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Fifty Hours per Week Ch. 01

By: CalDreamer



The Beginning

Driving west, Harold and Helen Yodersohn had left behind all they knew, the adjacent towns of their conservative religious community. Isolated, they knew the surrounding world only indirectly and not very well. The Latter-day Puritans had a 19th-century feel with conservatively dressed women and healthy hard-working men. The couple had fit in well, accepting the dominance of Holy Leader.

When it came time to marry, Holy Leader made all the decisions. He introduced Harold to Helen, and that was that. Harold had admired her from afar for years, but they had never spoken or even gotten close. He was quite pleased, for his stranger/bride had a bright round face, an enchanting turned-up nose, average height and long auburn hair. The rest of her body was permanently hidden under her traditional full-length dress. She looked down modestly during their entire first meeting, lifting her head only when Holy Leader demanded it. Of her personality, likes and dislikes, skills and needs Harold knew nothing. He was handsome enough, about the same height as Helen, with the full beard required of the community's males.

Their wedding was a simple affair, mostly hymns and warnings from Holy Leader. On their wedding night they got all the sex education they would ever get, as Holy Leader performed the marital consecration. He stripped the new Mrs. Yodersohn naked in her new husband's presence, laid her flat on her back, and had his way with her while giving minimal explanations of what was going on. Harold was astonished at Helen's body - full breasts, soft thighs, generously rounded hips. He had never seen anything so beautiful, that would soon be his to touch and caress. But first Holy Leader did the touching and caressing. Helen looked helplessly at her new husband while it happened; he was strongly aroused by the deflowering of his bride, watching her involuntary sexual responses and feeling his own. He knew deep down that something was wrong about Holy Leader's intercourse with a married woman, but he accepted the custom. The intercourse was painful for Helen, physically and emotionally, but it didn't last long. Harold had a painfully stiff erection the whole time.

After the marital consecration they were free to live together as man and wife. As a result of this custom about a fifth of the community's firstborns were Holy Leader's, raised obediently by married couples who passively accepted this and much else.

Having discovered talents in a specialized branch of software engineering, Harold was able to bring a good salary working from home. Computers do exactly what they are instructed to do, no more and no less, so Harold got along with them comfortably, perhaps better than he got along with most people. Before long he got an unsolicited offer for a much better salary, but it would require a move to California. Realizing that Harold's tithe would enrich his struggling community, Holy Leader allowed him to go, but only if he paid a tithe for Helen too. So Harold obediently promised 20% of his salary, still allowing a comfortable living for the couple. Fortunately Helen wasn't pregnant.

Moving was a harrowing experience for the couple, without the guiding hand of Holy Leader to make decisions. They found a modest house in a town in the high desert; after a period of disorientation, then orientation, then organization, life became routine. Gradually they accommodated to California life, helped by establishing a rigid routine. Bored with staying at home, Helen found a job as a bookkeeper, trading what she called just a dress but what her coworkers called a granny dress for more stylish but still-conservative skirts and blouses. Harold shaved his beard after being teased about it. Yet, accustomed to the dominating presence of Holy Leader, they felt at loose ends, drifting. Weekends were specially hard, free time without duties or commitments. They were fortunate to have found real love for each other, but at a deep level they both craved order, the submission to a dominant individual that they had always known. The new-age sorts of churches they found in their town didn't do the job.

Their lives changed again when Harold, still stiff and awkward among his more casual coworkers, got some advice from a particularly astute young woman. He found this new friend, Sheila, uncomfortably attractive, a petite well-built blonde who seemed to specialize in low-cut scoop tops. He couldn't resist staring into that low-cut scoop with its subtly shifting contents, but Sheila didn't seem to mind. The way she moved, perhaps she liked it. They had begun talking innocently around the water cooler when Harold found himself confessing his discomfort. Sheila gave him a close hug of sympathy, mashing her breasts into his chest while he stood awkwardly, hands at his sides. She told him of an acquaintance who might enforce order in their lives. Interested but cautious, Harold asked a lot of questions, receiving mostly vague answers, but he felt that this might be what he and his wife needed. Sheila set up a meeting at a restaurant, neutral territory.

Bradley Townsend III welcomed his guests with his booming voice. Just as they had sat down he ordered them to stand. They stood. Then he ordered them to sit again. They sat. Without asking he ordered for all three of them; Sheila had already told him more about what the submissive couple needed than they knew about themselves. Nothing was said as each read the body language of the others. After eating in suspenseful silence, Brad was blunt and direct. 

"I have a proposal for you, take it or leave it, no negotiations. For fifty hours each week, from eight pm on Friday until ten pm on Sunday, I will own you - you will obey me without question, do whatever I ask, no matter how extreme or uncomfortable. At other times you can lead your lives as you like, but during those fifty hours you will submit to my will completely. I will have the right to assign this authority to others. If you accept this offer, no further decisions on your parts are possible. Come to my home at 8:00 this Friday to begin this relationship. Be punctual."

Harold and Helen sat dumfounded, unable to finish their desserts, staring wide-eyed at Brad. Feeling an unfamiliar stirring at her crotch, Helen knew that she had to accept Brad's offer/demand. Having been straight-laced all her life, she sensed aspects of life that were new and unsettling, but exciting. She felt a strange compulsion to expand her narrow world. Later she discussed it with her husband, who particularly craved order and control - his wife needed to accept for different reasons, reasons that she couldn't admit even to herself. 

"Well, what do you think, Helen? We do need some order in our lives. I feel uncomfortable without a steady hand to make decisions."

"I think we need to expose ourselves to new experiences. I didn't have any idea until we got here how restricted our lives were before. We would lose control, though. Suppose he asks us to do things we don't want to do?"

"That's what submission is all about, dear. If he demands things that make you uncomfortable, you'll have to go along, and I will too. It's what puts structure back into our lives."

It was for the best, they both agreed.

The First Weekend

At precisely 8:00 on Friday the submissive couple rang the doorbell at a large house in a town about half an hour from theirs. After an uncomfortably long wait, when they almost lost their nerve and bolted, the door opened and Brad towered over them. Commanding them to come in, he elaborated on the required agreement. They were forbidden to speak even to each other during the 'negotiation' process. He laid a written contract before them. All their needs would be provided for during their fifty hours of submission each week, but a lot would be required. Pages of fine print specified that they would be clothed as Brad saw fit. They were to address him as 'sir' when others were present and 'master' when they were not. No money would be exchanged in either direction. They would be strictly trained in submissive behavior, a requirement that sent a stir through Harold, realizing that the religious services he had participated in all his life were always submissive behavior. To God? To the Latter-day Pilgrims? Or just to Holy Leader? It didn't matter now.

Helen read further than her husband. By now in a haze of desire, submission and fear, she read an assurance that any required piercings would be in areas covered by a normal 2-piece bathing suit, and birth control was required. Restraint was allowed. Was it too much? Nothing could be too much. Brad was laying it all out - could they accept such a brazen offer from this virtual stranger? Yet Sheila had recommended him, practically demanded that they submit to this man. They knew they had to do it. After an unaccustomed stiff drink that Brad offered, they looked at each other and signed.

Immediately Brad's tone changed. Becoming the patient instructor, he began coaching them on submissive postures and gestures, rules and demands. Sitting on the floor on their heels, heads down, hands in lap, was required of both. Helen was given a second posture as well, sitting on her heels but leaning back, straight arms behind her on the floor supporting her body at an angle, chest pushed forward, knees apart. She blushed, having to lift her skirt to spread far enough to satisfy her master, but of course she complied. After all, they had an agreement. She felt the insides of her thighs burning with the exposure, while Brad and Harold could see her ample breasts straining against her simple cotton blouse. Brad grabbed Helen's head from behind and drew her in to a rough kiss, which she couldn't prevent. Harold was instructed to go into the kitchen and pour wine for all three of them; while he was gone, Brad matter-of-factly removed Helen's blouse, leaving her in her accustomed, industrial-strength bra that hid a clearly impressive pair of breasts. Harold returned, shocked to see his wife so exposed but making no effort to cover herself. Yet something about the situation was deeply satisfying; order was being imposed from the outside.

After further instruction on proper behavior, Brad showed them a back stairway that was formerly for servants, leading them to a tiny bedroom with a slanting ceiling under the eaves. Sheets and blankets were in a closet. They were to sleep naked, something unaccustomed for them. That was a revelation, head-to-toe skin-to-skin contact. Why had they never tried that before? They began to realize how much they had missed in their repressive upbringing.

The next day Brad took his submissives shopping. Helen got a few nice dresses, some with interesting features. One had a very low-cut neckline, finished in a stretchy material. She liked the way her breasts bounced when she tried it on, though she would have been embarrassed to admit it. An expensive strapless number had panels covering her breasts; they could be folded down to reveal a red satin lining below her nipples. She thought that one quite wicked. A short wispy black dress was a bit tight over Helen's bra and panties, but Brad assured her that wouldn't be a problem. A hidden front zipper allowed the slit in the skirt to extend all the way to her waist. Guessing what this was about, she felt a tingling in her crotch, unfamiliar but exciting. 

The guessing about the nature of their relationship ended when they visited an out-of-the-way shop specializing in a particular kind of lingerie. Brad picked out several diaphanous bras, including two that were open at the nipple, and one that consisted only of lacy straps outlining where a bra would be. Panties varied from bikini to just a strap around the hips and a narrow band of sheer fabric through the crotch, and another pair with an open crotch. Neither of them had suspected that such things existed. Brad insisted that Helen leave the dressing room and return wearing a very sheer bra and panties. When she protested that she wasn't 'decent', Brad informed her without raising his voice that that would be the last time that she hesitated in obeying his command. Quickly she scampered out, murmuring "Sorry master, um, yes sir..."

Instinctively Helen attempted to hide herself with her hands; Brad folded her arms behind her back, which pressed her breasts forward. Of course she complied, blushing and biting her lower lip. Finally it was happening - he was forcing her to behave in a wicked manner, but it was his demand, so she could excuse her behavior to herself. She found that strangely satisfying. A salesgirl came from behind her counter to look; a few men shopping for their women lingered in the background. Harold was so astonished that he failed to hide the expansion at his crotch. Helen's visible nipples, hard and extended, betrayed her arousal. Her dark pubic hair, clear to everyone, was darkening further with dampness; as Brad spread her knees a little further, a pink slit opened. Unconsciously she strained to push her chest further forward. It was now obvious how large and supple her breasts were. Her eyes began to tear, but she turned on Brad's command and shook her shoulders when he demanded it. After a few minutes that seemed like hours, both to her and to Harold, Brad grasped her chin, embraced her and kissed her on the mouth. Her arms wrapped themselves around his waist as he caressed her back and half-naked bottom. She was lost in his power.

"I'm glad you like me this way, sir, I'm so exposed but that's what you want."

Finally Brad sent her back to the dressing room with one more item. She emerged in bands of soft green fabric around her torso and behind her neck, meeting at her breasts, and a bikini bottom riding barely above her crotch. The suit featured small rings that could be moved along the bunched-up material, exposing more or less skin. Brad adjusted the rings on either side of each breast so that only the thinnest band remained over her nipples. He pulled the rings on the neckband down nearly to her nipples. Brad told her (and everyone else listening) that he liked the pink exposure of her large halos; it gave the suit a sexual edge, and she was particularly lovely with most of her soft, white breast flesh exposed. He slid the rings on the bikini bottom toward the center leaving only a narrow band covering her vulva, pubic hair peeking out on both sides. She knew that she should have been humiliated and embarrassed, but in Brad's dominating presence she felt only an overwhelming submission, one that absolved her of all responsibility for what was happening. That surprised her even more than how Brad exposed her. She could do things that she would never allow herself to do without her new master. Her previous submission had been constant and low-level; here it was sharp, intense, and somehow thrilling. Harold stared at her bare hips, her slightly rounded belly, her trembling nearly uncovered breasts, and found himself stiff again. His body was preparing him for intercourse, though he knew that was impossible in those circumstances.

There were more purchases; a tux for Harold and some more scandalous things for Helen. She didn't have to try on the open-nipple bra or open-crotch panties, but she couldn't help fantasizing about when and how she would wear them. After lunch Brad drove them to a doctor's office where Helen was fitted with an IUD and both of them tested for diseases. At a specialized jewelry store they acquired some items that the couple didn't understand, but Brad hinted would decorate body parts that are normally covered. The three of them went out to dinner with Helen wearing the stretchy low-cut dress, sandals, and nothing else. Self-conscious, Helen could see the nubs of her nipples decorating the contour of her bosom for the whole meal. Twice Brad reached over to rest his hand under her breasts and bounce them. Helen bit her lip and almost said something; it was a public place, after all. But those nubs became even sharper as she felt an unfamiliar, almost frightening sting of sensual pleasure. Her husband stared again, fascinated that his wife could be so sexually attractive.

That evening the three of them settled in to watch a video that Brad had chosen from his private collection. Brad sat Helen next to himself on his broad sofa, but Harold was given only a hard stool. He sat up straight. 

The video started with a group of men lounging around a pool. A tall well-proportioned blonde woman appeared, wearing not a bathing suit but a loose white top and a very short skirt, riding low on her hips and barely covering her crotch. She flirted with all the men, stroking their chests, accepting their kisses and brushing her breasts against them. She backed up when the men gathered together, as if knowing what to expect. The camera joined the group, facing her as she leaned over, looking up salaciously and licking her lips as her top fell open, exposing a pair of average-sized, high-riding breasts with prominent, erect nipples. Obviously she knew what they were seeing. Jumping into the pool, the woman quickly ducked underwater and came up again, shaking her long hair behind her. Her top had turned transparent, her nipples forcing folds in the diaphanous fabric. Taking advantage of this, she leaned forward and shook her shoulders to make her breasts wobble and sway. The tiny skirt had floated up while she was in the water, so she daintily held it up as she emerged right in front of the group; her audience could see everything because she wasn't wearing panties. One of the men came around behind her, reaching around to fondle the wanton woman's breasts through her soaked top, finally flipping it up so that the group could see him squeezing lovely bare breasts. She seemed to enjoy it. Repeatedly he pulled them up very high by their impossibly stretched nipples, and everyone watched them jiggle as they settled back down again. He knelt and pulled her skirt down; she didn't object, but lifted one leg to give the men a better view. Still kneeling behind her, this man firmly grabbed her outer lips and pulled, revealing an expanse of puffy pink flesh, quivering with arousal. The camera came in close.

The video paused; the submissive couple sat shocked. While it was playing Brad had removed Helen's blouse again and was gently cupping her breasts through her stiff bra. Harold was commanded to fix some drinks, while Helen had to go up to her room and change to one of her transparent bras. Both men watched her generous tits sway as she returned, Harold uncomfortable with his wife's compromised attire, Brad smiling broadly. As they downed their drinks, beginning to develop a taste for them, Brad sipped his. Helen felt her nipples stiffening, knowing that both men could see them and she couldn't cover up. That excited her, but she didn't know why.

The video continued with the woman lying on her back in front of the group of men; two of them were holding her legs up and out, exposing everything, while others fondled her breasts. The woman had no shame. 

Brad was fondling Helen's breasts again, this time feeling their softness and the contrasting sharpness of her nipples. She held her breath. No one had ever done this to her before, not Holy Leader, certainly not her husband.

The men in the video were naked now, all with obscene erect penises. One of them knelt over the woman, turned her head, and put his penis right in her mouth. She didn't even attempt to spit it out, but sucked and slid her lips along it. Another man pulled her hand to his huge, stiff penis, which she squeezed hard and stroked. The camera moved to her belly, looking up at her raised head and two distended nipples, each being fondled by a different man.

The submissive couple were astonished that any woman could submit to so many sex acts, so many men doing nasty forbidden things to her, all at once, a jumble of unimaginable licentiousness. Both of them gasped when one man slowly pressed his penis right into her vagina, with all the others watching. She was being violated, and didn't even scream. Harold felt shame at his own penis reacting. The scene shifted to the woman sitting upright, straddling the man with his penis inside her, while she sucked another one and others played with her breasts. Moaning and screaming, she bounced fiercely on the man, his long rod disappearing inside her. That must be her husband, they thought - how could he allow those others to be so familiar with her? In the next scene she stood leaning over a lounge chair, gripping its arms while another man entered her from behind. She pushed back. Wait - they can't both be her husband! He grunted and roared, withdrawing as another man took his place. When all of the men had been satisfied, the naked woman winked at the camera and sauntered off, fluids running down her thighs.


Fifty Hours per Week Ch. 01



Brad continued to brush his fingers over Helen's breasts as he asked his obedient charges what they thought. Stunned, they had difficulty believing that such things really happened. "They do, and closer to you than you think."

Harold was given away by his hard-to-hide erection, and Helen by her flushed look and erect nipples. They couldn't imagine how a woman could do those things and seem to enjoy it. They talked of penises and crotches and bare breasts, while Brad told them to their shock how good it felt to fuck a willing woman with others watching. He also noted that Helen's large breasts fit his large hands quite nicely, and he told her so. Her husband winced. Had they gotten in over their heads?

That night in their attic room, sitting on their bed, the couple discussed the sexual turn of their submission. Harold had to admit that the sexual advances that a non-submissive couple would never allow were an honest signal of their complete submission. "You can say you submit, but until there's a price it's just talk."

"But Harold, he touched my breasts, he exposed me in that shop, he made me do things I couldn't have imagined doing."

"Well, he pushed you hard, it's part of submission. I had to watch you in those situations, I couldn't do anything while he humiliated you. Do you think you can take it?"

Helen hid her face in her hands. "Dear husband, he forced me to do those things. But... but underneath I felt a thrill, a jolt I've never felt before, it was almost intoxicating. Even while I was shivering and sobbing, I felt it. I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. What should I do?"

A thrill ran through Harold, one that he couldn't admit even to himself. "We're committed now. It's for the best. After all, we have an agreement."

It took a long time for them to get to sleep.

On Sunday morning the submissives were required to serve and eat breakfast in their underwear, Helen in her most transparent, tiny bra and panties. Her breasts wobbled and shook enticingly. Maybe they wobbled just a bit more than they had to as she walked and leaned over. Brad told his new charges that they needed some vocabulary lessons. He demanded that they use the 4-letter words you can't say on television, plus a few more, and made them practice until they could report that the woman in the video fucked all the men, and sucked their cocks, and flaunted her ass and tits and even her cunt, pussy, twat. They forced themselves to say the words.

In the afternoon the couple was allowed behind Brad's house for the first time. Immediately they recognized his pool from the shocking video. "Those things happened right here, master, at your home?" Harold stammered, hardly believing that such things could happen where they were voluntarily captive.

"That and more", Brad replied casually. "You still have some surprises in store."

They spent the hot afternoon swimming. Helen felt exposed in her new green bikini. After a while Brad stripped and demanded that Helen take off her top - it was so tiny that it didn't cover much, but it was still a symbolic modesty. He told her frankly that he wanted to see her tits. She hesitated for only a second before reaching behind and unclipping it, turning away as it fell from her breasts. Biting her lower lip, she folded her hands behind her back in one of her submissive postures and bravely turned toward her master, showing him her hard nipples and bare breasts for the first time. Both men enjoyed watching them bounce and sway as she swam and dove. Later Brad demanded that she to recline on her back, near the scene of the infamous video, and he reclined next to her, casually fingering her nipples. She stiffened, but resisted the urge to push him away. After a while she didn't want to push him away. He worked his way down to her cunt, now so named, and gently stroked up and down through her moist suit. She looked up at him and spread her legs while her husband watched, horrified but fascinated. Brad directed her hand to his large flaccid cock, instructing her on how to squeeze and stroke it. She had never done anything like that before, not even in private, not even with Harold. Her face and torso flushed red - was it from the heat?

Abruptly Brad terminated their session, announcing that he was expecting a guest. They dressed and arrived in the living room just before a lanky gentleman arrived, accompanied by a tall blonde woman with high, delicate breasts and a willowy figure. Helen was required to wear one of her dresses with a see-through top, which she thought rather bold but could not question, but their blonde guest wore even less - she took off her jacket to reveal a sheer black dress made from the same material as women's stockings, with a stripe of decorative lace along each side; everyone could see her surprisingly prominent nipples, and her protruding cunt. Brad seemed unsurprised, though his submissive guests were shocked twice: Once at the blonde's daring dress, and again when they recognized her as the woman in the pornographic video! 

Brad introduced everyone: "John and Branwyn, these are my new submissives, Harold and Helen. Helen is the one with the great boobs."

Everyone laughed except Harold. "Slaves, this is my wife." A third shock. The woman who had fucked all those other men was his wife, and with all his dominant authority he didn't stop them? 

"And John is a friend of mine. So, Branwyn, how was your weekend?"

"Oh, it was really hot, sir. John took good care of me, and his friends did too. He even organized a party for me. His basement is fixed up for girls like me, and he had 4 of his friends over, I was the only girl."

"Sounds interesting. John, what happened at the party?"

"Well, it got a bit wild, naturally. Bran was still wearing the outfit you sent her over in, the vinyl miniskirt and jacket with the matching bra and panties that have zippers where it counts. We all had some drinks and some flirting, then we tied her wrists to a hook in my ceiling, you know the spot, and we took turns pulling down zippers, exposing her. We demanded that she choose who would approach her, and what they should do. Soon we stripped her naked, and we all had a taste of her tits and her smooth ass and her wet slit. She would have stood there without the restraint; that just made it easier for us to get at her exposed body without her getting tired."

"Sounds like you all had a good time. What happened then, Bran? As if I didn't know..."

"Well, master, they took one of my legs and lifted it as far as it would go, then they tied my ankle and looped the rope over the same hook in the ceiling. They could see my cunt all opened up, I felt so exposed, but it was exciting. They took off their clothes, it seemed they all had big cocks, or maybe they were just erect. John came up to me and forced his cock inside me, just like that, with all the other guys watching. I moaned and hung on my ropes, I couldn't stop him. He invited two of the other guys up to maul my tits while he fucked me hard. He released inside me, I could feel his hot fluid fill up my pussy. Then Ray took me. He had to bend his legs to get into me, he's so tall, he shook my whole body on every stroke. Then he pushed up really far, and I could feel his cock pulsing. I convulsed and came, right in front of all of them. It was so intense. Then the other three fucked me, no break. I was a mess, I was shaking. They took me down and laid me on my back on John's big bed. They surrounded me and slapped me, mostly on my boobs and my belly, and the insides of my thighs."

"Did it hurt?"

"Well, it did, but you know I need that, it's part of the experience. I didn't resist or try to cover myself. Then came the best part. They tied me to the corners of John's big bed, and stuck little fine pins in my nipples and the red halos of my boobs. That stung, but boy, it got me going. Somebody put a pillow under my ass to lift my cunt up, nice of them, and they clipped little chains on the rings in my pussy lips, and clipped the chains to weights that hung over the sides of the bed. My pussy was completely open, all stretched out. John leaned over me and kissed my clit and slid his big cock along my open slit; I had to beg him to put it in. Trevor forced his cock way down my throat. I came again, I couldn't help it. A couple of them ran their hands over my boobs - that hurt a lot, but you know how sensitive my nipples are, I nearly came again right there. Then Brad, they all fucked me senseless for the rest of the night, one after another, no letup. I must have come a dozen times. I screamed a lot. You know how I need that, it takes me a long time to come, but once I start I can't stop."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed your little indiscretion," Brad replied dryly.

The submissives didn't know what they would have said, if they had been allowed to say anything at all. But Brad demanded that they react. All they could do was stammer about how they couldn't believe that people did things like that, wasn't she terrified when they, um fucked her, wasn't it painful, they hoped it wouldn't happen to her again. Branwyn assured them that it was all voluntary, it would happen again, and what's more, they might be forced to take part. Helen felt that tingling again, against her will. A small wet spot appeared on Harold's pants.

Brad admonished, "You two have to learn how we take life by the horns, and revel in it."

John stayed for dinner, with the slaves serving but made to eat in the kitchen. Branwyn, sitting between the two men, invited them to fondle her tits through her sheer dress between courses. Harold had to wear his tux, and served the food, but Helen served only the drinks and desserts. After mulling things over, Brad made her change into her open-tit bra and transparent bikini panties, with a little wraparound miniskirt over them. Brad pointed out that this was the first time that Helen's tits were exposed to more than Harold and himself; John chuckled that it wouldn't be the last. Helen blushed, but her nipples stiffened when they required her to lean over the table right opposite John. Brad asked Harold to remove her little skirt; he obeyed without hesitation, and Helen was required to show the group her submissive postures, of course displaying everything in the process. John asked her if this was the first time she had shown her cunt and ass to others, even through her sheer panties, and she stammered that it was. Branwyn remarked that it was a very nice cunt, and she was sure they all would make good use of it. She also envied the slave's breasts - "They're so much bigger and fuller than mine. You can do so much with boobs like that."

After dinner the two men settled into a long couch in Brad's spacious living room. Brad suggested that they have some fun with his new submissive's body, and John agreed to help out. Harold sat on his hard stool again while the two doms discussed the things they would do with Helen as though she weren't even there, even though she was made to sit before them in her arms-back submissive posture, her boobs hanging to each side. Harold shifted uncomfortably on his stool, forbidden to speak about the liberties they were about to take with his beloved wife. Finally they decided on the board.

Branwyn interrupted, "The board, Brad? You mean the one in the library? Do you think she's ready?"

"Did you notice how she squirms when we discuss these things?"

So Branwyn escorted their new submissive into the library and stripped her naked, enjoying the role of guiding this ingŽnue into the life of depravity that had consumed her for the past two years. She told Helen how good it felt to get felt up and fucked by several men at a time, how submission to men's sexual appetites pushed her limits but held 'awesome' rewards.

"Listen, I know all this is a little scary, and it's happening so fast. They make it fast to keep you off balance. I've been through it, it's an emotional roller coaster. When you come out the other end you'll be a different person, secure and well cared for, but definitely under Brad's thumb. It's a good thumb, he'll take good care of you. He'll use you, but you'll get so much back, feelings and thrills that you could never get anywhere else. Rough sex is like a drug, once you're addicted you can't go back."

"Branwyn, thanks so much for caring about me. It is a bit overwhelming. I'm scared but I want it so much. I don't know why. A lot of it shocks me. I wasn't brought up to do the things Brad's making me do, I've always been a respectable woman, but somehow I need it. I've only been here two days but already I can't imagine life without this. But I'm sorry, I have to ask, did you really do all those things at John's house?"

"Well, I did embellish just a bit, to keep Brad excited. He's such a little boy sometimes. John went along. So there were no needles, but most of the rest really happened. Those multiple fucks get me going like nothing else. Now I know how you feel, more than you think. But right now I have to get you ready for your erotic debut. Bad things happen when there are unexplained delays."

Though Helen had at first been horrified at what Brad's wife did and said, she was beginning to warm up to her, and tried to imagine herself doing those things. She failed, but the effort gave her that tingly feeling again. 

Branwyn got down to business, sliding a lightweight surfboard from between two bookshelves. Several feet taller than the women, it was studded with small hooks on both sides. At its center, though, a protrusion that looked like a curved black broom handle stuck up at an angle. Branwyn reclined Helen on the board, flat on her back, and had the naked woman slide down until her pussy just touched the black protrusion. 

"I'm going to have to slide you down until that black thing is firmly engaged in your pussy. I'll get some lube to help out."

Branwyn produced a tube from a library drawer, but when she touched Helen she realized that she wouldn't need much - her pussy was soaked.

"Wow, woman, you're really ready for penetration, aren't you?"

Helen stammered, "Just the thought of me going out there with that big thing in my pussy, naked, three men, my husband..."

"Ok, you little sex siren, hold still." Gently Branwyn slid her victim down onto the dildo; Helen felt some knobby protrusions on it as it slid into place. She sweated and grunted as her cunt stretched, her nipples jumped out, but she got it in.

Branwyn took some smooth ropes from another drawer and deftly tied Helen's body to the board, arms folded over her head. Several lengths secured her arms, legs and hips, and a pair of ropes came together on her belly, wrapped around each other, and were tied again on the same side. Two ropes around her ankles pulled her down to secure the black violation. The final rope looped around one breast, continued to loop around the other, and was fastened tightly on the other side. Helen looked down at her breasts, defined by those ropes. She could move only her head, her toes and her fingertips. If she had been able to move more she might have struggled; immobilized she felt helpless but secure.

As she was tying Branwyn explained to Helen that she would be presented to the men, who would do whatever they wanted with her defenseless body. The more experienced woman assured the newcomer that it would be an awesome experience, complete submission. Helen, in a near-panic, had no choice. She bit her lip and resolved to go through with it, no matter what. After all, they had an agreement. Branwyn admired Helen's curvy body, then covered her from neck to thighs with a light cloth, a symbolic gesture at modesty, and with a long rope pulled the board with its passenger out to the waiting men. The polished board slid easily on the carpet.

The two women got appreciative looks from the three men. Branwyn still in her transparent 'dress' sat on the edge of the low fireplace hearth, demurely resting her legs at an angle the way women do, while the men admired their prize.

"She really does have a great pair of tits," John remarked. "Harold, pull that cloth down to just above her nipples."

Harold obeyed, stooping down and looking up at the two dominant men. Helen was breathing fast, her breasts heaving.

"Beautiful," Brad commented. "I like the curve of her breasts. Now pull her lower hem up to just below her pussy. We want your wife to anticipate her unveiling."

The two men discussed the curve of Helen's thighs, the flaring out of her hips, the little birthmark in her left armpit. If this was intended to get her self-conscious, it was working. 

"Now, Harold, we want to see your wife's tits. Pull the cloth down."

"Yes sir." His hands shaking, Harold complied, looking down at his wife's erect nipples and then up at his masters. But this particular sort of submission, offering up his wife's body, excited him in other ways as well.

John added, 'I think it's time to see her naked. Harold, show us your wife's cunt."

"Yes sir, of course, sir."

Harold jumped back, startled at the black thing, thicker than a penis, securely stuffed up his wife's cunt. Her pussy lips bulged out on each side. Brad smiled. "Isn't that a great touch, John? I had it installed last week."

"Ingenious, Brad. It makes her more than naked. Helen, is this the first time your bare cunt has been exposed to other men?"

"Yes sir", she stammered. She didn't mention that long-ago time with Holy Leader.

Brad said that it was time to feel up Helen's body. He directed Harold to the head of her board and Branwyn to its foot, and had them lift the bound slave to deposit her before the two men, each end of the board resting on an arm of the couch. John sat at her crotch, Brad at her tits. The two dug in with relish, first brushing her arms and legs with long strokes, then her sides, and finally her pussy and tits respectively. Harold was ordered to assume the submissive posture on the floor opposite his wife, forbidden to speak, but was allowed to watch what the two dominant men did to her. Brad called him 'slaveboy'. He shivered.

Brad molded one breast in both hands, changing its shape at his will, reveling in this beautiful creature who had fallen under his power. He kissed his new prize's neck and mouth while pinching both nipples; at first she didn't know what to do, but she caught on to the tongue-duel quickly. Then, still massaging, he leaned over and took a nipple into his mouth, licking and biting. Helen let out an involuntary groan, lifting her head to watch the assault on her tits. Helpless, she had lost any shred of modesty or dignity. She was just a body for their use. Her nipples were distended, pointing out stiffly from their red halos. She could feel them pulsing even when they weren't being touched.

John in the meantime was investigating Helen's distended pussy with its black intruder. "There's so much more to sensuality than just stripping and fucking - you've really invented some awesome alternatives, Brad."

In John's skilled hands Helen felt more sensations in her exposed and distended pussy than her husband had ever managed. John pulled her labia further apart and found her clit. He discovered that pressing it against the black dildo offered more pressure than her more deeply buried pubic bone; he could make her clit squirm and jump around in its living red surround. Helen raised her head, unable to see what he was doing, but she certainly felt it. She felt her face blushing; she could feel her fluids leaking around that black object onto the board, wetting the whole area. The little bumps on her black intruder were rubbing against the inside of her pussy as John pulled and stretched her sensitive flesh. He sucked her distended clit into his mouth, an intimacy taken by a virtual stranger. She had no choice - this man was playing with her most sensitive, most personal parts, and it gave her sensations that she had never experienced or even thought possible.




Fifty Hours per Week Ch. 01



The feelings in Helen's pussy grew more intense and seemed to radiate out from her crotch to her whole body. She panted as her face and torso turned almost purple and involuntary twitches pushed her hips forward. They couldn't move far, but the pushing put unbearable pressure against her black intruder. Finally a wave of infinite pleasure shot through the bound woman; she bucked in vain against her ropes and her firmly secured pussy and felt rhythmic contractions there, out of her control, taking over her whole being. She screamed and fell back, her eyes glazed and half-closed. A sheen of sweat glowed on her torso, breasts and belly. The whole region of her crotch was soaked.

"What was that?", she murmured after gaining control again. "I've never felt anything like it, it was amazing and..."

"You just had your first orgasm," Brad interrupted, "but it won't be your last with me. And you forgot to call me sir."

The two men allowed their source of erotic pleasure to rest; slaveboy had to sponge her off, and sop up the fluids that had accumulated in a little depression built into the surfboard. But her session wasn't over.

Harold was commanded to grasp Helen's board at her feet and swing it away, still supported on the opposite armrest, to allow the two men to stand up. Then Brad took the head end to carry the bound woman over to two easy chairs spaced so that each end of the board rested securely on the back of one chair. 

"Slaveboy, you are going to help us submit your wife to another erotic experience. Lift up your end and we'll turn the board over."

Helen hung by her tight ropes and the pussy clamp that suddenly took on a completely different feel and function. Head hanging down, she gazed at her naked body. Her biggest surprise, though, was what the suspension did to her breasts. The rope looped around them was tighter than the other ropes on her upper body, so most of her weight pulled on that rope. The loops tightened around her large hanging breasts, squeezing them at the base and leaving large balls of flesh that seemed to hang free of her body. They began to swell and turn red as blood entered them but could not leave. 

Brad was pleased with the effect the suspension had on his helpless, humiliated victim. He invited John over to help with slapping and squeezing her breasts in such a wanton display. 

Brad remarked dryly, "Since you neglected to call me 'sir' you deserve a little punishment. But here, punishment is sexual, sometimes it's painful but it's arousing to us."

Opening a drawer in an end table Brad produced two clamps with little lead weights attached, fastening one to each of Helen's distended, hanging nipples. They had teeth. Helen winced, but managed not to cry out. Now both men stroked her breasts, slapped them, pulled on the weights to stretch her nipples down, out, even up while reminding her to show respect. She watched horrified and fascinated, her inverted world and her distended breasts giving an unreality to the whole episode.

Concerned, John asked "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, yes."

Brad pressed further, "Shall we take the weights off?"

"Yes sir, no, no leave them on, they're pulling on me, my boobs, sir, oof..."

Swimming in a maze of blood pressure in her hanging head, pain and pleasure shooting through her breasts and her body, Helen seemed hardly conscious. John worked on her pussy again, stretching, squeezing, forcing a finger inside; another orgasm built up, more quickly this time. Helen bucked, let out a long low moan, pulled her head up, shivered, and came again, her whole body vibrating. A gush of fluid shot from her pussy to the floor, onto a towel that Branwyn had thoughtfully spread out there, suspecting that something like this might happen. Helen fell back, exhausted and seemingly only semi-conscious, her body hanging passively against its restraints. John and Brad gently righted her again; Harold was given the task of untying her. 

Branwyn had witnessed the whole thing. "Wow, that must have been so awesome. My tits are too small for that - we tried it once, but the loops just pulled right over my boobies. But if you think that was extreme, babe, you've got a long way to go."

Helen staggered to her feet, still exhausted and confused. Brad noted that it was nearly ten, so it was time to dismiss the couple until the next week. 

"You did well, both of you," Brad intoned. "I'll expect equal or better obedience next weekend. You're excused."

That was as close as Brad ever got to actual praise. They went upstairs to their little servants' bedroom, found their clothing, and departed without being allowed to clean up and without so much as a goodbye from the others.

The Week

Shaken, Harold and Helen sat in silence for the first ten minutes of their drive home, their heads swimming with a bewildering brew of confusion, submission and astonishment. Harold looked straight ahead, driving, expressionless. Helen looked down at her hands in her lap, almost crying.

Finally Harold broke the silence: "We crossed some sort of boundary back there, dear. They did things to you that no man should do to another man's wife, or to anyone. Brad made you expose your breasts to him, and he fondled them right in front of me. At the pool he pinched your naked tits, I saw you wince, but you didn't stop him, you couldn't. He made you hold his cock. Then the exposure to a stranger, showing them your ass, even your bare pussy, the restraint, that thing in your pussy, the breast torture, you were absolutely helpless. They fingered your pussy. I know this is going to go further. Are you concerned, can you take it?"

After another few minutes of uncomfortable silence Helen answered, "I thought I had limits, but they violated them again and again and I let them. I wasn't responsible, once we signed our agreement it was out of my hands. My breasts are aching from that rope, my pussy is still sore from that big black thing, but Harold, I experienced things I didn't imagine were possible. It was humiliating and demeaning and nasty, but I wouldn't have changed anything, not a thing. Even the worst. I know Brad is going to push me further next time, it's only five days away."

"Helen, I'm thinking about the birth control that Brad gave you. I think it means that he'll fuck you sooner or later. I'm still not comfortable with that word. You'd be breaking your wedding vows. For me that will be the ultimate submission, letting him do it." An involuntary thrill ran down his spine.

"I've been faithful so far, if you don't count Holy Leader on our wedding night. That couldn't be helped. But if he asks, I have to go through with it, even though I'm your wife. I can't, I won't say no. I'm so ashamed, in a way think I even want it. I'm sorry. It's for the best."

"After all, we have an agreement."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, but Helen felt that tingle again, just talking about it. She wanted it a lot more than she could admit to her loyal husband, or to herself. At home the physically and emotionally exhausted couple fell into bed with no further conversation. The next day they both went to work as though nothing had happened, but after dinner their uneasy conversation resumed. 

"Helen, I think you should strip to the waist."

"Right here in our living room?" They had never done anything like that before.

"Yes. We're going to be discussing your body and what will happen to it. And I've discovered how beautiful your naked body is. Do it, please?"

Helen acquiesced, removing her blouse and then her conservative bra. Her body still bore red marks from the onslaught of the two men; a chain of raw welts surrounded each breast from the rope that had distended them. Her nipples were still sore and stretched from the clamps, but she liked her husband looking at them here and not in their bedroom. Gently Harold traced the welts and scratches with his fingers.

"Helen, you're my wife and I'll love you no matter what. But I have a feeling that next weekend our master will go further, he'll use your body as only a husband should, and he may go beyond even that. Do you think you can give him that much?"

He didn't even mention what he thought of this; it wasn't important.

"Well, I have no choice, really. He'll do what he wants with me. But Harold, they're showing me things I didn't know existed, I have to know more and do more even if it hurts, even if I'm humiliated and violated. I'm ashamed to admit it to you, but he's more important than you, I have to submit to him."

"Helen, seeing you sitting there with your scratched-up boobs, telling me these things, I don't know what to say. You're beautiful in spite of your scratches, no, maybe because of them. We have to go on, I feel compelled..."

"It's for the best."

"After all, we have an agreement."

Harold and Helen slept naked and enjoyed each other's bodies as never before. It was like a condemned man's last meal, knowing their bonds of fidelity would be broken. In bed Helen was much more active than she had been before, when the only ladylike thing to do had been to lie there and think of Jesus. She wrapped her hand around her husband's cock and stroked it, pushed her boobs into his face and made him fondle them, and took his erection into her mouth. Still a little stretched out, Helen's cunt didn't offer the usual satisfaction, even though she sat up and pumped as never before. Harold tried to give his wife a climax, but didn't succeed. The next day she started doing pelvic floor exercises to get her cunt back in shape for Brad. She wanted her pussy to be tight for him, to give him satisfaction. She didn't tell Harold.

In the meantime Brad and his wife were having their own discussion. Their marriage had never been exclusive; they both realized that their appetites and predilections wouldn't allow that. Rather, they had established with each other a firm, steady base from which to venture forth on other adventures. It was a deep-down understanding that wasn't, really couldn't, be expressed in formal vows. Brad asked Branwyn what she thought of their new submissive charges.

"Well, the guy just seems like a typical wimp, I didn't get to know him much, but that Helen - wow, she's dying to please you, to try new things, to stretch her boundaries. And that body - she's gorgeous, oozing natural sex. But she's so na•ve, she's starting from way behind."

"I've noticed those things too. Bran, I'm going to fuck her next weekend, and humiliate her wimp husband at the same time. And I'm going to send her to that school for sensual education for a day. There's so much we can do with her. She's desperate to free herself, and to submit to me at the same time."

By Friday night Helen's scratches and sores were mostly healed. Her husband suggested that she wear something simple befitting her subordinate status, but also revealing to emphasize her vulnerability. Perhaps without knowing it, he was becoming a voyeur and his previously prim wife an exhibitionist, eager to display her body to others, even the most private parts. She was just discovering how beautiful she was, and how beautiful other thought she was. Harold chose for her a t-shirt of his that hardly contained her bountiful boobs, and a short wrap-around skirt that fastened with velcro on the side, but Harold fastened it in the back, exposing the crack of her round ass. They had bought it to go over a bathing suit, but she wore nothing underneath - no bra, no panties. Her boobs bounced with every step, giving her a new sensation of self-conscious sexuality. Her nipples made points in the soft knit cloth. Harold pulled the shirt up under her boobs to define them better, leaving a generous patch of naked belly. He couldn't resist bouncing those boobs through the thin fabric - it hid nothing, and he wouldn't get the opportunity later. She would be advertising her submission and her sexual surrender from the first minute of their weekend.

Arriving at the big house, they hesitated for just a second before Helen rang the bell.



Fifty Hours per Week Ch. 02



Part 2
The Second Weekend

Wearing just one of her husband's t-shirts and her wrap-around skirt, open at the back, Helen felt self-conscious as her boobs wobbled their way up Brad's steps. Harold itched with anticipation - the more beautiful and vulnerable his wife, the more intense his submission would be when their master took her, possessed her completely.

Opening the door Brad was obviously pleased to see Helen in her compromised attire. Without saying a word he reached out and bounced her boobs a few times right there on the porch. Not expecting that, she blushed with embarrassment. Branwyn greeted them inside. Brad announced, "There's to be a little party here. You don't have much time to prepare. Go up to your room and you'll find what you will be wearing tonight."

Harold put on his little tux, while Helen was assigned a dress that they had bought the previous weekend, shimmery thin black cloth with a low elastic neckline, a short flaring hem, and of course no underwear. The dress and sandals would be all she would wear to the party, which would start at about nine. 

Returning downstairs the couple was surprised to be met by Branwyn dressed only in sandals and a short skirt. Harold wouldn't admit it if asked, but he greatly enjoyed seeing Bran's graceful, sexy body up close. Though he knew that it wasn't his place, he longed to touch her, to slide his hands up her smooth belly and over her exposed breasts. She explained that Brad was preparing for the party, and she would prepare them. 

"This is a really cool party," Branwyn explained. "It's not a normal get-together. The guests are here to hook up for a weekend of fun and sex with somebody else's spouse. When they come in each man deposits his driver's license in a bag. They mingle for a while, then the women come up one by one and pick a license from the bag without being able to see them. When she calls out the name the guy comes forward, kisses her, and they feel each other up a bit. Then they go back into the crowd and the next woman comes up. If someone picks out her own husband she has to pick again. Part of the thrill is knowing that you will have a weekend of wild sex but you have no control over who your partner will be."

Harold was confused. "There are really guys who are willing to do that, to give their beloved wives to some random guy?"

"Apparently there are", Branwyn responded patiently. "Brad and I did it for a while, but we're not active members anymore. The bigger surprise for me is that there are wives who want to go along. Most wives wouldn't, so the ones you'll see here are the exceptions. The way it's set up there's an illusion that the woman picks her partner, but of course it's really all random. I got to fuck lots of guys, but now Brad picks them for me, I only go with guys that he wants me to go with. So in that sense I'm faithful. Does that seem strange? With this group we're more hosts and organizers now."

Helen was still uncertain. She couldn't believe that women would give themselves to random guys, but she kept that to herself. "So what do we have to do? You still have to get dressed." 

"It's pretty simple, really. We serve snacks and help charge the erotic atmosphere. Oh, and I'm already dressed, the whole roomful of people will see me like this. Isn't it exciting? I love it when guys check out my bare tits. Harold will serve the drinks, but with his cock hanging out of his pants for the girls' entertainment. Anyone can fondle us all they like. If the men want to squeeze our tits, or kiss our nipples, or lift our skirts we're not allowed to stop them. About the only thing they can't do is fuck us. By the time everything's done, everybody will be aching for sex. Isn't that deliciously naughty?"

Brad returned with two trays that the ladies would use to serve little treats. Branwyn's was a normal tray, but Helen's was crescent-shaped; Brad showed her how it would fit under her boobs, splaying them out across the tray. The surface was a mirror, so her boobs would be displayed twice. When she offered their guests a nibble her boobs would be available along with the strawberries and chocolates. In a final preparation Brad casually stepped up behind Helen and pulled her elastic top down, tucking it under her breasts. She shivered, not from cold. There would be nothing between her bare skin and the strangers who would touch her.

Brad intoned, "Helen, you are to keep the tray right there, lifting up your boobs so everyone can get a good look and a nice feel. You may only lower it if someone asks to play with you more, to bounce your boobs for instance. This is your first time exposing yourself to a large group, and they will be touching you too - do you think you can handle it?"

"I have no choice, master. I know I'll be exposing myself shamelessly, respectable women don't do things like this, but if you want me to do it I will. After all, we have an agreement. They can stroke my boobs, pinch my nipples..." She had to stop before she got carried away - her nipples were already stiff and distended.

Branwyn got the job of fishing out Harold's cock, which was half-erect by the time she finished. It took her a little longer than seemed strictly necessary. He was admonished not to try to hide it, even if some of the friskier ladies gave him an erection. 

Brad greeted his guests, collecting the men's licenses, while his submissive helpers prepared in the kitchen. When everyone had arrived he tapped on a glass to get the group's attention, and announced, "We have a new serving wench; she will be 'available' in the usual way."

Brad made Helen come out and stand on a chair holding her tray, to introduce her to everyone. He lifted her skirt to show everyone her pussy while she stood frozen with fear and anticipation. There followed a vigorous applause, mostly from the men. Helen blushed, but she felt her crotch dampen and was embarrassed that her nipples stiffened again in front of a dozen couples. Harold got the same treatment, to polite applause mostly from the well-dressed, attractive women. Forced to do what he never would have dreamed of without his master's command, he felt the harsh but firm bonds of submission tightening around him. It's for the best, he thought. After all, we have...

Bravely the servants stepped into the crowd, mingling and offering refreshments and themselves. They noticed that some of the women were showing more than what you would expect at a cocktail party. There were some tantalizing low-cut dresses. One tall blonde wore a black see-through body stocking under a miniskirt; a buxom redhead displayed herself in a red see-through blouse over a black bra - but the bra was open-nipple, supporting and displaying at the same time. Those two were getting more attention than most of the other women in the room. 

Helen was getting plenty of attention too. When she first stepped into the crowd she felt mortified - she had never been forced to show herself to so many men, her tits on brazen, open display. Several people politely took snacks from her tray. When the first man brushed her nipples she jumped, nearly spilling her tray, but soon she found the tickling sensation pleasant, maybe a little too pleasant. Both men and women helped themselves to her strawberries and her nipples, tweaking and stroking. She stayed self-conscious but aroused, her stiff nipples straining and her crotch damp, through the whole party. In the meantime Branwyn was enjoying herself, strutting around and shamelessly offering herself to be felt up by anyone, male or female. She got plenty of cooperation.

It was mostly a standing-only cocktail party, but a few couples were seated around the edge of the room. One man called Helen over, challenging his companions, "Let's see what Brad's new slut has to offer." 

Helen didn't know how to react, never having been called a slut before, but with what she was doing now she couldn't deny it. That was upsetting, but she didn't have time to think about it. While she stood obediently in front of two couples on the couch, the man lifted her skirt right up to her waist. With a practiced gesture he pushed her legs apart and ran his hands up the soft insides of her thighs. Standing there with her bush exposed, she waited for the inevitable. When it came it wasn't a finger penetration; the stranger pulled her labia apart, showing his friends her glowing pink sex. He probed and stroked. She bit her lip and stayed there, avoiding eye contact, but the oozing moisture gave her away. Someone took her tray. Another man came up behind her and gently enveloped both breasts in his large hands, massaging them and pinching where it counts. This was embarrassing, but she couldn't, wouldn't stop it. She never learned who it was. 

Now the guy's wife called the submissive husband over. She reached out and squeezed his penis, hard, stroking and causing an erection. He didn't dare move. Helen's tormentor repeatedly jabbed two fingers into her while rubbing her clit with his thumb; she felt the contractions coming, unstoppable, overwhelming her. Her knees felt weak, she let out a whimper and came. At the same time Harold's tormentor repeatedly mistreated his aching cock, eventually swirling its helmet in her mouth while yanking on its shaft. Groaning, he too felt the contractions; his tormentor aimed his orgasmic discharge at his pants and shoes, to remain there disgracing him for the rest of the event. Each of the submissives saw the other's debauchery, witnessed by two dozen guests. 

Other guests were more sympathetic. One friendly fellow explained things to Helen while sampling her strawberries and the soft undersides of her boobs. Though it wasn't her place, she hesitantly asked him how couples came into such a daring, exclusive group. He described the initiation: "After a couple gets nominated they visit one of these hookup parties and each of them is stripped naked and fucked by a randomly chosen member of the opposite sex. Does that shock you? The whole group gathers around to watch and to see whether they can handle it. If they can they're admitted, but only by unanimous vote. After all, each woman has to be willing to be fucked by the new man, and each man has to find the new wife attractive. The group is pretty stable, though, not many new members lately. It's as if we all know what a unique privilege it is to indulge in this sort of thing, a new sex partner every month."

The pairing began, women volunteering to come up and pick a lover for the weekend. Most of the ensuing fondling by the newly paired couple was pretty routine, though a few were more flamboyant. One of the women in a low-cut v-neck dress had her breasts exposed while her new lover explored them; she seemed to revel in it, puling her shoulders back and turning to give everyone a good look at her stiff nipples. Several skirts were lifted as men got a preview of their new partners' cunts and asses. You would think that women would try to keep their skirts down with everyone watching, but these women didn't. The two women in the see-through tops got the most public attention. After all, they were asking for it.

Helen's new friend explained that each new couple would go to the woman's house. It worked better that way because women need their toiletries and cosmetics and wardrobes of provocative apparel. The men could make do with a toothbrush. When everyone had been picked the couples quickly departed, anxious to sample each other's intimacy. Two couples, though, made an arrangement to adjourn to the same house for some mutual showing off and swapping. Another newly paired couple asked Branwyn along for a threesome. She asked Brad, who magnanimously approved, and they were off.

After the party the submissives cleaned things up, Helen still aching with anticipation, wondering when and how Brad would take advantage of her. She didn't have to wait long. As the two were putting away the final glasses he told them to go to their room, put on what was laid out on the bed, and come to his bedroom on the second floor. She found a shelf bra that lifted but left her nipples exposed, and a diaphanous baby-doll nightgown that tucked under the bra and reached just to her crotch, though the only tie was right under her breasts and the rest flared out, exposing everything if she didn't stand still. Harold found nothing, so he came along in his soiled tux.

Entering the master bedroom suite where they had never been before the couple found Brad splayed out on the king-sized bed, naked, his cock already half-erect. Harold was embarrassed to see Brad's large cock; his own was still sticking out of his tux, shriveled and puny.

Turning his head, Brad announced, "Helen, you will spend the night with me in my bed. You are not to be passive, but to respond like any other woman. Harold, you are to strip and lie beside the bed while I make love to your wife. You'll find a yoga mat rolled up there, and you may grab a pillow and a blanket from the closet. Once you're settled you may not raise your head above the level of the bed without permission."

Harold scurried about setting up his mat while his wife stood looking exposed and vulnerable in the soft light. She couldn't take her eyes off Brad's penis, that she knew would penetrate her soon. Brad looked up at her standing over him, legs apart, her pussy right in front of his face and already blooming open like a flower. Her hard, extended nipples swayed above him, lifted up and out. From his angle her bra separated the tips of her tits from the rest of her body. She folded her arms behind her back without being asked, and flipped her hair behind her with a toss of her head, aching to show Brad how attractive she was.

"Slaveboy, I have one more task for you. I'm going to fuck your wife. Come over behind her and strip her for me."

Dutifully the submissive husband unhooked her bra to let her pendulous boobs swing free, and untied her nightgown. It drifted to the floor leaving her naked and ready. He burned with the knowledge that he was offering his wife's favors to her new lover. "My wife is ready for you, master."

Brad sent Harold to his mat again. He told Helen, "For the rest of the night you won't call me master, just talk like any other lover. When I slide my fingers over your pussy I can feel that it's soaked. Do you know why?"

"It's because I'm excited, you excite me, I'm turned on."

"There's another reason. Your body is preparing you to get fucked. It's lubricating your cunt to get ready to accept a cock." Lean over and swirl it in your mouth."

Helen leaned, her boobs trembling, and cupped Brad's penis and balls in her palms, staring at them like a forbidden treasure. Hesitantly she took the helmet of his large member into her mouth, swirling it with her tongue. It was warm, and tasted a little salty. He reached down and tweaked a nipple, hard, making Helen gasp, but she continued with her duties.

"Well, my cock-sucking slut", Brad continued as she sucked and swirled, "I'm about to make you break your vow of faithfulness to that creature beside my bed. How do you feel about that?"

She turned toward her master, taking his huge stiff cock in one hand. "Master, um, sir, um, I know it's for the best, we have an agreement, we thought this might happen when we came here tonight. But when I'm here I belong to you, not to him. I'm a little frightened of the consequences, but I want it, I want it badly, I need your cock inside me, just looking at it and touching it makes my head swim, I..."

"Come here and lie beside me."

Helen slid in beside her master, reveling in that head-to-toe contact of naked lovers. A thrill ran through her whole body. She climbed on top of him and guided her tits into his mouth, one after the other. She felt the warm wetness on her tits, the pinch of his teeth. He rolled her over, kissed her on the mouth and lowered his head to her neck, between her boobs, down her belly to her soaked cunt. No one had ever kissed her there before - the feelings astonished her. Brad licked up and down between her swollen, retracted lips, slipping his tongue into her tunnel, teasing her clit. He gently grabbed it between his teeth and pulled, making her moan. Another wave of lubrication oozed out of her as she lifted her hips, giving herself to her master.

"You liked that, didn't you, Mrs. Yodersohn," Brad teased, his face glistening with her juices. She could only moan. "Now get ready."

Brad slid up his new lover's body, pausing as his erection touched her pussy lips. She trembled, ready, knowing what was about to happen, hoping it would happen. They looked each other straight in the eye as his cock slowly penetrated. She thought of Holy Leader and of Harold's relatively ineffective lovemaking, and then only of overwhelming pleasure as Brad eased his way inside. His cock was so big that it touched her in all the right places at once. He began slowly pumping, each thrust going in a little deeper, a new voyage of discovery for the na•ve submissive. She gasped and cooed and cried.

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?"

"No, no, it feels so wonderful I can't stand it. This is the first time in my life I've been filled, really filled, I'm aching for more even as it's happening. I've missed so much. Fuck me more, please, I don't care about my marriage vows - or anything else. Take me, use me, please, don't go easy, just don't stop. Oh, I'm such a terrible slut with my husband right there but I don't care."

Brad penetrated deeply a few more strokes, growing rougher and more insistent. He squeezed Helen's trembling boobs, swaying back and forth as she squirmed under him. Then he withdrew; Helen tried to pull him back in again, pulling on his ass with her small fingers, but he was insistent. 

"Slide over to the other side of the bed, face away from me."

Overcome with disappointment, apprehensive that she had somehow failed him, that Brad's lovemaking was over just as it started, she obeyed. Brad slid in behind her though, threw an arm around her waist and snaked his cock into her from behind. Surprised, she felt that overwhelming pleasure again in a position she had never experienced, that living, responsive quivering thing pushing up inside her body again. Brad lifted her upper leg, slid in deeper, and commanded Harold to sit up just this once to see what was happening. A head emerged in front of Helen's swollen, filled pussy.

"What do you see, my boy?"

"Oh, master, I see your penis penetrating my wife's vagina. You're having your way with her, and I cannot object."

"How do you feel about that, Mr. Yodersohn? Use your new words."

"I know it's your right. She's my wife, but you have the right to, um, fuck her and use her as you see fit. She's beautiful that way, giving the ultimate surrender to you. It's for the best. After all, we have an agreement. I'm willingly sacrificing her for you."

Harold was dismissed for the night, able to hear but not see Helen's sexual submission. Brad screwed his new feminine prize from behind; he pulled her up on her hands and knees and fucked her doggie style, her boobs swaying as she groaned. He pulled her to the side of the bed on her back, forced her legs apart, and entered her standing beside the bed, her whole body shaking with every savage stroke. Helen was lost in an erotic haze, moaning and crying, clutching at her lover, digging her fingernails into his ass to pull him in, bucking up to meet his strokes. Her face and torso turned crimson, her nipples felt like they would explode. Finally she lifted up with a scream, stiffened, and her whole body vibrated as she experienced the most intense orgasm of her life, different from the frightening one she had felt on the board the week before or the humiliating one at the swingers' party. Brad didn't let her rest; as soon as she calmed down he was at it again, sliding into her willing cunt until her vaginal contractions overwhelmed her again. This time Brad released into her with a roar, filling her with stroke after stroke of his white gift. 




Fifty Hours per Week Ch. 02



The lights dimmed; the two naked lovers slept. In the morning Brad showed Helen how to sit up on him and guide his cock into her cunt. She was now an active partner, not just a receptacle; she reveled in the sexual shocks coursing through her body, shocks that she had never experienced before. Becoming uncharacteristically aggressive she scratched his broad chest with her fingernails. She lifted his hands to her boobs to get fondled while she fucked him. He cooperated. In their erotic intoxication she stared into his eyes, something a submissive shouldn't do, and he stared back. Still coupled, they both stopped pumping and continued to stare for hours, or was it seconds? Everything else fell away - Harold, the agreement, their asymmetrical relationship. She peered into Brad's soul, and he into hers.

Eventually the spell broke, but it left both of them changed. Never again would Helen address her lover as sir or master, and never again would he expect it. The lovers got up and showered together, laughing, while Harold was sent off to prepare breakfast. Later Brad and his new lover went shopping for a few more items. Brad explained that he had liked the look of Helen's boobs when they were tied; he wanted to get a pair of steel rings of just the right size that would be held by a chain around her neck. He promised to expose her and force her boobs through the rings at parties and other occasions, making them swell and drawing attention to them. Helen burned with embarrassment at the thought of doing that in front of others, but she burned with something else too, something that made her nipples stiffen.

At the mall Helen had to wear a dress that was all transparent, like black stockings made into a dress. It had hand-width solid bands behind her torso and her hips for modesty, but the bands ended at the side, leaving her boobs and her crotch visible. The dress ended in a tight skirt at mid-thigh. She was of course without panties. When she saw the dress she asked her master if maybe she should at least wear a bra with that dress in public; Brad consented, but the bra he chose was the lacy frame, leaving her nipples exposed. It only drew more attention to her sexuality. Helen blushed when she saw it but of course she had to wear it. In the end she was thrilled at the wanton display she would provide for her beloved master.

At the mall several men offered to walk beside her and Brad, and he gave them permission. When their shopping was nearly finished a uniformed policeman briskly walked up to the group and informed Helen that he was citing her for indecent exposure. Brad stepped up inches from his face to emphasize his greater height, asking how he knew about her exposure - after all, she was wearing a dress, wasn't she? The policeman said there had been a complaint. Had he verified the complaint? Yes, he had. Brad lit into the poor man, telling him that he had no business ogling his wife's body. His job was to protect the public from purse-snatchers and shoplifters, not to snoop around women's bodies like a perverted voyeur and take complaints from other perverted voyeurs. Brad knew the police chief personally. He never raised his voice, but he soon had the hapless enforcer of the law stammering, apologizing, wishing he had never gotten involved. When Brad finally dismissed him he scampered away, head bowed.

Helen was impressed. Later when she told the story to Branwyn, she replied that he can do that to almost anyone: "That's what makes him so wealthy and so successful in business, and in sex. Negotiation with him is always one-sided. And for him, wife is a flexible concept."

Back in his living room Brad had Helen strip and put on a tiny transparent g-string. Getting used to near-nudity, she found that she liked it, she liked its effect on men and on herself. Brad showed the new rings to Harold, getting them out of their box, draping the chain around Helen's neck and forcing her boobs through them. It was a tight fit, and took some squeezing and pulling while Helen winced and bit her lip. The effect was immediate, drawing attention to the petite wife's large boobs, making them rounder, fuller, bouncier. Her nipples swelled and hardened. Brad taught his new mistress how to swing her shoulders to make those boobs bounce and sway, how to walk proudly displaying her body. He got the nipple clips out, the ones that had tormented her the previous week, and pinched her nipples hard before he applied them. He told her that she would be displaying herself to other men that way; she should have been humiliated, as Harold was, but she found herself excited and actually looking forward to it despite the discomfort, or maybe partly because of it. Displaying herself to other men would be dangerous if her beloved master weren't protecting her. She had already done it at the party last night but she sensed that it could be harder, more extreme.

That afternoon Harold was given the task of planting bulbs in the side flower bed. Brad explained that the bulbs were for flowers called naked ladies - he thought that appropriate for his lifestyle. The bulbs produce leaves that die back, leaving bare ground. Then a stalk shoots up with no leaves at all, hence naked, and a lily-like pink flower blooms. It's just the sex organ of another species. Harold would be a naked man, though, while he planted Brad's naked ladies. 

The master and his new lover took a well-earned nap; Helen stripped and spread her legs on her back, hoping to be ravished again. She begged Brad to take her, but he held back, without an explanation. He left it at that. Why should he explain? She'll do anything he asks in any case. But secretly he marveled at her perfect, round curves. They curled up together and slept. 

That evening Harold served as chauffer for his wife and her new lover, driving them to a small club in a larger town about half an hour away. As they neared the location Brad explained so that her husband could also hear that Helen would be his companion inside the club. "Helen, this is a club where some of the patrons indulge in sexual foreplay and fucking on a stage while the others watch. I want you to see it. Several couples will do this, one after the other - they will be the ones that you see with exposed breasts when we go inside. Harold will enter by a different entrance where he must sit in the back and watch."

Helen squirmed, but no questions were allowed. Just before they arrived Brad pulled apart the sides of her V-neck dress, exposing her boobs and squeezing them together. It looked as though the dress was made for that, and it was. Helen knew then - she would be one of the ones to fuck in public, and her husband would see the whole thing. A rushing feeling ran up her spine, different from what she had felt before, anticipation and terror mixed. She squeezed Brad's hand and practically jumped out of her seat, hugging Brad and kissing his face. 

"Oh Brad, that's so scary, but I want to do it, for you, for me. I'll show everyone how far I've come, how far you've brought me. Everybody there will see my naked boobs when we go in, and they'll know what will happen to me. I'll spread my legs and show everyone my cunt. Don't hold back, do everything to me, fuck me hard, really hard."

They identified themselves at the door, Helen's short dress flapping open at the front slit as she walked, her boobs bouncing. All the men turned to watch, knowing what they would see later. Helen found herself turning left and right, giving a little extra bounce just for the thrill of it, her nipples swelling. Inside the club, not much bigger than a large living room, they found a simple table in the center, about one body length wide and two body lengths long. No one was more than four seats from the stage except for those at a bar in the back where Harold was exiled; Brad and Helen were seated in the front row. Helen saw the other women with exposed breasts, but even so she felt self-conscious and a little tingly at her own exposure. She was discovering the thrill of exposing herself to strange men. If Brad had given her a choice she still would have preferred to show her boobs. She recognized a couple from their party the night before; they had come to watch her debauchery.

A slim, very young waitress with short hair and puffy nipples on impossibly high breasts, wearing just a transparent thong, served them drinks. She seemed to set up an erotic atmosphere single-handed. As she turned around Brad squeezed her tight ass cheeks with both hands, saying "Nice ass, babe." She flounced away, obviously pleased with his attentions, her cheeks glowing.

Soon after sitting down they engaged in conversation with the couple next to them, a big affable man, slightly overweight, and a tiny woman wearing a tight red mesh dress with her nipples poking through. Her black hair, combed to the front, wasn't quite long enough to cover them. The man introduced himself: "Hi. Yoshi Honda, like the car. Jane just couldn't wait to come here after I described what goes on. I like the erotic atmosphere, all these beautiful women and their beautiful bodies."

Jane added, "It's such a thrill to let other men see my boobs. And Yosh loves it when other men touch me. I let them because he likes it, but mostly I let them because I like it, my nipples are so sensitive. Is that too weird? This isn't done in our culture, you just can't, but we do it anyway."

They assured her that it's beautiful, not weird - boobs are made to be seen, not hidden, Brad pronounced. And why refrain from touching when it's such a thrill for both toucher and touchee? A few giggles, interrupted by the start of the evening's entertainment. From the other side of the stage a couple stepped up, a statuesque woman with dark swept-up hair, exaggerated makeup and a simple strapless tube dress with teacup-sized cutouts for the tips of her breasts, accompanied by a slim ordinary-looking man who didn't look as though he was in her league. He came up behind her and stroked her sides; she raised her arms behind her and around his neck, turning her head for a kiss as his hands reached her breasts. Helen was pretty sure that she had tinted her nipples to make them stand out. They weren't huge, but her man was showing everyone how flexible they were, pulling and twisting and demonstrating their softness by stroking and squeezing in the right places.

Brad sat back, crossed his legs, and put one arm around Helen and another around their new acquaintance. Without asking he lowered Jane's top to feel her bare breasts, cupped nicely and held firmly. A little thrill coursed through Helen, enjoying Brad's attentions even if they were shared - or perhaps the sharing made it more edgy, more erotic. It never occurred to Yoshi to protest against this larger-than-life man's liberties with his wife. 

Onstage the man had lowered his wife's dress to her hips as she twisted to display her upper body. With her man behind her lifting up her skirt to fondle her perfect ass, she walked around the perimeter of the small stage to give everyone a close look. She turned, knelt, and gently pulled down her husband's pants - a long semi-erect cock sprang into view but was covered almost immediately by the elegant woman's hands and mouth. It sprang to full erection. The wanton woman moved behind her man, stroking his penis with her hands so that everyone could see what she was doing.

Fascinated, Helen leaned into Brad's shoulder and whispered how unexpectedly beautiful this erotic activity was. "Last week it would have shocked me, it still does in a way, her body is so perfect and so exposed, I feel that tingle again."

He brushed his hand across her erect nipple, adding shocks to the tingles. On the other side he felt Jane's nipple stiffen in his hand.

Just an arm's length from the front row the woman had stripped her man. He was on top of her licking her pussy while she sucked his cock, both moaning their pleasure. She had lost her dress and exposed her pussy while they weren't paying attention. Eventually the man stood, his stiff cock glistening, and sat on the floor at center stage. He sat his woman on his lap, spread her legs, and pulled her nether lips to show everyone her erect pink clit and all the sensitive flesh around it. They even looked into her gaping hole, ready for his cock. She pushed back. Lifting her he entered smoothly, to groans from both and scattered applause from the audience.

"Brad, I can't believe they're doing that in front of everyone. But it's wonderful, it's the ultimate intimacy, you can see the pleasure in both of them. I'm so grateful you brought me here to see it. I love doing that with you. And last night - I had no idea it could be so wonderful, all-consuming. I discovered something I'd been missing all my life. I feel like attacking you right now."

Jane overheard and whispered, "You'll get your wish. After the couple up there finishes fucking for us it will be your turn. All the women with exposed breasts are going to get laid right there on the stage, where everybody can see it."

Brad responded, "I intend to do just that, my little fuckmuffin. You've come a long way fast. There's something about you that's infinitely attractive. But look, now, on stage."

The couple had moved; the woman reclined on her side right in front of Brad as her man moved in behind and entered her. She raised a leg so that both couples could witness the penetration close up. She looked at each of them in turn, biting her lower lip while her body jerked with each stroke. Her breath came in short pants, her face and torso glowed pink. Jane leaned forward, fascinated. "That's so beautiful, the climax of life and the start of life, there's nothing better, it's awesome, thank you for showing it to us."

The woman on stage stiffened and cried out, spasmodically jerking. Her man pulled out; when she was ready, he moved her to the center of the stage for the last act, his long cock swinging as he walked. Reclining on his back, he let his woman straddle his hips and lower herself onto him. Now she was in charge, squeezing her tits as she undulated up and down. On the down strokes she raised her head, half-closed her eyes and moaned, a low guttural sound. A few strokes later he lifted her with his hips and began spasmodically releasing into her. She took the first few strokes inside herself, then pulled off and aimed her man's white release onto her tits, the last bits onto her face. They sat panting for a while, then the man lifted his woman from behind by her thighs with her legs spread and her raw sex exposed. He didn't look strong enough but he had no difficulty carrying her around the stage to show everyone the white goo oozing from her still-spasming cunt. They sat back in their original seats; their show was over.

Now it was Brad and Helen's turn. She was so excited that she couldn't sit still. "Brad, you're going to strip me naked in front of all these people, and fondle me, and fuck me right here. They'll see everything, it's so..."

"Time to stop talking and start doing. One step at a time. But when we're up there, I want you to explain your feelings to the audience."

Brad stood, stripped to the waist, and helped a trembling Helen onto the stage. "Hi everybody, I'm already hot showing you all my boobs. I love letting you see them swing and bounce."

Without being asked, the new performer walked around the stage leaning over to give everyone a good look at her trembling boobs and her pulsating nipples. A bemused Brad stood aside, admiring her new-found sexual confidence and initiative. He walked her to center stage, asking the audience, "Do you want to see her naked?"

A chorus of "Yes!" and "Do it!" came back.

Gently Brad lifted Helen's dress over her head. Since that was the only thing she was wearing, her body was completely exposed. Holding her hands above her head he twirled her to show everyone, easing her hips forward and back, showing the men her fucking muscles as her cunt squeezed back and forth between her legs. The thrill of the forbidden added to her feelings, and she exploited that. "It's so exciting to be naked for you. My body is ready for sex, and you're all going to watch him fuck me."

Producing a length of cord from his pocket, Brad came up behind his posturing partner and wrapped a coil around her left breast. Surprised, she looked down at it. He pulled it tight, squeezing her generous flesh into a ball. The ball swelled; her tit hardened. He wrapped the other breast with the same cord, pulled tight, and asked the object of his attentions to describe her sensations.

"Ah, it's really tight, I can feel my tits swelling for you, I feel even more naked. That cord draws attention to them, it hurts a bit but it's worth it."

Helen's tormentor tied the cord behind her back, reached forward and slapped the bottoms of her tied breasts. They bounced and jiggled. She gasped. He forced them up, left and right, down, around in circles.

"Oh, wow, they bounce even more than usual. I love how they look, you're all watching me display myself, they're so big and round and..."

Brad brought her back to the task at hand. "Take off my pants and suck my cock."

Dutifully she did just that, taking the tip of his swelling member into her mouth and working the rest with both hands. She came up for air exclaiming, "I love his cock when it's big and hard and ready to fuck me. You can all see how wet I am, how ready." 

There wasn't a dry crotch in the house. Brad took his time, leaning Helen back and kissing her neck, her pendulous tied breasts, her soft belly, and finally her pussy, while she squirmed and squealed. Lying her on her back he pulled her legs up and back in a V to stretch and display her pussy, turning her so that everyone could see everything. He came up to her ear and whispered, "Look at your husband while you describe what's happening to you now."

She looked, her humiliated husband looked back briefly, and staring at him she breathed, "He's kissing my pussy, he's flipping my clit with his tongue, now he's got it up my hole, halfway to paradise, it feels so good. It's such a thrill to let you watch."

Brad stood with his erection pointing up and turned Helen by her hips to face the bar, whispering again, "Look down at my cock and up at your husband."

Words were no longer necessary or even possible after that. Brad spread his lover's legs wide; everyone could see her quivering pink gash. A thrill ran through her - this was it. Looking straight at her husband, who betrayed a deer-in-the-headlights look, she leaned forward, delicately took Brad's cock and inserted it in her soaked cunt. She moaned, he grunted, and they began the ancient dance.

Jane looked up at them, gushing, "That's just so beautiful. There's nothing more beautiful, more emotional, omygod, those tits shaking, her pussy lips, it's so wonderful..." Jane had more enthusiasm than skill with words.

Helen was lifted up and down, up and down, each new penetration a voyage of discovery, of fulfilled lust, of overwhelming raw feel. That living thing inside her was the most important thing in the world, the only thing in the world. She felt her lover's cock beginning to twitch, his balls to tighten. He pulled out just in time, stood his partner up and walking to one side of the stage had her lean over, her tits flopping and bouncing. "Now we're going to give your audience a bonus. Invite anyone in the audience to stand and fondle your tits while I fuck you from behind. Let them feel the vibration in your body with each stroke. If someone wants to kiss you on the mouth, kiss them back."

Helen wasn't expecting this. She looked back at Brad, shivered and hesitated but turned, lifting her tits toward her rapt onlookers. He entered her again, sliding easily into her gaping soaked pussy. A man in front of her stood and reached forward, handling her boobs and distended nipples. Brad grabbed his partner's hips and shoved himself savagely all the way in, making her whole body shake. The man squeezed her boobs, pulled her nipples down and released, adding to the shaking they got from each of Brad's thrusts. Brad pulled out slowly and exploded forward again. "Look at your husband."




Fifty Hours per Week Ch. 02



At that side of the stage he was only a few steps away. Wide-eyed, she looked again at Harold, sitting on his stool staring open-mouthed at her while Brad made her body quiver. Another man came up and tried to kiss her, but the shock of Brad's penetrations was so severe that he had a hard time keeping contact. Finally he grabbed the back of her head and forced his tongue into her mouth. She forced hers back. A third man slid his hands over her soft boobs and hard nipples from the side. She moaned, her whole consciousness submerged in an overwhelming carnal present.

Brad and Helen moved around the edge of the stage, repeating their lewd act for all who cared to feel her up. With each move Brad pulled out and let himself recover so that he could continue fucking. With each new penetration she felt the lust, the grip of carnal compulsion again, building, building. Their last stop was in front of Yoshi and Jane. Ecstatic, Jane cooed "That is sooo hot. I love watching you two fuck, it's so intense."

Helen was a rag doll by now, shaking uncontrollably. Yoshi stood to fondle her tits; he was rougher than the other men because he didn't have to save her for others. Helen reached down to squeeze the tits that Jane offered, thrusting her chest forward. She had never touched another woman's tits before. They were soft and cool.

For their final act Brad escorted Helen to the center again and reclined, sitting Helen on top and asking her to look again at Harold. She stared as her lover pounded her from below. He tweaked her nipples as he speeded up. Helen turned crimson, cried out, stiffened and came. Brad began pumping his fluid into her raw red cunt. At length their mutual spasms subsided; Brad gently pulled her ass to the edge of the stage edge while she slumped back, and held her legs up and out to show the audience the white goo oozing from her open, distended lips. He lifted her and carried her around the stage while she spread her legs to show everyone the results of their public fucking close up. 

At the end Brad deposited his lover at the edge of the stage facing Harold, cowering at the bar, held Helen's legs up and out again, and announced, "I want to thank Helen's husband for the use of his wife's pussy tonight. He's there at the bar, end seat." Everyone turned to see who the cuckold was, while he continued to stare dumfounded at his wife's open pussy as though no one else was there.

Brad, Helen and her humiliated husband stayed to watch Yoshi and Jane, the final act of the night, admiring Jane's perfect Asian figure and the graceful fluidity of their carnal dance. But mostly they recovered physically and emotionally. Helen's tight bond was released. Brad pulled his pants back on but his new mistress preferred to stay naked. At the end of the evening several men came over to give her tits another squeeze; she let them slide their hands along and into her still-soaked pussy. It felt great, it was part of her sexual surrender.

In the car on the way home Helen reclined on the back seat with her head in her lover's lap. Harold drove while she enthused in a dreamy voice about what a wonderful lover Brad was, how she loved him, how she loved fucking with him, how she would do anything for him. Anything, she repeated, no matter how extreme. Her message was clear - she wanted experiences as intense as possible. Harold cringed inwardly but kept driving. Before they reached the house both of the new lovers had dozed off. Harold carried his sleepy wife to Brad's bed and deposited her there before retiring to his little attic room. He knew his duty.

The following morning Brad drove his new lover to a large house a few blocks away. He explained that a special class was being held there today, an all-day workshop on carnal technique. She would learn how to suck a man's cock, to display her body, to please a man in many ways, to dance a striptease, to fuck in many positions. 

"Will I be fucked there?", Helen asked apprehensively.

Brad informed her, No, but the people here will teach you new positions and how to respond in the process."

"I'm not good enough for you now? I'm trying, I really am."

"You're wonderful, dear, but here you'll learn things that most women never know. Believe me, you'll be more confident, more capable when I pick you up tonight."

At the workshop Helen was welcomed by a kind matronly lady and sent into the first session. She was addressed as Ms. Yodersohn, which took her aback, reminding her of the change in her marital relationship. She would practice her cock-sucking technique on a lifelike dildo, then do advanced work on the real thing. Her instructor, a fiftyish energetic woman, noted, "A man's cock reacts - you can't learn about that on a rubber hose." 

A half-dozen other women took the course with Helen; she was probably the least experienced of them all, but being intelligent and motivated she learned fast. She worked newly-learned oral magic on the young man assigned to her, and felt proud when he lurched and came in her hands.

Next was a lesson in erotic dance. The female instructor, a slim young woman with a lithe, flexible body, short black hair and flashing brown eyes, explained that erotic dance means showing an audience what a fantastic lover you would be. She demonstrated the right walk, the best hip grinds, the way to tease while stripping, how to dance ever more lewdly after all the costume was lost. Everyone practiced, with lots of coaching. At the end of the lesson each of the women demonstrated her dancing to the class and to a group of the men who had bee sucked that morning. It would require being naked and sexually inviting in front of strangers. Again Helen learned fast, seducing her audience convincingly, her undulations earning enthusiastic applause. She blushed but inwardly she loved it.

At the lunch break Helen got acquainted with some of the other women. Some were just teenage girls, sent by their older lovers to learn the ways of Eros. Helen found a woman a little older than her who looked like the typical respectable housewife, attractive but not flashy. Asking how she got there, Helen got a surprising answer.

"Actually I'm here learning to be a better prostitute."

Helen was shocked yet again.

"Don't look so alarmed, it's really a choice I made with my husband. Even before that, we found I have a huge sexual appetite, more I think than most women. Some women can take it or leave it; I have to take it, as much as possible. My husband Jake loves me so much that once he invited a friend of his over to fuck me while he watched, when he was too tired from working at the plant to satisfy me himself. Then a few weeks later, after I begged and cajoled, he found four men and we had an incredible gang-bang at our house. I've never been so turned on or so satisfied in my life. Jake got the final fuck. Then he was laid off several months ago, and he can't find another job. When money got tight I suggested that we could maybe combine my sexual appetite and our financial situation by finding men who would pay to fuck me. He was offended at first, but eventually we tried it. His only condition was that he would be there to watch, and to prevent me from getting exploited too roughly. I was fine with that. He found a guy, and it was wonderful for all of us. Pretty soon we realized that we could make more money and satisfy me more if we had men over in groups. They would all fuck me. It turns out that some men will pay almost as much for a gang-bang as for a one-on-one, so we are making a lot more money and we can support ourselves on just one or two affairs a week. I'm here to learn to do it better, to go after a more high-end clientele."

"Wow. I though I was doing crazy, reckless wild things, but I..."

"What's your situation, then?"

"Well, I'm a submissive, along with my husband. Our master fucks me wonderfully, and sent me here to learn more techniques. I'm actually quite inexperienced."

"Oh." The new gang-banger found that somewhat anticlimactic, compared to her needs and lusts.

The afternoon session started, the climax of the day, learning to fuck with skill and grace. The classroom had a large padded floor with a few props. The group formed into a circle to see easy and difficult positions demonstrated by a beautiful young woman and her muscular partner, who made clear that they were demonstrators, not lovers, and they were there to show technique, not to get off on each other. But it seemed to Helen that they enjoyed the demonstrations more than necessary. A lot more. The lesson included learning to satisfy men in groups. Helen found this the best part of the workshop, buff men approaching naked, willing women. They touched, stroked, kissed; even the most willing woman needs some foreplay, an erotic buildup to the final act. 

They penetrated from behind, while seated with knees spread, while in a handstand, while grabbing their ankles and being rotated around like a broomstick. The instructor lifted his partner from behind by the thighs while another penetrated her. Somehow both of them entered her stretched pussy at the same time. Helen learned positions that at first seemed physically impossible. Having others there, all witnessing each other, multiplied the learning and the pleasure. The 'instructors' sweated, thrilled, came, came again. One pinched the top of his lover's lips together above his inserted member to heighten the friction for both of them. And the best part was learning the positions in which others could best see the penetration and enjoy the act along with her. She was beginning to admit to herself that she was a sexual exhibitionist; she yearned to display her sexuality to others, to fuck with an audience as she had on the incredible night before.

When Brad picked her up she flounced down the steps to his car, her light yellow sundress waving. She couldn't stop enthusing about what she had learned, couldn't wait to demonstrate it, the sucking, the dancing, the carnal act. Brad informed her dryly that she would have plenty of opportunity. But she also said that the activity there was cold, lacking in the personal emotional exchange that made the experience whole.

At home they had a quiet dinner; Helen, no longer the servant, sat with Brad. Afterward Branwyn returned and they entertained an attractive young couple. The wife Melissa wore an expensive silk blouse with a frilly front and a tight mid-thigh-length skirt, subtle navy blue, over fashionable boots. They sat around the living room in comfortable chairs and couches like normal people, except that Brad casually asked Helen, then Branwyn, to remove their tops. They both sat half-naked with their tits exposed. Helen was proud that she could now do this comfortably, thrilled at her exposure, the men admiring her heavy boobs and her stiff nipples; she couldn't resist lifting them up to show everyone. Branwyn took it for granted.

The young couple was surprised and impressed. Melissa commented on how beautiful the two topless women were. Tall and slim, she had large pendulous breasts that looked as though they shouldn't fit on such a lithe frame, but her husband assured everyone they were real. They wanted advice on planning a 'naughty' party; they wanted nudity, sexual acts, but not a free-for-all. And paradoxically Melissa confessed to being nervous about exposing herself to their guests, even though the party was her idea. She wanted to act the femme fatale but would be crushed, she explained, if when the time came she couldn't get up the nerve to strip for her guests. Her husband Sam, a big guy with a black crew cut and jutting jaw, agreed that she would have to strip and more to do what they had planned for their party.

Brad with his booming voice suggested that they try exposing Melissa right here, right now, to see how it went. His suggestions were always taken as orders. He stood behind her chair facing the rest of the party, running his hands up and down her sides as she nervously waited for more, arms at her sides, barely breathing, flexing her fists. Indeed, soon Brad's hands migrated to her breasts, shamelessly squeezing them through her silk blouse and bra. He needed both of his large hands to properly handle one breast. Sam stared, surprised at the sudden change in circumstances but obviously aroused. Methodically Brad unbuttoned as she helped slip the blouse from her shoulders. A lacy bra failed to hide huge deep-red alveoli that seemed to cover half of each breast. She threw her head back, bit her lip, and let Brad feel her up. 

"Brad, what if I can't actually show my boobs to my guests? I'm afraid we'll have to try that too."

Melissa couldn't wait any longer - impatiently she unhooked the front of her bra and shook her boobs loose. Her nipples were as outsized as her breast flesh, long and now stiff, pulsing, aching to be rubbed and squeezed. Brad obliged while everyone watched. 

"Melissa", he intoned, "you are exposing yourself to five people, we love how your boobs jiggle and bob, how your tits stand out." 

Melissa's shivered and put her hand to her crotch. "Ogod, that's so erotic. You're all looking, and I'm letting you. But still I don't know if I can expose my pussy, it's so private and personal..."

Brad had caught onto her little game, 'testing' whether she could perform outrageous acts in front of others. Her new lover had her stand as he unzipped her skirt from the side, letting it slip to the floor. Her long legs were perfectly proportioned, but the surprise was her panties, netting with a generous open crotch. Prominent lips, damp black curls, the beginnings of a pink slit emerged. Melissa raised her hands to her mouth as though in horror and looked down. His face inches from her exposed pussy, Brad commented "Looks like you were prepared for a naughty party of your own tonight, weren't you?"

"I can't believe I had the nerve to wear these. I didn't finally decide to do it until the last minute. I was shaking as I put them on. I'm shaking now. My husband thought I looked awesome and sexy, but no one would know. I guess he was wrong."

"Only about the last part. So how does it feel to show your pussy to these people? We can all see that you're soaked, we can see you opening up."

"I can't lie - my body is giving me away. It's scary, exciting, wonderful and terrible. Respectable women aren't supposed to ever do this, but I've fantasized about a moment like this for years. I don't know why we didn't try it before."

"I'm going to take you further, Melissa, while everyone witnesses. Just say 'stop stop stop' if you lose your courage and can't go any further."

"Um, ok, what are you going to do with me?"

By this time everyone had guessed what Brad was going to do, and he did it. Deftly he removed his pants, revealing his large semi-erect cock. Melissa stared. "Now we are going to have to test whether you have the courage to kiss a cock that's not your husband's while he and other people watch you. Go ahead, grab it, stroke it, put the tip in your mouth, suck it. Don't hold back."

Tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence, Melissa gave Brad enough oral stimulation to produce a fully erect member, red, pulsing.

"Melissa, here's the final test. If your party is to be a success, you'll have to be able to have intercourse with another man while your husband and others cheer you on, right? Do you think you can do it?"

"Ogod, can I? It's so intimate, so intense. This is happening so fast. But I'm determined to do this at our party, right Sam? So I have to go through with it."

Wearing only her open-crotch panties and boots, Melissa turned to Brad and threw her arms around his neck. "Is it ok? I mean, your wife is right here, she's seeing everything and..."

"Don't worry. She's used to seeing me fuck other girls."

Helen wasn't used to it, though; she felt a pang of jealousy. Then she realized that when Brad fucked Melissa it wasn't so different from him fucking her; he was straying from his wife, to be sure, but Melissa was straying from her husband and so was she. Their husbands would just have to deal with it.

Brad held her close as she leaned back, presenting her tits to him. "Oh Sam, he's kissing my tits, it feels so intense, he has a finger in my pussy, I'm melting."

Confidently Brad reclined his new prize on the soft rug in front of the fireplace, on her side facing the onlookers. He laid down behind her, lifted her upper leg, and positioned his stiff cock near her entrance. Looking at Sam, he asked, "Is this ok, Sam? We need to test your wife's ability to do this in front of your guests at your party, right?

Sam murmured his assent, leaning forward fascinated, or perhaps he was just trying to hide his own erection. Slowly, slowly Brad brought his cock up to Melissa's gaping entrance and slid in. After just the helmet penetrated he asked, "Is this ok, Melissa? Can you handle it?"

"Oh, I don't know, yes, please, go further, put it in all the way, it feels incredible, so open, so wicked. Sam's actually watching another guy fuck me!"

Brad pulled out; she grabbed his cock and lined it up again, his new lover swiveling her hips backward to get him in again. He penetrated further to grunts from Melissa, pulled out, went in again, this time all the way. Doing this he stared fixedly at Helen, who stared back. She knew he enjoyed this, and she felt a strange motivation to allow anything, to do anything it takes to give him pleasure, even this. The timeless rhythm built up, everyone now fixated on the point of contact, Brad's cock growing shiny and slippery with Melissa's juices. He was close. At the last minute he turned her over onto her hands and knees and entered her from behind, leaning over to tweak her swaying boobs as he ejaculated inside her. He said, "You haven't come yet. I'm going to tickle your clit until you do."

It didn't take long; Melissa's face blushed, she grimaced, her body shook and stiffened, lost to all but her own overwhelming sensations. 

When it was over Brad stood her up, fluids dripping down her thighs, thanking her for a 'wonderful fuck' and the audience for their witness. He assured her that she'd do fine at the party. Sam jumped up and was all over her, kissing his naked wife and holding onto her boobs as though they might fall off. He had passed the harder test. Breathlessly he turned to the assembled group and exclaimed, "You're all invited to our party on Friday at our house. We only had two other couples, now it's a regular houseful of guests with benefits."

It turned out that Sam and Melissa lived in the same town as Harold and Helen. Brad suggested that they go directly to the party the following week, then return to his house afterward. The suggestion was taken as a direct order, of course. After Melissa cleaned up the couple thanked their hosts profusely for an 'awesome' experience and departed.

Brad asked his submissive couple what they thought; Harold enthused that it was beautiful, the master was a so much more powerful lover than he could ever be. Helen was still a bit jealous in spite of herself, was ashamed of that, and didn't admit it. She was asked to serve some after-dinner brandy. Then, without warning, Brad demanded, "Slaveboy, fuck Branwyn."

"What? Master, right now, right here? Your wife? I don't know if I can, if I dare..."

"If I have to ask you twice, it will be the first and only time."

"Oh, yes master, of course master, anything you say master, I'll try my best."

Tentatively Harold walked over to Branwyn, who stood and took over. She stripped the slaveboy, then slipped off the hot pants and sandals that were all she was wearing. She stroked the stricken slaveboy and finally knelt to get his cock going. He looked helplessly at his wife, whose erect nipples told him that she was definitely enjoying this bit of submission-with-benefits. Branwyn laid him down on the carpet, kissing his cock a few more times while presenting her pussy to his mouth. He stared, but didn't know what to do. She ground it against his nose and lips while attending to his erection. He had never been so excited, or so embarrassed. Finally she pulled up, straddled her reclining victim, stooped down and fed his cock inside her.