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Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 2

By: Jigs



This is a continuation of the story of Sexy Sally, her husband Harry, and Harry's Boss, Bob Simpson. The time is the next morning after Boss Bob Simpson has seduced Sally, Harry's wife and turned her into his slut mistress.

------------------------------------The Morning After

I awoke about 11 o'clock the next morning. Bob was already up and gone, but he had left me a note on my bedroom door. As was his way, Boss Bob had taken over, and as usual, of all the details had been considered and deftly handled. 

"Dear Harry; I called the maid and told her not to come in until two o'clock. Have Sally up and dressed by that time. I gave the maid the day off just as soon as she straightens things up. She should be gone by four. Dinner will be sent up from the restaurant at the regular time. I'll be back by then. I suggest that you use Sally for your pleasure this afternoon. I have 'dibbs' on her cunt for this evening. Your first lesson in sharing your wife with another man: Sluts thrive on cock. Tell my new mistress I expect her to be naked, wet, and ready to service mine when I get home. See you at eight thirty. Boss Bob"

In Bob's bedroom I found Sally naked on the floor, tied at the wrists with her arms around a leg of the bed. Her eyes were open, but a little glassy, not yet fully awake. I untied her hands, stood her up, and hugged her to me before putting her on the bed. She lay there, limp and silent, while I drew her bath. When the tub was full I helped her to her feet again and into the warm water. Neither of us had yet spoken the first word to the other by the time I left the apartment to bring us back sandwiches for lunch.

When I returned, Sally was dressed and sitting at the dining room table. The room was still a mess from the drinking bout the night before. I put the sandwiches out on the table and she brought in a pot of coffee she had made while I was out. We sat there, nibbling our sandwiches, but still saying nothing as we faced each other for the first time since our life together had so suddenly spun out of control.

I was the first to break the silence. "Well, what do we do now?" 

Sally said nothing. She just sat there trembling as if this would all go away if she could only wake up from this strange dream. 

I pressed on, however. 

"Talk to me damn it, I've got to know what you want. Do you want to go on fucking Bob Simpson, or do I resign, and we move to Woebegone Nebraska in the hope I can start a new career there. Can you give up the way we live? Can you give up that ten inches of hard meat between Boss Bob's legs? It's all up to you. I love you Sally, so much so that I'll share you with him if that is what you want; or I can quit and we can both leave Boss Bob Simpson and never see him again--but you've got to decide. After all, its your pussy that's up for grabs here. I get to use it either way, so I can go either way. It makes no difference to me." 

It took a while, but finally an answer came in a hoarse whisper. 

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Sally at last began. "I love you too, or at least I was sure I did before last night. Last night, though, his cock was a magic carpet. I rode it to heights where I have never been before. No, I don't want to start over in Nebraska, and no, I can't give up the way we live. And no, I can't give up the Boss meat, either." 

"You see," Sally continued, "I want to be his mistress, his slut. Last night when I was on my knees swearing that I loved him, and that I would do anything if only he would fuck me--I wasn't just saying that because of what he was doing to me right then. Oh, that was part of it, but there was nothing momentary about the promises I was making. You were there. You know. He made things quite clear..., he would not fuck me unless I surrendered totaly and became his concubine. I did so. I have no regret."

Sally shuddered slightly, and she was beginning to cry. I was hard for her but she went on. 

"Yes, I want his cock inside me over and over again for the rest of my life. He will do that only if am his mistress and slut..., and that is what I have agreed to be. I can no longer choose for myself. My heart may still belong to you, but my slut body, my horny cunt, they belong to Bob Simpson now, God help me."

I looked into her eyes filled with tears and struggled for some argument against what she was telling me. "You know he doesn't love you. Sally. You're just a plaything he can use to amuse himself with, and you'll never be anything else." 

I handed her the note he had left me. "Here, read this."

Sally read it, and began to cry harder. 

"Not exactly a love letter is it?" she sobbed. "But then I didn't expect it to be. At the end last night, when he led me away hard fucked and stark naked with robe sash around my neck, I knew it all. I had been captured by a lusty old pirate with a big dick who as going to make a whore of me. That's all your big time boss is you know. He's a pirate. In our century we may call him an business executive, but he's really just an old fashioned buccaneer with a college education and the same big dick I'll bet Blackbeard had. Its not really surprising that after a hard days sailing on the Corporate Main that he needs a woman eager to spread her legs for him."

"So," she continued on, "When Boss Bob gets home tonight he will indeed find this slut bitch naked with her pussy wet and ready for him. And yes, if you are willing, the freshly fucked whore he shares with you. As humbling as all that may be, it's a small price to pay to have him stick me again with his tongue and his cock."

She began to dry her eyes then and took my hand and gave it a squeeze. 

"It's not all bad," she said, "The good news is that you'll keep your job and make us a lot of money so we can keep on living here. And I'll have your cock, and your Boss's too, though I suspect you may get to use my pussy less than you think. However that may be though, I'm sure there will be no shortage of hard-ons for me to service. I've heard that pirates often lend their women to friends and guests."

Our day thereafter went by almost normally. Sally did seem to be a little quiet, and once or twice I caught her eyes filling with tears that she would fight back. As evening approached she became more and more lost inside herself. After dinner I heard her mumbling under her breath, preoccupied as if she was trying to straighten her mind by vocalizing her thoughts. 

Around 6 pm she showered, did her hair, and after she had powdered and perfumed herself, she came to me, fresh, sweet, and naked from her toilet, and asked me to please fuck her. She looked absolutely beautiful and delicious, and I was more than happy to oblige her request. Before I stuck my cock in her, however, I stroked and petted her for a long time trying to show how much I loved her. I even ate her pussy. I'm certain she enjoyed that, although she didn't have quite the same frantic reaction as she had to Boss Bob's talented tongue. When I laid her on her back for a missionary fuck, she surprised me by asking for something else.

"No Harry, I'm a slut now, remember. Please, I want you to take me like the bitch I am. I want you to dog fuck me over the arm of the couch."

And, that was the way I took her..., with her ass in the air..., like a bitch. Poor Sally, she was really into this slut thing. The whole time I was fucking her she was begging me for more, something she has never done for me before. I'm certain that she came at least three, maybe four, times before I got off in her. Sally hasn't had a multiple orgasm on my cock since our honeymoon. When we finished she crawled between my legs, and began to orally clean my cock. This was another first in our married life. Sally had never before taken my cock in her mouth while it was still wet and soiled with our joint love cum. God, but it was nice. We were still at it that way, Sally on her knees sucking on my now soft cock when Bob arrived home.

----------------------------Sally makes her commitment

"Now there is a pretty picture," Bob said as he entered the room, and then with a grin he asked, "Is it time for my turn yet." 

Sally left me, and rose to her feet to hug her new lover. "Yes, Boss Bob, it is your turn now," she told him. 

"Good!" he grunted in reply, "Go to my dresser, top drawer, and bring me the big black dildo."

When she returned with the plastic penis, Bob took a seat on the sofa with Sally standing in front of him, her legs spread wide. Bob parted the sensitive lips below her blond pussy hair and ran two fingers into her slit. They came out wet with her juices just as he had demanded in his morning note. Satisfied with what he had found, he fed his two sopping fingers into her mouth. 

Sally didn't need to be told she was to suck them clean. Even as she sucked her own fingers, Bob slid the big black dildo, driving it home with a single thrust. The thing was every bit as big as Bob's cock and Sally caught her breath abruptly from the shock and pain of this sudden assault on her sensitive core. 

"Very good! Excellent!" he said. "Sally you are indeed going to be a prize mistress for me. "Hold that in there with your pussy muscles slut, but don't get off on it. Go to the foyer, and bring me the two small jewelers boxes on the table there.."

It was not easy for Sally to walk and at the same time hold the artificial cock her pussy, but by squeezing her thighs together as much as possible, and taking very small steps, she somehow managed. She stood before him and offered him the two small jewelry boxes she had brought back. Bob looked into her eyes and told her, "It is tine that you be marked as my mistress," he told her. 

Out of the first box she brought back came a gold anklet with diamonds around the edge of an ID plate that was inscribed on both sides. On one side it said., "Boss Bob's Slut." On the other it said, "Boss Bob's Whore." Bob put it around Sally's right ankle, and with a pair of pliers from his pocket he destroyed the catch. 

As she watched her lover fuse the chain, Sally's blushed a bright red and I could see her nipples harden. My poor Sally, she may have been humiliated by the brands of 'Slut' and 'Whore' that were now permanently affixed to her ankle, but she was equally stimulated by the thought of what they meant.

From the second box came a small gold ring. Neither Sally nor I had a clue as to "what it was before Bob spoke up to explain. This is a clit ring," he told us. 'The surgeon will insert this thru the foreskin. When you become aroused Sally. this little ring will rub against your clit and further stimulate you to your new calling. It has other practical uses as well. If you ever prove resistive, nothing reminds a female of her place and proper use than to led away to her bed by her pussy ring." 

"Now my sexy little whore," Bob asked, "Tell me again that you are my slut"

Boss Bob's demand for commitment hung like a sword in the air over Sally's collared neck. It took Sally a moment or two to gather herself for a reply, and for those few seconds we all just hung there as if time had stopped. 

Finally, she began to speak slowly. 

"Yes Boss Bob Sir, I am your slut, your whore, for as long as you will fuck me with your big cock."

"You understand," Bob interrupted, "that I will demand much of you. You will remain married to Harry and continue to occupy his bed when I am not using you. Corporate propriety requires that all appearances be maintained. Harry, however, will not be the only one I will share you with. My mistresses, and there will always be several, are company property. When business demands it, they all, you included, are required to serve as company whores. I may use you to impress important people with my macho authority by requiring you to publicly suck my cock. Or you may be displayed naked before being sent to service business associates and customers, both male and female, as a whore. Are you truly willing to accept that and possibly more, no matter how painful, shameful, or perverted?"

"Oh yes Sir," Sally responded, her voice now husky with desire. "Do with your slut as you please. Display me naked in front of my friends. Make me beg to suck your cock as they listen. Squeeze your cock between my tits and jack off in my face as they watch. Put me on my hands and knees and fuck my asshole. And yes, I know there will be other penises for me to pleasure with my warm wet pussy and mouth." 

In the quiet pause that followed her speech, however, Sally went on to ask her master for two special favors. 

"Although I know you do not love me, that I am only a warm sleeve for your cock, and can never be anything more, you must promise to fuck me often; and oh yes, if I please you, you must reward me by eating my horny pussy. 

"Beyond that." Sally continued, "I ask only that my dear Harry, who I do truly love, shall continue to be treated fairly and with respect. That I am a slut is my shame and mine alone. Harry should not suffer because of the fire that burns between his wife's legs."

"Save only for these two small favors, I do freely acknowledge and agree that henceforth I am Boss Bob's mistress, slut and whore."

All this was more eloquence than I would have believed Sally was capable. I understood now why she had been lost in thought this afternoon, and why she was talking to herself under her breath. She had not been struggling with her decision, or mourning our lost life together, as I had thought. She had guessed that this little scene was coming, and she had been practicing her God damn acceptance speech. I was a little put out that she had spent our last afternoon of freedom together that way, but then I thought, damn, what a class act!

Bob stood up from the sofa and said, "Fair enough then, it is time I enjoyed my slut's horny wet pussy. Take that dildo out of there Sally and put it in your mouth." 

With that Boss Bob took my pretty wife by the hand and led her from the room, horny, naked, and her face stuffed with a big black plastic dildo. Sally didn't seem the least bit reluctant to go with him.

Bob, however, hesitated a few seconds before leaving, as if there was something he wanted to tell me, but was unsure of just how to say it. After gathering his thoughts for a moment of two, he finally came out with it

"And, ah, oh yes..., Harry. I'm expecting a guest to arrive in the next half hour or so. I would appreciate it if you would stay up a few minutes to show my guest to my bedroom. It's a sort of a surprise I have arranged for Sally."

I asked him, "What kind of surprise?"

"Well," he answered, "I don't want to say because its sort of a surprise for you too, although not really. I'm sure you probably have guessed at it over the years. Sally, I'm afraid, isn't going to be too fond of my surprise, but eventually you're going to enjoy it a lot."

Sally was waiting impatiently without much interest until Bob said that line about her not likely to be fond of this surprise. 

"What..." she started to ask before Bob brought her up short, and again headed for the hall. 

Then while still at he door, he turned and asked, "you will do me that little favor won't you?" 

I said I would, and he went on into his room, a naked Sally following him along like a happy puppy. About twenty minutes or so later the phone rang. It was the security man in the parking garage range. 

"Mr. Fountain," he said, "There's a lady down here who says she has an appointment with Mr. Simpson."

"Send her on up Pete," I replied. Five minutes later the door bell rang. I opened the door and invited Bob's guest to come in. 

It was Darla MacIntire!

---------------------------------Sally's bad night

Darla, as usual, was gorgeous. Her Red Hair was down around her shoulders. She was wearing a cocktail dress with a short hemline and an open bosom that showed a lot of bare tit. Over her shoulder was a small airline carry-on bag.

"Well, good evening Darla," I greeted her.

"Hello Harry," she replied. "Can we just let it go at that for now?" 

Before I could ask further, she cut our conversation short. 

"It's a long story, Harry, but I think you can figure most of it out for yourself. I'll give you the details some other time if Boss Bob will let me. For now though, he is expecting me, and I had better not be late. Please show me to his bedroom."

I didn't try to answer. I nodded, took her by the arm and escorted her down the hall and up the stairs to Bob's room. I knocked on the door, and Bob's voice rang out loudly, "Come in Darla." 

As she entered, I caught a glimpse of Bob sitting on the bed with Sally standing in front of him with her legs spread. In one hand she was squeezing a tit, and with the other she was fucking her cunt with that big black dildo. That was all I had a chance to see. Darla entered quickly and closed the door behind her.

I went on to bed. There seemed nothing else I could do. I found it hard to get to sleep, and I watched the late shows on television for a while trying to drop off. Even over the sound from the TV, however, I could hear an occasional shriek from Bob's room. Then things seemed to quiet down, and about three thirty I finally dropped off to sleep, my TV still on.

I slept soundly. When I finally awoke, the sun was well up, the TV was off, and Sally was in bed with me. She already had her lips around my cock. My erection had begun to grow, and I just lay there pretending to be still asleep while I enjoyed the moment and the softness of her mouth. I couldn't keep faking it very long, though. In just 48 hours Sally had become a much improved cocksucker. I stopped pretending, grabbed her by the head and began to fuck her face with my hips.

It didn't take her long to finish me. I shot my load into Sally's mouth and she swallowed like the little whore she has become. Even then she wouldn't quit. As if cleaning her plate after a tasty meal, she continued suck on me for whatever I had left. When a woman does that after the man's big wad is gone, her suction reaches through the penis all the way into his scrotum and balls. Fells good sometimes, but it hurts some too.

Now that I was back in the world, however, I could see that Sally was hurting a lot worse than I was. She began to cry as she explained, "Oh Harry, it was awful, just awful. I've never been in bed with another woman before, and when I objected he put me over his knees and spanked me..., hard. He told me I would like having sex with another woman after Darla sucked my cunt..., and I had sucked hers. I could either get used to it, or leave. He said he didn't need me, but he knew I needed him! The BASTARD!"

"Well we're making progress anyway," I told her. "At least by this morning you know he's a bastard."

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed, "I've always known he was a bastard. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Its got a lot to do with it, I replied. "There's more at stake now than just some big cock for you to tickle your ovaries with. Damn it, fucking you was one thing, but now he's beating you. You know as well as I do that next time it won't be his hand, it will be a whip. If you've had enough, we can pack up and get the hell out of here. You'll never have to let the bastard hit you again."

My wife's crying jag was easing now. 

"Poor Harry," she said as she dried her eyes on the sheet. "You still don't understand do you? I can't leave. He owns me, or at least that thing between his legs does. Of course he will beat me. Horny old pirates always beat the women they capture from the Spanish main, and like I told you yesterday, he's just another pirate with a big dick. Nothing changed last night; I was spanked and made to kiss another woman's cunt, that's all. I'm exactly the same slut this morning I was last. I was Boss Bob's slut, his whore then, and that's what I am now. It says so on the ID around my ankle, and it is Boss Bob's right to beat his whore whenever he wants." 


Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 2



Sally never gave me a chance to answer. Before I could get a word in edgewise, she went on, "But about last night in his room; let me start over at the beginning. I was sent here with instructions. You have had the blow job I was to give you. Now I'm supposed to tell you everything that happened to me last night."

"It wasn't much fun, I can tell you that," She began. "As soon as we got to his room he sat on the bed while I frigged myself with a dildo. He made me keep at it even after Darla arrived. While I was pumping that thing in and out of my pussy, I had to beg him over and over to let me suck his cock. I was ashamed to do that with Darla there. I didn't want her to see me acting like a horny slut, but I couldn't help myself. I WAS a horny slut, and groveling for a cock is what horny sluts do."

Sally took a deep breath before continuing. 

"He had Darla strip, and that made feel a little better that the bitch wasn't getting any favors. I even ready to gloat, but then I realized that I wasn't doing any better that she was..., standing there naked, fuckin myself with that damned plastic cock. I've got to admit though, it was all very erotic...,a redheaded slut sucking cock while a blond slut jacked herself off."

"Then he told me to lay on the bed, while Darla ate my pussy. I've never done the lez thing before. I didn't want to do it now, but if Boss Bob wanted to see a woman lick my pussy, I had to go through with it. I spread my legs and Darla dived in. I've got to admit she felt pretty good too. She was more gentle than most guy are. She spread the lips of my vagina, and used her tongue to lick me good. I could have easily cum in her mouth, but Bob ordered me not to, and I choked it back."

"As I lay there trying to hold off my orgasm, Bob came over and took Darla from between my legs. He rolled her over on her back and told me, 'It's Darla's turn now Sally. Eat her pussy! Suck her good! I want you to get her ready to fuck me!'"

"I didn't want to suck a woman, and I started to cry a little. Bob said 'stop it! Do as you're told bitch, or you'll spend the night with your face tied down in her crotch.'"

"God knows, I didn't want anything like that, so I tried, I really tried, Harry, but when I put my mouth on her pussy the woman smell turned my stomach, and I started to pull away gagging a little."

Sally started to cry hard again. 

"That really made Boss Bob angry. He grabbed me by the ankles, yanked my legs apart and spanked my pussy hard with his hand. It stung so bad. I screamed for mercy, but he just yelled at me, 'you think Darla's cunt is dirty do you; well if it's so dirty then we had better have you clean it up, or would you rather go sleep with Harry. With Darla here I for sure don't need you anymore.'"

"I did it then Harry," Sally choked as she tried to explain, "Darla sat on my face as I lay there with my legs still up in the air, and I sucked her cunt. I licked her from end to end. I ran my tongue down into her crack. I spread her folds with my fingers. I found her clit with my lips, and nibbled on it. I fucked her open gash with my tongue. Then she started to cum, Harry; She came like a river right in my mouth. She begged me not to stop, and then she screamed when the really big O hit her. Her thighs closed so hard on my head, I thought she had ruptured my eardrums. In my very first try, I earned my certificate as a first class cunt licker."

"Bob decided it was time to for him to participate. He had me crawl between his legs and suck his hard-on. I naturally thought that wen he was good and hard he would fuck me. Instead, he rolled over onto his back and told Darla to mount his cock." 

"Harry," Sally went on to say, "I've never been so disappointed in my life. I wanted desperately for him to fuck me. I had earned it. I had been a good little slut bitch. I had jacked myself off in front of him. He had spanked my ass and my pussy. I had sucked his girlfriend for him. I was entitled; but God damn him, did he fuck me? He did not! He shamed me like a common whore, that's what he did! That bastard made me sit between his knees and slide the cock I had just sucked into a hard-on into Darla's pussy as she sat down on it."

"And this wasn't just any pussy either, Harry. Darla is one beautiful piece of ass. Her boobs are bigger than mine, and that red bush around her cunt is something to behold. She can really suck a cock too. I knelt there and watched her fuck Boss Bob. She is a good fuck, Harry, a really good fuck. Those long legs of hers could squeeze the life out of a man. Harry, I'm so afraid that I can't compete with a sex machine like that head to head, or should I say cunt to cunt."

"But I didn't have much time to dwell on what a sexy bitch Darla was. I wasn't even good enough to stay on the bed while he fucked her." Sally was back to sobbing now, and it was hard for her to get her story out. "I was told to kneel on the floor while they fucked. It was like I wasn't there. His attention was all on her big tits that flopped up and down every time she pumped herself on and off his rod."

"Darla had been riding the Boss's cock for about fifteen minutes when his cum flooded her cunt. Then.." Sally broke down altogether here, and for half a minute she couldn't go on..., "Then, he made me clean his cock with my mouth. As I licked him, I could taste her cunt juice. At that moment, I even hated his cock, if you can believe that; but...but, God help me, that wasn't all. Next, he had Darla spread her legs, and then...," Sally hesitated once more, "then...with strings of his cum leaking from it, that bastard made me eat her twat!"

Sally and I just sat there and looked at each other as she gathered herself enough to go on with her story. 

"Afterwards, he had me suck him hard once more, and I thought for sure that now it would be my turn...but no, as soon as I had him ready he went right back to fucking that red headed bitch. This time, he put her on her back with pillows under her hips. He pulled her knees up, calves to thighs, and knelt between them. Again, I had to take his cock and direct it into her crack. He then made me rest my head on her belly with my face between her thighs where I could run my tongue across her clit as he fucked her. 

When she began to cum, I couldn't stay there because she was bucking her hips so. Bob told me to move my mouth up to her boobs. I licked them good, Harry, just like he said to do; from her ribs up to the nipples, down her cleavage and underneath, and then back to the peaks where I could suck hard on her erect nubs."

Sally was taking faster now as if she had to get the story over with. 

"They fucked for a lot longer this time. It seemed to me that it went on forever. Darla came, and came, and came. God damn it Harry, that was my cock, and those were my orgasms, she was getting. She had stolen them from me ..., that bitch! Finally though, Boss Bob finished. And once more, he put me on my knees between Darla's thighs, and made me suck her cunt clean for a second time." 

"Did I mention before that she has a ring in the lip of her pussy just like the one Bob is going to have put in my cunt? Well, she does, and a 'Boss Bob's whore' anklet too. I guess I am not unique. I wonder how many others besides Darla and myself are out there?"

"Anyway, I went to work once more on Darla's crack. Darla must have still been hanging right on the edge because as soon as my tongue slid down her slit, she went off again right in my face. She calmed down a little after that, and I was able to finish cleaning the Boss's jism out of her without so nearly drowning in her female cum as I had before." 

"When I was finished I was given my Boss's cock to suck on. By now, I was so grateful to have it at all that I didn't even mind her taste being on it. After I had sucked on him for a while, Bob announced it was time for my 'confessional". He said he didn't want a mistress who wasn't experienced. He wanted to hear in detail about every cock I have ever had in my hands, my mouth or my cunt, including all the whens, wheres, and hows." 

"All the while he was laying on the bed with Darla in his lap playing with her tits. If I hesitated at all, he would threaten to send me back to you, I tried to evade his questions as much as I could, but Bob was too sharp for me. He caught me in every lie, and in every evasion. By the time it was over I had told him all the humiliating details of all the sex I had in high school and college, even how I had teased you with my tits and pussy to trap you into marrying me."

At this point Sally blushed and began to stammer a bit in her embarrassment. 

"But that's not the worst of it, Bob said he was going to make me repeat all those dirty stories to you personally. Please don't let him do that. I can't even tell you how awful it would be for me standing naked in front of my husband describing all the sex I have had with other men. I'm not sure I could even do that, even if he beats me. It's bad enough that Darla-the-bitch knows the smutty dirt about what a slut bitch in heat I have been in the past, or the awful way I teased the boyfriends I never let actually fuck me. I couldn't stand for you to know it too."

'Damn, but I would like to hear all about it though,' I thought to myself, but I knew she was sincerely trying to protect me, so I lied to her a little, "I'll do my best honey. I'll tell Bob I don't want to hear it. If it happens, though, it happens. Trust me. It is not important. We have bigger problems than your past sex life." 
 Sally was crying again now. I held her in my arms and tried to comfort her. I asked her if she knew what was going to happen now, and she just sobbed and shook her head.

(to be continued)

In the next chapter, Darla and Harry get together and find they have much in common. I hope you will be back to find out more about what makes Boss Bob (and Darla) tick. I certainly hope so..., and will you please take a minute now and VOTE. It is after all your only price of admission to the site. Those of us who write these things feel ignored and unloved unless our stories are read and enjoyed. The only way we can know that is if you at least VOTE. If the spirit should move you, a feedback e-mail would be nice too. I promise an answer if you will include a return e-mail, but above all else, damn it, please VOTE. Many thanks from Jigs.



Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 3



This is a continuation of the story of Sexy Sally, her husband Harry, and Harry's Boss, Bob Simpson. The time is the next morning after Sally has spent a very unpleasant night in Bob Simpson's bed with Bob and another of his mistresses, Darla MacIntire.


-----------------------------------The Second Morning

After Sally had pulled herself together, she and I went to the kitchen after some coffee. There at the table, Bob was washing down a sweet roll with a glass of milk. "Did you enjoy your wife's recital this morning?" Bob asked me. 

I was pissed. I bit my tongue and didn't say anything. 

Bob was grinning like the Cheshire cat, he was enjoying Sally's humiliation too much to miss this chance to rub her nose in it. 

"It took a little encouragement, but she did a fine job eating Darla's pussy. Later she told us all about the penises in her life. Truly a remarkable past for such a sweet thing. Darla and I enjoyed her story immensely, and I'm sure Sally understands that our interest was purely therapeutic. We sometimes need to talk to someone about our little human peccadilloes. Confession is healthy, good for the soul, a cathartic of the conscience, as it were. I'm sure she will want to repeat the experience for you sometime on an otherwise dull evening."

I couldn't stand how smug he was any longer, and I snapped back at him in anger.

"Look Bob, you've gotten all you possibly could want. Sally is standing here naked wearing an ankle bracelet that calls her a slut and a whore..., your slut and whore. You've fucked her again an again. She has sucked your cock, and your girlfriend's cunt as well. She has had almost no sleep for two days. Enough is enough! Back off, damn it!" 

Bob's reaction wasn't at all what I expected. 

"You're quite right, Harry. I do push things a little too far sometimes." 

He turned then and spoke too my wife. "Sally, I want you to go to back to bed right now and get some rest. Harry and I won't bother you until this afternoon. Please be ready about three thirty in your best frock. You and I have some shopping to do. Its Sunday but the big department stores will be open, and I suspect some of the better jewelry shops as well. Later, I'll take you to dinner at the Waldorf. I'm going to fuck you when we get home of course, but no more games. I won't even keep you up late, and you can sleep with me in my bed instead of on the floor.'

Sally's eyes lit up like a roman candle. With a smile a mile wide, and hardly able to restrain her glee, she was gone in a flash. It wasn't more than a moment or two before I heard water running in our tub as she drew a bath. 

Bob offered me a sweet roll, along with his apology. 

"I'm sorry to preempt your wife, and take her out of your bed again tonight. I had meant for both of us to use her for our amusement today, but you're quite right, the poor girl needs some R & R. Still, I'll be horny again by this evening, and I'm pretty sure that she'd rather have my cock to pleasure her pussy than yours. Nothing, personal of course, but after all these years, yours is a probably little old hat as it were."

I didn't have enough sand left to even be mad at the arrogant son of a bitch. My pique had left me when I saw how happy Sally was with the bone (if you'll pardon the pun), Bob had thrown her. Why should she be pleased with him? Wasn't I the one who just went to bat for her? 

"No, no," I said to Bob wearily. "It's not a problem. I'm damn tired myself. I'll find myself something to eat and take in a movie or something."

"No, I can't have that," Bob answered. "I won't have you moping around alone, especially on my account. In fact, your afternoon and evening are already taken care of. Darla will be here at four o'clock. The Giants are playing the Dallas Cowboys on TV, and may I suggest a long leisurely blow job while you watch the game? Darla has been instructed that you are not to sleep alone tonight. She is such a lovely whore. I'm sure you will enjoy her."

I did my best to convince Bob to call Darla and cancel me off her schedule. I was very instant about it but Bob, being Bob, refused to listen. 

"Look Harry, only a fool would turn down a blow job and fuck from Darla MacIntire, but since you apparently have something against getting laid by a beautiful red head, let me sweeten my offer. Darla will not only fuck you, and suck your bone, she will tell you things about me you have never known before. She has my permission to give you all the low down about my women and my sex life. You know that Darla is privy to everything I do, and she understands me better than anybody. Who else could explain what happened to Sally? You will learn things about me you have never imagined before. You have no idea what you're missing if you don't fuck her too, but even if you keep prick in your pants, you will find her visit worth your while."

One thing about Bob Simpson. He always cuts right to the chase. Certainly, uppermost in my mind was this sudden transformation of my wife into the slut of the heretofore asexual Boss Bob. What did it all mean for me..., for Sally? I gave in, and before I left him to go back to bed, I agreed to Darla's visit. I slept the morning away along side Sally. She was dead to the world, and didn't even know I was there, but it felt nice somehow. 

About noon I awoke, showered, shaved, and went to the short order diner down the street for a hamburger. Rather than sitting around our apartment watching Sally get ready to go off with Bob, I killed time for a while in an off track betting parlor. I had lost a hundred bucks, and it was almost three thirty, before I arrived back at the apartment. 

Bob and Sally were just leaving. Her hair was back in one of those bouncy pony tails she wears so well, and she had on a new dress that showed off her body like a million dollars. Damn, but she looked good. I went in and turned on the Giant's pregame show and waited. At ten minutes to four, the phone rang. It was Pete the security guy down in the garage again. "The same lady that was here last night is back Mr. Fountain. Shall I send her up?"

"By all means, Pete," I replied, and hung up. 

Shortly the doorbell rang, and there was Darla again. Her dress was different from last night. She was more casual, and now her hair was combed out and loose. She wasn't showing as much leg or tit as she had last night, but damn, she was still one good looking woman. 

"Hello again, Harry," she greeted me, "I was told you might be lonely and like some company."

"You're a damn liar, Darla MacIntire, I replied. "Bob didn't tell you I was lonely. He told you to come here and fuck me."

"Well yes," she said smiling, "as a matter of fact that's all true, but it seemed a little crude of me to open the conversation that way. Are you disappointed? Would you rather I had said right off that I was here to give you the piece of ass Boss Bob promised?"

"Darla, the way you look," I told her, "no man could be disappointed, no matter why you are here. I'd say that you look good enough to eat, except that old saw has a double meaning, one that is a bit crude under the circumstances." 

"Let me start us over. Welcome, Darla, won't you come in."

Darla took the seat I offered her, and she came right to the point. "Do you want me to strip now?" she asked. "Bob said to start you off with my best head. The Boss likes me nude and on my knees when I suck him off." 

"No, Darla," I told her, "no offense, but I really don't want a blow job right now. I know you are here in the role of Boss Bob's mistress and the Company Whore, but this power sex fetish is Bob's fantasy, not mine. God help my stupidity, but I told him that I didn't want to screw you this afternoon, or tonight either. Now that you're here, I must admit that I'm having second thoughts about my decision, but at this moment, I don't want to even think about sex." 

I could see uncertainty and hurt in her eyes at my refusal. I didn't want that, so I smiled at her and tried to patch things up while looking for some alternative that would change the subject. 

"Forgive me Darla. That 'company whore' remark just popped out. I certainly have no right to be judgmental about something I know nothing about. My comment was inexcusably disrespectful, and I didn't mean to be..., not to you, ever. What I do want is to get out of this apartment. In answer to your original question, yes I am lonely, and yes I do want some company. Let's go somewhere, anywhere, where we can just be friends enjoying each other in the conventional way."

-------------------------------Boss Bob: Dirty Business & Sally

Twenty minutes later we were in a horse drawn cab circling through Central Park. For the first few minutes we sparred with each other, trying to joke around while we avoided what was really on our minds. 

Finally Darla said, "Harry, Let's quit this. You don't really want to swap funny stories. Bob called me again late this morning and told me you were pissed about the way Sally jumped on his cock. He asked me to explain the relationship he has with his women, and why we will do almost anything to have him fuck us. That is what you really want to talk about isn't it, Harry?"

"Of course it is Darla," I replied, "but I can appreciate what a spot that puts you in. You are not only in some kind of sexual servitude to him, you are also his trusted employee and personal confidant. I know Bob Simpson. It may be all right for me to know the outline and some scattered details, but he doesn't mean for you to tell me everything. I don't want to push you farther than you can go in good conscience."

Darla was thoughtful for a moment or two saying nothing. Then she began slowly, 

"That's all very true, but although I may be Boss Bob's slut and mistress, I have no illusions about him. He is a Son of a Bitch of the first order, and the words, 'good conscience' shouldn't be spoken in the same breath with his name. Moreover, you're not just the husband of another of his female conquests. You are my colleague whom I have worked with, and whom I like and trust. You must have guessed long ago that Bob was fucking me, but you have never once treated me like I was a tramp because of it. That's more than I can say for most of our fellow executives at that God damn corporation."

Darla went on, speaking faster now. "Anyway, you deserve all the truth. This hasn't really been sudden, you know. You and Sally were lambs for the slaughter from the very beginning. Oh, you are smart, capable, and efficient, but those things were just an unexpected bonus to Bob. They are not the reason you were hired or even the only reason for your promotions. Bob Simpson meant to slice your wife from the first time he saw her. He's just now getting around to cashing in on his investment."

I looked at her incredulously. "You mean to tell me it has taken him ten years to get around to seducing my wife? The Bob Simpson I know moves a lot faster than that."

"No," Darla replied, "I mean to tell you it took ten years for Sally's turn to come up. He's a busy man, and there have plenty of others around to amuse him in the meantime. Besides, you're a pretty talented and valuable guy to have around and it was prudent not to push something that might have unfortunate repercussions or otherwise cost him your services. There was plenty of time. Bob could afford to let his fruit ripen on the tree, but trust me, he has always meant to eventually fuck your wife." 

"Anyway, Bob always takes his time with women. Bob's seduction method is the drip, drip, drip of the Chinese water torture. Strand by strand he weaves a sensual web from our feminine desires and imaginations. We don't even realize that we have been caught until his cock is already in our pussies, and by then it is way too late to escape. 

"Before I go any farther tho," Darla continued, there are two things that you must remember when you deal with Bob from here on out."

"First, both he and Alex Carmine are front men for the Mafioso. Carmine is a high level 'capo' with one of the New York 'families,' and Bob is his first lieutenant and consigliere. The company you and I work for has grown too big and successful to be the convenient little money laundering machine as originally intended, but we still move illegal funds from time to time. Even when we aren't actually the funnel for dirty cash, we are the valve that turns the flow on and off through other pipes. You are dealing with men who have unlimited money and political power. And the company, big as it is, and rich as it is, is only the tip of the iceberg."

"Second, your phone is tapped, and that is not nearly all. Your office, and your apartment, and your car, are all full of bugs. Tiny camera lenses hidden in the pictures on the wall are watching. Bob has a digital record, vocal and visual, of everything you say or do at work or at home, including making love to your wife. You have no privacy, and haven't had at any tine since you came to work the first day. Only somewhere like this cab ride would I dare to speak about all this."

"Come on," I protested, "Alex Carmine is one of the biggest names in the business world, and a leading philanthropist. And to think that my apartment is bugged is simply ridiculous, and hidden cameras are more so."

"Trust me, its all true." Darla replied. "Carmine may donate to the Cripple Children Fund and the United Way, but that's just part of the front. In another life he's nothing but a bent nose Sicilian Mustache Pete who will cut your throat in a heart beat. The 'families' operate differently now. The muscle-bound hoods who sell dope, book bets, and pimp for the cat houses and escort services, etc., they are still out there on the streets. Now-a-days, however, there is a second level of thugs with college educations and better manners who find a way to deposit criminal profits into what appear to be legitimate business bank accounts. From there taxes are paid on it just as if it had originated as lawful profit. The money after taxes is then invested in legal enterprises and made to grow. The mob learned an important lesson when AL Capone went to jail for tax evasion. These days the mobsters accept the payment of taxes as just another kind of bribe. They know that Feds don't really care what goes on as long as the government gets its cut. The state and local police and politicians aren't any better, probably worse. More often than not they get theirs personally and off the top."

Darla's face was serious and her jaw set as she continued her story about the people I have been working for. 

"And as far as the cameras in your apartment go, why do you think the company was so willing to finance such an expensive place for you to live? Sure, you living there made it easy for Bob to get to Sally, but that was only part of it. 'They' own that damn building. Installing bugs from one end to the other was both safe and a piece of cake. Now, I know you're skeptical, but if you still don't believe you are monitored around the clock, I'll bring you a floppy disk tomorrow with pictures of Sally with her nose in my cunt."

"But, Darla," I protested, "I'm no threat. Why would they want to bug me?"

"Oh, just a lot of reasons," she answered. 'Suppose, for example, you get suspicious about who you really work for. That would be important for them to know. Then there is Sally, and me, and the others. He needs to be sure he can control his sluts. The pictures are his insurance policy. I don't mean he uses them to blackmail his women for sex. There are too many of us around more than willing to give him all the pussy he wants without that, and besides, something so stupid might go public."

Darla quit talking for a moment while she took my hand. 

"No," she continued, "the pictures are to prove, should it ever be necessary, that your wife is a whore. Soon he will arrange through an escort service run by his business associates to have Sally turn a trick or two. The Johns will be legitimate businessmen, who will sincerely believe they have bought themselves a good looking piece of ass in the usual way. What they don't know is that their names and addresses, along with pictures of their cocks in sweet Sally's mouth and cunt, will be in a digital file inside Boss Bob's computer. Should Sally ever try to turn on Bob, he has the perfect antidote to blackmail or exposure. It would be the word of a rich, respected and politically powerful corporate executive against that of a woman whom he can prove is a whore. Moreover, the legitimate Johns who were set up will be pulling every string in their political reach trying to hush the whole thing up. Cute, huh?"

"It's more than just cute," I replied. "It's absolutely unbelievable."

"Well, you'd better believe it," Darla continued, "or you and I will be dead meat on a hook. If anyone in the Boss's organization finds out I told you all this, they'll kill us both before the sun goes down. For my sake and your own, you've got to play dumb. You have no choice but to ignore the bugs and cameras, and go on like you have in the past. Otherwise, the security people that surround Bob will smell a rat, and our jig will be up. At the same time, be careful what you say and where you say it"


"O.K., then Darla, Mum's the word," I promised her, "but Sally didn't turn her pussy over to him because he is Mafia. Neither did you. Tell me, how did that happen?"

"That's a long story, Harry," Darla replied, staring at me seriously, "but before I start, can we have dinner? I slept away the morning without any breakfast. I didn't have much sleep last night as I'm sure you know all about by now. As it happened, I missed lunch as well, and I'm famished. We can eat while I talk."

"Of course," I replied, "I know just the place." 

----------------------------------Darla's Story

A little over an thirty minutes later we were seated in a hole in the wall Greek restaurant down in the Village that I regard as my personal gastronomic hideaway. We had both avoided the subject of Bob Simpson during the main course. We were finishing our meal, and were working on our deserts, when I asked Darla if she was ready to tell me more. 

"There may be a few bugs in here," I assured her, "but they are of the insect variety rather than electronic." 

"No matter," Darla said. "I have Bob's permission for whatever else I have to tell you. Only the knowledge that he, Carmine, and the company are Mafia fronts, and that they keep almost everybody under constant surveillance, are dangerous to us. On the other hand, he doesn't mind at all for you to know about his women. Matter of fact, he's rather proud of the way we turn to jelly whenever he waves his big penis at us. He has always been a bit put off that he has so few opportunities to brag to other men about what a cocksman he is."

Darla hesitated, and gave me a coy smile. "But, you said you were tired of sex? Maybe you don't want to hear the dirty stuff about how he seduced me and turned me into a whore?"

I grinned back at her. "Yeah I said that, but after spending an afternoon smelling you and your perfume, it seems that I'm not as sex weary as I thought I was."

"Well," Darla smiled back at me as she began, "at the time I applied for a job as Bob's personal girl Friday, my marriage was going into the shit can. My husband, Sam, drank heavily, but worse than that, he bet money we didn't have on slow horses and bad basketball teams. He was into the bookies for maybe $45,000 and he owned the IRS $20,000 more. The IRS guy was about to seize my car, and the bookies were threatening to break his knee cap and maybe mine as well." 

"I had loved Sam when I married him, and I wanted our little girl to grow up with a father, but I couldn't take his drinking and gambling any more. I quit a job I liked but didn't pay much, and went looking for one that did. I heard on the grape vine that Bob Simpson needed a new personal assistant. I was determined to do whatever it took to get that job. If my new boss wanted me to jump into bed with him, I was more than willing to do so right from the get go. Much to my surprise, tho, a romp on his couch wasn't a part of Bob's job interview. The subject of my sexual favors never came up, and without even a hint of a pass at my body, I was suddenly gainfully employed at a salary beyond my wildest hope."




Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 3



"With a fat new paycheck every week, I moved out on Sam, filed for divorce, found a nice apartment for my daughter, Mary Anne, and myself, and began a new life. I kept waiting for Bob to hit on me but he made no move. I'll tell you one thing, however, that was the sexiest 'no move' that a woman ever went through." 

"Women are always radiating sexual signals. We do so in an attempt to get the message across to you dumb men that we are available, and we want your attention. Its not that we are necessarily that slutty or even all that horny. Sexy signals are simply natural and automatic to us. Often they go out unconsciously when we are only fantasizing. Sometimes they are more bluntly erotic than is good for us. Fortunately for our chastity and our reputations, very few males out there are tuned in to the feminine subliminal network. Most of you men never hear anything we say unless we shout it directly into your ear." 

Darla smiled, enjoying her dig at masculine insensitivity. 

"There are a few men, however, who do hear our quiet our whining messages. Their eavesdropping tells them that we are frustrated, horny, and eager to spread our legs if the right erect penis should happen our way. They answer us in the same quiet code, assuring us that they have for us the very thing we need so badly. We are so glad to have a suitor, we can't help but signal back, and to keep you around, we hint that we just might be available for sex." 

"Boss Bob is one such predatory male who regularly taps into the female party line. Sometime early on I must have sent out the usual passive signal of a lonely female. I don't know if I expected, or even wanted, any response. It makes no difference. Bob heard me. His reply was soft, subtle and reassuring. To a woman alone and horny, the message was unmistakable. He found me beautiful and desirable. He wanted to fuck me." 

"You would never known that by anything he overtly said or did, however," Darla continued, still smiling. "To the contrary, for three months or so he was painfully correct and proper. He complemented me often, but he never said anything out of line. He managed to touch me regularly, but always in a way that seemed innocent enough. He would take my hand or arm and assist me at a revolving door, or in and out of a car. Perhaps our legs would brush when we were caught in tight quarters like that. In a crowded elevator he would be firmly crushed against my back from thigh to shoulder. His fingers would linger on my hand or arm when handing me a paper. A favorite was the file on his desk. It was always where I couldn't see what he was pointing at unless I bent over him and pressed my breast against his shoulder and cheek."

"Always he would look directly into my eyes when we were taking. Sometimes I would become lost in the depth of those black eyes, and lose track of what he was saying to me. Other times I would look up and find him staring at me, for no reason. Unlike every other man I've ever known, however, when I caught him at it, he would not drop his gaze. He just kept his eyes locked on mine until I would be the one who looked away, feeling guilty somehow, and blushing a little."

Darla paused for a moment. She had a dreamy look about her as if she was recalling a time she treasured in spite of herself. 

"As time went on he began to do things that made me uncomfortable, but at the same time left me all hot and bothered. For example, there was the way he was always smelling me. Oh, I don't mean he would come up and sniff my crotch or anything. He was very subtle and casual about it, but you could see his nostrils flare when he liked my perfume, and he was always finding ways to be up close with his nose in my hair. One of the sexiest things a man can do for a woman is to smell her, and to let her know that he is aroused by her odor. Today, when you said you had been enjoying my smell, my knees trembled a little. Every other mammal on earth attracts its mate by smell, and surely we once did too. When was it men and women forgot that and dropped it out of our courtship?"

"So there I was," Darla continued as she finished her desert, "separated from my husband, living like a nun with my ten year old daughter, while this hunk of handsome virile male was sniffing around me and sending dirty messages on a private line to my imagination. To Bob's eyes, the words 'hot to trot' must have been plainly written across my forehead in big black letters." 

"I was hired very late in the spring, and as the leaves turned that fall, Bob changed gears and began to come on to me openly and directly. His complements became bolder, goading me to arousal. At first it was nothing dirty really, only sexy and suggestive. As time went on, tho, the more bawdy he became. He would wink, and ask me if I had gotten laid during a holiday or over the weekend." 

"One of the girls in the office was a newlywed. He kidded her that since the wedding she was walking around with a constant smile on her face. I knew he wasn't really talking to her. He was talking to me. When she would go back to her desk, he would leer at me, and tell me that I too needed to find myself a man who would screw me regularly. He assured me I would be less bitchy if I did. Of course, we both understood who the man was who could improve my disposition."

The glassy look in Darla's eyes grew more and more intense as she continued to recalled her experience with Boss Bob. 

"As time went on, Bob managed more to find a way to keep me with him almost all the time. More and more often he touched me, or found an excuse to press against me, all very innocently, of course, but I knew better. Every time his leg brushed against mine, an electric shock would hit my clit. My pussy was wet from the time I arrived at work each day. It got so bad I had to wear a Kotex as a regular thing. It was ridiculous. Here was a man I had never even kissed; a man who had never indicated in any direct way that he was attracted to me; a man who had never caressed me, or even touched me in an overtly sexual way; and I'm walking around leaking juices down my leg over him."

Darla shook her head as if trying to clear it, and then went on. 

"It was one Friday evening that it finally happened. Bob and I were working late at the office, and we had just finished when he came over to where I was standing by the copy machine, pulled me to him, and kissed me hard on the lips. His tongue jammed past my teeth deep into my mouth. I could feel the growing erection that he was pushing hard against my belly."

"I reacted like a bitch in heat. Whatever he wanted of me, I would do. When he told me to strip for him, I couldn't get my clothes off fast enough. Then he had me undress him. I was in such a frenzy that I could hardly manage the buttons on his shirt. I went to my knees to get his pants off and pull his jockey shorts down; and there it was, all ten inches or so of it, right in front of my face, already partly erect." 

"I knew what he wanted, and I wanted the same thing. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and began to suck the head of that huge male thing for all I was worth. After all these months of sparring, having his hardening penis in my mouth released all the tension from my gut. The feeling of relief was incredible."

"It is that release that does it for him, Harry, not his dick," Darla said as she continued. "He picks at us, and picks at us, until we convince ourselves that sex with him would be the greatest any woman ever had. Sure enough, when he finally fucks us, it always is. Our anticipation has never failed him..., or disappointed the woman. Does all this sound familiar, Harry? Isn't this exactly the same as what he did to poor Sally?"

"You really can't blame Sally," Darla told me. "We females become convinced that we'll die without this man's big cock in us. I know because I've been there; on my knees sucking the penis of a man who had kissed me exactly once, and that was only minutes before; on my knees starving to be screwed by a man who did not love me, hadn't said he did, and who wanted my body with nothing offered in exchange but a ride on his cock."

"What makes a woman crumble like that? Who knows? Is Bob the evil Rasputin reincarnated? He must be! Who else could know exactly how to cloud the female mind with such an overwhelming power of suggestion. Over and over he plants dirty thoughts about his big prick in our heads so that when it is finally offered to us, it just has to be the best prick in all the world. Bob has a good one, of course, but it would make no difference if he didn't. For weeks before my big day, I had been fucking myself over and over with his imaginary prick. I was addicted to the damn thing long before I ever even saw it. By the time I had it in my hand, it would have been irresistible to me if it had only been three inches long." 

Darla stopped here for quite a long time. It was as if all this was becoming too painful to go on. We sat there, sipping on our coffee, neither of us saying anything, until finally she was ready to go on. 

"Anyway, there I was on my knees by the copy machine worshipping the penis I had been lusting after. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so that I was staring up into his eyes. 'Do you want me to fuck you,' he asked. I didn't answer. I couldn't see why an answer was necessary. Then it was no longer a question but a demand, 'If you want boss meat, Darla, you must beg for it.' Sound familiar to you, Harry? It should. On the tape from the bug in your bedroom, I heard him work poor Sally in almost the exact same way ."

"Well of course I begged him. To have him fuck me was the only thing in life I did want right then. In those first moments, the nature of our relationship was established forever. Whenever I want his cock, I must beg him for it. If I beg with sufficient passion, he will fuck me. He fucked me twice that first night, and I begged him for it, long and hard, both times. He ate me once, but only after I had begged him to do me, of course. I sucked him off once. Of course I had to beg him to let me do that too."

Darla looked as if she was ready to cry, but she kept on with her story, talking faster now as if to get it all out and over with. 

"I was on my knees, a prisoner between his thighs, when he explained my new life to me. He said he owned me, that every hole in my body was his to use. I said I didn't care! He said he would stick his cock in my mouth, in my cunt, and up my ass whenever he pleased. I said I didn't care! He said he would beat me, degrade me, give me to other men and women as a sex toy. I said I didn't care! We have both kept our word. He has treated me like a common whore. I haven't cared. He has done all of the humiliating degrading things to me he said he would, and I haven't cared. You just can't imagine the things I have let him do to me, Harry! God, he made me stand me naked on a coffee table, showing my wares as he put it, while he auctioned me off to his hoodlum pals for a night of fun and games. I still didn't care. He keeps my pussy stuffed, that is enough. I have become such a whore."

Telling me all this was obviously becoming more and more a trauma to Darla. I tried it interrupt and say that I had heard enough, but Darla wouldn't stop. 

"No, Harry, I'm not through. You haven't heard all of it yet. Please let me go on."

Taking a deep breath, she began her story once more. 

"He made me call off my divorce, and go back to living with Sam. He said that he couldn't afford to have a mistress from the office who wasn't on record as a happily married woman. Still, he didn't pull any punches when he told Sam all about my infidelity and what a slut I had been. He didn't miss one single dirty detail. Then, just to show off, Bob made me strip buck ass naked right then and there. I was humiliated, but the bastard had something even worse in mind for me. He made me crawl on my hands and knees to between his legs, take his cock out of his fly, and suck him off while my erstwhile husband watched. I had just swallowed his load when Bob first suggested to Sam that to be fair he would 'buy me'."

Darla's face blushed with shame as she went on with her story. 

"Bob was in a generous mood. After some sham negotiation, he agreed to pay off Sam's debts to the bookies and the IRS. To sweeten the deal, he agreed that Sam could continue to fuck me whenever Bob didn't have some other use for my pussy. Since then Bob's hoodlum friends have given Sam tips on fixed races sufficient to keep him out of serious debt. The tips are sporadic, tho. The come just often enough to keep Sam only intermittently solvent. That way Sam is always under pressure to be a good boy and not make trouble for Bob." 

That was my market value, Harry," Darla said, almost in a whisper. "Seventy five thousand dollars, maybe a little more, and a few insider tips on the races. I refuse to count Sam's occasional use of my mouth or pussy, as part of the payment. That was thrown in as a seller's bonus because it didn't really cost the Bob anything, and he enjoyed shaming me like that. Anyway that was the deal that was made! Sale closed! This red headed slut had a new owner!

It made me mad as hell to listen to them bicker over my price, but I was not angry with Bob. He didn't need to pay Sam anything, and he knew it. It was all a game to Bob, one more humiliation for his new mistress to live with. I understood that. No, it was Sam that angered me. He had never 'owned' me, nor did he have any right to sell me. I'm sure Bob knew that, but the charade of 'buying me' from my husband tickled his fancy somehow." 

Tears were just starting to well up to Darla's eyes now. 

"Bob wouldn't let the thing end there tho. It wasn't humbling enough that I had to listen to the two of them negotiate a price for my cunt while I knelt naked on the floor with Bob's spent dick in my mouth. Oh, No, Bob just had to put icing on the cake! After the deal was struck, he insisted that Sam give him a bill of sale for me. The bastard even had it framed and hung on the wall of his private den. It made a nice trophy, and it reminds me always that I was purchased like a cow on the cattle market."

Darla's hands were gripping the arms of her chair in frustration as she continued. 

"Bob has always kept women around for his amusement. He may not have a bill of sale for the others like he does for me, but since he treats everyone around him as his property, you included Harry, his women could hardly expect anything different. He had his hooks into two other women when he took me over, and he has had three more since. Whenever he becomes bored with a mistress, he sheds her and goes on to the next one. His little digital record of their unsuspecting prostitution insures they never make trouble afterwards. Surprisingly often, one of his thug business partners will want to take over his castoff. Not so surprisingly, after her alternatives are explained, and she is made an offer she can't refuse, the poor woman always agrees to accept a new lover in Bob's place. I heard that one of his ex's was in such demand that Bob auctioned her off. As the story goes, Bob made a kind of party game out of it. After a fine gourmet meal with his criminal associates, Bob made the woman stand nude on the dining room table while the gangsters bid for her services as a slut." 

"I believe the story. Bob likes to show off like that. Once he made me the merchandise in a similar auction, except that my 'sale' was only for the evening. I didn't know that at the time tho, and I was scared to death. Bob thought it was terribly funny, but for me it was an absolutely horrible experience. I know who the men were who were bidding for me. Some of them operate whore houses, and I suspect that when they buy a cunt, as often as not it is for business rather than personal use. I try not to think about it, but I'm so afraid that one day Bob will get rid of me to a proprietor of whore house. I may be a slut, but I don't want to end up in a crib as a professional prostitute. I'm closing in on forty now Harry. I am surprised that Bob has kept me around as long as he has, but maybe what I do for him at the office is more valuable to him than the few bucks he can get for my cunt, at least I keep hoping so. 

Here I again tried to interrupt, but Darla would have none of it. 

"No, Harry, you can't imagine how evil and cruel Bob Simpson is. There is more..., may God help me, something a lot worse than spreading my legs for him. Until Sally gave herself to him the other night, Bob's stable of concubines was down to just two women. Those two were myself and my daughter Mary Anne."

Darla tears had begun to come in a flood, and her distress at what she was telling me was clearly both extreme and painful. 

"That's right, Harry, to keep Bob Simpson's cock pleasuring my pussy, I have even allowed my daughter to be caught up in his dirt. Mary Anne had just turned eighteen when Bob's antennae began to pick up her signals. No female sends louder sex messages than a teenager, and Bob, as usual, sent all the right answers back.

Mary Anne thought Bob was just the dreamiest man on earth, and I was in no position to warn her otherwise. I couldn't tell my daughter that I was already the man's slut and company whore now could I? As things turned out, I might as well have. Mary Anne eventually found out anyway, and both of us might have been better off if she had known the whole story up front..., but then, knowing Bob, maybe nothing I could have done would have made any difference." 

"Anyway, after a leisurely dose of Bob's usual subtle courtship, poor Mary Anne was so hot to trot that she was absolutely beside herself. When Bob was finally ready to make his move he wanted me to give him Mary Anne..., to fuck of course altho he put it differently. He wanted "to date her" he said, but we both knew how that would end up. I refused at first, but he hung me by my wrists from a ceiling beam, and with my toes just barely touching the floor, he whipped me.., hard. When he finished, he took me down and fucked me on the floor. Then he hung me up again and whipped me once more, but that time he refused to fuck me. That did it! I could take the beating, but I couldn't give up that thing between his legs. I gave in. I said He could 'date' her." 

"Bob took Mary Anne to the very best night clubs, restaurants, and Broadway shows. He wined her, he dined her, and in less than two weeks he had fucked her. Three weeks later, Bob as usual had to show off. He brought my daughter home half soused in the wee hours of the morning, and while I watched, my sweet little daughter knelt naked between that bastard's legs and jacked him off with her tits. He shot his cum on her face and tits..., and then..., then he made me lick it off her. He finished the evening by fucking me while Mary Anne licked his balls and my clit."

"It was only a couple of nights later when Bob brought over one of his Mafia hoods, and they fucked both Mary Anne and myself on the rug of my living room. There we were, my mouth around a stranger's cock, Mary Anne's tongue in my pussy, and Bob's cock buried in Mary Anne. Then we switched. I have never been so ashamed as I was on that night, but there was nothing that I could do about it. Bob Simpson owned me. It had been years since I first knelt at his feet and begged him to fuck me, and my lust for his penis was as overwhelming as ever. That's the only excuse I have for laying on my back with some gangster's prick in me while I licked my own daughter's cunt. May God help me, how could I be so weak and degraded that I would let him make my darling Mary Anne into another one of his whores?"

"Can we back to your to your place now, Harry? I want you to fuck me, and then spend the night laying against you," Darla asked. And that's where we went.




Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 3



(to be continued)

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Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 4



 I have sadly neglected Harry and his wife Sally. For those who missed the first three chapters, or who might have forgotten where I left off, Harry’s Boss Bob has seduced Sally and made her his mistress and sex slave. Harry his spent the day with Darla, Bob’s executive secretary and another of his mistresses, and our story resumes with the return of Harry and Darla to Harry’s apartment. Enjoy, and don’t forget to vote. 

---------------Darla in my bed

Bob and Sally were not back yet by the time Darla and I arrived at home. We went straight to my bedroom where she stripped, retrieved from her purse a leather dog collar with a leash attached to its big brass ring, then knelt between my knees. Uncertain where she was taking us I sat on the edge of the bed and waited in quiet anticipation. 

With tears in her eyes she handed me the collar and leash, begging, “I make you a gift of my body. Be stern with me. Buckle this hateful thing around my neck and use it to make me obey. Demand your pleasure. Fuck my mouth! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my ass! Beat me if I fail to pleasure you properly! If you are not cruel I may forget what I am and why I am in your bed, and that must not happen. A whore is more fragile than common myth. She must never fall in love with the penis she services lest her heart be broken.”

Darla’s eyes were filled with tears as she began to remove my shoes and socks, then my pants and underwear, and finally my shirt. Me, I was torn between two desires. 

On one hand my heart ached with tender and loving emotion. I truly cared for this lovely tortured woman, and I wanted to take her in my arms to cuddle and reassure her. I wanted to ‘make love’ to her in the truest sense and meaning of those words. On the other hand, a beautiful woman was naked kneeling between my thighs begging to be my slave. A woman begging to be sexually used! That was an opportunity sending a stream of dirty pictures racing thru my imagination. 

In the first of those images Darla is bent over the arm of a chair. Her wrists are tied behind her back, and her face and breasts are pressed forward onto the seat. She is moaning with a delicious mixture of humiliation and orgasmic pleasure as I dog fuck her, filling first her pussy and then her ass with male meat. Delightful, but my imagination shifts. Next, her arms are still tied behind her back, but now she is mounted on my cock riding my erection for all she is worth. My hands are on her tits, my fingers pinch her nipples, and in her pain she frantically pumps her warm slick cunt up and down my length, swallowing and then releasing me. 

These little cameo scenes are so tempting and delightful! How could any man refuse them? To own a woman, to hold absolute power over her and her sex, is heady and very nearly irresistible stuff. Her collar and leash were in my hand. I have only to attach them to her neck and she will be my property, helpless and unable to resist any outrageous demand on her lovely body. 





“What the hell,” I finally said to myself as I buckled that black strap around her lovely throat. “I’m no saint. She wants to be my sex slave does she? Well so be it!” 

With that thought I yanked her to her feet by her leash, and barked orders. “Stand up bitch! Arms up! Hands behind your head! Fingers locked! Spread your feet! Stick out your tits! For God’s sake woman, drop your eyes! Show some submission, some shame!”

In that twinkling, this lovely redheaded animal became my slave, her charms on display before me, her every private erotic zone exposed and vulnerable to my hands and mouth. Between a thumb and forefinger I squeezed down hard on a nipple. Her mouth dropped open and she moaned at the pain in her tit. With the other hand I buried a social finger inside her slit and closed the butt of my thumb down hard on her clitoris. 

Even as I squeezed her sex tightly in the vice of my palm, I raised my arm lifting her upward onto her toes. She teetered there struggling awkwardly to regain her balance. She was mine, and I held her there without pity as the seconds ticked by, demonstrating (and enjoying more than I care to admit) my newly found master’s right to do with her as I pleased. 

“Well woman,” I asked. “You want it rough do you? What do you think a cruel and demanding master should do to a slave bitch like you?”

“Fuck me! Please fuck me master! God, but I do so need you to fuck me!” came the gasping reply. 

“All in good time my dear. All in good time,” I answered not the least inclined to grant mercy to my tortured love slave. “But first, where should I fuck you? Should I begin by fucking your mouth?”

“Oh yes master! Fuck my mouth! Let me suck the head of your prick, then ram it down my throat. Make me swallow you all the way to your balls. Use my mouth as a pussy! Pump my throat with your prick! Masturbate over my tongue! Yessss, pleeassse, God how I want to taste you! Please! PLEASE, fuck my mouth! 

“Tempting I must say,” I told her. Truth was, the thought of fucking her mouth was a lot more than just tempting, but I couldn’t let this redheaded vixen control the situation. “No,” I said. “You’re a bit too eager. How about your ass? Should I fuck you up your ass? 

“Yes, Please Master! Oh please fuck my ass! I will hold my cheeks apart so that you can spear my butt hole. I beg you to fuck my ass,” came her quick reply.

I had never experienced any thing like this before. I was dismayed to find how quickly owning a horny female slave strips a man of mercy and kindness. Never the less, I could not resist my dominion over this lovely female. Quite as cruel as any Middle Eastern Sultan enjoying a concubine from his harem, I ignored my sudden burst of conscience and continued to torment my lovely captive standing before me naked on the end of her leash. 

“Of course there is always your pussy, but its entirely too soon to take you there. After you have been whipped, and you have again begged to be fucked, perhaps then I will feed your pussy with my cock.” I was so enjoying teasing my at this hapless harem girl. 

I let my arm lifting her go limp. Her weight dropped off her toes and back onto the bottoms of her feet. “Here bitch,” I commanded as I pulled my finger from her pussy and shoved it into her mouth. It was wet with her juices. “Suck on this bitch! Clean it as if it were my cock.” 

Watching her suck obediently on my finger, I knew what I wanted first from this woman. I wanted one of Bob’s ‘Shahrazad blow jobs’. “On your knees slut and suck me off!” 

Dutifully my beautiful Darla dropped her head into my crotch, licking my thighs before running her tongue over every nook and cranny around my cock and balls. Finally, those warm moist lips closed over the end of my penis, then began to rake its full length from head to root. This was my first personal experience with the ‘Shahrazad’ technique I had seen Bob teach Sally. Darla did it well. 

Outdid herself in fact. Altho I have enjoyed a female mouth many times since, I don’t think what Darla did for me that evening has ever been matched. Her lips and tongue were pure velvet, and when the time finally came for my climax, I felt as if my balls were being painfully sucked up into my belly. Even drained as I was from repeated sex over the past few days, I couldn’t last nearly as long as I would have liked. Darla swallowed all I had to give, and then let my prick gently shrink in her mouth.

When I was fully spent I told her to get on the bed and spread herself. I meant to return her favors. Darla protested that she was a slave girl, and it was her duty to suck her man’s cock, and suck it well. Her pleasure, she insisted, was none of my concern. 

There was no way, however, that she was going to put me off as if she was a whore servicing some John in a cat house. I reminded her that a slave girl’s first duty was to do as she was told. She would spread her legs for my mouth, damn it! Indeed, even better, I demanded that she use her fingers to open her pussy lips for my tongue.

“Darla MacIntire.” I told her as I crawled between her thighs, “tonight you are mine to use. I will fuck you sternly, and whip you cruelly, as you have asked, but before I do I mean to make you crawl the walls with passion. You may be the only friend I have left in a world that has turned upside down on me. I was foolish to have refused when Bob first gave you to me. My only excuse is that I did not understand that you Boss Bob’s offer of your body would be your

willing gift.” 

“Knowing that makes using you for may selfish sexual pleasure quite another thing. Before we go further with our little game of harem girl, however, I want you to know that I’m glad you’re here. In part I’m glad because you have just given me the world’s best blow job. That much goes without saying. I’m also glad, however, because at a hard time in my life, you have used your loving mouth to relieve my pain. It is only right that I should use mine to relieve yours as well.” 

I gave her pussy my tongue for a long time. I may not be as good as Bob at it, but what I lacked in ability, I tried to make up for with sincerity. I began by sucking the lip around her pussy ring. I then made Darla spread herself with her fingers, and ran my tongue deep into the open folds. I found a sensitive spot on the wall of her vagina, and gave it extra attention. 

What began as moans turned to whimpers, whimpers that changed to cries of delight when my lips squeezed her clit, only to become screams of passion when I swirled my tongue across that tender sex nub. Then began a string of orgasms the equal of any I had seen my wife Sally enjoy while impaled on Bob’s tongue. Finally Darla gave me the surrender I had been demanding, and using my ears as handles, she forced my head out of her crotch.

“Please,” she begged, “Stop! Another minute of this and my heart will quit beating. No more, please! This slave girl will do her master’s bidding, but he must fuck her now. She begs him to fuck her now.”

“Granted,” I answered as I slid upwards bringing my hips into the saddle between her thighs, “but remember, a slave woman has no right to her own pleasure. Do not let me catch you enjoying yourself while you service my cock inside your belly.” I tried my best to make my command the stern warning of a true master, but I’m sure the grin on my lips gave me away. 

Nonetheless, I would show her no mercy. In a single shove I stabbed my erection deep into her female core. I was rewarded with a soulful moan of shock and ecstasy. Now completely mine, my hips pounded her, and she matched my every thrust, jacking her velvet pussy on and off my manhood. For what seemed an eternity, Darla and I enjoyed each other in the best way a woman and man can. As we made love, I caressed her breasts and nipples with mouth and hands; I kissed her deeply with lips and tongue; and whenever I could reach an ear, I gave it my full attention.

When Darla had begged for and enjoyed her last orgasm, and I had filled her with my male seed, she hugged me to her, and said, “The only thing I don’t understand is how he could have taken Sally away from you. That was marvelous. Any woman in the world would be grateful to have such a lover.”





“A few days ago I could not have done so well,” I replied. “It’s not just a matter of copying Bob’s cocksman technique either. You have helped me understand a great deal that I never knew before. You are right, this sex business is a lot easier when I listen for the female signals. Guess what? I heard you, loud and clear.”

Darla looked at me, smiled and said, “I have been female property for too long. I don’t remember how to deal with the love thing, but if I were not already a man’s love slave, I would surely be yours. Go to Bob’s room and bring me his whip. Bring the binding wraps from my bag there. For this evening please let this poor woman pretend she belongs to you. Tie her hands behind her back and her legs spread wide. Fuck her again. Fuck her hard, and she will beg for your cock as a good concubine should. When you are finished, lash her tits with the whip that she can imagine that you will own her forever. If you can really hear my thoughts, you will know that this is what I want, what I must have.”

And so it went. I retrieved the wraps and Bob’s whip, and bound the lovely Darla, and fucked her, fucked her hard as she asked. She begged for more as she had promised she would, and I responded with all the cock I could give her. At the end, I jacked myself off between the mounds of her breasts, and when I came, I raised up and shot my cum across her nipples. Then, while she was still bound and helpless I whipped those breasts, her thighs, and the tender spot between her legs. She orgasmed even as I whipped her, and by the time I finished, the juices from her pussy, and my cum from off her breasts, were mixed together in a love potion on the thongs of the whip.

---------Darla explains being female

When we were both spent, Darla looked at me and asked, “When the time comes that Bob puts me for sale at auction, will you buy me please? I have saved some money. You may have it all to pay for me.”

“Why pay the bastard anything?” I replied. “Why wait for him to sell you? Why don’t you and I just say ‘screw you Bob,’ and take off where he can’t find us?”

“Oh, that would never work,’ Darla replied, “and you’re naive to think it would. Remember, in Boss Bob’s cruel world, he owns me. He is rich and powerful. He would find us no matter where we went. He would bring me back in chains, and I would be punished worse than you can possibly imagine. And, even if we could hide, how could we live without a job and no way to get one? And, what about Sally? You may think you could leave her behind in a trade for me, but I know you can’t. I won’t live with a man who dreams of a woman he can’t have.” 

“Anyway, I’m not sure I want to escape.”

That last statement came as a shock to me. “How can that possibly be?” I asked. “He can’t really mean anything to you. Why not shake him off and leave? We don’t really own slaves anymore. This is the millennium, the beginning of the 21st century, the age of feminism, equality of the sexes, and partnership between male and female.”

“BULL SHIT! Darla almost exploded with disgust, “The bull shit of those who can’t tell the difference between a sophomoric theory of what they would like a woman to be, and what everyone knows she actually is. Homo Sapiens has been what might be called ‘civilized’ for five, maybe ten thousand years, but we and our primate predecessors have been around for a million or so. That means for every one year in which we have cultivated crops, raised cattle, or lived in a hut, a hundred years passed in which our ancestors were no more than grunting savages, wandering hunters and gatherers, scavengers of carrion, all trying as best they could not to be eaten by some other animal as wild as they were.”

“All those wild years live on today within our genes, our hormones, and in the primitive cells of our brain stem. A few thousand years of civilization can hardly be expected to have changed us very much. True enough, along the way we have made social and technological progress. True, we slaughter each other more efficiently now, and to our credit, we take less pleasure in it than we once did. Our savagery has been coated over with a civilized veneer.”

“Still,” Darla continued, “that veneer is thin. Much of our primitive past remains within us, and survival, hate, fear, and above all sex, still dominate our thoughts. If you do not think so, why do men and women see sex, and do sex, so differently? The politically correct of our century might not agree, but sex between men and women is not only not equal, it isn’t even the same thing. 

“On the civilized conscious level,” Darla argued, “sex feels good to a man, but he will not admit even to himself what moves him to cohabitation. On his more subconscious level, the modern male still has his primitive instinct him to sire children in his genetic image, lots of them, and along with that instinct, is the urge to impregnate as many women as circumstances will allow.” 

Darla couldn’t restrain a broad grin here. “The key to the male sex drive tho, is ‘what circumstances allow.’ Mother nature has also stamped ‘hunter and warrior’ across the male genes. Just as important to a man as sex, and often more so, is the urge to go out and throw a spear, or a football, or maybe take over a corporation or two. Men like sex, but they think about it only when there isn’t something else to take their attention, like money, mealtime, the NFL and NBA playoffs, or the World Series.”

“The instincts of a woman, are a different matter.” Darla shook her head a little as she went on. “For thousands of years sex was a woman’s very survival. Nature’s woman wasn’t big and strong. When danger came, she could neither defend herself nor run fast enough to escape, and danger was all around her, all the time. If she was to keep the lion from eating her, or avoid rape by marauding males out to plant their seed in her womb, she had to have a man. She had only one way to get one..., her sex.”

“Women thought about their survival all the time,” Darla continued with certainty, “and that meant they thought about sex all the time too. We still do. Watch your children as they pass through puberty. The flow of new hormones doesn’t change the focus of our teenage boys the way it does our girls. Boys don’t suddenly give up baseball, or anything like it. True, as they start to grow hair on their faces and crotch, they also begin to sniff around the girls, but ask any teenage girl, their attentions are entirely sporadic and undependable.”

“On the other hand, as girls begin to grow breasts they spend every waking moment thinking boys, talking boys, and if at all possible, doing boys. As we become more mature as women, we learn to be less obvious about it, but nothing really changes. Getting a man is what we are about, and having done so we are loyal creatures. After our man has fucked us and made us his, do you think our survival instincts a million years old will allow us to just pick up and leave him?”

“But women do leave their men,” I protested. “You left Sam. If Sally hasn’t already left me, she’s well on her way. The divorce rate in the United States is nearly fifty percent. Moreover, there are millions of sexually dysfunctional women, and millions more who will fuck a man from time to time but who could care less about it. And what about all the lesbians? It seems to me that an awful lot of women have indeed overcome their million year instincts.”

“Well, I don’t really know where homosexuality fits in all this,” Darla replied. “I don’t have any experience with it.” All the rest of what you say, however, just goes to prove my point.”

“You see,” she continued, “we would stay with you, we want to stay with you, but as often as not, you never tap into our passions, and/or you throw us away. A woman who has not been properly captured, seduced and fucked in the primitive way may stay with her man, but then again, she may not. 

“Anyway, the decision to stay or leave may not be her choice. As often as not, even when she tries to stay, the man abandons her while he chases off after something, or someone, else. Ignored, or abandoned, either or both, the woman does what her primal instincts tell her to do. She wanders off to look for a male who will court her, fuck her, protect and support her, and above all pay some attention to her.”

“And what about frigid women, or the ones who don’t give a damn about sex?” I interrupted.

“Some of those, a small minority I think, are simply quirks of nature, born emotionally unsuitable for sex. Or, perhaps their instincts fail because of some childhood trauma that leaves them unable to give themselves unconditionally to a man. 




Sexy Sally, My Slut Wife Ch. 4



The majority of the ones we call frigid, however, are merely unlucky.” Darla sighed, and shook her head sadly. “They were normal enough at the start. They signaled and signaled for a man to come, take them, and seduce them, but they never got an answer. The modern men all around them were sexual duds, polite, politically correct, and respectful, but deaf and dumb to female signals. Finally, our disappointed and now frigid women, simply gave up and turned their sex box off. Our Judo-Christian culture not only allows a woman to escape her natural passions that way, it encourages her to do so.” 

“You see,” Darla explained, “eager as we are to belong to you and be your love slaves, you men have to do something to help. Much of the time, most of the time, you don’t even know we’re around, let alone make the effort necessary to hold us groveling at your feet. After all, we are not easy, only willing. We want you to own us, but there are pre-conditions to our commitment to you.”

“First, We must be courted and seduced, not just fucked. We may make love with many men, but we do not become truly yours until our very core has been seduced to mush. Most men know nothing about seduction. Instead of wooing us, you attack us tit and cunt. You show us your passion only when you have us cornered in bed, or on the office couch, or in the back seat of a car. To most men the beginning and end of foreplay is a handful of bare tit, and a finger in a woman’s pussy.”

“Not so! We are creatures far more erotic and sensitive than that. We think of sex in places, at times, and in ways, that are apparently beyond your masculine imagination. Much has been made of in recent years about the importance of foreplay, but as important as it is, bedroom foreplay is not a single key to seduction. The attention you pay to our erogenous zones is surely appreciated, but we almost never surrender our virtue out of a lust suddenly stirred by wandering hands. Our decision to spread our legs for you was made long before your fingers were allowed to stroke our sex.”

“If the secret isn’t in our fingers then, where is it to be found? I interrupted to ask. 

Darla and smiled as she replied, “Women are sensual animals who can be aroused anywhere, and at any time. Indeed, we are most easily approached openly and in public because we are less defensive and wary there. Be discrete certainly, but make love to us with your touch, voice and eyes; do so everywhere, all the time, not just when we are alone or in your bed. Listen always for our subliminal messages, and answer back that you desire us. Give us quiet hints and small subtle caresses throughout the day that will plant dirty pictures in our minds.”

“All right, Darla,” I said, “but all that is pretty general, but aren’t there specific things a man should and shouldn’t do to seduce a woman?”

Darla smiled again, “It is generally accepted that loving words and a gentle touch are the best way to spread a lady’s legs and open her heart. In truth, however, we don’t much care as long as we are wooed with intensity as the sensual beings that we are. Women love a man on the make. Come on to us! Let us know that you find us sexy and desirable, and want to drag us off to your bed. If we are courted with a passion, even one cruel and demeaning, we will deny you nothing, and forgive you almost anything. I am a living example of how a woman can be so overwhelmed by an evil but passionate man that she will allow him to shame and degrade her as if she was a common whore.”

I had to interrupt again. I asked, “And why do you or anyone else end up with a man who abuses you that way? Surely you knew he would do just that from the very beginning.” 

“Certainly, we knew that, but it is all simple enough,” she answered me. “We allow ourselves to be used and abused because we can not help it. We are paralyzed by the male who sniffs around at our cunts and hungers for our bodies. True enough, we often know from the first that beneath our suitor’s romantic veneer he is only another marauding male looking for a place to put his penis.” 

“That does not matter! Nor does it matter that he mistreats us even as he woos us. It is enough that he desires us, and his promise of what he will do to us once we are on our backs inflames all that is erotic in our nature. We may resist him at first, even despise him for his crudeness. It still does not matter! We will dream sexy dreams about what it might be like to have his cock in our pussies, and we can not resist these fleeting images. In time they are certain to loosen our thighs and lubricate our vaginas.”

“And once properly seduced, you will remain a man’s slave forever, no matter what?” I asked.

Darla frowned and shook her head. “No, no, no! That most certainly is not true. There have always been obligations upon the male, even when we wandered in the bush a hundred thousand years ago. Among other things we must be kept well fucked, and ever so often, even reseduced. If our emotional chains are to be permanent, we must never be allowed to clear our minds of the man who owns us, or learn that we can live without him and his cock.”

“Nor is your cock alone enough. You must also talk to us, tease us, entertain us, and generally pay us some attention, and do so regularly. Otherwise we feel abandoned even if we are not. We don’t much care what you do, just so long as we are included. Crazy as it sounds, even the anger and beatings of an abusive husband or lover are something of his that we can hold on to. He may hurt us, but at least he acknowledges that we are there, and a part of his life. The unpleasant truth is that women would rather be beaten than ignored; and if a little love and tenderness is thrown our way once and a while, we are as grateful as puppy dogs.”

“Finally,” Darla sighed, “there are practical essentials to the relationship between a male and female. The master must somehow provide us with a nest in which we are secure, and where we and our children are fed, clothed, and protected from the lions of the outside world. Such support is often crassly a matter of money, but security, financial and otherwise, is a slave’s right. It is a major reason why she will stay with her master, even when he otherwise abuses her.” 

“A case in point, tho a bit unusual in its nature, is our own circumstances. The overpaid corporate positions that you and I enjoy are major links in the chains that bind Sally and I to Bob. Something similar can be found in the relationship between most masters and their women.”

“Support, however, is not always a financial issue, nor does security always mean a nest. Women also need emotional support, some more than others. A man who can give his woman peace from the devils of her own mind has a powerful hold over her, even if he is otherwise a son of a bitch. For example, many of Bob’s conquests have been women of wealth. They didn’t need Bob’s money. All of these, however, were more or less nut cases who couldn’t cope with their lives. As Bob’s slaves, they didn’t have to cope with anything as long as they spread their legs when and where he told them to.” 

-------------Boss Bob & Sally return

It was here that we heard Bob and Sally coming in the front door. I could tell from her giggle that Sally had been drinking heavily, and Bob seemed unusually loud also. Throughout our conversation Darla and I had been cuddling together and Darla had been slowly stroking my cock. I heard the door to Bob's bedroom close, and I took this interruption as an opportunity to demand Darla's attention to my once again hard and randy male spear. My command was simple and to the point. 

"Mount me!" 

Darla sat up facing the foot of the bed, and swung a long shapely leg across my hips. Reaching back into my crotch with careful fingers, she planted my cock head between her pussy lips, then lowered her slick sex chute over my raging erection. For a long minute she just sat there squeezing me with the walls of her cunt. 

Then began the main event. In a slow, deliberate agonizing cadence, repeated over and over, she would lift herself until only the head of my cock remained connected to her pussy. There she would pause, hanging for long seconds suspended on that bit of blood filled flesh. Suddenly her thighs would give way, and the downward drop of her body would piston my full length into her cunt much as a skilled carpenter drives a nail all the way to the head with a single hammer strike. Each rise along my shaft was an ache, and each drop back into her core a flash of pure ecstasy. My god, but she was delicious!

Riding me this way Darla enjoyed two, perhaps three, orgasms, before I spent my load inside her. She was still on top, my penis still buried to the root inside her vagina, my semen oozing out into my pubic hair, when a knock came at the door. 

I knew that would be Boss Bob. He was about to catch his mistress and his fair-haired senior vice president in the most intimate embrace possible between a man and a woman. I didn't give a damn, but then on my back partially hidden behind Darla, I wasn‘t the one in the line of fire. For poor Darla, however, the situation was more embarrassing. She was facing the door. As her employer and master entered the room she was eye to eye with him. Her cunt, the cunt he owned, was filled with a stranger’s cock and dripping his ejaculation. True it was all no more than Bob had directed. Nevertheless, what could she say? Nothing we can do about it now I thought. Let the son of a bitch do what he will. Darla would just have to deal with him the best she could. 

“Come in,” I called out defiantly.

“Hi, kids,” a naked Boss Bob blurted as he barged through the door dragging an equally naked Sally behind him by her leash. His impressive hard-on was smeared with lipstick. Excuse my pun, but it seemed that since their arrival home Bob already had Sally’s charming mouth HARD at work. 

I could tell that the erotic scene that greeted him stunned him a bit. He paused only for the briefest instant, but the way his jaw dropped gave him away. “Well just look at the two of you!” he blurted in amazement. “When I saw my whip wasn’t where I left it, I thought Sally and I had better drop in and see if dear Darla needed rescuing. From this tender scene, tho, it appears my concern was groundless. Darla my love, you are positively glowing. Have you taken shameless advantage of this impressionable young man?” 

Darla said nothing but I could feel her move a bit uncomfortably on my cock. “Damn,” I thought, biting my lip. “The bastard is always so smug about everything.” 

“No Bob,” I replied with the smoothest smart ass answer I could come up with, “Darla and I have just been enjoying the evening as you suggested we should.” 

I started to ask how his day and evening had gone, but thought better of it. I wanted to keep the chit chat to the minimum, and I could see that Sally was more than just a little pissed about this whole thing with Darla.

“Well, I promised Sally that I wouldn’t whip her this evening,” Bob continued, “but she spent an awful lot of my money on this afternoon’s shopping spree. I thought as we came home if you were finished with Darla, I might take out my frustration at Sally’s extravagance on Darla’s ass. I can see, however, that you have already used her that way, and it seems that you are not quite through with her.”

“No Bob,” I was quick to answer, “I understood that Darla was mine for the night, and I had intended to use her until dawn.”

“I thought as much,” Bob replied, a quick frown crossing his brow. “Of course she is all yours for as long as you want. By the way, neither of you need worry about reporting for work in the morning. I have notified the office that the three of us will be out of town on a project for Mr. Carmine, and we shouldn’t be expected to be back for a while. I will need some time to break Sally in properly, and we all need to become better acquainted. Well kids, we’ll see you in the morning. Sally has some serious attention to give my prick yet this evening. I’ll leave the whip here in case you want to tickle Darla with it again. G’night kids,” and with that he and Sally left.

Darla was a real trooper. Through it all she remained impaled on my penis, a defiance of her master I am sure that was not easy for her. “Boss Bob didn’t much like what he saw on our faces,” she said after he was gone as she swung her legs clear of my hips. 

“No he didn’t,” I replied, “and Sally liked it even less. Fuck ‘em both. I don’t much give a damn what they like and don’t like.” Then a more pleasant thought struck me. “I wouldn’t want to have lied to the big Boss tho. Get on your knees woman, and suck me hard. I want some more of your sweet pussy.”

Darla did exactly as she was ordered, and when we had finished taking our pleasure, we dropped off to sleep cradled together, her breasts against my back.