better place than the La Quinta Lodge; I had the money—helluva deal. 

I had been just about to cross the parking lot from the lodge to get myself a drink at the little bar there when I looked at my watch. It was 9:00PM. The letter said that she'd said she'd be back by 10:00. 

I was parked a little ways down the street from the house when she pulled in; it was 10:05. I'd left the front porch light on, when I'd left, and now that worked for me. She got out of her car. She looked a bit disheveled. Well fucked too, I thought. I saw her hesitate before keying the lock to go inside; I wondered what was going through her mind. She went inside. She'd find my note soon enough.

I drove off. As I did I was thinking of our girls. Soon, I would have to tell them, tell them something. But what? That their mom and I had fantasies that had come back to bite us in the ass? That was the truth, and the truth didn't look too good. Maybe I could come up with a plausible lie. Fuck! For a smart guy, I sure wasn't thinkin' too smart—if at all.

******

She sat at the kitchen table, head in her hands, her cell phone on the table in front of her. She picked it up and punched in the numbers. Fifteen minutes later, a late model Caddy pulled up in front of the house. A large, well dressed, black man got out and went up to the house. He didn't bother to knock; he just went inside.

"So he's gone," said Marcus.

"Yes," she said. She handed him the paper with the large print note drawn in red marks-a-lot on the back of her letter to her husband. He took it, looked at it, and nodded his sympathy.

"I thought that maybe he'd—well—I don't know what I thought," he said. Her turn to nod. "Whaddya gonna do?"

She looked up at him. "I don't know. I think I may have lost him. Damn him!" she said.

"You've got me. I mean if you want," he said. She shook her head.

"I don't know, Marcus. Like I told Jimmy, with you and me it's just the sexual need not the emotional stuff that I have with him; well, had with him. I just don't know."

"Well, you know I'll be around when you finally decide," he said.

"I know, and I appreciate your willingness to help out," she said. "I just hope he's okay. I feel like shit if you wanna know. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt the guy. He's just so one way. I don't know, maybe it's me."

"No, it's him right enough. He married you, and he isn't into sharing; not in any real sense of the word. I can understand it; I don't agree with him of course, but I do understand where he's at," said Marcus. She gave him a frustrated look.

"What?" he said.

******

The same bartender was on at Spikes. He remembered me. Sign of a good barkeep, I thought to myself.

"Cuervo Silver?" he said. I looked at him. He was wearing a name tag this time. I didn't remember him wearing one before. It read Sam. A good name for a bartender, I thought.

"Yeah, sure," I said. 

I'm not sure how long I sat there, a few hours maybe. I looked up at the wall clock; it read 1:37. It was almost 2:00AM and closing time. I slid off the stool and somehow managed to get to my car and back to the La Quinta. The next thing I knew the sun was up and burning me awake. I'd left the blinds open, and now I paid for that little faux pas by having to get out of bed and close them.

The little bar and grill across the lot from the motel had the virtue of being open at 6:00AM. I took advantage of that little reality.

I'd just gotten my dry toast and soft boileds when a woman slid into the booth across from me. "Hey Jimbo, how's tricks?" she said. I looked at her for a full ten seconds before recognizing her.

"Dory! Is that really you?" I said. I hadn't seen Dory Simmons since high school. She was every boy's punchboard at the time, even mine. And, here she was sitting across from me smiling like she knew something I didn't.

"Yep, it's really me. I could ask the same of you, Jimmy. But no, I recognized you last night when you checked in across the street at the motel. I was just coming out of my room when you registered and headed for yours. You looked kinda down, so I figured to wait till morning, now, to come on to you." She giggled. 

"Yeah, well it really is me," I said. "And you look good, Dory. Come on to me?"

"Yeah, I remembered you from the old days in high school: Horny, dinky dick, pretty good oral. I'm in the market. Need a little tender loving?" She said, laughing. I frowned. "I'm just pushing your buttons, guy; lighten up for goodness sakes. Nothing's that bad." 

"Yeah, well, not everybody shares your opinion about the state of things," I said. "And, it might be a little while before I'm in the market."

"Uh-oh. Woman problems?" she said.

"Marriage cratered. Wife decided I wasn't enough for her. How's that for tellin' it like it is," I said.

"Really? I remember when, if I may," she said. "I mean, you weren't that bad. Not much of a cock, but you did real good oral, like I say. Some of your skills get a little rusty did they?" she said. I looked at her; I was not amused.

"Must've," I said. I wondered what she was doing staying at a cheap assed motel like the one across the street. I didn't ask.

"Wanna talk about it?" she said. For the life of me I did want to talk to someone. But Dory? Well, why the hell not. Two hours and several cups of Java later she knew the whole story.

"Wow," she said. "That is heavy. Jimmy, if you don't mind a little advice..."

"Shoot," I said. "Whatever you've got to say couldn't be less useful than what all I've been thinking." She leaned back in her seat and took on a serious look. In high school nobody would have accused Dory of ever being even remotely serious, a good piece of ass. But serious, not. But, it had been a long time, and people do change; that was sure as hell a fact.

"Jimmy, we've not seen each other in forever. Now, some unnamed god has decided to have our paths cross, go figure. Jimmy, I've been married four times. Twice I was dumped on and twice I did the dumping. I'm a complete failure economically. But, at the game of love—read sex—I'm a regular icon. I can tell you for sure I've learned a helluva lot; trust me on the one; I have learned one fucking helluva a lot in the love department," she said.

"Well, that makes you and me pretty much diametrical opposites, I guess," I said. "I'm a major success economically, but, unlike you, a complete failure at love, or sex if it comes to that." She smiled her understanding.

"Jimmy, from your story, I'm gonna go out on a limb and tell you straight up: you're doing it wrong. Go back to your woman. Give her her space, and learn to live with her little quirks," said Dory. I looked at her like she was some kind of alien.

"Are you fucking kidding, Dory? She's replaced me. I'm clearly not enough for her. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel," I said. "Oh, she wants to keep me around right enough. Her salesman boyfriend does not command the kind of scratch that I do. In the divorce she'll get alimony, probably, if I can't figure a way to get out of payin' it; but her lifestyle is going to take a major hit at the very least."

"Exactly," said Dory. "She knows very well, I'm sure, that she might get a serious ass kicking economically by doing what she's doing, and she's willin' to risk it all for this—salesman—as you say. It isn't the money she wants, Jimmy; it's the physical stuff and maybe the affection that she evidently feels she's not getting enough of—well—from you Jimmy. We women, Jimmy, do not think like you guys. We need to feel loved, protected, adored. You guys just want to be turned on all of the time. Once the new car smell goes out of a marriage, read sex life, it takes people who are real adults to get their act together and make the marriage work. 

"Jimmy, you need to suck it up and go back and prove to the woman you love that you do in fact love her," she said.

"Hah! Fat chance. Wimp out! Not me, I'm not a wimp, Dory. I will grant that I am an idiot—no argument—but a wimp? Not even," I said.

"Really? Whose idea was it to do the original sharing?" said Dory.

"Well, we both..." She raised an eyebrow; it stopped me cold.

"Not what you just got done telling me just a little bit ago," she said. "You are a wimp, Jimmy. A big, giant, huge assed wimp sure as you sit there. Only a wimp would be willing to watch while his wife was getting royally screwed by another man.

"Let me ask you, Jimmy, before Marianne met mister whatshisname, did you check to find out how big his cock was?" I eyed her. "Well, did you?" I looked down.

"Well, I did ask him to, you know, describe—well—himself," I said.

"And, is he bigger than you, Jimmy?" She was smiling; she knew the answer to her own question.

"What does that have to do with anything!" I said, beginning to lose it. She smiled.

"It has everything to do with it, Jimmy. You are one of those guys who gets off on being humiliated, and mister big-dick did just that to you, and your wife saw it. That's why at first she all but ignored you that night, Jimmy. I don't think she even realized what she was doing, I mean the ignoring, but that is what it was: she saw you for what you were. She still loves you, and yes a woman can love her wimpy little fellow, don't doubt it. But, the bottom line, Jimmy, is you are a wimp," she said. "Still...

"The good news for you is that it doesn't matter an iota. Being a wimp in the bedroom, if not in life in general, is neither bad nor good. It's just one of many realities, and sometimes it can even be a conscious choice. If it turns you on to be a wimpy cuckold, Jim, go for it. It hurts nobody. What can hurt, and that big time, is the price people pay for denying the truth about themselves. Accept what you are and enjoy it."

"You couldn't be more wrong, Dory, but thanks for the advice. See yuh around," I said. I got up, threw a twenty on the table, and left her sitting there, a half smile playing across her features. We'd meet again and, when we did, it would be a surprising situation.

******

The meet up with Dory had both bothered me and got me to thinking. Oh she was totally wrong about my being a wimp, but was she wrong about my wife thinking I was. That much of what she'd said made some sense to me. 

I had indeed become my wife's willing cuckold. But, it had just been a game, just the playing out of a mutual fantasy, a onetime deal. The problem was that Marianne had discovered that she enjoyed it too much to give it up. And not only that, she wanted me to be okay with it. She had to know I wouldn't be okay with it; unless, unless she did think me a wimp and was just trying to see if she could get me to accept my place as one. Could that be it?

Question: should I go back and try to see if my wife and I could find some middle ground? I didn't think so; that would be wimping out for sure. So, failing that, what next? What should I do? I was floating and the current was all crazy and without direction. My daughters! What was I going to do—tell them. That had to be my next move. There was nothing for it.

******

"Who was that on the phone?" said Melanie.

"Mom. She just laid a bomb on me—us," said Barbie.

"She and dad are having trouble, Mel, big trouble. We gotta go home and see what we can do if anything."

"What? What kind of trouble?" said Mel.

Barbie looked at her sister, "Mom has taken a lover. She's told dad about it, and, surprise surprise, he isn't happy. He's moved out. Mom hasn't seen him for days. She's called his work, but he won't take her calls.

"Mel, I think mom and dad are getting divorced. This is not good."

"No!" said Melanie. "Not mom and dad."

******

The twins sat across from their mother just staring at her. "Please, girls, one of you say something," said Marianne. She had just gotten done explaining herself, and her daughters had not been especially supportive.

"Mom, how could you! Why?" said Barbie, finally taking her cue. Her mother looked at her with a forlorn expression.

"Girls—I—I couldn't help it. Marcus, your dad, I had to make a choice. I made it and I'm not even sure it's the right choice. But, I've made it, and I am going to stick by it. If I get the chance to make things—somehow—right by your father, I will. But—girls—I have to do this for me. And yes, I admit it; I betrayed your dad, and I did it big time. I guess, I know he will never forgive me for what I did; but girls, I hope you will be able to forgive me. I just had to do it, girls," said Marianne. 

"You haven't answered my question, mom. Why did you do it? Melanie and I need to know," said Barbie. 

Marianne rose from her seat and walked across the room, faced the wall, turned, and returned to her daughters. "Girl's, I'm forty-five years old, same as your dad. I have never had an orgasm with him. Never! I was with Marcus Williams one time, and I had three. Have you got any idea how that rocked my world! I tried to tell your dad. I tried to have my cake and eat it too, but he wasn't going for it. I don't blame him. I completely understand his feelings, and how I hurt him. I'm a selfish skunk. But, that said, I can't help it. I need, I mean need, what Marcus can do for me," she said.

"But mom, dad could learn. Even as young as we are, Melanie and I know that a woman has to train her man," said Barbie.

"Yeah mom," said Melanie. "Teach that good man you're married to what's what. He's not stupid, mom, he could learn how to please you." Their mother looked at them, her face a veil of sadness.

Girls, when it comes to being a provider, when it comes to being a loving father, a gentle lover, an interesting and funny life's partner: your father has damn few equals," said Marianne.

"Then what's the problem, mom, that only leaves what we've been talking about here. This—thing—has to be fixable," said Marianne.

"Girls, what I'm going to say, you must never repeat to your dad. If he figures it out for himself, well that's one thing, but none of us must ever mention to him what I am about to tell you. Got it!" said Marianne. The twins nodded.

"Girls, if you took a Hebrew National frank and cut it in half you'd pretty much have a replica of your father's cock: slender, very short, good for peein'. I can hardly feel him when he's inside of me," said Marianne.

"And of course this Marcus fellow..." started Barbie, almost sneering.

"Eight very thick inches," said Marianne, interrupting her daughter, "and believe me I feel every bit of him and that every time. And, he's not just a big cock. He's a gentle and considerate lover too, just like your dad, and a darn good man in every way. He doesn't have your father's business skills, but he makes a good enough living, good enough for me. Money was never an issue for me anyway. If it matters, I will be asking for nothing in the divorce except the house. No alimony, no claim on your dad's retirement, nothing. I mean nothing except the house. And, even then, if your dad fights me on it, I wouldn't even insist on the house. I'd just be going for my freedom to marry Marcus." Suddenly, she turned and ran from the room.

The twins looked at each other. "Barb, we have to talk to daddy. I don't know what we can say, but I do know that he is going to need our support for a while, maybe a long while."

"Yes. Yes we do need to speak with him, and we need to do it today," said Barbie. 

******

I'd gotten both calls within five minutes of each other: my wife's first, and then the one from my daughters. I had misgivings about honoring either request. But, that said. I'd agreed to meet with Marianne before I even got the call from the twins, so I told my daughters that I would meet with them that night. It made more sense to do it that way anyway since I would then at least know more about where my wife was at. After all it was Marianne whose decisions were setting everyone else's agenda—especially mine—so it was almost a no brainer.




Betrayed



Spike's had gotten to be my regular hangout, so it was the decided upon, mostly by me, to be the rendezvous point. I was early and on my second Cuervo on the rocks when she arrived. She looked especially beautiful, at least to me. I wondered if she'd dressed like that to torture me; nothing would have surprised when it came to her now. Twenty fucking years down the toilet, and now alone and abandoned by the love of my life. Helluva note. 

She saw me and gave a little wave; I didn't respond. She came to my table and seated herself without so much as a by your leave; well, I had agreed to meet with her. 

"The girls called you?" she said without preamble.

"Yes, they called," I said. "Why are you here, Marianne? You made your choice, and unless you are about to change it, why are you here?" She seemed to deflate.

"Because we haven't talked, you and I, and we need to. I've met with the girls—and they..." she started.

"Let's leave the girls out of this, Marianne. This is you and me, and it's probably our last little time together; so let's focus on whatever it is that is left of us. Okay?" I said. She nodded.

"Okay, Jimmy. I understand. But, we will be seeing each other in the future even if you don't believe so now. I mean we have two beautiful daughters together. There will be holidays, graduations; well, you know," she said. I stared at her. I'd assumed that what she was saying would be part of what she was there for. But, she had no idea of the hurt and bitterness that had been building in me; I was about to inform her as to such.

"Marianne, I love you and need you. You, I believe, love me, but, you do not need me. You trading me in on another man has hurt me beyond telling. So, you will never see me again after this meeting. Not because I hate you, or even him; I just wouldn't be able to deal with the jealousy and hurt that seeing you would engender. Look at you now," I said. "You are stunning. I want you, and I know I can't have you. Do you have any idea how that sits with me? I doubt it," I said. She seemed to realize something; her face flushed.

"Jimmy, I'm sorry. I did not mean to come here and tease you. Honest to god. I feel like such a shit now. I am so sorry."

"Forget it. I'll deal with it while we talk here tonight, just not ever again," I said.

"Jimmy, find another woman. You need to have a woman to love you like I do," she said.

"You actually said that?" I said, looking, I am sure, as incredulous as it is possible to look.

"I do love you, Jimmy. I just need..." she didn't finish.

"Yeah, a bigger dick. I get it, Marianne. I'm not a complete idiot. I know what I got ain't much. But, it's what I got and that's the long and the short of it, no pun intended."

"Jimmy..."

"Yeah Jimmy. Nuthin' for good 'ole Jimmy. He can rot. Right, Marianne?" I said. Okay, I was whining. I felt like whining, so I was.

"Jimmy, stop that right now! I mean it. You are a wonderful man. And yes, okay, cock size is part of it; I won't try to deny it. That said, it doesn't mean that I can't love you for what you are, and that's plenty. Believe it," she said. I think I smirked, but if I did it was a sardonic smirk for damn sure.

"Yeah, anything's possible," I said. "But, again, why are you here?"

"I just thought—I mean—I just thought you and I could kinda—well—try to—I wanted to ask you to be, well, around for me. I know you're angry, and you have a right to be, Jim. I betrayed you. You didn't deserve that, and I will be a long time crying over that spilt milk, believe me. But, I do love you, Jimmy, and well I guess I'm here to beg your forgiveness. I know I won't be getting' it any time soon, but I have to beg anyway.

"And something else, Jim. I know this is going to sound really bad, but I have been thinking about it for some days now. I even talked it over with Marcus, and he's okay with it, with what I'm going to say. Jesus, how am I going to say this.

"Jim, any time you need—you know—something..."

"What? What are you trying to say, Marianne? Are you trying to say you'd spread for me? I mean if I asked you to?" I said. She looked at me with an expression that I could only describe as hopeful.

"Jim, there would be no shame in that, just some mutual satisfaction. I mean we've been married for a long time; it's not like it would be unnatural." I stared at her for a long moment.

"A little mercy fuck for good 'ole Jimmy. Is that it, Marianne? My cock's so small that no other woman will likely ever give me a tumble at my age. So you're willing to sacrifice yourself to let me take the edge off. Is that what you're offering me, Marianne?"

"Jim, I am not trying to insult you here, and I think you know that. But—that said—it is easier for a woman than for a man. If you need it, well, it's just an offer for some occasional fun, Jim. And, the offer has no expiration date. A mercy fuck? Well, so what, Jim. Call it whatever you want. The pussy would be real, and so would my interest in pleasing you. Okay?" she said.

"Yeah sure. You know, I can't believe how many different ways you've been able to think up to hurt me, but this one, this one surly gets first prize. If I never get a piece of ass again, you can't bet your last centavo that I will not ever be asking you for anything, most assuredly for anything sexual. Go it!" I said. "Have a nice fucking life." I stood up and headed out, my bitterness reaching a new high. And fuck, let her pay the tab.

"Jimmy! Please! Come back! I didn't mean..."

******

I was in a seriously bad mood when the girls arrived. But, as a man's little girls often do, they made me feel better almost immediately.

"Hi daddy," the two of them said in concert.

"Did mommy speak to you, dad? What did she say?" said Barbie. 

"Well, you obviously know that she and I talked. What did she say? She offered me a little mercy if you want to know. I wasn't haven't any," I said.

"Daddy, if you would just..." started Barbie, with Melanie nodding her agreement.

"No!" I said. "No compromise, if that's what you were about to suggest. She's either my wife, or she's not. No in between."

"Dad, Barbie and I understand, I guess, that there is no saving you and mom's marriage. God, and how sick at heart that makes us! Mom, blew it. We understand her reason, her excuse really, but we do not agree with it."

"What Melanie is trying to say dad is that even if—when—you and mom divorce we're still a family. That other man is not part of our family. But, there will be times, dad, when we will all be together. We..." I cut Barbie off with a wave of my hand.

"Barbie, Melanie, I never want to see your mother again, and certainly not with her lover. Not ever, do you get me. I couldn't bear seeing her with another man who I know will be sleeping with her instead of me. I couldn't bear seeing the most beautiful girl I ever knew acting sorry for me. I just can't. So, no, we will never be in the same place at the same time again. Earlier today was the last time I will ever see her, and that's that. 

"Girls, I still love the woman. I always will. I am more than bitter and jealous and lost—yes lost—knowing I will never see her again. But, that's the way it has to be. She's dead to me. Please don't ask me to get along with her, to deal with it. I can't! Period! Okay?" I said. The girls looked at each other, back to me, and nodded.

"Okay, dad. I guess we understand," said Barbie. "It's gonna be tough on us, but we'll honor your request. We'll figure something out, so you won't have to be around them." My turn to nod.

******

Time passed as it has a habit of doing, but that said, the pain some have to live with does not necessarily fade.

For the next three years I never heard word one from my ex; well, except for the divorce if that counts as hearing from her. Yes, my ex had finally divorced me about a year after our last meeting. The delay, I learned much later had been on account of the cost. At any rate she'd married her lover, good 'ole Marcus, immediately thereafter. She was now missus Williams. Oh, and she had kept her word about not asking for anything in the divorce. 

In the end I'd given her the house, I didn't want it. I was hauling down pretty big bucks at RBI, so I just bought myself a condo and made do. Also, the court had initially given her $5,000 a month alimony. I didn't fight that either; it gave me a feeling of satisfaction to know she still needed something from me. Reasons for my willingness not to screw her over financially? My love for her just wouldn't die. No matter what she did to me, I just couldn't hurt her—and yes, I know I could have. In the end, I just shrugged and got on with my life, or tried to. 

Again, it was less than a year after the divorce that she married the asshole. And again, I could have stopped the alimony with that happy happening, but, I let it go. I'd set it up so that my bank would send it to her every month. It just didn't matter to me, the money that is. 

And then there was papa bear—me. After the divorce, single again and forty-six years old, I'd started dating. My ego had taken a pretty good hit, but I'm no stupido, though some might wanna argue that particular point, I had to assume there was somebody out there, some woman, that could find it in herself to love me for me, love me for the total package including my miniature dick. Hey, I brought a lot to the table. My salary was in the mid six figure range, I looked pretty good for a man my age, in fact damn good. And miniature cock or not, I still made it my business to do the best I could for the woman I was with. What was not to love, right? 

The upshot? First dates and second dates I got, third dates not so much. And as far as getting lucky? Once in the first year after the divorce. In the second year, having become more than a little desperate, and tired of the games. I took my search for pussy to the next level: I began hiring escorts. They were always nice and the sex was always okay—it should have been at $300 a night. But of course, a true relationship was not happening with any of them. I had become what my ex had more or less predicted, a loser, at least when it came to women. 

But make no mistake, there were plenty of women who were willing to become missus Dalton, to sacrifice themselves for the good of the cause: the cause being a much improved standard of living. But, I wanted someone real, someone who actually liked me with the distinct possibility of falling in love with me; hence, I was picky; rightly or wrongly, I felt that I had to be. So, I was careful. I always had the women who seemed to be on the up-and-up checked out: one hundred percent of them failed the check up. 

The love of my life gone, and reduced to hiring friendly girls of the evening to keep me company—read to get my rocks off—my personal life sucked; life sucked. 

One genuine piece of ass in three years; and she'd been as drunk as I was or it probably wouldn't have happened. I wanted to cry. Then the inevitable happened. 

"Dad?" said Melanie. "You know, graduation is in two weeks. Barbie and I will be getting our B.A.s."

"Yes, baby, I know. I'll be there," I said. I hadn't seen Marianne in so long that I had momentarily forgotten that she would surely want to be there too even though it had been me who had footed the $200K to see our babies successfully negotiate the halls of academia.

"Dad, can mom come?" said Melanie. I could feel my face darken.

"Sure, but I won't, Melanie. I can't face her, even after all of this time. I just can't," I said.

"Dad, she promised not to bring him. He's staying home, away from us," said Barbie, finally chiming in. I had to smile at that. It must have pissed the asshole off to be shut out by his cuckold. But, could I face Marianne even so?

"He won't be there? That's iron clad?" I said. 

"Yes," squealed the girls anticipating my giving in.

I nodded. "Okay then," I said. The celebration of my capitulation was animated, but in the back of my mind I harbored misgivings. Even with the asshole out of the picture—seeing her again—how would I deal with it? Could I deal with it? I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure at all.

She was seated at one end of a five seat row, I at the other. I looked at her once or twice and found her not quite staring at me. I felt giddy, but I don't think I gave away my nervousness by anything my face said. 

Over the course of some hour and a half, the graduates made speeches, paraded across the dais to receive their sheepskins; then, came the cheering and the hugging and the mandatory screaming; and finally, the parents. 

The girls literally dragged me over to where she was waiting. She looked glamorous. God did she. Long tawny locks, specially curled for the occasion; white sundress sheathing her five-nine 120lb frame; her C-cups threatening indecent exposure; oh my, how good she did look. In spite of myself or the focus of the occasion, I was as hard as a rock. And well I might have been; I hadn't had a piece of ass in almost five months. It wasn't the money; it was my disgust with myself for being unable to find a woman who didn't require it before allowing me to do her. Those types were a nickel a busload, but someone who was turned on by my charm and potential bedroom skills did not seem to exist in the sentient universe. I almost asked her if she was still willing to grant me a little mercy. Humiliation or not; I needed it; I needed her. But I didn't ask her. No indeed. I maintained my self-respect, my shredded ego, and my overwhelming horniness as well.

We each congratulated the girls and hugged them and got the mandatory kisses from them as they squealed their happiness. I think that they were as happy, that Marianne and I were together in the same place, as they were about their academic achievements. But, soon they were making their apologies and running off to their parties and boyfriends—yeah they had them, I knew—and they, the boy friends, were twins too.

My ex and I were left standing there and to our own devices. I gave a small wave to Marianne and was turning to leave when she addressed me. "How are things with you, Jimmy? Well, I hope," she said.

"Okay, I guess. With you?" I said.

"Could be better actually," she said.

"Oh?"

"It's hard, Jimmy, never being able to even mention your name around the girls or to even enquire about you. And, then there is Marcus: a good man, who is allowed no slack by the girls because of your intransigence," she said.

I stared at her for a moment. "So, what do you want from me, Marianne," I said.

"It'd be nice if you'd lighten up little. Okay, I betrayed our love. I couldn't help it, but it was my doing, and I am so sorry for hurting you. I've told you, and I'll say it again: I really would like to make it up to you at least to some small degree, Jim. That, if only to make myself feel better, if not you. I've suffered enough, Jim, please grant me a little mercy—to use your words."

"I'll lighten up as far as the girls are concerned, Marianne. But, the other..." I couldn't finish what I wanted to say. She picked up on it; I could see it in her look.

"Jim?"

"I gotta go, Marianne. I gotta go." I just turned and walked off. I could feel her staring at my back as I made my way to the parking lot some distance away.

******

Another year passed; the fourth since my personal marital Armageddon. Days filled with work—long days by choice. The nights? Lonely and filled with her—thoughts of her—and Jose Cuervo. 

The girls had kept their promise. They never spoke of her to me when we visited. And, I supposed that they never spoke of me to her. I had to think that they knew I wasn't over her: they made my visits to them, and theirs to me, especially busy, or seemed to: their modus operandi to keep my mind on them. It worked to a certain extent.

One lonely night, an especially bad and lonely night, I made up my mind. I called up Dory. We'd kept in kind of loose contact since our meeting that one time in the bar. We met fairly often over coffee now, and the occasional drink and talked about everything that there was to talk about. Over time she let me in on her personal life; well, she'd pretty much heard all about mine, so why not.

Dory had been married four times. She had no children: she couldn't; her plumbing wasn't intact, hadn't been since birth. Regardless, she was pretty and men flocked around her sniffing like cur dogs looking for an easy piece. Two of her ex-hubbies had cheated on her with coworkers; she'd dumped them forthwith. Those first two marriages had netted her nothing except in the case of hubby number two, she had gotten the house; she still lived in it.

It had been Dory that had done the cheating in the cases of husbands three and four, and she wasn't especially apologetic about it. After the first two she'd made the conscious decision not to be the last to cheat. If her husbands were going to do it; she was going to do it first if only to save a little face. The problem with that was her last two hubbies had never cheated and evidently had not had any intention of doing so, so they—the husbands—had dumped her upon discovering her. Now she was, to paraphrase Coleridge, a sadder but wiser woman. Well, wiser at any rate: Dory seemed to be able to roll with the proverbial punch. I could only wish for a disposition anywhere near as equitable as hers.

Dory was, as she said, a sales person now. Her product: herself. She was a part time escort, not especially expensive, but fairly selective even at her age, which was my age. I'd bridled at her telling me that. She claimed it was the only thing she could do that paid anything, and she had been smart and saved. She was fairly well off now, and able to laugh at her past; something that I still was not able to do, and certain in my heart that I never would.

At any rate, I needed someone to talk to. I needed advice.

She let herself in. Yeah, she had a key. She was the only female that I could call a friend—and critic. Oh, and for the record, no I had never fucked her.

I was sitting in front of the fireplace. The winter cold was threatening to become winter white—real white.

"Hi stud," she said, as she plopped down into the chair opposite me. Her teasing was never appreciated, but, she, as she said, was training me to deal with women the right way; which as she also said, I didn't and wasn't.

"What happened to wimp?" I said.

"Oh, you're still a wimp, but one with hope at this point," she said, smiling. That began the most serious conversation that she and I had ever had.

"So you think I should, then," I said. 

"What have you got to lose, young man," she said. "Like she said, it's pussy. You need it; she has it, so use it. I have to think that she would really like to have you back if only part time. That Marcus guy, mister big dick, may be master in the bedroom, but he ain't got a whole lot else to offer if everything you say is so."

I nodded and was momentarily lost in thought. "But, what if..." Dory cut me off in mid-sentence.

"What if what," she said. "Maybe she's changed her mind. Maybe she doesn't have time for you after all. Maybe she'll laugh at you and send you on your way, or maybe her lover will put the boff on things. So what. You gonna feel all that much worse than you have these past few years, or for that matter than you do now? You need it, Jimmy, so risk it? 

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here big guy. The answer is no; you won't feel worse than you do now. Hey, if she or they show their true colors and treat you like shit; hell, you will at least finally know how it is with her and be able to unload her memory and get on with your life. At worst, the way I see it, you'll feel the same as you do now. And, the odds are, the way I see it, you'll feel a lot better. And, if it matters, likely so will she, feel better I mean." I nodded.




Betrayed



"Okay, Dory. I guess you're right. I hope your right. I sure need you to be right," I said.

"I am," she said. "I am absolutely right. I've seen too much of this stuff not to know what's going on when I see it. Fuck, I shoulda been a psychologist." I laughed.

"Yeah, you'd have made a good one," I said. "I'll make the call."

******

I was afraid I'd chicken out if I waited. I made the call while Dory sat across from me sipping her drink. I wasn't sure, but I thought she was smirking.

The phone rang several times. A man answered. I hung up—fast. I paced frenetically back and forth in front of the phone. "Shit!" I said.

"What?" said Dory, now with an unabashed amused look on her face.

"He answered," I said. "The mother fucker answered." Dory raised an eyebrow.

"Jimmy, he's her husband. He lives there. Of course there was a chance that he would answer the phone. According to you, she said he was okay with her fucking you once in a while. So, so what. Call her back, Jimmy, and ask for her if he answers. Just do it. Give them, her, the chance to do what she promised, or, to shine you on and give themselves up for what they really are," said Dory.

I was saved the embarrassment of having to call her twice. My phone rang less than two minutes after I'd hung up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Jimmy? Is that you?" said the female voice on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, it's me, Marianne," I said. My voice had to be betraying my discomfort and likely my need.

"Did you call a few minutes ago, Jim. The caller ID was not one I recognized, but I thought..."

"Yes, it was me, I hung up because..." I said.

"You hung up because, Marcus answered," she said. I didn't answer for a long moment. She waited me out.

"Yes," I said.

"Jim, it's okay, you can call me anytime you want," she said. "Jim, is there something—you know—something I can do for you?" 

"Marianne—I'll—I'll take the mercy fuck you offered me," I said. "I mean if the offer is still good." I could almost sense her smiling even over the phone.

"Good," she said, "I meant it when I said that there was no expiration date to my offer. 

"Jimmy, I really was hoping that at some point you'd let me—well—you know. When would be good for you, Jim. I'm open. I don't work, so I'm open to any time you want, Jimmy." I swallowed hard.

"Uh—Marianne—would tonight. I mean..."

"You mean now, Jimmy? Well of course you mean now. What am I thinking; a man always means now when it comes to... 

"Now would be fine, no problem. Uh—could you come here to do it, Jim. Marcus has the car, and he's gone out tonight." she said. I was immediately faced with a dilemma. Would he be around, I mean after she and I were in the middle of stuff? 

"Uh—would your husband be coming..." I said.

"No, Jim, he's gone for the evening. We will be alone no problem. But, even if he does come home. He knows that you and I might at some point be getting it on. He's fine with it. 

"We have kind of an open marriage, Jim. He's out with another woman even as we speak. So, you and I should be fine," she said. I held the phone away from me. He was out cheating on her! No, not cheating, but definitely spreading his pollen on the wind. What the hell kind of marriage had my ex gotten herself into.

"Okay, Marianne, I'll be there in half an hour," I said. I was nervous and it showed. Dory was grinning wide now.

"So, she's going to keep her promise, well, this one at any rate," she said. I nodded.

"Dory, I haven't been this nervous since my first time. I mean it. I'm scared to death. What if I get there and can't get it up! Jesus! I would never be able to live it down. Maybe this was a bad idea," I said.

"Jimmy," she was suddenly serious. "Be cool. Calm down. You have nothing to worry about. Women know how to get a man to loosen up and get it done. You just have to let the lady do the leading this time around. I know it's been hard for you; and, I am pretty sure she knows too. But at least you know her. You have that going for you," she said. At some point I had to do something for this wonderful girl. 

"Okay," I said. I was shaking, but I knew this was it; I was going to do it. I was going to let my ex-wife, the woman who betrayed me for a bigger dick, help me salvage something, and the odd part, I didn't even know what the something was—maybe my sanity.

"Dory?" I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"Would you stay here tonight. When I get home; well—"

She looked at me funny. "Okay, I can do that," she said. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Good," I said. "Really, really good!"

******

I stood in front of the door. The door that used to be mine. It used to be mine, was for some sixteen years of my marriage to Marianne; but this night it was a stranger's house. I hadn't been back in the neighborhood since the divorce, hadn't wanted to. But now—here I was. I knocked.

The door opened. She was beautiful, beautiful beyond words. Oh how I still loved this woman. I loved her still, and here I was essentially begging her let me have her, at least a little bit of her, something I'd turned down those four years ago. I wanted to kill Marcus Williams. Yes, I know, she was as guilty as him. And me? Yes, I was guilty too; it'd been my idiot idea that had brought about the destruction of my marriage to this woman.

"Please come in, Jim," she said. If I'd had to describe it, her tone was kindly. I nodded and entered.

She was dressed in a sheer, white day dress and heels. The dress came to just above her knees. No jewelry, makeup perfect: lips so red they started a fire in my loins. The smell of her! God she was something. Worries about me being able to get it up disappeared like burst soap bubbles. "Place looks nice," I said, trying not to appear too desperate. She smiled.

"Thank you, Jimmy. A lot of the credit for that goes to you whether you know it or not."

"Me?" I had no clue what she was talking about. 

"The money you send each month. It has been a big help, Jim. You are such a wonderful man. I curse the day ever I hurt you. You deserve better than me, Jim, a lot better." I just tendered her, what I was sure, was a sheepish smile.

"Anyway, between what Marcus makes and what you send, we do okay. I just want you to know that it is appreciated; I know you don't have to be doing it. So, it is appreciated, believe me."

"Thanks, but forget it. It's just something I want to do," I said. She looked down. It was the moment of truth. Neither of us knew exactly what to do. The moment stretched into a long moment. She took me by the hand and led me into the den. Two martinis, already poured, and an iced shaker of refills were on the table. She picked one up and handed it to me. I was grateful; I needed a drink; I needed it bad. Picking up hers, she held it in front of her. 

"A toast," she said, "to this night. One I have waited so long for." I knew what she said was the truth; it was not an act. This might be a mercy fuck I was getting, but she wasn't seeing it that way, not at all; she wanted me. Then everything came crashing down.

The front door slammed. And a falling down drunk Marcus Williams came stumbling in on us. He looked amused. We, for our parts, still holding our martinis after having touched glasses and taken our first sip, just stared.

"So you really are going to give dinky dick some relief," he managed to say kinda slow. "Well, I did give you my permission. Just use the guest room, okay. I'm not feeling too good, and I need to get my rest.

He started to stumble away, turned, looked at the stunned duo in front of him, us, and said something that I will never forget as long as I live.

"Tell me, Jimmy boy, is it true that you haven't had but one free piece of ass in all of the time since I came into the picture? I can imagine you really need what you're going to get tonight." Not waiting for an answer, probably already forgetting what he'd even said, he turned and headed upstairs presumably to go to bed. I felt frozen in time. How could he possibly have known what he obviously knew? There could be only one way; I'd be talking to Dory.

"Jim, I am so sorry. He wasn't supposed to be here. We—he and I—had an agreement. He could go out and have some fun, and you and I..." She was talking fast; I interrupted her.

"Uh—Marianne. I have to go. It just—I have to go. I'm sorry too," I said. I put my drink down, turned and walked out. I walked as in a trance. I could hear her in her heels clacking on the hardwood floor as she came after me. She caught me at the door. 

"Jim, let's go to your place!" she said quickly. I stopped and looked at her. I felt like I was going to cry. 

"No, no. I'm afraid I'm—well—not in the mood anymore, Marianne. I really need to go. To be alone. I need to be alone. I'm okay, just—don't call me, really." With that I was gone.

On the way home I did cry—big time. If I'd hated what Marcus Williams did to me before, now I hated the man himself. Yet, that said, I wasn't so myopic that I didn't re-realize my own part in the destruction of my love life and, if the truth were to be known, my psyche. They say that there is always one good thing to look forward to when one hits rock bottom. I figured I was due; I sure as hell was at rock bottom.

******

Marianne:

I stared at the door he didn't quite slam as he left me standing there. I was furious, not at Jimmy. No, he, as usual was guiltless in all of this. I know he blamed himself for the fantasy thing that led to everything else, but after that it was all me, me and the asshole upstairs. 

Mister Marcus Williams had a very thick eight-inch cock, and it was a thrill a minute riding it, but except for that he had of late become the very definition of an asshole. He hadn't been at first, but he had become one in recent times, and I was on the verge of dumping his open-marriage ass.

He and I had agreed to an open marriage soon after we'd tied the knot. And, to be honest, I had at first played almost as much as he had. But, that's all it was for me, playing. There was never the slightest emotional attachment to any of those men, and I knew, or thought I knew, that such was the case with Marcus as well.

Here I was, forty-nine years old, and no one to love; well, except for the twins of course. And—Jimmy. But, I'd lost Jimmy. I knew for sure he hated me now. He'd hate Marcus more, I was sure, but I was going to definitely be collateral damage in that regard, and that beyond a shadow of a doubt! After I got done crying my eyes out, I was going to go upstairs and tell the asshole that he and I were quits. 

******

"Whaddya mean we're quits. You love me, I know you do. That wimp should never have been here in the first place. Yeah, I know you felt sorry for him, but he's the past; we're the here and now. Get real, Marianne, deal with it. I did him a favor tonight," said Marcus. He wasn't quite slurring his words.

"Go to hell, Marcus, What you did to that good man tonight was way over the top. For the record I blame myself too. I sold out my love for a bigger dick four years ago; I just hadn't realized until tonight that I'd gotten a dickhead in bargain too. So, get the fuck off of that bed and go. The next time I see you will be divorce court."

"What? Leave? Now? We're married. I live here. I have rights," he said.

"You're going, and I don't care where you go. I just don't want to see you again. To paraphrase you: get real, Marcus, and deal with it. And, in case you really don't get it, this is not your house; it's mine. I got it in the divorce. You have no claim on anything here but your clothes and personal stuff. Pack 'em and get out."

I watched as he packed his things. He was muttering the whole time. Something about pussy being easy to find and that I was replaceable; well, so the fuck was he.

******

I wasted no time looking for Dory when I got home. She had to have been the one to be talking to Marcus. And why would she do that. She was my friend, or so I thought. I wanted answers, and I was not going to wait till morning.

I heard her in the kitchen. "Hi," I said. I'd startled her. She turned around looking big-eyed and surprised. 

"Jimmy! I thought—it didn't go well did it," she said.

"No. No it didn't. Her hubby came home and pretty much destroyed me, at least in terms of my being able to do anything remotely romantic," I said.

"What did he do?" she said.

"Belittled me and asked me if it was true that I had only had one free piece of ass in the past four years," I said. "Kinda put the boff on my gettin' it up with Marianne, if you know what I mean." I sank into a chair at the kitchen table.

"He said that?" said Dory.

"Yeah, he did," I said.

"Why would he ask a question like that?"

"Don't know. You and I were the only ones who knew that that was true," I said. "So, I don't know how he ever would have found out." I saw her face pale.

"Jimmy—I—I was watching out for you. I met with the man, some weeks ago, told him he better not mess with you, or he'd have me to deal with," she said. I know my look must have alarmed her.

"You know him!" I said, a little louder than I should have.

"Jim, please don't be angry with me. I was just trying to make sure he stayed out the way of you and Marianne in case you did manage to get together. You'd been talkin' like you were kinda thinkin' about it; and I was afraid the asshole would fuck it up. Well, I was right about that, I guess. 

"Jim, Marcus—well Marcus and I—he was my second husband, Jim. He's a complete asshole. I knew that if you and Marianne got together even with his permission, as you said, he would likely do something to ruin it. 

"Now, you fucking tell me that!" I said.

"I know, I know. But, I felt that you didn't need the distraction, and I sure as hell didn't need the painful questions. Jim, Marcus can be, and usually is, smooth and easy going when you first meet him, but anyone who knows him well will tell you he's a regular sonovabitch when it comes to other people's feelings," she said.

"And you told him what I told you in confidence. Is that it Dory?" I said.

"Sort of. I told him you hadn't had any but the one time after Marianne and he got together, and he better not get in the way. I reminded him that I knew where his skeletons are buried, and that I would have no problem leading certain people to them if he caused any trouble. Which, if it is any consolation, I am certainly going to do. Mister Williams has just stepped into a neck deep pile of horse pucky."

"Jesus!"

"I was trying to help, Jim. I really was. I guess that this time my mouth outran my brain.

"Can I ask, how did Marianne react?" she said.

"I'm not sure how to explain it. She said she was sorry for the thing. She said she wanted to bring the games here. But, I'd kinda lost interest by then, if you get my drift," I said.

"She didn't take his side, try to cover for him? Anything like that?" said Dory.

"No. I guess not," I said. Dory's smile was almost cathartic—for me.

"Call her. Call her now. Tell her to come over. Go get her if she doesn't have a car. I mean it. This is the moment, Jim. Seize it. What did that old philosopher say a million years ago: 'Seize the moment'?"

"The day," I said, still sounding down in the dumps.

"Huh?" she said.

"The day, 'Carpe Diem,' is what he said, 'Seize the day,' his name was Horace, an ancient Roman." She looked at me strangely.

"Oh, okay.

"Regardless, call her, call her now, while I am here watching to make sure you do it," she said.

"But—I don't know..." I stalled.

"Jimmeeee!" she said, not letting up on the pressure.

"Okay, okay." I picked up the receiver and dialed. I was more than a little afraid, I mean really afraid. 

******

"Hello?" she said.

"It's me. Can you come here?" I said. There was momentary silence on her end. I spoke first.

"Oh, okay. Sorry. I know it has to be tough for you with him. Forget I asked. I'll be fine," I said. I started to hang up.

"Jimmy, no! I can't talk. Jimmy he's threatened me. I can't come," she said.

"I'm coming over," I said, and I did hang up. She'd sounded frightened. I was worried.

Dory had heard every word. "He's hurt her?" she said.

"Maybe. She said he was angry and not letting her out of the house. I'm heading over there. I'll be kicking some black ass if he's hurt her, depend on it," I said. Dory looked at me but said nothing. I was already grabbing my Coat and didn't see her grab the phone.

******

I tried the front door and it opened. As far as I knew, the man hadn't actually hit her, so I wasn't prepared for what first greeted my eyes. She was a mess; her face was a black and blue and a bloodstained mess. He had his back to me at first, but his head snapped around as soon as he heard me slam the door; I'd done that to get his attention away from the cowering form of my ex-wife.

"Well, if it isn't peewee—dick I mean. Obviously you're a big strong heman in other respects," he laughed.

I didn't hesitate, I rushed him and my right fist connected with his neck. Yeah, I missed his jaw: well, I was excited. He countered with several right-left combinations. I stumbled back over the couch, and fell in a heap behind it. I was able to get up, and I went after him again, just not a quickly as before. I delivered a right haymaker that killed the air around him. He on the other hand began my systematic destruction.

Almost, but not quite out of it, I lay on the floor gasping for breath and fighting to remain conscious. I had to get her out of there and to safety. I had to. There was some commotion—very loud commotion. The next thing I knew I was staring at the forest green walls of a room I didn't recognize.

"Nurse!" someone called. That explained the room. Fuck! The guy had won. I had to find out about her. I tried to get out of the bed, but fell back. I soon found myself restrained by the delicate hands of a too young nurse.

"Please sir, please, lay back. Try to be calm. The doctor will be here in a moment," said the teenie bopper.

"My wi...!" I said. "I mean Marianne Williams."

"Not for long," said a familiar voice.

"Marianne! Are you okay," I said, my eyes flooding with happiness. "You're okay, right?"

"Yes, my hero; I'm fine. I'm really fine, and I owe it all to you my hero," she said. I lay back then. I was satisfied. Somehow, I didn't know exactly how but somehow, I must have rallied and nailed the bastard. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would ask the questions or whatever. For the moment I needed to sleep. Oh yes, sleep was the thing.

******

The nursing corps was taking very good care of me. I got smiles from all of them, and there must have been ten of them which worried me. That much help had to mean I was worse off than I at first thought.

"How are you sailor?" said Marianne, as she approached my bed. She was followed by Barbie and Melanie and two giants.

"Okay," I said. "How are you, ex-wife?" I said trying to smile. She gave me a look I could not decipher.

"I'm fine, Jimmy. I'm fine because of you. You stopped him. I was afraid Jimmy, and suddenly you were there. You were there to save me. Jimmy, I am so ashamed of the way I have behaved in the past. 

"The doctors say you're going to be fine. Thank God, Melanie and Barbie arrived at just the right time to keep him from beating on you," she said.

"Mel, Mel and Barbie? They stopped him from..."

"Well, not exactly them; it was their fiancées: Dexter and Henry." She motioned toward the two giants.

"Yeah, dad, said Melanie. Dex and Hank took mister Williams apart in sections," she squealed her pride in the two behind her.

"I'd noticed that they were big guys, And I realized that they were also twins. Measuring them with my eyes. I estimated them to be about six-five and three hundred—each! It must have been a real surprise for mister Williams to see the two of them.




Betrayed



"Yeah dad, they play for State; they're offensive linemen. Real god ones, dad," said Barbie.

"I guess I owe you guys. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming in in the second quarter like that and bailing me out," I said

"That's okay, mister Dalton. We hate guys like him. Woman beaters ain't got no hope around us," said one of the twins. I smiled my approval.

I saw a movement near the door. "Dory!" I said. Suddenly, it all came together. Dory had to have called the girls. They'd then called their boyfriends or maybe they were with them at the time. "You had a hand in this didn't you?" She shrugged.

******

I was under medical observation for three days. Marianne was the one who showed up to take me home—and she was alone. 

"Where's everybody else?" I said.

"Home, I suppose," she said. I gave her a look.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Marianne?" I said. 

"Well—no. Not exactly. It's just that, well, we never did have our little date. I kinda thought that maybe, well—maybe..." she was acting real strange, but I wasn't such a numbskull that I didn't get what she was hinting at."

"Fuckin'-A," I said. "Don't break any laws, but get us there in the least possible time lapse. Okay?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I have never wanted to be fucked by any man so badly as I wanna be fucked by you today; and you can take that to the bank, mister."

******

We lay clutching each over, seemingly almost glued together. The crack of dawn cracked, and I stretched and looked over at my sleeping ex. Even with her face still showing the bruising that the asshole had done to her, she was beautiful. She was the only woman for me. The best news was my rocks were pretty well drained. 

We'd gone four times the night before and only quit because I wasn't able to get it up for number five. But the woody I was sporting at the moment was a clear indication that I was by no means unable now. But—oddly—I was nervous about asking her again. My insecurities. Sure she'd let me have her, and enthusiastically. But why? Because I was her hero? I didn't want to be her hero; I wanted to be her lover. And, I was convinced I never could be, not for the long haul. While my near suicide in trying to ward of mister Williams was fresh, sure; her gratitude was boundless. I was her hero. But what about a year from now? Would my sacrifice, my try, to protect her still mean as much? Did it matter?

Her eyes fluttered open. I tried to read her undefended thoughts. "Hi," she said. "Was—you know—was it good for you?" I nodded.

"I needed it," I said, trying to smile and not look phony doing it. She wrinkled her brow.

"Jimmy? Are we okay?"

"Sure. Sure we are. It was great last night," I said. She looked at me and her eyes kinda narrowed.

"We need to get a few things straightened out. Don't we," she said.

"No, we're fine?' I said. "No more talk."

"Jim, I can sense it, something, in your look and tone. We need to get some things straightened out, made clear. I want you, Jimmy; and I want you to want me. I need you to want me," she said. "You're worried that I might, you know, might not stay with you. Or, that I might cheat on you even if I did. Because of, well because of the same reason as last time." I didn't say anything. She'd hit the nail on the head. She knew what I was thinking and there was no way that I could deny it, not credibly.

"Marianne, I will always be there for you. I love you so much and nothing on earth will ever change that. But—knowing how much you need, well, what you need; and knowing that I can't supply it; well, it's always going to be the insoluble problem, the impossible dream," I said.

"Jimmy, it might have been the impossible dream before. Heck, I guess it was. But that was then and this is now.

"Last night I concentrated on what I was getting from you. Not on the size of your thingy, but on what you were doing. I realized that I had never done that before. And, something else I realized. Marcus, even with his oversized tool, never really made me feel safe and loved. Excited sometimes, satisfied all of the time—sexually—but never safe or loved. Do you have any idea how important those two things are to a woman? Trust me, they are right at the top of the list," she said.

"There are two things you can take to the bank, James Dalton. Two absolutes. One: Late at night, there will be times, that I will very likely be thinking about big cocks and how wonderful they feel. Can't escape that truth, Jimmy, try as I might; I can't. Two: I will never ever cheat on you, Jimmy—never ever. You've got me as you should have had all along. And I am going to do my best, my very best to prove to you that you are more than enough man for me or for any woman. I mean it, Jim," she said. I nodded my understanding.

"I know you do, Marianne. And, I know, or at least I think I know, that you will never cheat on me. But, I have a problem," I said.

"Huh? A problem? What problem?" said Marianne.

"I want you to be totally happy. I do not want you to have to dream about big cocks and have to know that you can never have one again. Also, I want to be happy. I need to be happy too. I need to know that your pussy, and only your pussy, will be available to me for the rest of my life; or, at least as long as I can still get it up." I was smiling and she followed suit. 

"But, Marianne, I don't have a big cock; I have an embarrassingly little one. One that can never satisfy you—never. Talk about catch-22's. I need your pussy, but I can never satisfy you or it. Put another way, you simply must have big cocks to be completely happy, and again, there is no way I will ever have one.

"So, I have made a decision. Marianne, I will be your wimpy cuckold husband. You can have the occasional big dick to satisfy you, which will take the pressure off me worrying about when you might leave me again for a man who has one. I..."

"Jimmy, I swear to you, you are enough..." she started.

"No. Don't swear. Just let me do the leading this time. It has to be me. You're not very good at it," I said. I was serious now, and she looked—what—stunned.

"Jimmy?"

"Are we good?" I said.

"I guess so," she said. "But..."

"But nothing, no buts. And, don't get your panties all in a wad, woman, we won't be doing it much; but, when we do, it will be memorable. Like it should have been all along."

******

"His name's Michael," I said. "It's for tomorrow night. We won't be starting out slow, Marianne. It's gonna be the whole enchilada from the git-go," I said. "Everything, just like we've planned."

"Jimmy, I'm excited, but a little scared too," said Marianne. "Are you sure about this, about him?"

"As sure as I can be. If he turns out to be flaky, we'll send him on his way and look for someone until we find a guy who fills the bill. Okay?" I said. She just nodded.

******

The new doorbell, one we'd recently installed, announced our visitor. 

Marianne looked gorgeous. Tall, slim, hair billowing around her face and shoulders, dark sheath dress augmented by five-inch spikes. Her makeup was salon perfect, and I knew from very personal knowledge that her pussy was waxed bare. God this woman was hot.

I opened the door and allowed the visitor in. "God evening, Michael," I said.

"Good evening, Mr. Dalton," said the young man. And young was the operative term: he was twenty-three. He was also tall, blond, blue-eyed, and built like a Phidian god. In his pants he carried something that would make Marcus Williams act respectful.

"This is the beauty you told me about," he said. I nodded. "You sure didn't exaggerate. 

"Good evening ma'am," he said.

"Good evening to you, Michael. And thank you for your kind words," said Marianne.

"How about a drink first?" I said. I got affirmative nods for my suggestion from both parties. I served the drinks and when I got the signal from Marianne that she was okay with the man, I assumed my role, the one we'd agreed to and with the limits we'd established.

We'll take our drinks out to the patio, cucky," she said, "then you need to adjourn to the bedroom until called upon." 

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

They turned and headed out, me following with their drinks.

Michael smiled but did not smirk. He did slide his arms round her waist and kissed her lightly on her cheek as they walked. The words between them were in whispers. 

Placing the drinks on the little table beside them, I made to leave and head for the bedroom as I had been instructed, but hesitated a moment and watched them. I guess I was staring.

I noticed his hands roaming a little but very lightly over her breasts and belly. 

She looked over at me. "You have to leave now," she said. "We, Michael and I, need some private time." I looked down. This was going to be the hard part for me. Well, until she would call for me later on that is.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I headed for the house and the bedroom where she had told me I needed to station myself.

******

Marianne:

I worried—big time! We were doing it, testing the waters. I was very aware that sending my husband upstairs, as I had, to await his fate was risky. But, I counted it a greater risk to have him close up and personal for the opening gambits. Oh, I knew he'd be watching us from the upstairs window, but that is quite a bit removed from him being close enough to hear us, feel us, smell us. I was shaken from my reverie by Michael.

"Can we find a place a little more private to, you know?" he said.

"Of course," I said. I let him help me up from the two-person chaise longue. We headed inside for the downstairs guest room. Into the house, I let him pass me for a moment, as I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up toward the master bedroom, where I knew my husband was even then squirming in the cock cage I'd locked him into three days before. I needed him to be ultra horny, so he'd agreed to allow me to lock him up. He'd been virtually climbing the walls ever since; that was my edge.

This night was planned to be an all out night of sex and cuckolding and—yes—humiliation for Jimmy. He was my wimp, my willing wimp, for these hours, this night; but afterwards...I'd be rewarding him like he'd never been rewarded! I'd sworn to myself to make sure that happened. 

But for now, I had to be careful, very careful. Cuckolds like my Jimmy were volatile, fragile. I was determined to bring him along slowly this time and any future time, if it came to that, and this and those with affection and love and consideration for his delicate feelings. No more risking what happened before, no more of that ever! I needed and wanted my husband for the things he could do, his insecurities notwithstanding. He was twice the man Marcus had ever been, and my current big cock, Michael; well, he wasn't even a grown man yet. He was a handsome boy though. He'd do for the evening, and that would be it for him.

I noticed Michael waiting for me at the end of the hall. He looked impatient. Good, I wanted him to be wanting me, to do a little squirming of his own while waiting. He was anxious to stick his cock into me. Well, I was anxious to feel it too, and that you could take to the bank

I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the hall mirror before joining him. I heard him snicker at that.

He was already lying on the bed legs crossed when I entered just a few seconds behind him. I smiled and posed for him.

"Make my screwing memorable," I said.

"Depend on it," he said.

******

Epilog:

Marianne and I are still walking softly when it comes to our mutual interest in cuckolding and in sex generally. We are determined to do it right this time around. 

Marcus was sentenced to a year for the savage beating he'd inflicted on Marianne. He was out in seven months. We never heard from him again. I had to imagine that that was because of the indelible impression that Dexter and Henry had left him with.

As mentioned before, Michael was to have been a one shot bull, but that changed after that night. He was invited back several times over the next year; but, that ended when he enlisted. He's now God knows where, and we are searching for a replacement. But, we're not in a hurry. Once a month or so we go out looking. So far nada, but we'll find a replacement sooner or later. We're just not rushing it.

We communicate a lot and in depth. It is working for us. Sex between us is good, very good. We plan to keep it that way. 

Oh, and the girls are happy—and relieved. They are planning on a double wedding in the near future. That should be interesting as heck—and expensive. Oh well, they're our babies.



Betrayed



The party was going to be low key. My wife, Dianne, only wanted something small to celebrate her fortieth birthday. Knowing she wasn't happy about turning forty, I reluctantly agreed. 

A few months back, when she announced she wanted to join a gym I backed her up even though I assumed it wouldn't last. I'd been wrong. For the first month she had been keen and then she started finding reasons not to go. Somehow she made friends with a real gym-junkie called Gemma. Gemma's enthusiasm rubbed off and Dianne started going regularly and I soon noticed a change. She lost the few pounds she'd been wanting to. Her stomach flattened and her whole body became more toned. In short, she was looking hot by the time her party came around. 

She'd warned me about Gemma but I think my jaw still dropped when the black gym-goddess stepped into our house. Gemma was Jamaican with skin as black as anyone I'd even seen. Her miniscule skirt showed her fantastic legs, which were impossibly long. The nearly non-existent blouse allowed a great view of her breasts which were surprisingly large for a gym-junkie. As we were introduced, she gave me a beaming smile that caused a stirring in my pants. God was she hot!

The room had gone quiet as she entered but slowly the party went back to full swing though I doubt many men's, and some women's eyes ever left her. Mine certainly didn't. Gemma seemed oblivious to the attention she created and moved around the room chatting freely with people she'd never met before and may never meet again.

The other guests were mainly family with a scattering of friends so the mood was light and comfortable. There wasn't any set program other than for the cutting of the cake. We'd all had a few drinks by the time it was ready to come out. I looked around but couldn't see Dianne anywhere. I checked the bathrooms and our bedroom without luck. It was a warm night so I slipped into the rear yard. Why she'd be out here I had no idea but there was nowhere else to look I knew we were making a bit of noise, so not to annoy the neighbours any further, I didn't call out.

Stepping around the corner of the house and found her. Dianne and Gemma were locked in an embrace. My first instinct was anger. The bitch was cheating on me! In a flash I remembered how keen she'd been lately to get to the gym. This was why. 

I was ready to say something when I realised Gemma was looking at me. She and Dianne were kissing but her eyes were locked onto mine. That was when I realise how hard my dick was. Instead of calling out, I continued to watch. The bitches were really getting into it. I'd watched more and a couple of pornos but I'd never seen anything as sexy as this. There was always something fake about the sex in a porno. This was real. Not five feet from me, my wife and another woman were kissing. And Gemma wasn't just another woman. She was the sexiest woman I'd ever seen and her hot tongue was halfway down my wife's throat.

My dick was so hard it hurt and I longed to take it out and jerk off. Even better would have been to fuck Dianne while she kissed Gemma but I didn't want to break the mood. Gemma knew I was watching but she'd done nothing to alert Dianne. As far as my wife was concerned, they were still alone.

Gemma gave me a wink as she unbuttoned her blouse. There wasn't much to it so I already had a pretty good idea what her tits looked like but I wasn't ready for how hot her nipples would be. Jutting out from her firm breasts they were swollen with lust and a black as nigh. Taking Dianne's face in her hands, she gently pulled my wife's mouth down to one of them. I heard the wet sucking sounds Dianne made as she worked on first one then both nipples in turn. 

Gemma threw her head back, causing her many slender braids to sway back and forth. With her eyes sill locked onto mine, she cried out, "That's it bitch, you begged for them, now worship my nipples!"

Dianne broke off only long enough to gaze up into Gemma's gorgeous face. "You know I'd do anything for you!"

Gemma was smiling at me as she said, "It's time for your birthday present, bitch." She ran a hand down Dianne's body and pushed it up under her dress. Dianne was back sucking on Gemma's nipples but I heard her moan as the hand stroked her pussy. "Take your panties down for me, bitch!"

Instantly, Dianne's hands shot under her dress and her panties were soon around her ankles. I watched as she pushed her legs as far apart as her panties would allow. When her back arched, I guessed Gemma had worked a finger into her pussy. Dianne's hips were grinding now and I knew she was really enjoying being fingered by this black goddess.

"Hold up your dress."

Gemma didn't explain why and Dianne certainly didn't ask but when she hoist her dress high around her waist, I had a perfect view of her grinding ass and that black hand between her pale, white legs.

Unfortunately, it finished all too quickly. Dianne was so hot, she started a knees shaking orgasm after only a minute or so of fingering. The bitch had never cum that quickly for me. Gemma gave a nod to say it was time to go. I ducked back into the house and waited for thirty seconds or so. Opening the rear door with a bang, I called out, "Dianne, are you there?"

I heard giggling before she called back, "What is it?"

"Time to cut the cake."

I shut the door and went back inside so I didn't embarrass her by seeing her with Gemma. Dianne came in, looking radiant. Smiling, she stepped to the cake and cut it. I noticed Gemma enter by a side door. She smiled and I looked away.

I forced myself to wait as long as possible before sidling over to her. "Hello, Dave." The bitch was still smiling. I'd had some time to think about what had happened now and I was undecided whether I should be angry or not. "You want to explain what that was all about?"

"Smile, Dave or people will think you're angry about something."

I hadn't realise I wasn't but I forced a smile. "I'm waiting."

Dianne gave a shrug. "What's to explain, your wife's hot for me...but you already know that!"

This wasn't going as I expected. I stammered, "How long as it been going on?"

"I don't know, a month, maybe longer. I needed a new towel bitch and Dianne had been begging me so nicely I gave into her."

"Towel bitch?"

"I have a number of women begging to be my bitch so I give them little jobs to keep them happy. While I'm being washed, by my shower bitch, you wife kneels on the floor outside the cubical, holding my towel. When I'm finished, she dries me."

My senses reeled as I struggled to take this in. "Are you telling me, Dianne kneels on the floor, holding onto your towel, while another woman washes you?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

There was a sharpness to her tone now. "I'm sorry...I just don't get it. Wouldn't that be just a little humiliating?"

Gemma smiled now. "What would be the fun if it wasn't humiliating?"

"Then...why does she do it?"

"All my bitches get a reward. Emma, my shower bitch is allowed to kiss my nipples."

"And...Dianne?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear what my wife's reward would be for humiliating herself this way.

"Your wife is allowed to kiss my ass." Gemma gave a slight shiver. "And I can tell you, the bitch can really get her tongue deep up my ass."

I quickly looked around to see if anyone else had heard. I'd enjoyed watching Dianne and Gemma together but this had to stop. "I think it's time for you to find a new...towel bitch!"

"That is up to Dianne, don't you think?"

Before I had the chance to reply, she slipped away and started talking to my brother and his wife. I could hardly go over and tell her to leave my wife alone now, which I guess was why she picked Nick and Gloria to flirt with.

Tonight wasn't the right time. I'd allow Dianne to enjoy her birthday before telling her I knew about her and her black gym-goddess and that it was time to end it.

The party had been spoilt for me now and the night dragged until it was time to wind things up. Gemma had managed to stay away from me and I wasn't ready to talk to Dianne. Eventually, I looked around but didn't see Gemma. I searched for Dianne but she was talking to her parents. I gave a sigh of relief. I didn't know what I'd have done if Dianne and that black slut had gone off together again.

My mind caste up and image of them embracing, Gemma's tongue buried deep in my wife's mouth, and my dick twitched. I was angry with myself now for not stopping it when I had the chance. It forced me to admit, I was partly to blame. I'd watched silently on as the black sex-goddess fingered my wife to an orgasm. Did I have the right to be angry about it now? Maybe not but that didn't mean I had to be happy about my wife cheating on me with another woman.

I didn't understand this 'towel bitch' business either. Dianne had always been so confident; I had no idea why she'd humiliate herself this way. When an image of Dianne, naked and kneeling on the floor as pretty young girl washed the black goddess, came into my mind, I poured a drink, a strong one. My dick was more than twitching now; it had gone hard as a rock. I sat heavily on a chair. Swallowing my drink I looked at Dianne. I imagined her tonguing on that black ass-hole as other women watched on. It seemed so unlike her. For the first time I wondered if Gemma had been pulling my leg. Dianne didn't seem the type to be anyone's slave. Not even to a goddess like Gemma.

I was showing out the last guests when Dianne slipped away. I hoped it meant she was heading to make herself ready for me. I knew how horny she was tonight. I also knew why but I pushed thoughts of Gemma out of my head. Tomorrow we'd talk but tonight I'd fuck her.

I was pulling off my shirt as I stepped into our bedroom. When I saw Gemma, I stopped. I thought she'd left ages ago but she must have been hiding in here the whole time. She was standing next to the bed. She was wearing her tiny skirt but her blouse was lying on the floor next to where my naked wife knelt, kissing Gemma's feet. 

Gemma smiled. "Hi, Dave, come in." The bitch's gorgeous nipples stared back at me.

I walked over to her and we kissed. My hand found her tits and I squeezed and toyed with them, pulling on those fantastic nipples, making her moan into my mouth. 

"Have you calmed down now, Dave?"

What could I say? Dianne was naked, kneeling before her sex-goddess, kissing her feet. How could I object? 

"You may climb higher now, bitch."

I watched as Dianne crawled to kneel behind Gemma. She started to kiss the backs of her calves. Fuck her! If my wife wanted to humiliate herself this way, why should I care? Gemma and I kissed again. She let me play with her tits but when I tried to slide my hand lower, she stopped me.

Dianne was kissing the backs of her thighs now and I wondered how high she would go. Suddenly, I was busting to watch my wife kissing that black ass-hole. 

"Dave, sit on the bed."

It was a command and I obeyed. Dianne's hand slipped up under Gemma's skirt. She pulled down the black, lace panties just enough to allow her tongue access to her prize. I heard her wet, slurping sounds as she kissed and tongued on Gemma's ass-hole.

"That's right, bitch, work you tongue right up inside my ass."

Dianne pushed her face deeper between Gemma's ass cheeks. Gemma arched her back and let out a long, low moan. Ten minutes ago I was going to put my foot down and demand Dianne give up her black slut. Now I was sitting on the bed watching my wife bring the sex-goddess to an orgasm by reaming out her ass-hole with her tongue. I looked up at Gemma. "Why?"

"I enjoy having my bitches perform in front of their husbands." She gave a smug smile. "Husband's never object to watching their wives serve me. What about you, Dave? Do you want Dianne to stop?"

I knew Dianne could hear us and I desperately wanted to say, yes. But what man could say no to this? I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Dave, you'll have to speak a little louder. I didn't hear you!"

I could feel my face, it was glowing red. "No...I don't what Dianne to stop."

"Good boy. You may come back and suck on my tits."

I knew she was treating me like one of her bitches but I didn't know how to make this stop, even if I wanted it to. The sound of me sucking on her black nipples mixed with those of Dianne sucking on Gemma's ass-hole. The bitch was loving it too. Gemma was moaning and writhing as we worked on her body. 

"That's it, just a little more!" she screamed and we both sucked harder. Gemma's knees began to shake and I tried again to reach for her pussy. Gemma took hold of my wrist. Looking into my eyes, she told me, "Get on your knees."

I knelt before her.

"You may take down my panties but you must promise to kiss what you find!"

Dianne had slumped to one side and was watching me now. It felt strange to have my wife watch as I promised to kiss another woman's pussy. 

"Bitch, take off my skirt."

Dianne bounced up onto her knees and unzipped the tiny skirt. Gemma stepped out of it, leaving only her lace panties between her pussy and my mouth. I swallowed hard. Knowing Dianne was watching me intently, I reached for the panties. Gemma wiggled her ass as I slowly slid them down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and I tossed them aside. 

When I looked up at her pussy, I was puzzled. She looked completely shaved but that wasn't what puzzled me. Something about her pussy didn't look right. Stunned, I watched as she spread her long legs apart and slipped a hand between them. To my disbelief, she pulled a long, thick cock from between her legs. Holding the knob in front of my mouth, she told me, "Kiss it!"

"But...!"

"Please, Dave." said Dianne. "You promised!"

I looked at her and then back to the dick in front of my face. I'd never wanted to touch a dick, except mine, before and now I was frightened. What if I enjoyed it! 

"I'm waiting, Dave!" Gemma sounded angry now. Without any more thought, I lent forward and pressed my lips to the coal-black cock-head and kissed it. I sat back feeling happy. I'd done as I'd promised and it hadn't been so bad.

"What was that supposed to be?"

Feeling surprised, I looked up at Gemma. "It was a kiss, like I promised."

"That wasn't a kiss!" she retorted. "That was an insult. Now wrap your lips around my cock and use your mouth to worship me."

Stunned into action, I opened my mouth and Gemma lowered her cock-head into it. Even soft it was thick and it half-filled my mouth. I was fretting now. I had a cock in my mouth and I was sucking on it. My mind told me it was wrong but my body was telling it how right this was. My tongue licked over the nob in my mouth as my hands caresses Gemma magnificent thighs. 

Gemma looked at Dianne. "Has you husband ever sucked a cock before?"

"No, Mistress, not that I know of!"

"That way he's enjoying it, I don't think it will be his last. Does it make you happy to know he's enjoying sucking my cock?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You want it to, don't you, bitch?"

"Very much, Mistress."

Gemma laughed. "Get on the bed and beg." When Dianne lay on her back, Gemma chastised her. "Not that way. Get up on you knees. I'm going to fuck you like a dog."

"Yes, Mistress."

Gemma's cock had been stiffening and now I could work my mouth up and down her long shaft. As I worked my mouth over her cock, my wife knelt on our bed, begging to be fucked. At any other time this might have seemed funny but I was so horny now all I could think about was jamming my dick into someone. I'd love to fuck Gemma but Dianne would do.

Gemma pulled her cock free. "Do you like being my cock slut?"

Adopting my wife's form of address for Gemma, I said, "Yes, Mistress."

Her smile told me I'd said the right thing. She wrapped a hand around her cock and pulled it away from my mouth. "Do you like my balls, slut?"

A wrinkled, shaved, black ball-sack hung in front of my face. A mixture of fear and exhilaration flowed through me. "Yes, Mistress."

"Kiss them and show your wife would a good cock-slut you've become while she begs for me to fuck her."

My hands lovingly stroked her thighs as I brought my lips to her scrotum. She spat on the palm of her hand and stroked her knob, making her ball-bag slap against my lips. I kissed her balls before opening my mouth and gently sucking one into it. 

Dianne had her head swivelled around so she could watch me. "Please, Mistress, please fuck me. You know how much I love you! You know I'd do anything for you...anything!"

"You have been a good bitch. Why don't you tell Dave what you've already done for me?"

I had already sucked on Gemma's cock and I had her ball-bag in my mouth so I could hardly object when Dianne said, "When I asked to be your towel bitch you asked me to prove my devotion to you." 

When she paused, Gemma goaded her, "And how did you prove your devotion to me?" "I stripped naked and offered myself to every woman who entered the showers."

"And?"

"You took photos, lots of photos of me doing all kinds of disgusting things."

I wondered how I could get my hands on those photos! They must be fantastic!

Gemma was looking down at me as she said, "What else did you do to prove yourself worthy to be one of my bitches?"

"Please Mistress, isn't that enough!"

I was wondering what else there could be but with Gemma's balls in my mouth I couldn't ask. Fortunately, she did. "What else!"

"I walked naked into the Men's changing rooms and allowed anyone who wanted me to fuck me."

"They did more than just fuck you though, didn't they, bitch."

"Yes, Mistress. Some forced me to suck on their cocks and some of them made me take them up my ass."

I was so jealous. I'd wanted to fuck my darling wife in the ass but she'd always refused me.

"And you denied them nothing?"

"No, Mistress. I did just as you instructed me. I allowed them to do anything they wanted."

"Even the old, disgusting men that hang around just to watch young women exercising?"

"Even them Mistress, although they were the worst. They...they couldn't get enough of me but I refused them nothing!"

"Did they want to piss on you?"

"Yes, Mistress. When everyone had finished with me, five of them made me kneel while they stood around in a circle. They ordered me to smile up at them while they urinated over me."

Wow. I'd heard of golden showers but I'd never seen one, not even in a porno. I wondered if Dianne would kneel on the floor and smile up at me while I pissed all over her face!

"Did you enjoy it?"

Dianne hung her head. "Yes, Mistress. To my shame, I loved every second of it!"

I remembered. Just over a month ago, Dianne had struggled home, complaining of some virus she'd caught. She lay in bed for three days while I fussed over her. The bitch didn't have a virus; she'd had her brains fucked out.

Gemma pulled her balls from my mouth. "Get on the bed alongside your slut wife."

I obeyed.

Dianne was looking at me as Gemma slid her cock into her. I saw her grimace as the big cock slid deep into her. I'd seen that grimace before but I never thought I'd see it this way. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked me. "I mean, really mind!"

I didn't know how to answer so I kissed her. I felt so strange to be kissing my wife, knowing she was being fucked. We had to stop when Gemma began to really slam into Dianne's pussy. I just knelt beside her and watched as she orgasmed. 

I heard the wet sound of Gemma pulling out and I knew what was coming. I knew Gemma had ordered me to kneel on the bed alongside my wife for a reason. Gemma positioned herself behind me. I felt her hands take hold of my waist. I felt her thick, wet knob probe at my offered ass-hole. Then nothing!

Dianne lent in close and whispered into my ear, "If you want our Mistress to fuck you, you'll have to beg. With her, you have to beg for everything!"




Betrayed



I wasn't even sure I wanted this to happen but I found myself saying, "Please my, Mistress, please fuck me! I sucked your cock and made it nice and hard for you so please, won't you use it on my ass. Please, Mistress!"

"Do you offer your body to me, to use as it pleases me?"

I remembered Dianne's story of how she'd allowed herself to be gang-banged to prove her devotion. I swallowed hard. What would she ask of me? "Yes, Mistress."

The pain was horrendous. It felt like my ass-hole was being ripped open. I'd expected some pain but I wasn't ready for this. My mind cried out for me to fight my way free, to end the pain, but my body refused. It knelt on the bed, allowing this black, she-male-goddess to fuck me.

Slowly, oh so slowly, some of the pain subsided to be replaced by a small amount of pleasure. "Jerk yourself off." I grabbed my dick and pulled hard on it. It was miraculous. The pain was still there but now there was so much pleasure along with the pain. "Oh, Mistress, that feels so good. Please don't stop, please fuck me. Please, Mistress, use my body for your pleasure, fuck me!"

Gemma laughed. I climaxed, dumping a load of cum over the bed. Gemma slipped off the bed. She clicked her fingers and pointed at her feet. Dianne and I jumped from the bed and kissed her feet as we thanked her for fucking us.

I could hear the sound of her pulling on her cock. "Look up at me."

We obeyed. We were both smiling as Gemma emptied her balls over our faces. "Now, kiss and lick each other clean."

I'd never tasted cum before but I now knew Dianne had tasted plenty. Regardless, I eagerly kissed my wife and lapped the cum from her face. We'd been so busy we didn't heard Gemma leave. 

"I'm so sorry I brought you into this."

I took her hand. "Don't be. I enjoyed every second of it."

Dianne looked shyly at me. "Is there some way I can thank you for being so understanding?"

My cock was so hard it was hurting. "Would you turn around and let me ass-fuck you!"

"I'm sorry that you won't be my first."

I was too but I said, "It doesn't matter."

Dianne turned around and knelt on the floor and offered her ass to me. I took her that way. Then I dragged her into the bathroom and made her kneel in front of me while I pissed over her face. 

We showered and climbed into bed. "Do you think she'll come back again soon?"

Dianne stroked my face with a loving hand. "Gemma as a lot of bitches begging for her body and most of them are a lot younger and prettier than me."

I was crestfallen and I guess it showed.

"If you like, there are some men at the gym I could talk to. I'm sure some of them would be willing to come over."

It was my turn to be shy. "Would they...?" Even after all that had happened I was too embarrassed to ask my wife something like that.

"Would they let you suck their cock and fuck you?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure they'd love too."

"Umm..."

Dianne smiled. "Don't worry, I'll make sure they're black. Black and well hung." She gave me a wink. "Don't forget, I want them to fuck me too!"

I couldn't wait!



Betrayed by Her



I am surprised when Her husband answers the door and mumble hello awkwardly as He smirks at my discomfort. "Come on in," He offers expansively letting me in the door. He stands close while I shut the door steadily forcing me into the corner. "She told me about you," He whispers.

"Huh," I grunt not wanting to believe what He just said.

"She told me about you," He says again laughing cruelly. I look at Him until His harsh stare forces me to look away. "Everything," He declares triumphantly, stressing again, "Everything." 

My heart sinks into my churning stomach as I mumble weakly, "Everything?" 

"Oh yes," He gloats, "Everything!"

"Oh god," escapes like a whimper from my lips and when His hand grasps my arm my knees buckle.

"Hold on Sissibitch, strip first," He smirks pushing me into the corner. I am stunned that She has given Him my name, then angry at the betrayal. I look up to protest but the look in His eyes drains any such thought away. Slowly I start to strip trying to prolong the moment of dread.

"Hurry," He snarls maliciously. "Oh yeah," He chortles as I drop my trousers to reveal the ruffled powder blue panties She had only just given me that morning. 

I feel my face flush red with embarrassment as He hoots, "I don't believe it! What a pathetic fuck. Look at yourself," He commands pushing in front of the hall mirror. But I can't. I feel sick. "Look I said," He growls grasping my hair and pulling my head up. A tear slips down my cheek as I look at the ridiculous fool in the fluffy blue panties.

"Yeah you should be ashamed of yourself," He whispers meanly. "Fucking sissy. Eh? You a fucking sissy faggot Bitch?" He snarls curling His lip. 

I almost mumble no but it comes out as a whiny moan.

"Oh yeah got ourselves here a fucking sissy faggot" He spits harshly grasping my arm in a firm hard grip. "Sissy faggots belong on their knees bitch," shaking me, "Now you stupid fuck, KNEEL!!" 

With a whimper my knees give way and I sink to floor before Him. I squeal as His hand entwines my hair forcing my head back to look into His terrifying clouded eyes. 

"Sissy faggots suck cock," He announces. "Now you useless fuck, you are going to give me the best blow job I've ever had or you will suffer," He informs me in a no nonsense voice. "Really suffer," He stresses menacingly, "Really."

Shaking my head by my hair He states flatly "Well. Get at it. Blow me bitch." He doesn't release His grip on my hair as I fumble with His belt, then His zipper with my hands trembling and my breathing comes in panting gasps.

"Oooooooohhhh," I wail as He gives my hair a vicious tug when I hesitate staring at His boxers. Slipping my fingers beneath the waist band I tug them down a couple of inches before I sob with despair and try to pull away.

"What the fuck," He snarls, "Where the fuck do you think you're going Bitch? Eh!?" I wail loudly as He pulls me towards Him by my hair.

"No please, noooooo..." my moan cut off by a stinging slap across the face. 

"Fucking slut," He snarls shaking me some more, "Want it rough huh?" Slap! "I'll give you fucking rough!!" Slap slap.

My face is burning tears stream down my cheeks, "Please stop, please!" I plead. Slap.

"Fucking useless bitch," He mutters.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please, I will do what you want," I moan pathetically trying to pull down His boxers. He stops slapping me and watches in the mirror as I expose His still flaccid manhood.

"Beg for it," He pants from above me.

Crying I plead, "Please Sir, please let me suck Your cock Sir," reaching for His half hard cock with my hands. "Please," I whimper. When His grip loosens I lean forward shivering with dread and hopelessness to kiss His cock head.

"Open your mouth Bitch," He almost giggles He is so pleased with Himself. I comply with a sniffle of shame and He rests the head of His cock on my lower lip. I'm trembling uncontrollably and horrified that this is happening to me. "Now suck My cock into your mouth Bitch," He growls hoarsely, then moaning as I slowly use my lips to pull His hardening manhood into my mouth until my face is buried in His pubes. I breath in His scent as His cock swells to fill my mouth.

"Look at Me Bitch," He pants and I am chilled by the sadistic smile and His gleaning cruel eyes, "Swallow." As a reflex action I do and try not to gag as His now half-hard cock slips into my throat, "Oh yeah," He groans thrusting His hips forward to keep as much of His cock in me.

"Swallow," He demands again and more of His hardness evades my throat. "Ah fuck that feels good," He grunts as I breath deeply through my nose fighting panic. "Swallow you useless fucking cunt," He yells, "Swallow My cock faggot!" Panic and fear seize me. My every breath fills my lungs with His overwhelming musk.

His cock is now massive and just as I feel as though I'll pass out He pulls back and out of my throat. "Oh yeah Bitch that was fun, eh" He shakes my head up and down on His hard cock laughing. "Yeah bet you enjoyed that, eh, fucking cock sucking slut." I fight to regain myself as He proceeds to slowly rock His hips back and forth thrusting His cock in and out of my mouth.

"Oh yeah, face fucking the sissy fag boy," He pants breathlessly. "Yeah suck my cock good Bitch." His grip tightens on my hair holding me still as He grasps His spit slick cock with His free hand and slowly starts to pump it. "Look at me slut," He screams, pumping Himself harder sneering down at me. "Ah, ah, ah," He pants in time to His pumping, "Aaahhhhhh...."

The force of His ejaculation surprises me and His first spurt fills my mouth and throat with hot sticky goo. I struggle not to swallow as the second spurt makes my cheeks bulge and I am concentrating on not swallowing when He thrusts His hips forward forcing His cock into the back of my throat screaming, "Oh yeah, take it bitch!" Cum sprays from my mouth, my nose. I'm gagging as He howls with delight thrusting His hips again and again into my face burying His cock in my throat.

He shivers several times as His orgasm subsists. I shake with shame and humiliation as His cum drools from my violated lips and down my chin. His cock begins to deflate but He keeps it in my mouth slowly pumping the dredges of His cum from it. 'Yeah, Bitch likes my cum, don't you Bitch," He snickers, "Little faggot wants more, don't you Bitch." He uses my hair to make me nod yes. 

"Wanna be my full-time cock sucker, eh sissy boy?" I get the picture and nod my head up and down on His cock and hear Him sigh with triumph, "Yeah you're going make you a good little cock sucker you are. Eh Sissibitch?" My cum covered lips slide over His rapidly hardening member as I nod yes again. "Fuckin' eh." He moans.... 



Betrayed by My Best Friend



Alice and I had been best friends since grade school. Oh we had our disagreements but for the most part we got along extremely well. That is until we competed for the same man and I won. Alice fell madly in love with Bill and did everything in her power to land him, but I did even more. And to be honest I did not fight fair. Any chance I got I found some way to make her look bad. So when Bill and I finally got married, Alice stopped talking to me altogether.

Well, that was 20 years ago. Bill and I have two wonderful children, both of which are pretty well grown up, and a wonderful life together. I never expected to see Alice again but quite by accident we ran into each other at a charity function. After an awkward silence we finally shook hands and agreed to meet for lunch and catch up on what had transpired during the last 20 years. 

So a week later we sat across from each other at a small out of the way restaurant. We exchange small talk for a while and I discovered that Alice had gotten married five years ago and was extremely happy with her new life. We talked about what we were doing now and I discovered that Alice and I had something in common and that was wanting to try and protect animals. In fact she mentioned that she was having an auction soon, to raise money for a new animal shelter in her neighborhood.

I asked her what kind of an auction and wondered if there was something that I might be able to donate. Well, she just started laughing. She told me that she did not think that my husband would want me donating to this particular event and then she explained that it was a slave auction. 

Well, I guess my mouth hung open for a few seconds. "A slave, auction?" I asked. "I have no idea what that is?"

"It is quite simple, actually, I get volunteers from unmarried men and women and they agree to auction off their services for a weekend. It does not have to involve sex but sometimes it does if the new owner and slave hit it off. Most of the time the slave just spends the weekend cleaning house in the nude or giving cream rubs or foot massages. Sometimes it gets much more intense, involving bondage and discipline. The kinkier the activity requested the more the bid becomes. We actually raise a lot of money for the animals. I think the last auction raised upwards of $10,000 dollars."

"Wow, that is amazing, how did you get involved in something like that?"

"I was approached by a woman I knew and she asked me to help her out in raising some money for animals and of course I couldn't refuse her. I readily agreed before I really understood what was happening. But I guess you know that I have never been a prude and so when I ended up on the auction block and realized exactly what they were bidding on I couldn't bring myself to back out. I was surprised when the closing bid for my services was $500 and I saw the very handsome man that had purchased me. I spent the weekend, totally naked and at his beck and call. It was so demeaning but so sexually stimulating at the same time that just before the weekend ended, I volunteered for some extra duty. He accepted and apparently liked what he got because a few weeks later he asked me to marry him and I accepted. I hope sometime that you and Bill can meet him."

"I would love to and I am sure that Bill will as well. So I see why you don't think I can be apart of the auction, but is there anything else I might be able to do to help out?"

"I don't think so, at least not for this auction. I do need servers from time to time but I am pretty well, supplied with volunteers right now. Maybe next time around you could help out."

We parted company that day and I felt that we had almost washed away the past. She seemed genuinely happy with her life and seemed glad that everything had worked out so well for Bill and I. 

I settled in to my normal routine of taking care of my family. I did have a full time job as a legal aide and so during the week I was kept extremely busy. But on the weekends, Bill and I found time to please one another. And then his schedule changed and I found myself more and more alone for long stretches of time on the weekends. For the most part the kids had their own friends and except for coming home to sleep I never saw them. I was becoming rather bored and quite lonely so I was happy when I got a call from Alice telling me that one of her servers had taken ill and she could use my help if I was still willing. I asked her what I needed to do and she said I just needed to look my sexiest and to serve food and drinks when the guests requested it. And to make sure that I indeed looked sexy, she would provide me with a French maid's uniform. All I needed to do was provide the undergarments that went under it and a pair of black pumps with at least a 6-inch heel.

I told her that I did not own such a pair of shoes, but since it was for charity I would go out and purchase a pair. She then told me that all of the servers dressed identically and so I needed to make sure that I wore garters and black hose and that panty hose was not allowed. Something in the back of my mind caused me to hesitate for a second but then I thought; it is for charity. 

It had been a long time since I had worn garters so while I was out shopping for my new heels, I stopped by a lingerie store as well. I found myself getting turned on just thinking about wearing some of this stuff and so I ended up spending far more money than I had intended. But when I thought how happy Bill was going to be when he got an opportunity to see me model it, I knew the money was well spent.

When I arrived home from work on Friday night, I saw a package waiting for me on my door stoop. I immediately knew that this must be my uniform for the party and so I took it inside and quickly opened it. I was flabbergasted to see not only how beautiful that uniform was but also how short it was. I knew that if I sat down or if I bent over, not only would my garters be visible but my panties would be as well. And that necessitated that I trim some hair that I normally would not. I spent the next hour bathing myself and preparing my hair and make up. By the time I was ready to dress the hour was getting late. So I quickly got dressed and made my way out the door. I had never been to Alice's but it was only a short drive away. When I pulled into the drive, I was amazed at all the high-end automobiles that were parked around the premises. And I was also amazed at the size of Alice's house. She must have done exceedingly well in her marriage.

I found a place to park and hurried to the front door only to find a surely doorman waiting for me, who informed me that servers were to enter the rear of the house. And he pointed to a walk that led around the side. Being already late, I moved as quickly as one can in 6-inch heels. I knocked at the back door and Alice herself opened it immediately. She had a frown on her face and she pulled me roughly into the house.

"Karen, for god's sake, you had me worried that you were not going to make it tonight. I have a full complement of guests and I need every server I can get. Let's get you started but first there is one more piece of your uniform that you will need." She went to a cupboard and pulled out what looked like a dog collar. She told me to hold my hair out of place and then fastened it around my neck. It seemed strange enough wearing a dog collar but this one was particularly so as I could feel little metal strips that were placed across my throat and the sides of my neck and there was a small metal box that hung down in front.

I started to object asking her why I needed to wear a dog collar. She got a little exasperated with me and said, "I told you this was a slave auction. And even though you are just a server you still have to look the part. All the girls are wearing the same thing. Now grab a tray of appetizers and get out there and circulate. When your tray starts to get low, come back and get another one. And if any of the guests asks you to bring them anything, do so as quickly as possible. 

Well, I was kept busy running back and forth to the kitchen all night long. As I made my rounds I was amazed at how many people were there that I knew. I saw my boss, who shook his head in wonder at me. I saw several acquaintances that I had met at various functions and the biggest shock was when I handed a drink to my mother. "Why, Karen," she said. "You are just full of surprises. Does Bill know that you are here, with a slave collar around your neck?"

"He knows I am helping out a friend at a charity event. He obviously has not seen the collar. I did not know it was part of the uniform when I agreed to help out."

"Well, dear, you look lovely. I can't wait for the opportunity to have a longer chat with you but I am sure you have to get back to work. Call me soon."

I had not even had time to take a short break and my feet were killing me. So, when Alice finally announced that the auction was going to begin and for all the guests were to find seats in the large auditorium I was relieved almost to the point of crying. And as the guests took their seats one of the other servers came over and led me to an area along one wall where there was only one chair. I looked at her a little confused and she said that Alice had requested that I stay and help clean up, but that I could sit and rest here until I was needed. The rest of the servers then left.

I was completely confused by this turn of events. Why would I, the least experienced server be asked to stay while the others went home? 

And then the auction started. The first item up for bid was a beautiful girl with long dark hair. She wore nothing on her body except for a white bra and panty set and white high heels.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this ravishing young thing has agreed to be someone's slave for the rest of the weekend. She has agreed to do anything requested of her with the exception of intercourse. I am sure that you can see a lot of room for interpretation as to exactly what that means, so I am going to start the bidding at $1,000 dollars. I saw someone's hand immediately shoot up and then an actual auctioneer took over driving the bidding higher and higher until she was sold for $2200.

"The next slave up for bid is Marc Taylor. As you can see he is in very good shape. Look at that six-pack! And don't you just wonder what else he has in those tiny little shorts he is wearing? Oh wait, I think I can see it trying to peak out of the edges. And incidentally he has agreed to absolutely anything for the entire weekend. Who wants to start the bidding at say $5,000?

I was amazed as I watched them troop up to the platform one after another to agree to be sold to the highest bidder. I wondered what it would be like to be forced to serve a stranger for an entire evening, but the thought was not one that caused me to become excited. It was the complete opposite and I cringed thinking what they would be forced to do. I must have drifted off, because the next time I looked up the stage was empty except for Alice. I figured the auction must be over so I stood and started to leave.

"Not so fast, slave," I heard Alice say into the microphone.

I had no idea she was talking to me and so I kept walking a few more steps when a powerful shock hit my throat and the sides of my neck, stopping me in my tracks. 

"Would a couple of you please retrieve our errant guest and bring her to the platform?"

I was still confused when I felt two sets of strong hands gripping my arms on either side and beginning to lead me back toward Alice. An icy fear started to form in my stomach and I tried to pull away but their hold was like being in a vise.

"Let me go," I screamed. "I am not one of your sick volunteers. Let me go or I will have you all arrested."

And then I felt another shock hit my neck and this one was sustained to the point where I almost passed out. I tried to cry out but my vocal chords were frozen and I could not utter even a mild protest.

I was forced onto the platform and dragged between two metal posts. The men holding me produced two sets of metal restraints but before they could put them on me, Alice again spoke.

"Ok, slut, you have felt the zap of your collar. That was on a mild setting, would you like to feel it turned all the way up?"

"God, no, please don't hurt me anymore," I begged.

"Then you better put the best smile you can find onto your face, look directly into the camera and read what is written on the card I am holding up. If you so much as hesitate I will shock you hard enough to drive you to your knees. Then when you have recovered we will start over. And we will keep following that same cycle until I am satisfied that anyone watching this tape will believe that you are making the statement of your own volition. Now, I want you to study the card and read it through in your mind. When you are sure you can make a convincing tape, nod your head and we will get started."

Well, I read the card and was completely shocked. I knew that if I did as she asked that anyone that saw that tape would believe that I was a whore out to make money for myself. It would be extremely hard for me to go to the police and convince them that I was anything but a prostitute that allowed things to go a little too far and was now trying to cry rape. I steeled myself the best I could and nodded my head.

I looked directly into the camera and began reading in my most convincing voice, "I Karen Anderson would like to thank everyone here for your generous donations to the Animal Rescue Fund. I know that many of you have dipped deep into your wallets and purses but now it is time to ask you for donations for another purpose. I am in need of a little extra cash, myself. And so I offer myself to you, for your enjoyment. And in return maybe you will help me by being generous with your money. I have posted a price schedule on the bulletin board, so if you are interested you can find me before you leave. I am sure you will find my fees to be extremely low for what I offer. For instance oral sex, giving or receiving is just $10. And I always swallow. A bare back fuck will cost you $40. I thank you in advance."

The camera was then turned off so that the tape could be locked safely away to be used later in case I did not follow instructions. And then Alice addressed the group.

"Before you hook her up, please take off the Maid's dress. That belongs to me and I see no reason to have it ruined by being cut off of her. Here let me help you with that."

She came over and pulled the dress up over my head and had the men release one of my arms so that she could pull it out of the sleeve. Then that hand was again gripped and the other released. I was soon standing in just my black bra, black garter, black thong and hose and heels. My arms were then stretched upwards and secured to metal rings in each post. They had pulled me high enough so that the only thing touching the ground was just my tiptoes. While my feet had been suffering before, I had not experienced pain until my toes started to cramp and soon my entire legs were on fire.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, here is the last item up for bids. I am sure you can see that she isn't in as good shape as any that has gone before her so I don't expect to get too much for her. But, as an added bonus, she has not agreed to do anything and I know for a fact that she is a complete prude, so it should be entertaining to see what wonderful degrading things you can force upon her for the rest of the weekend. Does anyone want to bid for the privilege of cutting off her bra?"

"I will bid $50 dollars," a male voice announced.

"That is more than generous. $50 is a lot of money just for the privilege of baring this skanks breasts. Come on up."

And I almost died when I discovered that the bidder was Mr. Winters, my boss. 

He took a pair of sheers and proceeded to cut the straps off of my shoulders and then cut the center of my bra down the middle so that he could pull it off of my breasts. He then grabbed my left breast in his big hand and began squeezing and twisting it until the tears streamed down my face.

"Please, Alice, why are you doing this to me?"

"You know why, slut. I have waited for this moment for 20 years and I am going to enjoy watching you suffer all weekend. Oh I see your mother is about to leave, say goodbye."

When I didn't answer, Alice again pushed the button that activated my collar and I screamed silently. And I heard her say, "Don't worry Norma, I will make sure you get the full tape of Karen's performance. Maybe, you would like to share it with your son some evening."

"Now, who wants to bid on cutting her panties off?"

That item brought $25 and my garters brought another $20 and my nylons went for $5. Someone even bought my shoes for $10. So shortly I was standing completely nude. The outfit that I had spent well over $200 dollars for was for the most part laying in a pile completely ruined.

"Now that she is ready to be used and abused, does anyone want to bid for the pleasure of whipping this bitch? I'll tell you what, in order to speed things along, why don't all who are interested in this activity please line up to my left. I will set the price at 1 dollar per stroke. That way you can whip her all you want and it won't cause your wallets or purses to suffer. I have in my hand two tawses. These were specially made for me with six heavy strands instead of two. I assure you that when you strike her with one of these she will begin to sway. There is room for two of you, one in front of her and one in back. Let's have a competition to see who can make her sway the farthest without touching her with any thing but the whips. So now release her arms from the side poles and tie them together and use the winch to pull her up off her toes so her body can swing freely. Let's start with two women. And so she doesn't know when the blows will come here is a blindfold, please make sure she can see nothing.

I was already raised off the floor and my arms were painfully stretched to the limit. I was having trouble breathing as the pressure was causing my rib cage to constrict. I had heard that people could actually suffocate this way and I was beginning to panic even before the blindfold was put over my eyes and secured in place.

Very soon I heard a loud swoosh and then whap and pain exploded across my entire ass. I felt myself sway slightly away from the blow and then another swoosh, whap and even worse pain erupted across my stomach and the front of my hips. I screamed and I heard Alice say, "again, harder. Make the cunt swing. And they did. Blow after horrible blow landed and I was soon swinging to the rhythm of the whips.

"Harder, mark the bitch."

And then I passed out. I don't know if they continued to beat me while I hung there unconscious or not but when I woke up to the smell of ammonia being held under my nose, I was no longer hanging, but instead I was encased in an old fashioned pillory. I was bent at the waste and my head and arms were captured in the wooden structure. But this device also had something added. A beam protruded out under my belly so that I had no choice but to hold my ass out at an inviting angle. And I knew that I was low enough so that a man of normal height would have no problem fucking me standing up. The only redeeming factor was that my head was held in such a position that my mouth was pointed down at the ground and I figured that it would be difficult for them to get at my lips. I soon found out that was a mistake on my part.

"She is awake so please step up and fuck the bitch. Don't bother to lubricate her. I want her to be dry-fucked in whichever hole you choose to use. It may be uncomfortable for you for a little while but the added friction will make it worth the effort. 




Betrayed by My Best Friend



And then someone stepped up behind me grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them apart and inserted the head of his cock into the entrance of my pussy. With no preliminaries, what so ever, he shoved with all his might and the full length of his cock tore into my canal. The pain was excruciating and I screamed and screamed. My distress seemed to drive him to greater efforts and he was soon slamming himself, in and out, driving even deeper until I could feel his balls slapping my ass. And as I opened my mouth to scream even louder my hair roughly pulled my head back and a giant cock was pushed into my mouth. He did not even hesitate to let me get adjusted before he slammed the tip of his cock down my throat. I started to gag but nothing could come up past that thick piece of meat blocking the entrance to my esophagus. He held his hips still against my lips and allowed me to stop panicking and I began to be able to breathe through my nose. And then he began to stroke slowly in an out, fucking my mouth as he would if he was in my cunt.

And by now, my cunt was actually lubricate, but with what I did not know. I certainly had not achieved any level of excitement, so it may have been his pre-cum or perhaps blood from my torn insides but in any event he was sliding in and out. And I knew very soon that I would be lubricated with his jism. Neither man seemed to want to take time and really enjoy what they were doing so within a few minutes I felt cum shoot out of each of them. While I was almost grateful for the load in my cunt as it would lubricate me for who ever came after but the one in my mouth was vile tasting and although I knew I did not want to anger anyone by not swallowing, it was the most disgusting thing I had ever done.

But I did not have time to think about it, as they had no sooner pulled out than another cock was pushed between my lips. And although Alice had told them not to lubricate themselves the one behind me did wipe his cock across the wet lips of my pussy to get some juice onto his cock head before he inserted it into my ass. I had never been penetrated in that hole before, although my husband had tried to get me to let him a few times. And I soon learned why I had refused him. The pain was incredible as my sphincter muscle was roughly stretched to allow more and more of his cock to enter me. I know that I would have screamed but with a cock pushed deep down your throat not much sound comes out. I could feel fluid in my rectum and this time I had no doubt that my own blood caused it as small veins and capillaries had ruptured when that huge cock was shoved into my ass with no mercy.

I don't know how many cocks entered my various holes before my mind finally shut down. I do know that my stomach was full of cum as were my cunt and asshole. Finally most of the men must have been sated as I was left alone for a few minutes to regain some composure.

I felt the stocks being lifted off of my hands and neck and hoped that my ordeal was finally over, but I did not realize that the men were not the only ones that wanted to use my. I was dragged roughly upright and forced a little ways across the room where a padded bench was set up. I was forced to lie down with my head just protruding off the end of the bench. I was almost grateful of being able to stretch out onto something when I realized that the bench was covered with sharp protruding objects that I could only assume were the tips of nails or tacks of some kind. And as I was secured with tight straps across my chest and hips I could do nothing but suffer their intrusion into my skin.

And then I felt legs brushing the sides of my cheeks and I smelled the unmistakable odor of excited pussy. I had never been with a woman but I knew that was going to be rectified. And then I felt her lower her cunt down onto my mouth. Without even being told I began to lick her wet smelly slit.

"Wow," I heard someone say. "This whore really likes eating beaver. I did not even have to tell her and she dove right in. You ladies are in for a real treat she is a great cunt lapper. And she ground her hips even harder against my mouth.

By this time I had made up my mind that I would do everything I could to make my tormentors happy. And perhaps if I did a good enough job that they would show a little bit of mercy. So as each woman took her place I drove my tongue as deep into their slits as I could and worked my tongue as much as possible against their clits. For the next hour or so my motto became slits and clits. And not one woman left my mouth until she had her body wracked by at least one huge orgasm.

Finally Alice announced that it was time to clean me up. I was untied and allowed to get off the bench. I suppose I should have tried to escape once I was free, but where was I going to go. I was naked, my legs were weak and I was bleeding from my back and rectum. And the idea of trying to fight anyone to get to a door leading outside just did not have an appeal. 

Alice led me over to an area with a concrete floor with a drain in the center. There was another hook hanging down from a beam that crossed the section and once again my hands were tied and connected to the hook. 

"Pull her up far enough so that she can stand with her toes on the floor. I don't want her to be able to hurt herself when I start to disinfect her wounds. You folks did a marvelous job with the taws. Her back and front is cut up pretty well. I am sure she will have scars for a long time. But I think we should make sure that her bowels are taken care of. Would one of you bring that enema bottle and someone else get a quart of tequila to put in it. I am sure that should work wonders to seal any wounds in her rectal tract."

Shortly after that I felt a small hose being inserted into my anal opening. "I am going to release the flow now and you better clench your ass muscles and hold all of it in."

Liquid fire erupted inside my rectum and as hard as I tried I could not stop some from leaking out. But as soon as the hose was removed, a huge plug was shoved into my ass and secured with some type of harness and then I was left to hang with my inside screaming with burning pain.

"We will just leave her there until that has time to fully work."

I must have passed out from the pain because the next thing I knew I came violently awake with the smell of ammonia under my nose.

"No fair bitch," Alice said. "You don't get to nap until you have absorbed all that wonderful alcohol into your system. And then we will use some more as a douche to clean out your cunt as well. She doesn't seem to be trashing around too much so maybe the pain as gone down enough so she can feel something in another area. Bring me another bottle and a sponge. She then covered the sponge with tequila and used it to bathe my back and hips. The alcohol immediately started to burn in all the tender areas where the whip had landed and I screamed and screamed and screamed. And as soon as that fire had died down, she repeated the process with my tits and belly. She made sure that the sponge was wet enough so that a small amount of the fiery liquid ran down my front and made contact with the lips of my pussy. That was just a hint of the pain that area was to suffer. For soon the enema bag was refilled with another quart and the hose inserted into my vagina and pushed as far as it could go. When it was obvious that it was almost inside my womb, she again released the flow so that I could scream as the tenderest area of my body was subjected to the acid like burns of the liquor. 

This time when I passed out they did not bother to revive me. But apparently they did not leave me hanging there either for when I awoke that time I was in a large dog crate all by myself in the middle of the concrete floor. I was still in considerable pain, especially inside of my cunt and ass but at least it was tolerable. I had no way of telling what time of day it was as there were no clocks in the room and the room had no windows. It was impossible for me to lie down fully so I was curled into a fetal position and unable to move from it. My arms and legs were cramped and I cried out for someone to come and release me so that I could stretch. No one came and the hours passed in agony.

And then the worst indignity struck. I began to realize that I needed to relieve my bladder. I had suffered so much pain that only when I was totally distended did I recognize the signs that I had to urinate and that there was no way I was going to be able to hold it in. So I relaxed the best I could and released a steady stream of piss. It had nowhere to go except under my body and I lay in my own liquid waste until Alice finally decided to come for me.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed. "The little bitch pissed herself. I always knew that she was a disgusting slut, but this takes the cake. Ralph, grab the hose from the wall. I need to spray her off before I touch her."

And spray she did. The water was ice cold and I tried to curl up more to avoid it but Alice just kept moving around the cage until she was satisfied that the urine had been washed from the cage and my body.

She then opened the cage door and left. She did not even try to help me out and it took me a long time with my muscles cramped the way they were to pull myself out of the cage and onto the cold cement floor. Shortly I felt a huge fan start up and the cold air attacking my wet body. I had never been so cold in my life. It did not take long for me to air dry and as soon as I felt the last of the water dissipate the fan stopped.

I noticed that there was nothing stopping me from moving around so I started looking for some way out of that basement. I came to a set of stairs and started climbing. At the top was a door that I assumed would be locked but I tried the knob and to my surprise it opened. No one stopped me as I entered the living area of the house. I smelled coffee coming from somewhere to my right and I gravitated that way. I did not know how long it had been since I had eaten and my stomach was cramping in anticipation. In addition I now recognized that I was extremely thirsty. As I entered a hallway, I noticed a tall grandfather clock. It told me that it was 2 o'clock but I did not know if that was 2 p.m. or 2 a.m. But from the light in the upper house, it must have been 2p.m. and I began to panic realizing that I had been gone for nearly 24 hours and my husband would be frantic by this time.

I found Alice sitting at a breakfast bar in a large dining area. She looked up as I entered and said, "Well, I see you have found your way upstairs. How have you enjoyed your stay here so far?"

"What do you mean so far." I asked. "Surely there isn't anything more that you can do to me. I have been raped in every hole possible, whipped until I have scars front and back and have had liqueur injected into my bowels and cunt. And much of it in front of people I know. Let's see, rape, pain and humiliation. No I think that covers the gamut."

"Oh, Karen, it is plain you do not understand my hatred for you. There is so much more to do, before you are completely broken. But you are free to leave, if you want. I just want to show you a few pictures before you go."

"I don't want to see any pictures. I am sure you took a lot of them last night and you plan to try and blackmail me with them, but that is not going to work. Every picture you could have taken would show that I was an unwilling participant. And even with the tape that made it look like I was a prostitute, those other pictures would show how I was coerced. You are going to spend a very long time in prison for what you have done to me."

"Karen, Karen, Karen," she started. "The pictures I want to show you are not of you. They are of your daughter, Chelsea. And by the way your husband has been calling nonstop on your cell phone. Of course I did not answer it. But I did read one or two of his texts. It seems he is really worried that no one knows where Chelsea is."

She then shoved a glossy 8x10 picture in front of my face. It showed my daughter in a dog cage just like the one I was kept in last night. And I could clearly see tears running down her face.

"You cruel, heartless, bitch," I spit. "I am going to kill you with my bare hands. Where is my daughter and what have you done to her?"

"Your daughter will be released in due time. That is if you do exactly what you are told. If on the other hand you decide not to cooperate or you decide to involve the authorities, what you went through last night will seem like a walk in the park to Chelsea. Do you get the picture?"

"I understand what you are saying but even if I wanted to obey your instructions, there is no way I could pull it off. I am sure Bill has already called the police. There is nothing I could do to stop that."

"Oh, I think there is. I had a text message sent to your phone from Chelsea's. It says that she is going to go out of town with a man she met at a party. She asked you to understand and to not try to reach her as her phone will be turned off and the gps deactivated. She is safe and is just looking to have some fun for a change. On second thought I am just going to have that same text sent to his phone. If he has called the police I am sure he will show it to them."

"And you think that Bill is just going to accept that? And what am I supposed to tell him about where I have been for the last 24 hours, or how I got whip marks covering my entire body, or how I ended up totally naked with my clothes cut to ribbons?"

"You are going to call Bill and tell him that you are extremely sorry, but you have been seeing another man for the past six months and you have finally decided to move in with him. You are going to tell him that this man is much better endowed than he is and that you could never go back to fucking a man with such a small dick. And you will tell him in those exact words."

I broke down and started bawling. I was so depressed that I wanted to die. I could see no way out of the situation and I knew that I was about to lose everything.

"Why are you doing this to us? I know you think you were wronged when I took Bill from you, but that was 20 years ago. You are married to a very wealthy man and apparently one that loves you enough to join you in your sadistic games. Why isn't that enough. And why do you want to hurt the rest of my family?"

"You are right about my husband, he is more than willing to help me out with you. In fact he was one of those who whipped your ass until it was raw. But he also pointed out that it was not just you that wronged me. I had never given much thought to Bill's roll in this whole thing until he pointed it out to me. Taking Chelsea and having you leave Bill was his idea. So are you going to make that phone call to Bill, or am I going to make one to the location where Chelsea is being held?"

"I will make the call," I said.

"Bill, this is Karen. I just wanted you to know that I am all right. I got a text from Chelsea saying she was going away with some man she met. Do you know anything about that?"

"I just got the same text myself. I was worried sick about her but I guess she is Ok. But where in hell have you been?"

"I am sorry Bill. I should have told you a long time ago but I have been having an affair for the last 6 months. I just could not stand living without a decent sized cock in my cunt. I won't be coming home again. There is no point. I have everything I want with my new man. Goodbye Bill."

And I hung up before he could reply. As my phone started to ring again, I took the back off the phone and removed the battery.

"You are such a good little slut. You did well. Would you like to have a little something to eat, now? You need to keep up your energy you know."

"I am hungry." I said.

"Okay, then, get down on your knees and crawl over to the dog bowl in the corner. I will get you a nice can of Alpo."

"You must be out of your mind, I can't eat dog food."

"Oh, but you will because everything you refuse to do for me, Chelsea will be forced to do." And she reached for her phone.

"No, please wait," I said as I sank you my knees. I began crawling to the dish. Alice brought a can of dog food to me and spooned it out into the bowl. As soon as it was full she forced my face down into it and said, "Now, lap it up like a good little dog. And remember, dogs don't use their hands. I hope you don't mind the crusty texture on the outside of the bowl. My dog never seems to lick it quite clean enough. I hope you do better."

I started to gag and I knew that I was going to throw up at that point but she rushed to me and shoved a rag in my mouth and pulled my head back. You better learn to keep it down Bitch otherwise it is not going to be pretty. Breath through your nose until it settles and then swallow it back down."

I managed to get control of myself and she again shoved my head into the bowl and I continued eating until the bowl was empty. She then instructed me to lick the sides and bottom until she was satisfied that I had softened and removed all the dried crusts that her dog had left behind. She then refilled the bowl and called her dog into the room for his breakfast. She forced me to stay on my hands and knees and watch as her dog finished and left. She then told me to again lick the sides and bottom clean. 

I was just finishing up when her husband walked into the room. "I see you are training your new dog. Did she eat all of her food?"

"Yes and licked the bowl clean both after she ate and after Rusty ate. Do you think she deserves something to drink, now?" 

"Yes, and I have just the thing. We will need to get another dish for Rustys' water. I don't want him drinking after her." He then walked over ere the water bowl sat, picked it up and emptied it into the sink. He then took his cock out of his sweat pants and aimed it at the bowl. With a sigh he emptied his bladder into the bowl, wiped his cock dry on my hair and sat the bowl down in front of me. "Now stick your mouth into that bowl and suck up every drop of my piss. And you better learn to like the taste because that is all you will ever get to drink again."

I did as he directed. It was all I could do to keep from bringing it back up. I looked up from my knees to Alice to find out what she wanted from me next. She addressed me, "Okay I think you have a small idea of where you stand in this household. You are lower than shit on the bottom of a boot. You will do what you are told and when you are told. If someone wants to use you in any way, you will oblige them. Am I crystal clear?"

"Yes, Alice, I understand."

"From now on you will address me as Mistress and you will address my husband as Master. Any other female you come in contact with you will address as Madam or Ma-am and any other male as Sir. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress, that is clear."

"Ok, I am done with you for the day. Go out the back door and you will find a small cottage. It hasn't been used for some time so you may want to open all the windows and the door to air it out. It has it's own running water and toilet and shower, so you will not have to enter this house again for anything. Oh, I almost forgot to mention it but there is no hot water tank so you need to get used to taking cold showers. 

I will set a case of dog food out on the back porch along with your bowl. Every morning and every evening you will feed one can to Rusty and wait until her finishes eating. If he leaves anything uneaten in the bowl you will lick that clean and then open a can of dog food for yourself. Make sure that the bowl is empty and licked clean. You will not be allowed to eat any other food. And just in case you get the idea of dumping out your food or disposing of it in some way, there are cameras installed all over the property. You will be under constant surveillance. Any infractions of the rules will cause Chelsea to be severely punished. And of course we will supply you with a fresh jug of piss. You can drink as much as you like, but you are required to drink two full bowls each day. Don't even think of trying to get water in your mouth when you take a shower. Now, go get your hut in order so that you can get some sleep. You are going to need your strength.




Betrayed by My Best Friend



I went out back and found the cottage she mentioned. True to her word, when I opened the door I was assaulted by a moldy disgusting smell. I left the door open and went and opened the two small windows on either side of the main room. I noticed that there were no light fixtures of any kind so anything that I was going to do in that cabin would have to be done during the day. 

I looked around and found a small closet. Inside there was an old fashioned broom and a mop pail. Taking the broom I began sweeping the cobwebs that seemed to hang from every corner of the room. When I was reasonably sure that the main room was clear of spiders, I opened the door to what I figured was the bedroom.

It was a room that could be used to sleep I guess. It had an old thin mattress in the corner on the dirt floor. There were no sheets or pillows so I knew that I would not be getting any comfortable sleep for as long as I was here. I looked for the shower that she said was part of the deal but I did not find one. Only when I went out the door and around back did I see a pipe with a showerhead attached out in the open. If I used that as a shower I would be in plain sight of anyone that passed by. I had no watch or any other way of telling time but I could tell from the way the light was fading that it was late in the evening. 

Not wanting to miss my assignment, I found the dog food, opened a can and called Rusty. He came wagging his tail and rubbing up against my leg as he started to eat. He cleaned the dish quite thoroughly but I got down on my knees and licked it clean regardless. I then open a second can and put it in the bowl and began eating.

"Well, look at that, Mel. The Mistress has got herself another dog. Doesn't she look good eating out of that bowl? And look they left her a jug of tea. Isn't that nice of them. Maybe I'll have a little drink of that myself."

He walked over and picked up the jug, lifted the lid and started to pour a little into his mouth, when he abruptly spit it out and gagged. "Jesus Christ, Mel, that ain't no tea. That is piss."

"Really, is that for you to drink Miss?"

"Yes, sir, I am allowed two cans of dog food a day and all the piss I can drink. But I would be happy to share with you if you would like?"

The man walked over to me and backhanded me across the face. I fell to the floor and he kicked me in the stomach with his rubber boot.

"No fucking piss drinking slut is going to speak to me like that. Now get up on your knees and open your mouth." I did as I was told and he unbuttoned his fly and took out his cock. He aimed it straight at my mouth and began to unleash his flow. He must not have urinated for some time because my stomach was full and sloshing by the time he stopped. 

"What do you think, Mel, should we give the little whore a good fucking before we retire?"

"Sure why not," Mel said. "Get down on your hands and knees and spread your legs, cunt."

I did as he said and he quickly got on his knees behind me and speared his cock into my pussy with no lubrication. The pain was incredible as I was stretched and torn by being dry-fucked. Fortunately he did not have a lot of stamina and soon shot his load deep inside me. He pulled out, walked around in front of me and shoved his wet slimy cock into my face and told me to clean it. I opened my mouth and began licking starting from the base to the head. The smell was disgusting and I soon learned that these guys did not spend a lot of time on hygiene. I was not even finished with him when his friend positioned himself behind me and rammed his cock into my asshole. I felt it tear and blood begin to flow as he pounded in and out. 

I was crying profusely and a small scream escaped my mouth when all of a sudden the attack stopped. I couldn't quite believe that these two would cease before they had emptied their balls but then I heard the low growl coming from behind me. I turned my head and saw the most wonderful sight. Rusty was approaching the men with his teeth bared and a snarl coming out of his throat. Well those guys took off without even fastening their flies. Rusty followed for just a few feet and then turned and came back to me. He put his big head against my shoulder. I just grabbed his head and held him tight against me for the longest time feeling happy that I had finally found a friend in this hostile place.

I crawled into the hut and flopped down on the old mattress and fell almost immediately asleep. I was so exhausted that even though I was cold and miserable I did not wake up until I felt a rubber boot kick me in the ass. Just a small amount of light was coming in through the window so I figured it was early morning. Sleep did not want to leave me so I tried to curl up in a ball and close my eyes. Then the boot kicked me even harder. And a big hand grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to my feet.

"It is time to go to work cunt. There is a lot of horseshit to shovel and I am told that you are the one assigned to shovel it. I will give you 15 minutes to eat your dog food and drink a bowl of piss and then you better be ready for work."

I hadn't been told anything about my work assignment but I had been told that I was to obey anyone that ordered me to do something. So I dished a bowl of food for Rusty and gave him a call. When he did not show up, I got down on my knees and ate it myself and licked the bowl clean. I then poured a full bowl of piss and lapped it up.

I made my way to the stables and found two wheelbarrows waiting beside a large pile of horse dung. A pitchfork stood against the wall. I did not have to be a genius to figure out what I was supposed to do so I picked up the fork and started filling the wheelbarrows with dung. As soon as one of the barrows was filled one of the men would come and wheel it out of the stables and I would begin working on filling the second. Before the second was filled the first had returned. This went on for the entire course of the day and I was filthy and exhausted when they finally told me I could quit.

I limped back to my shack, with every muscle in my body screaming for me to stop and lay down. I did not even have the energy to wash or eat. I just flopped down on the old mattress and closed my eyes.

When I awoke the next morning to the kick of a rubber-toed boot, I noticed that about half of the dog food was missing. Apparently Alice and her husband had decided that I was not competent enough to feed their dog. Or perhaps the novelty had worn off. I stumbled outside and got under the shower and turned the ice-cold water onto my aching body. It did not work as well as a nice hot bath would have but it did revive me enough so that I could stretch and move.

I thought of eating a bowl of dog food but my stomach just would not allow me to nor could I bring myself to drink any more piss. As sorry as I was for any pain I might cause Chelsea, my mind and body were telling me that enough was enough.

I went back into the shack and lay back down on the mattress. If they wanted me to work today, they would have to physically drag me out to that stable. But no one came and I was allowed to rest. I lay there all day and all night and no one bothered with me. When I finally got up off that mattress, I again went outside, turned on the water and allowed it to run over my skin. In an outright act of rebellion, I turned my face up and allowed the cold water to run into my mouth. I drank until I was sated.

Late that afternoon, Alice came out and told me that she was almost finished with me. I just had one more party to attend and then I could go home, if I had a home to go to. She led me into the house and took me into a guest bathroom where a hot bubble bath was already prepared. She helped me in and allowed me to soak until the water was just about cold. She then told me to wash and dry my hair and even gave me an electric toothbrush and told me to use as much toothpaste as I needed to get my mouth cleaned out.

I figured that the worst was now over and I looked forward to being released. I did not know if Bill would accept me back or not, but just being able to leave this place would be a blessing. In the worst-case scenario, I knew where there was a woman's shelter that I could sleep at for a few nights. And, they would even provide me with clean food and water. 

When I was finally cleaned and dried and several days of scum removed from my teeth, I went out into the main room. There on the bed was another French Maid's uniform including the normal skimpy undergarments. Without hesitation I started to get dressed. After spending several day totally naked and wallowing in horse dung putting on nylon and satin garments was like a trip to the pearly gates. Only when I saw the shoes did I have second thoughts. The heels were a good 6 inches and came down to a pencil thin point. I knew that walking in them was going to be difficult and I suspected I would be required to serve wearing them as well. But the thought that this was my last night in hell brought me some consolation and so I slipped my feet into the shoes and inspected myself in the long mirror on the closet door. I was shocked to see how gaunt and wrinkled my face was and I noticed that I had lost so much weight that the skin on my arms was sagging. I knew that my recovery time was going to be long once I was free. 

Alice came in and gave me a once over and smiled. God, you look like hell. I doubt that anyone is going to want to fuck you tonight, or anytime soon for that matter. She attached my collar and instructed me that I was going to be serving the guests tonight much as I had the first night that I arrived here. She then led me out into the large hall that she used for parties and pointed me to the serving trays. As I made my way around the room, I heard many comments about how bad I looked and how Alice had obviously worked me over. 

It was late in the evening and my feet were killing me when Alice stepped to the microphone and asked if there was anyone here that wanted to fuck my worthless cunt. One man actually stood up and said, "I don't know, her cunt was nice and tight the other night when I fucked her, but she looks so old and used that I don't think I could get it up. Maybe if you threw a flag over her head I could fuck for old glory.

"Well, her cunt won't be tight when I get through with it tonight. When I am finished not even a stallion's cock would brush her sides. Get over here and lay down in the middle of the concrete floor, bitch."

I was terrified of what she was going to do, but I knew I had little option at refusal. If I tried to move away she would just hit the button on my shocking collar and bring me to my knees. And as I looked around the room I did not see one sympathetic face that my come to my aid. In fact most of them, particularly the women, had a look of lust as if they could not wait for the entertainment to begin. So I walked to the center of the concrete floor, but before, I laid down, Alice removed my dress and panties and bra. She left the garters, stockings and heels on me. She then pointed to the hard concrete and I got down carefully and spread out on my back. 

She took a long length of rope and tied my wrists together and pulled them out away from my head and secured them to a ring in the floor. I could not see what she was doing as she temporarily raised my legs and hips from the floor, but from the oohs and aahs of the crowd I figured it could not be good.

She then lowered my legs and tied another length of rope to my left ankle and stretched it as far as she could and tied it off. She repeated the process with my right ankle so I was spread so far that I thought my pelvis would split in two.

Then I heard a woman ask. "What are those huge fish hooks for?"

"Why to separate her cunt lips with. Who wants the privilege of shoving them through her cunt lips for me? Perhaps one of the gentlemen would volunteer. I hear it takes a lot of pressure to force even a sharp needle through that tough skin."

Several men volunteered and so Alice chose four of them and told each one to attach the hooks to my lips. She was right; it did take a lot of muscle to get those hooks completely through but after a few agonizing minutes they succeeded. Alice then told them to take the other end of the line and pull as hard as they could until my cunt lips were pulled as far open as they could get.

I was screaming by the time they finally tied off the other ends of the fishing line to rings in the floor. I was stretched so tight that even if she had released my hands and feet I would not have been able to move from that spot without tearing the hooks from my body.

"Oh, doesn't she look so nice and helpless like that. Let's leave her to relax for a few minutes and then I will perform a feat that even I am not sure can be done."

She was gone for quite a while and then I heard her returning laughing and joking with her friends, but something was not quite the same as it was when she left for as she stepped onto the cement I heard the unmistakable sound of extremely high heels clicking on the concrete. When she reached me she stood directly by my face and lifted on foot over my eyes. 

"How do you like my nice pointed toed boots?" she asked me. "I put them on just for you so I hope you are appreciative of that fact. She lowered her foot to my mouth and told me to lick her soles to show my gratitude.

Well, I had no idea what I had to be grateful for but I had little choice in the matter, so I stuck out my tongue and let her drag the sole of her boots across it. She seemed to tire of that game quickly and she walked down along the side of my body and positioned herself between my legs facing me.

"Now, for the challenge," she announced. "I have always wanted to see if I could push my booted foot all the way inside a cunt until the pussy lips nestle up against my heel."

I then knew what she had in mind and I started begging, "For the love of God, please don't do this. You will tear my insides out. Please, dear God, please have mercy."

"There will be no mercy tonight. I don't know if it will tear your inside out but if so, so be it. I have heard though that a cunt will stretch a mile before it tears and inch so let's get started and find out."

She pressed the sharp toe of her boot against the stretched opening of my vagina and began to push. It was tough going, as there was little or no lubricant to work with. But she just kept pushing and soon a little of the toe was inside me. And then no matter how hard she tried she could not gain any traction.

"I am going to need a little help here. Maybe someone could help me push."

"I have a better idea," a male voice spoke up. How hard is the back of your boots"

"Fairly hard right where they meet the sole. What do you have in mind?"

"I thought if it would not hurt you I could kick the back of your boot. That might force it inside her."

"Go ahead and give it a try but not too hard the first time."

And then I felt a terrible jolt to my pelvic area and I felt the boot slide a good inch or two inside me.

"Oh, wonderful that is working. My boot slid a good two inches, do it again harder."

I felt another jolt and then another and then another as he just kept kicking the back of her boot. I felt my pussy lips being compressed and I knew she had reached the point she sought.

"Oh, this is such a wonderful feeling," Alice declared. "It is like stepping on sponge rubber. Watch me put all my weight down. Now see me grind from side to side. Oh, I so love this."

I was screaming so hard that even Alice got tired of hearing me and had someone stuff an old rag in my mouth. And then I heard another woman ask Alice if she could have a turn.

Alice replied, "I don't see why not, let me pull my boot out and you get ready to insert yours. I do notice your foot is quite a lot wider than mine but I am sure she will stretch that far."

Alice stepped down with all her weight and then began sliding her boot back out. She took her time, knowing that she was doing almost as much damage to me on the way out as she did on the way in. 

And just when she had removed her boot completely and stepped back another boot replaced it and with considerable effort and more kicking soon was nestled fully inside me. I knew that I was bleeding profusely and was hoping that perhaps I would bleed to death. And then that boot was pulled from my channel. 

"She is bleeding really badly, Alice," someone said. "I am afraid she might bleed out if we don't do something."

"I have it covered." She said. "I mixed a bottle of rubbing alcohol with powdered alum. The alcohol will disinfect the wound and the alum will cauterize it. Tip her up so I can fill her with the mixture. My look at that hole, I will not even need a funnel. And then she started pouring and I screamed into the gag until I passed out.

I have no idea how long they left me unconscious but eventually someone apparently held a swab of ammonia under my nose to revive me.

"How are you feeling, cunt? I hope you enjoyed having your cunt stretched wide open. I doubt that any man will want to use you for quite some time. And now I am going to make sure that you will never again enjoy intercourse."

I heard a woman's voice ask, "How are you going to do that, Alice?"

"Well, it is hard for a woman to have an orgasm if she does not have a clit. So I am going to remove hers. Now before I get started I have a small branding iron being heated by a butane torch. When it is red-hot let me know and with the help of my husband we will trim this whores clit off tight to her body."

"It is red-hot," someone yelled. "I am bringing it to you now."

"Now, dear if you would take those needle nosed pliers and grab on to her clit and pull it out as far as you can from her slit. That is it, nice and tight. Now I am going to take this old pair of diagonal cutters and snip it nice and close. Notice everyone how I have put the jaws on either side of her clit. Now I am going to close them but not until they start to bite into flesh. I am now going to push them down as hard as I can so that I get every little bit of her button. There that is it, now I just need to squeeze really hard. I am taking my time so that she gets to feel it slowly cutting through her flesh. I want her to really enjoy the sensation because she will never again feel anything when that area is massaged. What nerves aren't destroyed when I cut the flap off will be when I cauterize the wound. There finally, look at how close I cropped that thing. Does anyone want it for a souvenir?"

I did not hear the answer because when she put that hot iron to my bleeding flesh I passed out. 

I did not wake up until mid morning the following day. And only then because Alice had used her ammonia to revive me.

"Ok, slut, time to rise and shine. Your mother is going to come pick you up today, but you might as well make yourself useful in the meantime. I want you out to the stables shoveling horseshit when she comes. I want her to see you at your very best.

I still wore my collar and she pressed the button to make me jump to her command. I could hardly walk because of the intense pain both inside my vaginal cavity and where she had cauterized my clit. But I managed to get to the pile of manure and with every ounce of strength I had began to shovel it onto a wheelbarrow.

I had not been working long when I heard Alice greet my mother and then heard Norma say, "Dear lord, you warned me what a mess she is but I really didn't believe she could fall this far. Look at your mother Chelsea. What are we ever going to do with her?"

I stared to where the voices were coming from and saw my daughter approaching along side my mother. I said. Chelsea when did they release you?"