18 comments/ 125618 views/ 89 favorites Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 01 By: NatalieH I was in a vanilla marriage. I know that now although looking back on it, at the time I never even knew what that term meant. I do now but luckily, things have changed so much in that respect over the 12 months since. The following series of stories is my recollection of how I have been transformed in to a typically tame of often dull suburban wife, into a whore and a slut for my husband (and anyone else as he sees fit!) My name is Natalie. I am 35, I have long straight, jet black hair, 5' 7, slim figure and full 36C breasts. Men usually find me highly attractive and I've certainly never had problems catching their attention. Men compliment me on my looks, my pale blue eyes and my strikingly clear complexion. I hold a senior managerial job at my work and I dress accordingly, skirt suits, high heels, fairly straight laced but feminine, professional and well presented. When not in work I am what you would call a girly girl, I wear feminine clothes and try my best to be elegant and neat at all times. My husband regarded me I think, as something of a catch when we met at a house party all those years ago and we 'enjoyed' a typically suburban lifestyle of too much work and too little time for any meaningful relationship. We were both career minded, worked long hours and would get in of an evening barely having the energy to talk to each other over our TV dinners. My husband's name is Paul. He's 36, slightly greying, short black hair. He has a very pale complexion, but a warm and friendly face, pale blue eyes just like mine. He is quite well built although with the onset of the coming middle age, had lost a little of his rugged manliness that so attracted me to him all those years ago. He works for a construction company, having worked through the ranks over the 10 years he'd been with them, starting out as a qualified builder but now in a more managerial office role and physically suffering from being chained to a desk when his body was more used to manual work and rugged labour. Marriage wise, as I said, we were truly vanilla back then. We'd met 10 years ago, still in the flush of youth. We'd never been a mad, adventurous couple but we started out enthusiastically and happily. Sex wise, like most other couples, we'd had plenty of it in during our engagement and then marriage but as in most cases, the spark fades somewhat as you settle into a routine. Whereas in the first two or three years it would not be uncommon for us to have spontaneous sex, or for me to blow him in the kitchen just because I felt like it, now, over time, it ended up routine and regimented and barely non-existent for us to enjoy any genuine intimacy together. I will describe our sex life as it had become by this point in one single paragraph, via a typical sexual encounter of ours. I would be reading in bed, he would, usually on a Friday, slide his hand up my nightie. I would let him some of the times as I knew this was our code for 'let's have sex'. He would give me a quick five minutes or so sliding his finger in my pussy, whilst kissing me. He would undress, I would briefly grab his cock and hold it, until he would get on top of me and slide inside me. He would give me about three or four minutes of slow fucking until he was ready to come. He deposited his come inside me, I would get up, get cleaned up and get back into bed. Occasionally, very occasionally, I could come from the fingering or I would continue to play with my clit while he was inside me. Mainly though, I would pretend, or barely bother to come but rationalising that it was keeping him happy and it wasn't un-pleasurable, just not amazing! I don't want to get too depressing here, I don't mean to say that there wasn't any warmth between us anymore, there kind of was, but we had very much forgotten how to be passionate. In fact, passion in front of each other would seem kind of embarrassing and out of place, it was no longer what we did together. I had always loved Paul and he me, we had just forgotten how to be sexy with each other I think. Little did I know that just over a year gone, my forthcoming works Christmas party would leave to a chain of events that would see this vanilla life being smashed to pieces, thank God! I remember the night in question like it was yesterday. Both Paul and I were on separate Christmas works parties. His was a few miles out of town and he and a few of his friends were going to stay overnight in the hotel that was part of the complex where the do was happening. It was one of those conference centre things were lots of different companies go to, a full bar, casino, games and entertainment. Paul had asked me if I wanted to go but by coincidence, my own do was on the same night. A more modest affair, we were going to town for a meal and a few drinks and maybe a club if we could last the pace! Anyway, I'm not going to dwell on how or why it happened as that's not why I'm sharing this but after far too many drinks, I made a mistake of sharing a taxi with one of the guys from the office, Grant. He was a well-known Jack the lad and had made it known to all of us girls in the office that he was always up for a shag with anyone. A male slapper really and the office was always full of talk of his latest (usually failed) attempts at pulling one of us girls or chatting us up. Thinking about him now, I did certainly find him attractive. He was well built and definitely loved himself. Deep brown eyes, thick set masculine complexion and a cheeky grin, always ready to flirt and 'look for skirt' and he had some of the characteristics in men I quite like, cocky, confident and brash. He wasn't however someone I'd ever looked at as anything other than a 'Jack the lad' and there were plenty of those around. I wasn't thinking about any of this as I was speculating as to how to get home after the party. I was simply thinking that he could save me half of an expensive taxi fare home. He only lived about three streets from me and his offer of sharing a cab back didn't seem unreasonable and was in fact, convenient for me so I accepted routinely. He may have been less drunk than me, or at least more aware of the potential of what could happen but to this day, I can't quite remember how he managed to end up sitting on my couch chatting to me, enjoying a glass of whisky. I must have succumbed temporarily to his 'gift of the gab' and considered that a little drink couldn't do any harm and that perhaps, I wanted a few more minutes of company before calling it a night and it was just a little Christmas drink. I'm not going to go into detail about what happened with Grant, mainly because I can't actually remember in much detail but needless to say, he quickly had his hand up my skirt and reaching for my knickers. A little voice in my head told me to stop this but thus far in life, I hadn't done anything 'dangerous' like this before. In what mental faculties I had remaining I rationalised it, just the once, he'll never find out, it won't do any harm, sex has been so dull recently, it's nearly Christmas, it might be amazing, how long is it since I had amazing sex....!? Grant was a fast worker. As these thoughts swirled around my head, I collected my senses to reveal he had already pulled my skirt over my hips and my knickers were quickly being pulled down my legs. Any doubt I had was swept away by his urgency and speed. He hardly paused, he pushed my legs wide apart and his fingers were already sliding inside my slit, quickly followed by his tongue as he buried his head between my legs. I lay back and let it happen, I grabbed his head between my fingers as he lapped at my pussy with his tongue. I was starting to really enjoy it and getting lost in the moment but he seemed to lose interest in my pleasure as he just wanted his own. He stood up between my legs, looking down at me with a lewd grin on his face, as if to say, "this was easy", while he rapidly dropped his pants to the floor. I broke eye contact with him as I wanted to look at his dick before I would feel it penetrating me. It was nice and thick, not especially long but bent and curled upwards erotically. He was hard already and raring to go. I saw him grab his cock, give himself a couple of preparatory strokes with his hand before kneeling between my legs and guiding it inside me. The sex wasn't great, far from it. He had a basic technique of sliding it deep inside me and then sliding almost all of the way out. A minute or so in, I'd almost lost interest and just wanted him to finish. I avoided kissing him as I started to be more aware of the fact that I was already feeling guilty about my infidelity. Sadly, I thought that sex with this guy, whilst feeling a little daring at first, had quickly descended into being no less routine and dull than the formulaic sex that I have with Paul every once in a while, maybe every guy was like this I thought as I lay back and felt him fucking me almost disinterestedly. Luckily, his lack of technique was matched equally by his lack of stamina. On his latest thrust into my pussy, he let out a low groan and I vaguely felt his cock twitch inside him as he groaned and held his cock inside me. The only thing I could think of was that I'm glad I'm on the pill and hopefully he's clean as the reality of what had just happened had dawned on me; cheating on my husband just for more unsatisfactory and unfulfilling sex. I almost felt cheated myself, if I'm going to risk my marriage, I'd at least expect a quick trip to heaven and back – it would have been nice I reasoned! I considered that the scenario couldn't get much worse but it really did, considerably so. As Grant stood up with a satisfied smile on his face and his cock glistening from both our juices, savouring his all too easy conquest of my pussy, he wasted no time in starting to get his clothes back on. As he was just about to pull his boxers back on to my horror, the door opened and Paul strode in! I froze in shock, my head in a whirl, there was no way whatsoever to even pretend anything other than sex had just happened. I was still sitting on the sofa, legs apart with my dress bunched around my waist, already starting to feel Grant's come leaking out of me and down my legs. He was in the process of getting dressed but his stiff prick was still on full display. My thoughts whirled, mainly to why the hell Paul was here, and to how he was going to react to catching his wife red handed just having been fucked by another man. I had no idea what Paul would do. He surprised me. The only thing he said was, "What the fuck....?" as he quickly came to terms with the scene in front of him. He lurched at Grant but not to hit him as I thought he would, he simply grabbed his arm forcibly and pulled him out of the room, frog-marching him out of the house, Grant quickly trying to grab his clothes on his rapid way out but as far as I recollect, still having a smug grin on his face. He'd gotten what he wanted courtesy of my open legs and now he was leaving me to face the music while he had lots of bragging material to discuss with his mates, not to mention work colleagues, OUR work colleagues! I heard the door slam behind him, the locks jangling with the force of the slam and I heard Paul angrily lock and bolt it before returning to me. I wanted to cry and sob at that point, but I couldn't because I was too afraid of Paul's reaction. Was he about to throw me out into the street and start divorce proceedings, was our marriage over? I couldn't even really begin to process what had just happened to be honest but the night still had some even more amazing shocks in store. Paul strode over to me defiantly and angrily. I had at least managed to pull the hem of my dress over my legs and adjusted my top so I was sort of decent before him. He stood in front of me imposingly and looked sternly into my eyes: "Drunken Christmas fling?" he enquired sharply and loudly. "Yes....I mean.....sorry...I don't know how....." my head was spinning, I didn't know what I was saying, or what to say, I didn't even know if he was asking me a question or just stating a fact. I spoke with my eyes to the floor, too ashamed to look at him. He was behaving strangely, looking into my eyes once I had looked up, as if searching for something. He stood between my legs and lifted my dress up before I could even finish what I was saying. A strange act that shut me up instantly in puzzlement. He wasn't listening to what I had to say. I made no attempt to stop him as he seemed to survey my exposed pussy in detail. I had no idea what he was looking for and I didn't know what was happening at all, everything had already gotten so out of hand and weird. Suddenly he stood rigidly in front of me and started to undress, looking into my eyes the whole time as he practically ripped some of his clothes off. I watched him in disbelief for a few seconds as he pulled his shirt off, kicked his shoes off, his whole body rigid with tension, or something. Before going any further I shouted out: "What are you doing? What's going on...?" Paul looked at me but didn't say a word. I sat there and watched as he completed his urgent strip, quickly pulling his pants down so he was down to his boxers. I noticed immediately how aroused he was, the boxers were tented almost comically, straining to keep his hard-on in. They didn't strain for very long, he pulled them off and kicked them dismissively across the floor. I was breathless at the sight now before me; my husband of many years, who hadn't shown all that much interest in sex of late, was naked and standing in front of me, his wife, grabbing his engorged cock and stroking it even as I could still feel the sperm of another man seeping out of my pussy. I felt like prey in the hunter's sight as he stroked his cock, looked me in the eye and moved in. My head was in a total mess but I can't deny how completely aroused I was. Paul seemed so much more masculine and strong than I'd seen him recently, or at least, had thought about him. In addition, his cock – my God, his cock just looked so much thicker, bigger and angrier than I'd ever seen it before. Even from a few inches away, I could see the thick veins wrapped around the shaft of his cock pulsating in his hand as he looked at me, still on the sofa, his recently fucked-by-a-strange-guy-wife. I had never seen him so turned on, so hard and so erotic. As daft as it sounds (as I know you know what's about to happen!) it still hadn't occurred to me at that point that Paul was going to have sex with me. As he stroked his cock, I thought (for some reason) he was just tossing himself off or that he'd gone a bit mental at having had to endure the sight of another man putting his cock back in his pants covered in my pussy juice but I was shocked even further by what he did next. He said: "I never knew you were such a cheap whore letting some guy from work fuck you. This changes a lot, starting with now, I'm going to give you what every slut deserves." I'd never heard Paul say things like that to me ever before and in anything approaching a normal scenario, I would have taken great offence. Now though, his talk, his demeanour and his taking charge of the situation made me lost and dizzy with total lust. I realised then for the first time that he was going to fuck me. I didn't understand why he would want to, after what he had just seen but as I realised what was about to happen, my pussy stirred and throbbed in lust. I wanted him to take me hard. In fact, I wanted him to fuck me angrily. I was a slut wasn't it? Of course I was, Grant's come was dripping down my leg as I thought about it – I was a slut. Shit, Paul....fuck me...like a slut...I want you to.....punish me by fucking me hard and taking what you want from me.... My mental urgings to him were wholly unnecessary as his mind was already set on fucking me. He didn't see the need seemingly to gain my approval. He knelt down between my legs and in the briefest of seconds and without any form of subtlety or care, he slammed me full of cock immediately. As he sank his thick pole all the way inside me, I arched my back sharply and screamed out! I'd never screamed out before like that, but this time I screamed almost animalistically in lust as I felt my pussy throb around his pulsing shaft as I was suddenly and totally taken. He was surprisingly silent but determined. He ground his crotch into me forcefully as every square centimetre of his shaft was buried deep inside me, I could feel his ball sack press against the outside of my pussy and he gripped my hips with his hands firmly, pulling my whole body down onto his cock as if determined to get as much dick inside me as humanely possible. I heard the erotic 'squelch' as his cock slid in and out of my already used hole. "Ah yes, you dirty slut, take my cock, take it...." He said as he began to thrust sharply in and out of me. I was lost in the feeling of his cock spearing into me, I lifted my legs across his hips, digging my feet into his bum to try to get him even further inside me. I just wanted fucking, hard, and he was giving it to me, roughly, urgently and completely. Yes, make me a slut, take me hard you fucking stud I thought as I felt my boobs, and every else for that matter, rock sharply back and forth in time with his urgent thrusts. In the last fragments of conscious thought I had, I knew I was so turned on that just a few strokes of my clit would bring me to a shattering orgasm. I'm a girl who always needs at least a little clitoral stimulation to come. I reached between my legs and slammed my fingers between them. On each lusty outward thrust of Paul's cock, I rubbed my clit. My mental fog of excitement had me delirious as I pictured what was going on in my pussy, my fingers rubbing, his thrusting cock pistoning in and out of me, my whole body being forced back onto the couch with the force of his guttural rutting. I was right, it only took a few seconds before I was screaming in ecstasy, my whole body almost shutting down as my head swam in bliss as I was wracked by the most powerful orgasm of my life, so powerful it made me cry tears of pleasure. Paul hadn't finished but he wasn't far behind. He thrust through my orgasm as if not interested. I looked up at him between my legs, he wasn't even looking at me now, he was just concentrating on rutting me. I loved his masculinity and power as I saw his head rise back sharply and I felt his thick pipe spasm between my well-used pussy as he filled me full of his come. His mouth open in his own bliss, he let out only a low moan as he pumped me full of what felt like a gallon of sperm, so much that I'm sure I felt some trickle out immediately and run down into my bum. As I felt he was finishing, I was surprised again as he withdrew his cock and took hold of my hand. At first I thought it was a sign of affection and he wanted a post coital cuddle but I was very much mistaken. He only grabbed my hand to push me onto the floor so I was kneeling in front of him, only inches away from his still throbbing penis. "Now you're going to suck my dick clean since you've shown how much of a slut whore you've been. Suck it clean, seen as there's two loads of cum coating my cock, you dirty tramp!" My breath was almost taken away by this little speech. I couldn't believe how wound-up and aggressive my husband was being. Again, normally I would be disgusted by what he had just said but I barely had time to think. Paul grabbed the back of my head firmly and pushed my face sharply towards his cock. I decided not to think, and not to resist as I knew I wanted to do this. Something that had been dormant inside me for many years was re-awakening. I always knew I was submissive, always knew I loved a masculine man who could dominate me and treat me like a slut. I wanted to be the simpering, weak female who would do the bidding of her man without question and with all those thoughts swirling around my head, I opened my mouth wide and slid my lips lovingly over his glistening dick. Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 01 I looked him deep in the eyes as I slid my mouth all the way down his shaft. Due to our lack of intimacy over the last few years, as embarrassingly comic as it sounds now, I only ever gave Paul a blow job on special occasions, the last time being his birthday, over six months prior. Even then, it was a regulation blow job – almost like I didn't want to do it, and running the loo to spit out the foul contents as soon as he had come. This time it was all so different. From my kneeling position, I grabbed his still thick cock by the root and slid slowly and inexorably down his pole. I felt the head of his cock go deeper and closer to my throat than ever before. My instinct screamed at me to stop and pull back but the rough fucking I'd just taken, and the crazy events just gone before had flicked a switch inside me. I was going to take this cock down my throat and I was going to look him clean in the eyes as I did it. I felt I wanted to gag but I'd read about deep throating somewhere once upon a time. I trusted to fate as I relaxed my throat as best as I could. I still gagged as his cock head nudged and then penetrated my throat but I had managed it. I felt a big lump in my throat as he looked down on me with a look that I interpreted as admired fascination. We had neither of us even begun to process the madness of the last hour and now it seemed like something like an erotic arms race to see who could out do the other. I felt quite proud right at that second as he looked at me, my eyes watering at having my throat opened up by his thick dick, some spittle and god only knows what else leaking down his shaft and out of my mouth, onto the floor. As I looked him in the eyes I locked his gaze on me as I had his cock deep in my mouth. Hundreds of emotions raced across my mind but the gist was that this was how I wanted it to be all of the time! Obviously without it starting by me being inexplicably fucked by some uninteresting guy from work, but this, this sort of dominant/submissive sex was something I realised right there and then, was how I wanted it to be. I kept my hands down by my sides and calmly and deliberately forced my mouth slowly over his shaft, all the way over so his cock slid across my tongue, the back of my mouth, my throat, before I would pull away slowly again. I think I was trying to demonstrate that I was savouring the feel of his dick in my mouth, I wanted to do this, on my knees in front of him. I remembered fantasies that I had long since buried, of me as a weak, submissive woman, being dominated by a powerful, imposing, rough guy. I knew Paul could be that guy, he just had been that guy in fact, and with his cock embedded in my mouth, he was currently being that sort of guy but this was how I wanted to love Paul and this was how I wanted my marriage to be – one of inequality! I wanted him to set the rules, to take me when he wanted, to tell me when to suck his dick and when to make him his tea, I wanted him to come home from work and take me, there and then, on the kitchen table. In my heightened state of arousal and shock at the night's events, I probably went far too far with these fantasies but as the next months and year passed, little did I know I would live them all and that these were actually quite tame compared to what my life with Paul has now become. I would come to see these events as quite 'vanilla' compared to future adventures. Right there and then however, Paul didn't want a full blow job. He was still recovering himself from the most powerful orgasm I'd ever seen him have. He loosened his grip on my head and plopped his cock out of my mouth. It glistened now with my saliva, not with sex juices which were all now coating my inner mouth somewhere. His cock had returned to a familiar look, semi erect and no longer coursing with angry and urgent veins. He looked down at me one more time and picked his boxers up from the floor, put them back and went into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water before taking himself off to bed, all without a single word to me. I wasn't sure what to do so I got cleaned up, got myself a glass of water and waited half an hour in silence in the living room. My mind was a mess and I couldn't process where Paul and I 'were'. Our marriage could either be over or just about to enter a whole new exciting phase, or it could of course, all be conveniently forgotten as if it had never happened to allow us to go back to dull suburbia life that we had enjoyed, or perhaps endured, for the last few years. I tentatively crept into the bedroom. I was relieved to hear Paul's familiar gentle snoring and I could see his heavy breathing against the dim light of a street lamp shining in from outside. I slid quietly into bed and tried to sleep, awaiting what tomorrow would bring. I had a fitful sleep. I was actually a little angry with Paul for even being able to sleep after what had happened – I'd fucked another guy for fuck's sake! His response was not to storm out or throw me out, it was to fuck me, hard, like I'd never been fucked before! How could he sleep, why didn't he want to talk? I mean, what happened last night exactly!? About 7am in the morning, I woke from a little light sleep I'd just managed to have. As my vision cleared from my sleepy fog, I noticed Paul was sitting up in bed next to me, looking at me. I bolted upright straight away, still not sure of his feelings, not sure if our marriage was over. "Paul, about last night, I'm sorry....I don't know how or why...." I started to say. I was stopped quickly, he raised his hands up in the air to indicate he didn't want to hear it. "Spare me the details. I'm not sure we can move on from this. I was thinking of moving out, staying with a mate for a while," he said, looking crestfallen and staring low into the mattress as he said it. "..But do you have to? I love you. It was a stupid drunken mistake...." I was interrupted again by him shaking his head resignedly and rolling his eyes. He really didn't want to hear the excuses, I didn't really have any. I thought he was going to get up off the bed there and then and walk out but he stood up and seemed to have second thoughts, or at least, wanted to hear something from me: "Just tell me why," he said pointedly. "Why what?" I said, confused. "Why did you feel the need to fuck some guy? Am I not enough for you if you still love me as you say you do?" "I don't know why!" I said exasperatedly. This was the one thing I wish I knew myself! The answer got his back up, he let out a frustrated groan and motioned to leave, brushing his hand to seemingly indicate he had had enough. I panicked as I didn't want him to leave: "I did it because we are boring!" I shouted. This stopped him in his tracks and he turned around and walked back towards me. "Boring how?" he said, his face full of a deep set frown and puzzlement. "I mean...our lives, sex! We've become dull, repetitive. We have sex once a fortnight, we almost do it via appointment! I want more, I know you want more!" "Oh, so it's my fault!?" he said, throwing his head back in indignation. "No. That's not what I'm saying at all. We're both at fault. I love you, I want to be with you, I want sex with you but...." My voice trailed off, I could feel myself getting into dangerous territory. Paul shrugged, confused, "But what.....?" I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I felt uncomfortable going further but my marriage was on the line: "I want sex with you but not.....not how we've been having it. I want it like it was....last night..." I said, my face reddening a little by my admission. I could see his face cloud over a little as he thought about what I had said: "Like last night? I was angry and I had just come in after seeing you shag some tosser of a bloke! I was drunk, Christ, I feel guilty about what I did to you. I shouldn't have done that..." he said, his face now reflecting confusion. "No. I didn't mind what you did. In fact, it was the best sex I've ever had. It was the best sex you've ever had to, you know it was!?" I could tell by his expression that he agreed with this. For whatever reason, his anger and his forcefulness had led us to both experience something amazing. I decided for once in my life, at this point, to be completely honest and seize the initiative... "Paul, last night was amazing because that's how I've always wanted it. I don't know how to explain it really, other than to say I'm a woman and you're a man. I want you to be a man, a strong man who will take me, strongly and decisively. I want....I want you to fuck me hard like that all the time!" I blushed again at that last statement, I didn't usually talk like this but I wanted to emphasise how I wanted things to change. Paul raised an eyebrow at this, his face full of puzzled thoughts. He shook his head in confusion, "I called you a slut and a whore and god knows what else, and treated you like one. That's how you want to be treated?" he said, still trying to come to terms with my admission. In truth, this was just the tip of the iceberg of my fantasies, but I didn't want to go too extreme and put him off. "Yes, I have to admit it, I loved it. I want....I want to be your slut!" I said this in a rush, my eyes wide eyed looking up at him trying to work out how he would react to that. It was a shocking admission to make, for a woman who had always prided herself on sexual equality and equal rights. I wasn't against any of that all of a sudden, but in the bedroom and sex wise, I couldn't deny the truth any longer, I wanted to be submissive at all times to Paul. Last night had made me realise something that really I'd always known but had been too afraid to discuss. Perhaps not afraid, but just unwilling to face it as I was a proud business woman used to holding her own in a male world, very far from wanting to be submissive to a man. "You want to be my slut?" Paul said, now incredulous, "So, what does that mean, a slut as far as I know the term, will do whatever she is told all the time. Is that what you want to be? Someone I can fuck whenever I want? Someone who will suck me off whenever I want? Someone who will do whatever I tell her, whenever I tell her to?" He said this, I thought, with a growing sense of interest. I realised then that not all of this would be such a surprise to him. He had of course been present last night when he took me hard and then had his cock down my throat. He had looked into my eyes and seen it there probably, my desire to be his slut, his possession. I thought about what he said and mentally checked myself. Was this what I wanted? Am I really sure what I am getting into here? I don't think I was sure at all at that point but just his questions alone had my heart racing and my forehead sweating in excitement. "Yes, it's what I want. Please." I said, giving him the green light to make me his slut, without either of us yet knowing exactly what that meant. "Well I'm not sure....perhaps I need a demonstration?" he said, his face now more focussed. He had seemingly decided to accept my offer and was now curious as to where we were going with this. "A demonstration.....of what?" I said, intrigued myself. "Of your obedience as a slut," he said decisively, "I'll give you a trial run and then decide if I like it or not." "Err, OK. What do you want me to do?" I said tentatively, intrigued and immediately excited by where the conversation had gone. The answer he gave shocked me with its boldness and its detail: "I'm going to go into the kitchen to make myself some tea and toast. While I'm gone, I want you to dress in just a pair of black seamed stockings and black heels, nothing else. You will not speak when I return to the room, but you will kneel on the floor just there (he pointed at the floor, just by the door) and wait for me to stick my dick in your mouth. Is that clear, SLUT?" I didn't answer straight away. I just stared at him, open-mouthed (as he wanted me later!) because I didn't know how to react. I was shocked, but in a good way, erotically shocked and dizzy with lust. It was very clear and I would do just exactly what I was told, I couldn't wait to dress up for him and for him to stuff my slut mouth full of cock. "Yes...yes, that's fine," I answered weakly and nervously. "Speak to me like a slut should!" He said. "Yes...Sir..." I said, hoping this was what he wanted. It clearly was, as he smiled, turned and walked out of the room. He was still dressed in boxers and as he walked, I saw that lovely tent in his pants again, I would be getting a much closer look in a few minutes. I scrambled off the bed and jumped over to my bedside cabinet. I tore my night dress off and pulled my knickers down all in one movement. I didn't even know if I had any black seamed stockings to wear. I wore stockings only occasionally and, due to our dull sex life, had gotten out of the habit of buying any. To my delight, I had some stuffed in my bottom drawer. I pulled them out and slipped them over my legs in front of the mirror, sliding them over my calves and knees, ensuring the seam at the back was straight and pinching them a little to adjust them. I got distracted looking at my legs in the mirror, my pussy throbbing a little between my legs as I was already turned on by my ready compliance with my husband's orders and already looking like a good slut wife. I almost forgot the heels! They were only under the chair so I slipped my feet inside them, quickly fastened them and walked over to my required position. How quickly my husband had conquered me I thought, as I knelt on the floor in silence, wearing only stockings and heels, already having been informed that I will be required to suck his dick when he returns. I found myself licking my lips in anticipation of his taste, my pussy throbbing, my nipples stiff exposed as they were to the air. I didn't have long to wait. He came back in whistling nonchalantly and finishing off a slice of toast. He teased me by walking right past me and over to the bedside cabinet where he pulled his boxers off and I inhaled deeply as I saw his rigid cock bounce out. He strode towards me and I felt hypnotised by the sway of his cock and the bounce of his balls as he walked the few paces towards me. The cheeky sod teased me further. Just as I'd readied myself to suck, he just walked right past me and out of the room again, returning a few seconds later with a mug of tea in his hand. This time, he wanted serving and I was ready to do just that. He stood directly in front of me so his cock was almost poking me in my eye. I motioned to move my right hand towards the shaft to hold it and then suck it but with a sound of "Ah ah," he stopped me from doing so. He slid the shaft of his cock over my cheeks and my closed lips. I breathed deeply in lust as I felt the warmth of his dick throbbing against my skin. He lunged over to the bedroom table and tossed something to me. It was a hair band. "Put your hair up, " was the simple command. As I did so, another command, "Keep your hands were they are now and open your mouth." My hands were behind my head, having just tied my hair up. I opened my mouth wide and watched in erotic fascination as he gripped his thick shaft and aimed it into my willing mouth. Just like last night, he filled my mouth fully with his cock quickly and without any fuss. He pressed his cock into me slowly, allowing my throat to adjust as I began to feel his cock nudging against the head of my throat. There was no pause as continued his descent into my throat. I gagged slightly but did my best to take his full length. He withdrew slightly and didn't go that deep again, he just starting to slowly and rhythmically fill my mouth as he slid his cock shaft in and out of my lips. As I was just beginning to get used to this rhythm, he surprised me again by grabbing my wrist and pulling me up onto my feet. Looking deeply into my eyes, I felt his hand move between my legs and I gasped as I felt one of his fingers slide inside me. I was a little embarrassed by just how wet I was, I was such a mess down there and already so turned on. He moved in closer and kissed me deeply on the lips, my mouth opening quickly to allow his tongue to dart urgently all over the inside of my mouth. I groaned into his mouth as two, then three fingers slid inside me. My legs were almost clean off the ground as he finger fucked me urgently. My arms were draped around his neck and I was gone, my legs turned to jelly and mulch as I clung on to him. The whole room seemed to rotate and swirl around me as I let out another of my guttural moans as an intense orgasm ripped across me. It was the first time I could ever remember coming before he did and was a reflection of just how turned on I was by all of this. He allowed me a few seconds to return back down to somewhere approaching calm before pulling his fingers out. He moved them up to my lips and I opened my mouth quickly and sucked each one clean, tasting the intoxicating taste and scent of my exploded pussy on him, maintaining my eye contact with him throughout, mentally telling him I was desperate to suck his dick again and he could have me whenever he wanted. "Rught, I'm going to get onto the bed and watch some TV and you're going to suck my dick until I fill your mouth with come. I want you to swallow what I give you and keep sucking until I'm clean. After you've done that, you can then go and freshen up until I decide what else to do with you today. Is that clear?" he said, a satisfied smirk on his face. He'd taken to this dom/sub thing very quickly I thought as I readied myself for more cock sucking. Another little voice replied to that thought by remarking that I too had taken to this very quickly as I readied myself to choke on some more dick. "Yes Sir!" I shouted, a mock smile on my face as I shouted the 'Sir' out like a soldier responding to an order. True to his word, Paul lay flat on the bed, puffing up the pillows on the headboard, remote control in his hand as he flicked on the bedroom TV above us. Whether he genuinely wanted to watch TV or not I didn't know, I just wanted his cock in my mouth and fast. As soon as he seemed settled and he had his mug of tea in his hand, I lay on his left hand side, my head initially flat on his stomach. I wanted to savour this. I stroked my hand slowly all over his cock and his balls, feeling his shaft respond by twitching and lurching in pleasure to my touch. I slid down to get in a better position to perform my duties and had a dirty idea. I slid right down between his legs and opened his arse cheeks, sliding my tongue across his bum hole before he knew what was happening. It was something I had never done before. This was to be a day for breaking taboos! I smiled in pride as I heard him groan a little and say out loud, "Oh fuckin hell, you filthy little tramp!" I lapped my tongue all around his arse for a while and then traced It all along his ball sack. I popped each of his nuts in my mouth in turn, sucking gently on them before continuing my mission upwards. I reached the root of his cock, swirling my lips and tongue right up his heavy shaft until I reached the top. I didn't pause at all, I just opened my mouth wide and slid my lips down his pole, taking him greedily in. I could feel his enjoyment of this as he lifted his bum off the bed slightly to try and drive his cock in my mouth a little further but I was happy to help out in that regard. I stepped up the pace, I felt an overwhelming urge to pleasure him by giving him the best blow job I could manage. I wanted to reward him for using me like a slut, for fulfilling me like never before. If you like, for putting me in the position of subservience that I had always wanted and was no so ready to explore. Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 01 I bobbed heavily up and down his shaft with my mouth. He had stretched his hand down to my head and had gotten hold of my pony tail and was actually using it to pull my head up and down over his dick. I loved it as I felt he was really using me to get off. His thrusts into my mouth were becoming quick and urgent and frenzied, his moans and groans short and ragged. He sank back onto the bed and let go of me. That was my cue to finish him off and taste my reward. I gripped his cock with my hand and tossed him off with my mouth just over the head of his cock. I'm not usually vocal during sex but, freeing my mouth for a quick second from his cock, I blurted out, "Oh God yes, fill my slutty fuckin' mouth with your spunk. I want to swallow it all for you like a good slut." That little speech was enough to send him right over the edge. I had barely had a chance to get my mouth back over the head of his cock before the first strong jet of jizz rocketed into my mouth. I lowered my mouth over his spewing cock head and felt him groan out several loads of come into my mouth. Previously I would have held all of this with some distate in my mouth, holding my breath so I didn't have to taste or smell it. This time I was a slut, I took it all, I swallowed it all, and what's more, kept his cock in my mouth until my lips and tongue had done there required job and cleaned him up like a good slut should. I slid my tongue up and down the shaft of his cock, licked the entire surface of his now spent balls and sucked gently on them before basking in a slut job well done. Fully satisfied from our first deliberate slut wife experience, I rested my head on his stomach and we both dozed off. I knew already that my life was about to get so much more interesting, I just didn't quite appreciate HOW interesting. We still had so much to work out and at that point and I still wasn't sure whether our marriage was OK. We hadn't properly discussed my infidelity or the whole slut thing and as I alluded to before, I hadn't told him even half of my slut fantasy. Perhaps he will be shocked when he knows how far I would like it to go and how extreme some of my fantasies are. I'll tell you all about it soon.... Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 02 Prologue This is part 2 of a series. Like the first part, I have put this in Loving Wives as this seems most appropriate. If the story pans out as I expect it too, the remaining sections will go into my usual BDSM category as my husband begins to exert more and more control of our lives. For now, it's a Loving Wives story....... ====== After the initial dramatic night of my Christmas party when I'd cheated on Paul and then been dominated by him the very same night and the day after, I'd like to say that a valve in our relationship had been released and we immediately enjoyed a new and wonderfully fulfilling relationship. Things weren't quite as straightforward as that however. After those two days, we both returned to work on the Monday and the routine of the past few years just seemed to solidify back around us again as we went back to our familiar routine. In our typical fashion, we had ignored the many strange events of those two days as if they'd never happened. I wasn't sure if our marriage was OK, back to normal, or whether it was ruined and we were just delaying the inevitable divorce. What had happened was that Paul had seen some of my secret desires literally laid bare and as I went to bed with him each night I was hoping to re-enact them in some way. As I lay in bed reading my book, I hoped each time for him to tear it out of my hand and reach out for the inner slut that I'd shown him I could be. I wanted to see my husband take me, powerfully and masterfully, dominating me sexually as he wished. The next few nights however, normal service of the last few years was resumed, we barely said a word before the night light went out and we drifted off to our separate sleeps, resting ahead of another day of predictable executive stress. The Friday before Christmas, I decided that I had to do something to change this. Paul was being distant and I wasn't sure whether this was because he was still deciding about our marriage and forming his opinions on my infidelity, or it was just business as usual and we had just slipped back into suburban monotony. I had decided to take the day off work, cook a nice meal, dress up nice and we could hopefully spend the evening chatting over some wine and then who knows..... I had the meal cooked and I soaked in the bath for a good hour, I wanted to be relaxed and at my social best. I somehow felt that tonight I needed to remind Paul of the woman he fell in love with years ago, but also one who wanted to spice her marriage up and who wanted more of what she had got last week! As I replayed the events of last weekend, as I soaked in the bath, I soon found my hands wandering over my body. My nipples were moist and hard as I grazed them with my fingers in the warm, soapy water. I recollected the stunning sight of Paul stripping urgently and his cock bouncing out of his pants in the desperate rush to get it inside me. My fingers slid between my legs and I arched my back in tingling pleasure as I rubbed my clit remembering the feeling of Paul's hard cock sliding between my lips as he relaxed on the bed having taken control of me. I started fantasising about what could happen tonight if I was able to seduce Paul into it again. With that thought however, I snapped myself out of my erotic thoughts and gathered myself. I wouldn't masturbate, I wanted myself to be on a sexual edge, I wanted to show Paul that I needed him and wanted him, desperately. With that, I slipped out of the bath, got myself dry and began a lengthy beauty routine. I took time and care with everything, legs waxed, 'pits and bits' shaved (landing strip sorted!), nails painted, alluring make up, whore-red lippy and I put my hair up just as Paul liked it, a dab of expensive perfume each side of my neck. Thinking of what Paul had asked of me last week, I had bought some new stockings for him. I chose some lacy black knickers and a matching black bra which was all for show, my nipples clearly visible through the dainty fabric. I looked at myself in the mirror as I pulled the stockings slowly over my legs as I propped each foot in turn onto the bed. The stockings were an expensive pair; soft, silky material and just the feeling of putting them on, feeling them glide over my flesh and adjusting the seam at the back to straighten them, gave me a rush of excitement. I knew Paul would love seeing me in them. The final touch was a little black dress that I'd specially selected for the occasion. Nothing too elaborate just a classy look that I knew Paul liked, the dress was just above the knee length, only a little revealing in the cleavage department and quite demure and elegant, I wanted him to see me and somehow think 'classy lady and my slut' all in one look! I certainly felt the part, feminine and as elegant as I could be, determined to snare my man! As my personal preparation was complete, I looked at myself in the full length mirror in the hall again and smiled; he's not going to be able to resist you girl, I thought. I wasn't finished yet though. For the evening to go how I wanted, I needed Paul to be relaxed, chilled and amenable. I ran him a bath and got his change of clothes ready. The plan was get him home, let him chill in the bath, have dinner ready as soon as he was done and then move onto wine and seduction. The plan worked and then some.... Paul got home about 5.30. As I heard the key in the door, I jumped up to greet him in the hall. I just had time to notice the familiar look of tired, world-weariness that we both usually wore after a long day at work but this look disappeared off his face as soon as he clapped his eyes on his now glamorous wife waiting to greet him. His wide-eyed expression seemed to say, "Wow!" and I knew my efforts had already achieved the desired effect. "I didn't know you were going out?" Paul said eyeing me up slowly, puzzled. I smiled as I saw his eyes lingering on my boobs and legs. So far,so good I thought. "I'm not going out. We're going to have a nice evening in! I've run you a bath and dinner will be ready in 45 minutes!" I said, taking his work bag and coat and ushering him in, kissing him lightly but a little lingeringly on the lips. He seemed only too happy to go along with this and for the next half hour or so I heard the sounds of him bathe and change upstairs as I prepared dinner feeling every inch the domestic Goddess! The meal went very well, I had gone to a lot of trouble. A three course meal with some expensive wine but I'll spare you the details, it's not what you're reading this for I suspect! "I forget sometimes how fit a bird you are!" Paul said after the meal, with us siting opposite each other in the lounge. He had a smirk on his face as he sipped his wine keenly. He looked very relaxed and chilled just as I had wanted him. "Gee thanks, I forget sometimes that your such a charmer!" I quipped, rolling my eyes in mock indignation. "I feel as though I'm being seduced...' He said, looking at me pointedly. "That's because you are" I retorted quickly and confidently, "I'm doing my level best to get in your pants!" I said, trying my best 'come to bed eyes' and seductive pout to which he smiled back softly at me. "Are they stockings your wearing," he said, his gaze lowering onto my legs as I had them crossed underneath me. I looked down slowly to my legs. As my dress was short, he could almost see the black top of my stockings from his vantage point. Instead of answering verbally I decided this was the moment to attack. I smiled at him in what I hoped was a seductive grin and slowly but deliberately pulled the hem of my dress over my legs and towards my hips, keeping my eyes on his to judge his reactions as I did my reveal. "They're hold-ups, they're new, do you like them?" I said. I already knew the answer, I saw him take a deep intake of breath and his eyes widen in lust and arousal. I opened my legs further to allow him a view of my lace knickers between my legs, all the time trying to retain eye contact with him to indicate what I wanted. I think he now knew exactly what I wanted and we both knew already by then, I was going to get it. I gave him a good show as I lifted each leg up in turn and stroked each one with my hand, my hands slowly stroking down my knee and around to my calves and the black seam of the stockings. His eyes were greedily taking in the erotic show I was giving him as I felt like some sort of soft porn model, on display for him. "So, do you like?" I said, smiling and delighting in Paul's obvious interest and arousal and basking in the erotically charged atmosphere I had seemingly created. He sat cross legged staring intently at me, a glass of wine in his right hand, his left hand stroking his chin absent-mindedly. "I do like but..." he said hesitantly. "But what..." I said, unsure what the problem was, hoping I hadn't misread the signals and he wasn't about to spurn my advances, worried that he was about to say our marriage was over or bring up my indiscretion of last week. "But you should take the dress and those knickers off immediately," he said, "Sluts don't wear knickers in my presence, I thought we established that last week," he said, looking expectantly and perhaps a little smugly at me. My heart leapt and my pulse raced. My hope for the evening, and perhaps our marriage had seemingly come to pass. Not only that, this was the first acknowledgment from him since last week as to what had happened and he clearly thought that last week had shown us both the way forward for our sex life. The way he had brashly called me a slut was probably a slight gamble on his part but he could see I was up for it and I was very interested in exploring where this could go. At the very least, he was clearly happy with me and didn't see what I did last week as the beginning of the end for us. "Really?" I said nervously and somewhat expectantly. I didn't quite know why I said that, I think I wanted confirmation that we really were going to do the Dom/slut thing all over again. I said it in a hopeful way as if to say I really want to but was he sure it's what he wanted too? The answer he gave left me in no doubt, and started the best and happiest period of our marriage which we still enjoy to this day. Still sitting in his chair but already seeming more in control of his world, he said, "Yes I'm sure and you call me Sir when you address me. Now take that dress off, take your bra and knickers off and come sit next to me. I want to inspect this body that I'm going to be using from this point on!" He sat back as he said this and glared at me to study my reaction. It was probably completely out of place, but I turned to him, beamed a broad smile at him and with a mock soldier-style salute, said, "Yes, Sir!" I wasted no time and used little finesse. I stood up, unhooked my dress and practically threw it over the chair. Practically while it was still in the air, I repeated the process with my bra, before wiggling my hips and sliding my dainty knickers down my legs and kicking them across the floor. It was amazing how quickly a slut could strip! I walked boldly and confidently towards him and stood there right in front of him, my now throbbing and exposed pussy only inches from his face, my nipples hardening in excitement as I was fully on show for him as he had commanded. Paul did nothing for a minute or two, he just took in the sight before him and sipped his wine as if watching a TV programme. I saw his gaze start at my feet (I still had my black heels on), wander up my stocking-clad legs and hover over my pussy before he moved his gaze up to my full 36c breasts and occasionally to my face and my eyes, where he locked his gaze onto mine, seeming to enjoy the fact that I was naked solely because he had requested I be so and that I was so obviously keen to be totally obedient and compliant. Just this act was so thrilling to me. Women often read more into these things than men but his lingering inspection of my body seemed to confirm his calm ownership of it to me. Almost like he was inspecting his latest toy, knowing he could play with it whenever he wanted. I was rapidly becoming impatient for an order; make me suck your cock I thought, I want it in my mouth, this minute, please! Paul however, had much more patience than I. He looked at me again, and said: "More wine slut, get me more wine. When you've done that, sit there (indicating the seat just opposite him) and spread your legs wide for me. Do not speak." I looked at him wide-eyed and amazed, he was speaking with calm authority as if understanding completely my desire. Although I practically snatched the glass from his hand as I turned towards the kitchen, I wasn't sure if my legs, now turned to jelly, and my head, now turned to mulch, would allow me to complete the task satisfactorily. I did manage to walk to the kitchen and retrieved the wine from the fridge. I had sat Paul's glass down on the work top and pulled another glass from the cupboard for me. I poured Paul's and was about to pour my own but I stopped....HE DIDN'T SAY YOU COULD HAVE ONE...I thought to myself. I sniggered at myself for this thought; he's your husband, this is a game, a very sexy one yes but a game nonetheless, of course he won't mind if you help yourself to your own wine! I continued this internal debate but almost to my own surprise, eventually decided that no, Paul has not indicated that I can have wine, so I won't. The thought of my servile obedience made my head swim in lust even more as I returned to the lounge to continue my submission, struggling to walk as my pussy throbbed between the swish of my stocking clad legs as I became accustomed to the new rules of our marriage that seemed to be forming there and then. I also remembered the silence instruction, and handed Paul his wine without a sound before sitting on the armchair in front of him. Looking him square in the eyes, I parted my legs immediately, watching his eyes intently as he lowered his gaze to take a full view of the hotness between my legs. "Put your left leg over the arm of the chair and hold your cunt open for me," he said, in a calm, authoritative voice that I had never really heard from him before. I did so immediately, wondering as I did whether that really was fluid leaking out of my slit or if it had just felt like it was. I looked at Paul again and my head was giddy in lust as I slid my fingers down between my legs and teased my pussy lips open for him. No, not pussy lips, cunt lips, I must use 'slut speak'. I had hardly ever heard Paul saying that dirty word. Things were changing second by second and I was becoming increasingly excited by how. "Play with your clit for a few minutes but don't come. I'll be back in a minute," he said, smirking as he left me there, legs akimbo, pussy wide open and on display. I had no problem obeying the first command, but I knew if he wasn't back soon I'd have trouble obeying the second. I'd never been so turned on so quickly. As I started to stretch my fingers over my engorged clitoris, feeling my juices starting to run down between my legs, I wondered where Paul was and what he was doing. My guess was he was freshening up and he was going to come back naked....naked and hard and ready to give this slut what she so obviously wanted. I was wrong, Paul came back still fully dressed. He motioned to me to carry on with my clit action. As I did I gasped in surprise as Paul knelt between my legs and from behind his back, pulled out my biggest twelve inch dildo. My eyes were wide in surprise, Paul didn't even know about my sex toys as far as I knew. I kept them in my own bedside cabinet hidden underneath my smalls and random junk. I guess he had known about them all along and in the previous rules of our marriage were listed under 'things we don't discuss.' I guess I could match him - I knew about his porn movies and his magazines that he thought he had hidden from me! I guess both were a sign that we each looked for sex elsewhere over the last few years rather than to each other. "Your instructions my little slut," he said, waving the big black dildo in the air somewhat ominously, "You're going to hold that slutty cunt of yours open and I'm going to slam as much of this plastic monster inside you as I can manage. Once I've done that, you're going to fuck yourself with it while I slide my very real cock inside your mouth. You're not allowed to come until I've filled that mouth of yours with spunk and you've swallowed the lot and then cleaned me up. That OK with you?" I couldn't answer, I could hardly breathe I was so far gone in lust and erotic fever at this unexpected change of pace. I just nodded my compliance as Paul took effortless control of me. At that moment in time all that mattered was feeling that rod of cock flesh sliding in my mouth. I loved Paul so much at that moment for treating me like this, it was everything I wanted him to do and I was now desperate to play my full part and accept his dick submissively into my mouth. Please use me, husband, I thought, I've shown you what I like and what I want, take what I am giving you freely, the use of my body for your pleasure, use of my mouth right now for your cock. Take mastery of me and allow me to submit to you. I want you to dominate me and use me for your pleasure. Paul enhanced my feelings of submission by pushing my other leg over the other arm of the chair. I was now completely open for him, or more accurately, for the huge plastic cock. He looked intently at my soaked pussy and helped himself to it. He looked me deep in the eye before running his index finger along the length of my slit a few times. He seemed amused as I thrust my hips towards his fingers to try and get it inside me. He then pressed two joined together fingers knuckle deep inside me, smiling again as he felt how ridiculously wet I was. He then stroked them in and out a few times. Satisfied thus far with his game, he then leant over and pressed his fingers into my mouth which I sucked wholeheartedly and eagerly, tasting the wetness of my pussy on his fingers: "Mmm, you filthy slut, are you ready to suck my dick like that...you'd better be...." he said. "Yes...please, I want to suck it,...please...." was about all I could manage to say, even those words difficult as I felt I had hardly any breath in my body to speak. As these delicious thoughts and sensations washed over me and almost made me sick with excitement, Paul prodded the dildo towards my pussy entrance. I showed my keen compliance by opening my hole up for him. He completed the job by firmly pressing the first inch or two inside me. Almost like a relay baton, he let go as it started to penetrate me and I grabbed it as I arched my back enjoying the feeling of my pussy being split open by the thick dildo. I adjusted the angle of penetration slightly and continued to press it home, inch by inch starting to wreak havoc with my cunt. Paul watched fascinated as I could barely breathe in ecstasy as what felt like a mile of plastic cock invaded me. He watched it all slide in before he stood rigidly up over me, obviously content I was well and truly stuffed and that part one of his orders had been met. I began to slide the dildo in and out of my cunt. Despite its thick and lengthy size, I had little trouble taking it as I felt the plastic in my hands soak with my juices. As I did this my eyes were inflamed as I watched Paul at his domineering best. He stood over me, almost tore his pants off, unzipping rapidly before slamming his boxers onto the floor to reveal that gorgeous dick of his which I was now required to service. It was already rock hard and horizontal, the engorged head and shaft demanding attention. Paul gripped it and moved in close to me. I looked up at him just in time as he looked down in lust before sliding his left hand through my hair and feeding his thick pole into my mouth, gripping the shaft at first but letting go as my mouth accommodated him. Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 02 I moaned in pleasure as I felt the thick veins of his dick pumping in my mouth, having to concentrate carefully on maintaining my self-fucking with the dildo. I fought back the urge to grab his cock, I so wanted to feel it throb in my hands too but for now, Paul only wanted my mouth and of a sudden, he was quickly becoming good at taking what he wanted from me, I guess I was becoming good at obeying him. He surprised me then, in a good way, by taunting me as he began to fuck my mouth: "Mmm yes, what an enthusiastic cock sucker. A cock in both ends, carry on being so slutty like this and you might have to get used to this!" He blurted as he started to enjoy the sensation of my tongue and my lips pleasuring the head and shaft of his cock. The implication of that was obvious, especially as we both knew that this side of our marriage we never knew was possible a week earlier was instigated by me fucking another guy. I wondered for a few seconds where such a comment might take us but the frantic and erotic events occurring in my mouth and my pussy were too urgent to allow me to think of anything just then and the thought process escaped me for the time. Paul was in heaven. I had slipped down the chair, my legs spread wide over it, I must have looked quite comical. He had his left knee on the part of the arm of the chair my leg wasn't covering and he was pressing his rock hard dick deep into my mouth. I welcomed it each time as my tongue was pushed aside by the invading length as Paul occasionally made me gag as he pressed against my throat occasionally. I concentrated on bobbing my head back and forward over his hardness, my eyes looking from his stomach and down to his balls which were flopping back and forward erotically in time with his cock sliding in and out my mouth. A few minutes of slurping on his shaft and I could sense he was close. He announced it with a low guttural groan and a verbal announcement: "Aaghhhh, yes, here it comes, taste it, take it, I'm gonna fill your mouth...ahhhh.." His words turned me on even more, I was glad to be his slutty cocksucker and I let out my own moan, low and long as I wrapped my lips around his luscious shaft and felt the release of his pleasure burst in my mouth, jets of come slapping against the roof of my mouth, my tongue and my throat. I savoured this sensation before acting like some sort of bitch on heat and thrusting my mouth sharply over his entire length over and over again like I couldn't get enough. I guess I was complying with his request to clean his cock but really I wanted it in my throat, I wanted it hard, I wanted to feel thoroughly owned by the steel rod that was now jamming my throat. I thought, as he pulled his glistening cock finally from my mouth, about how fulfilled I felt mentally, having just submitted completely to the masculine power of my husband and his cock and how I wanted this treatment all of the time. Of more immediate concern however was my own physical fulfilment. I had stripped for Paul, I had displayed myself, fetched him a drink, fucked myself for his viewing pleasure, sucked him off, swallowed his come and cleaned his cock. The only remaining order of his was not to come until he had done so himself in my mouth. Well, that had happened now and the dildo was still lodged in my frothing pussy as my stomach, loins and all my nerve endings all screamed for release. Paul looked at me, determined to tease me a little more. He had noticed I had begun to fuck myself with the dildo again as the distractions of his cock had been removed but to my exasperation, he reached between my legs, put his hand on my wrist to remove it and then pulled the dildo clean out. I cried out at the physical shock of this withdrawal, the dildo had been stretching my pussy for a good twenty minutes or so, and I needed release but now my pussy seemed so empty. Paul leant towards me, his fingers tracing a line across my damp slit: "Does my dirty little slut wife want to come?" He said mockingly. "God....yes, please Paul, please...I need..." I could hardly speak, the room was spinning and I felt my pussy, or my head, might explode at any minute. I spoke desperately and demandingly at him. "How much do need to come, nat?" He said, trying to make my desperation last a little longer, teasing with his fingers. "PAUL, for fuck's sake, make me come, now...pleassseeee!" I wailed, almost cried, in anxious desperation. With a satisfied smile, Paul dove between my legs. I screamed audibly as I felt his tongue reach straight for my clit, his fingers no longer teasing but now sliding in and out of me. I don't think I'd have been able to count to twenty, I wrapped my legs around his neck and felt my whole body tense and buckle. I screamed and cried I think at the same time as my pussy exploded over Paul's tongue. I held his head in my clutching and sweaty palms as pleasure convulsed through my body until spent, I just melted into the armchair, feeling physically exhausted and almost sick from the strength of my orgasm. This had the potential to have been an awkward moment. Finished with our sex Dom/sub role play, did we just go back to being 'ordinary' again? Was the Dom/sub thing now a permanent feature of 'us' or was it just a sex thing? After a few minutes recovering, I collected my senses and looked at Paul, who had sat himself on the sofa next to me. I noticed his cock was still pointing erect at me, a few minutes after he'd come so powerfully in my mouth. I wasn't sure what to stay: "Wow, that was just so....amazing!" I managed smiling at him. He surprised and delighted me with his reply, "Yeah it was slut, but you're not done yet, far from it. Go and fetch the rest of the wine, two glasses, and get your hot arse into the bedroom. You're my slut now and every slut deserves a hard fucking and that's just what I'm going to give you!" He looked at me with that peculiar combination of arrogance, amusement and surprise, as if he couldn't quite believe himself how he was speaking to his wife of ten years, or how his wife was so eagerly obeying every word and encouraging him to speak to her like that. I stared open-mouthed at his brashness for a few seconds, before rushing off to do as I was told. I raced out into the kitchen post haste, anxious to receive my now promised hard fucking thinking how successful the evening had already been and knowing there was still lots more to come. Of my initial elegant attire I started the evening with, I now had only the stockings and heels on. My stockings were now wet and sticky and my carefully prepared hair and make-up was ridiculously dishevelled, the look that has now become the sign of a thoroughly successful evening! I grabbed two glasses and the remnants of the bottle of wine which no doubt had helped to loosen us both up (I don't think I could be any looser!) and headed into the bedroom. As I opened the door, Paul was lying relaxed on the bed, sat up, his head on the pillow. He motioned for me to lie next to him and to put the wine on the bedside cabinet. "As soon as you can get me back in the mood, I'll give you that fucking I promised," he said, turning his back to pouring us both a glass of wine and handing me one. I took a long slurp of wine and put my glass on the cabinet. "That will not be a problem!" I said, a mischievous smile on my face. I gradually slid down the bed, allowing my long hair to roll down his body, following my head, as I allowed my tongue to roll slowly down his body. First across his chest, I kissed and licked slowly, then across his stomach, low enough now that my hair was between his legs and across his thighs. I continued my descent but teased him as I felt him gasp expectantly. I moved past his groin and ran my tongue down his right thigh and then across to his left thigh. As I did this, I allowed my hand to almost casually roam between his legs. I did this for a few minutes to give him some decent recovery time. I murmured appreciatively as my fingers found that he was hard again, or at least semi-erect. As I lapped at his thigh, I held his cock in my hand and began to run my fingers over the foreskin and head. I moved my tongue further in and started lapping my tongue over his balls, savouring the taste and the feeling of them move against my tongue within their sack. I could feel his cock hardening more and more in my hand and decided this was the moment to employ my mouth again. I leant up and kissed the head of his cock several times, running my tongue over his cock slit, licking up and down his shaft, popping the head in and out of my mouth. In a few minutes, his cock was a rock hard slab of meat again. I knelt on the bed, his cock pulsing on my hand and said as saucily as I could muster, "Looks like Sir is ready to fuck his slut!" I said quite proudly, I was pleased to see how quickly I had managed to get him hard again and held his pulsing cock in my hand like some sort of trophy. Paul laughed at this and nodded in agreement, "Sluts do all the work, slide on it..." He said, smiling back at me casually. "Yes of course Sir," I said, playing along with the delicious game as I held his cock in my hand at the root and held it solidly upwards as I bent over it and lowered myself down on it. I was in bliss as I felt my pussy lips being driven apart again by my husband's thick shaft. I slid my hands through my hair and arched my back as I squatted down his pole all the way until he was buried balls deep inside me. Paul enjoyed the feeling of his tool being buried deep in my cunt as he reached for my heavy tits and mashed them in his hands, rubbing my nipples until they stiffened and made me light-headed with their sensitivity. I closed my eyes in bliss as I squatted up and down, clenching my pussy walls around his cock massaging him and holding him in place as I slid my slippery pussy lips up and down his shaft, pausing for a few seconds at a time so I could enjoy the sensation of his cock filling my pussy fully, enjoying the feeling of my outer pussy flesh rubbing against his balls below me. I was enjoying myself, lost in pleasure but Paul had different ideas. I felt him push me over on the bed and I relaxed, waiting to see where he wanted me. He actually took my hand and pulled me off the bed, leading me over to the small table in the bedroom. With a small push against the small of my back, I realised he wanted me from behind. I loved how he often preferred to dominate me in silence, it was somehow more authoritative. I compliantly placed my hands palm flat onto the far end of the table and pushed my bum up as far as I could, waiting submissively for him to take me. I turned around slightly to look at Paul and giggled a little as I saw him a few paces behind me looking at my arse and stroking his cock. What a sight I must have looked, bent over a desk, bare arse poking high in the air, pussy lips inflamed and ready, legs in seamed black stockings, feet in stilettos, waiting to be taken hard like any good slut should. I didn't have long to wait as Paul walked towards me gripping his thick dick. He practically walked his shaft up into me as he hardly broke stride, walking towards me, aiming at my cunt and finding no resistance, burying himself deep up me. I groaned loudly with the sudden force of being filled completely and quickly, the momentum of him pushing me forward against the table, which rocked on its legs in time with his long thrusts. He began to give me the previously promised hard seeing to, gripping my shoulders strongly as I closed my eyes and took what he gave, his balls slapping my bum gently as he took what he wanted. His hands moved from sometimes pinning me down by my shoulders so he could rut me, to moving to my front where he mashed my breasts. I thought with everything he did, he was rougher than normal. Paul has always been a gentle and considerate lover previously. With this game he was rougher, more urgent, but still I could tell, trying to give me what he thought I wanted. It was working! He continued to shaft me and in our excitement, we talked dirty and filthy to each other almost as if we were sharing something completely new, a Dom/slut marriage that we would never have thought possible only last week: "Oh yes, you little slut, take it all, I'm filling up your dirty cunt!" "Yes, take me, make me your slut, fill me up!" "Tell me how much your enjoying my cock, tell me you like me fucking you hard." "God yes, I love being fucked hard, take me, pump me full of come, use my whore pussy!" "Good from now on, this pussy is mine, I'm going to take you hard, whenever I want it!" "Yes, I want you to, my pussy is yours, fuck it hard whenever you want, I'm your slut..!" As I said this, he stopped suddenly and abruptly. Thinking I'd said something wrong, I turned my head around to face him, his hard rod still buried deep inside me. I saw his face, it was quite a surreal sight as he smirked as if suddenly struck by a cunning idea. "You know, you ARE my slut now. I think that entitles me to access all of your charms, don't you?" he said, still not removing his cock at all, it throbbed inside me. I tried to clear my head from the sex fog to work out what he meant and suddenly realised he meant my arse! I blushed crimson, I'd only ever done anal once or twice before, only once with Paul and we'd abandoned it after a minute or two. "You mean, you want to...." I began. "You know what I want, ask me to do it and I will!" He said. He was certainly getting the hang of this, he was telling me he was going to arse fuck me and also at the same time getting me to ask him for it. I was worried and nervous but excited and thrilled at the same time. I was determined to rise to the bait, he was trying to get me to show him how much of a slut I wanted to be. I was determined to show him just that and that I go could go as far as he wanted me to down the path to debauchery. With a nervous intake of breath I blurted it out: "Yes Sir, please fuck my slut arse. Fill my arse full of your cock, stretch me and fuck it hard, I want to feel your cock pump my arse full of come!" He still had his dick in my pussy until then. With my slut submission talk, he pulled it clean out of me and roared in excited approval. He told me to wait exactly where I was and not to move a muscle as he scurried off. He returned a few seconds later. I giggled nervously at a private comic moment. As I watched him come back into the bedroom, his engorged penis was the first bit of him I saw beyond the bedroom door, quickly followed by the rest of his body as he prepared to take his latest prize, my arse. He had a bottle of baby oil in his hand. He started teasingly at first, he opened the bottle and squeezed so a steady cold stream of oil dribbled down my back and between my legs, and across my bum and pussy. Full of oil down there, he used the flat of his hand and smeared it all over my nether regions lustily. Then he was a little more direct, he squeezed the bottle firmly so a little mini volcano of oil squirted against and inside my bum. He squirted some on his fingers too and set to work on forcing his index finger into my anus. I gasped as the un-comfortableness of this at first but he seemed to ignore this and opened me up a little more with another finger. I was getting worried as I couldn't begin to imagine how I was going to take his thick shaft up there when even two fingers were troublesome but my bum hole did seem to be relaxing against the slipperiness of the oil. "Wanna help out?" He said, offering me the oil. I shrugged and took the bottle off him. I wasn't really sure how this worked but I could guess that the more oil, the less pain! I coated my fingers and palms in oil and turned around and grabbed his thick cock, rubbing thick globs of oil onto his nob, as much as I could. He closed his eyes in pleasure at the sensation of this as I started giving him a slippery wank but my purpose was purely functional, I wanted him slippery so he could get in and out without pain! Paul then took control of the situation again: "Right, wife! Bend over and assume the position, I'm going to hammer that arse!" This was said in mock jest but while we both smiled, I still fully complied. I bent myself over the length of the bedside cabinet again, reached my oily hands flat across the surface and stuck my bum high in the air. I was so nervous, it had been years since I'd done this. Nervous but so excited. As these slut games developed, this seemed a natural extension of what should happen. I was his slut, of course he should take my arse whenever he wanted to, and take my arse he certainly did! The first contact with him was feeling his hands pulling my arse cheeks apart slowly but deliberately. As he did, he gripped his cock and pressed it against my bum hole. It felt sharp and painful at first as he began to press heavily against my bum but he made some progress and he was gentle, giving the area another cold jet of oil to grease me up a little more. He had just enough length up me now to allow him to place one hand on my shoulder as he gripped me while his other hand was sorting out enabling the entrance of his cock in my arse. I began to low moan as I felt my arse starting to open up against the slow relentless force of his thick cock. Slowly but surely, inch by thick inch, he snaked his full length up my bum until almost with a satisfied sigh from us both, he had both his hands on my shoulders and he was balls deep inside me. My bum felt on fire and it felt like his cock was going to make my arse explode as I could almost feel each thick vein of his cock pulse against my inner walls as his excitement increased. As I say though, he was gentle and considerate. He didn't thrust at all for a few minutes, he just kept it in place while kissing and nibbling my ears and back of my neck, allowing my hole to adjust and accommodate him. I gasped in lust as he whispered a question to me, "Ready to get your arse fucked slut?" My head swam and my face flushed, I couldn't speak as I was so breathless. I just looked behind me towards him and nodded. I wanted this, I really did. I wanted to give him the pleasure of fucking my arse and I viewed this almost as a test to pass. This was the first time I'd been taken anally for years but I knew with this new game we were playing that this would become a regular occurrence. I genuinely wanted him to take me whenever he wanted to, to award him with that power of access over me. This was the first of many times he would decide to fuck my arse and the first of the many times I would willingly give it up to him. Encouraged by my keen acquiescence, he slowly pulled his thick shaft a couple of inches out of me, and then back into me. My eyes watered a little but the sensation was erotic and heady as Paul grunted in pleasure as he enjoyed the close attention of my arse hole on his cock shaft. His thrusts now begin longer and deeper but to my relief, still not too hard and fast. I was being arse fucked nicely but in a lovely rhythmically firm way. I was enjoyed the closeness of him, the feeling of his chest and stomach rubbing against me, the noise and feeling of his hot breath behind me. Paul picked the pace up, my arse was sufficiently pliant now that he was able to pull his dick almost all of the way out of me, before pushing it all the way back in. I could feel his heavy balls pressing against my arse and pussy. I had my eyes closed, bent over the table, taking the hard shafting my husband had promised me, feeling light headed and lusty. As Paul's pace continued, I knew he would come soon, as he responded keenly to the sensation of fucking such a tight hole. He began slamming me quite roughly, causing me the odd flash of pain, my boobs rocking back and forward against the table. Paul was moaning louder now as he took me, he gripped my shoulders harder, almost trying to force my whole body onto his shaft. Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 02 He let out a low, long growl and, with his cock buried deep in my hole, announced he was coming. My bum spasmed in pleasure as I felt his cock throb violently inside me and empty the contents of his balls deep in my bowels. As he came I tilted my head around and we kissed deeply through his orgasm, as we shared the thrill of feeling his cock spasm inside me, our tongues entwined as I heard him moan and low growl as he filled me up, his tongue throbbing on mine. A minute or so later, he pulled his slippery cock out of my well used hole. I felt every bit the dutiful slut, having given up my arse on his orders. His closing comment before going to freshen up was, "You'd better get used to that, it's going to become a regular thing!" That was fine by me I thought, as I joined him in the bathroom to freshen up and finally get my stockings off as I felt oil and sperm trickling out of me. Recovering from one of the most amazing nights sex of our lives, Paul and I cuddled together. Obviously without being able to read his mind, I felt pretty sure he was thinking very similar thoughts to me such as what all of these experiences meant and how it might change us. Actually I thought again, he's a guy, he's probably just thinking what a great shag he'd just had I joked mentally to myself! He wasn't though. He surprised me by calmly saying, "We should talk." I sat further up the bed and looked at him, he looked thoughtful and earnest, "OK," I said, shrugging. He paused, thinking of how to start before finding some words: "We need to talk about what's happening here. I mean, we've had two amazing sex sessions, first time in years and it all seems to have been instigated by you....well you screwing some other guy," he said somewhat tentatively and nervously. "But that was just a dirty, drunken mistake, I'm sorry that ever happened, really...." I said, nervously not really wanting to go there. Paul cut me off: "I'm not!" he said. "You're not sorry it happened?" I said in astonished surprise. "No. It's led to all this and besides it was....it was incredible...." he said, his eyes flashing towards me nervously. "Incredible?" I said, puzzled, "You mean you're glad I fucked another guy!?" I sat upright now, I had no idea where he was going with this. "Well kind of, yes, no...I mean, I don't know!" he was clearly grappling with internal doubt and confusion himself, "Seeing you there with him that night. My first instinct was to rush over and punch his lights out. I'm still surprised I didn't. But, well, when I didn't do that I realised I felt completely turned on. Straight away I wanted you, there and then. Almost as if until that point I'd forgotten how damn hot you are! Does this make any sense?" As he said it, he turned to face me, a look of puzzlement all over his face as if he himself had no idea where he was going with this chat. "Not really?" I said, "But go on, I'm listening." I thought for a minute back to that moment of me being discovered and how, even in the total embarrassed panic of it all, I could see him pause, not knowing quite what to do, these must have been his internal thoughts, delivered to me a week later. He continued, "I pushed the guy out the door just because he was in the way, not because I was mad at him. I just wanted him gone so I could....well, fuck you. I'm not even curious about him, I don't want to know about him." I looked nervously at him, "So you don't mind me fucking other men in other words?" I said, starting to worry that this was a different set of fantasies entirely and this was taking us in a direction I didn't much like the sound of. "No I don't. Well, I mean I wouldn't....as long as it was on my terms...I mean, you read stories about cuckolds, I'm not one of those wimp dicked guys who gets off on being humiliated. I just...well I just enjoyed seeing you being such a slut. I loved watching you...maybe I'm a voyeur?" Throughout his speech, he talked so slowly and deliberately as he thought and spoke carefully at the same time. I looked at him still puzzled although what he said made some sense. He was totally aroused seeing me in the post 'glow' of the fucking from Grant, even if it had been so unsatisfactory personally. I'd always known he was something of a voyeur so this wasn't a complete shock, I just wasn't sure where he was going with it. I tried to get to the point: "But Paul, what are you saying? That you want to watch me with other guys so you can get aroused and fuck me yourself. I'm broad-minded as you know, but this sounds a little far out hunni....?" I said imploringly and questioningly. "Not exactly that no. But think of the fun we had the day after and what we've done today. I want more of that and I know you do. It's the best sex we've ever had!" He was very right, we both knew it, the sex we'd just had was better than our first night together, better than it had ever been in our flush of first love together, the best and most erotic experience I had ever had and it was with my husband of ten years who for the past few years, I had completely disregarded as a potential source of eroticism. "Yes, I agree, it's been amazing, but, well.......what is it that you want?" I said, determined to help the conversation along and cut to the chase. Paul paused and sat up. I think he was worried about what he was going to say next and how I would react and he started nervously: "The reason it's been so good for me is that you've brought out a side of me that's always been there, a dominant side. I love ordering you around and telling you what to do and well, I kind of want more of it and I want it to go further over time," he said, somewhat cryptically. I still wasn't quite sure where this was going but it was clearly a time for honesty, "Paul, as I've told you recently and in fact, demonstrated recently, I love being submissive to you. I'd be quite happy to be the obedient little slut wife to you for the rest of our days, I love being controlled by you, used by you if you want to call it that, I'll happily be your slut wife," I said, feeling a surge of eroticism course through me at the boldness of my admission. Paul looked at me thoughtfully and said simply, "All the time?" "What do you mean all the time?" I said, not comprehending. "I mean I want you as my slut all of the time," he asked again. "All the time as in, do what you want to me whenever you want all the time?" I said, beginning to get hot with arousal. "Yes, that sort of all the time, I want to have the freedom to do whatever I want to you, or have you do whatever I want whenever I ask. Of course, I'll be discreet and mindful of practicalities but, well, what do you say? If you agree, you become my full time slut wife. I make all the decisions for us, you do whatever I say. I don't mean just sexual either, I mean anything I say!" I was taken aback by this but so aroused. What he said seemed to chime in perfectly with what I wanted. I looked at him thoughtfully, I felt my face flush. He already knew my answer, but I had a question too: "Yes, I agree, it sounds amazing but let's talk some more first and agree the ground rules. A question though," I said, tracing my hand up his arm absent-mindedly, "What you were saying before about other guys, that's what you mean isn't it? You making all the decisions for us could include decisions about me fucking other guys...?" I said, eyes wide, searching for the answer. Paul looked distantly before answering, "Yeah I guess, or other girls..." he glanced at me teasingly, a broad smirk on his face and a glint in his eye, "We'll take that slowly though, you OK with that?" I took a deep breath before answering, "Yes Sir"" I said, smiling nervously and wondering where the hell this was all leading. I got an answer of sorts in the next breath: "Good, now that's agreed, Sir wants his dick in his wife's mouth again," As he said it he smiled at me, looked down at his groin and pointed. I smiled back at his casual boldness before sliding dutifully down the bed to commence my slut wife duties. It was going to be a busy weekend.... Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 03 Preface The two previous chapters of this story appeared in the 'Loving Wives' section. I deliberated for a while as to where to place this chapter before deciding it really doesn't matter all that much. As the content from this point on will be slightly more dom/sub I have put it back in my regular home of 'BDSM' but it could equally be a Loving Wives story I think. A quick summary of the plot so far – I cheated on my hubby, he caught me, he fucked me and we both decided that it had awoken something we both wanted to explore – my desire to be treated like a slut, his desire to watch me being a slut, and to treat me as such. This next chapter continues our journey. For those who have commented negatively about my/our lifestyle choices with the whole slut wife thing, tough! These are my desires, fantasies and sexuality being written about for the pleasure of those who enjoy erotic writing and have the ability to enjoy and appreciate a wider range of consensual, sexual experiences. If you don't like the theme, go read something else, I really don't care for moralising judgements, if you do, then you're maybe on the wrong website, just a thought.. ==== My husband had given me clear instructions. I was told to take the Friday afternoon off work, to prepare dinner and that he would be in at 5pm. The rules of this particular game were very simple; I was to do everything he told me without question and without hesitation. As I scurried dutifully around the kitchen preparing dinner, I knew 'everything' would include our lovely and invigorating brand of rough fucking and dominant control that I enjoyed probably even more than he did. I just didn't know right then what form it would take but I knew I was already wet and fully seduced by the thoughts that were racing through my mind. He could take me now, right now and I would be ready for him. The day had started as a usual Friday, rudely awaken by the nerve shredding shrill of the alarm clock, both Paul and I stumbling around in the gloom brushing teeth, washing, performing oblutions and so on. At the breakfast table, we were 'enjoying' our customary hurried tea, toast and cereal before leaping into our cars and battling with the rush hour traffic to take our usual places in the office madness. What time we did have however led to the conversation that in turn lead to me being back here now, my pussy throbbing in anticipation of what was about to happen to me. "Are you able to leave early today?" Paul said casually, in between munching on his toast. I glanced at him questioningly, "I guess so, I've got some morning meetings but that's about all I think," I shrugged. "Well you are the boss, hon," Paul said smirking. He was right of course, I could pretty much come and go as I pleased as long as my work was done and I was already happy that apart from a couple of quick meetings, it should be a relatively easy day. "OK then, I guess I can leave early. What do you have in mind, do you want to go out somewhere?" I asked. "No, quite the opposite," he said, "I want us to stay in!" He said, grinning. "Stay in? So why do I need to leave early?" I said, perhaps a little irritably, I wasn't really a morning person and I wasn't enjoying Paul being so cryptic. He soon made himself much clearer: "I want you to leave at 2pm, you will come back here, prepare dinner and wait for me. I will be back at 5pm. When I get back, you will obey everything I say, do anything I want without comment or complaint. I will give you further instructions by text between now and then. Is that clear, SLUT...? I just stared at first, my toast in my hand frozen in mid-air, my mouth agape. Paul finished his little speech and looked at me calmly and 'butter wouldn't melt' style, perhaps with a slight smile of amusement as he watched my reaction. I literally didn't know what to say and he seemed to enjoy my stunned confusion. I looked at him again. I had wondered when we would continue this lovely game again. It had been a few days since the events I told in a previous chapter. The only sound for a few seconds was the 'swish' of my tights below the table as I uncrossed my legs. I took a deep breath and said the only thing that seemed appropriate, "Yes of course.... Sir!" I said as we exchanged eye contact, a nervous chuckle and then a quick peck on the cheek as Paul left, his keys in one hand, his briefcase in the other. As he stood up, I noticed his pants straining a little in the crotch area, he had a semi on. I glanced at it knowingly and gave him an ironic smile and look. He shrugged, laughed and left for work. As he left, I looked at my watch and regretted he hadn't asked me ten minutes earlier, I was so turned on that I had the strong urge to take his cock in my mouth there and then and show him exactly how much I approved of his developing dominance. It would have to wait though, I had work to go to, albeit only a short morning's worth before who knows what waiting for me when Paul got home. Even though I only had two meetings and some routine enquiries to deal with, everything seemed to drag interminably. I even thought of making my excuses and leaving even earlier than planned. Paul sent me a couple of texts that made my impatience even worse. The first said, "Looking forward to fucking my slut wife later, she better be ready." The second was similar, more direct, "Not long to go before you're on your knees sucking my cock." I didn't reply to either text. I didn't have time but they did make my head swim in anticipation and lust. The clock finally ticked around to when I could go home. As I returned to the house at about 2pm, the latest text contained fairly precise instructions on what I was to wear. I was surprised he actually knew what clothes I owned, I guess he had taken a look in advance for this very purpose. The clothes he chose - well you could tell a man had chosen them. He had me wear no underwear but the now traditional black seamed stockings. For shoes he just stipulated 'black heels' so I chose what I considered to be my sexiest pair. No real surprises so far. The dress choice was surprising however. I would have guessed he would have had me in one of my little black dress numbers, or something with a gaping cleavage, kind of classy and trashy all at the same time but he actually chose a floral print Laura Ashley style dress. Very feminine and elegant I guess, but not what I thought of as my sexiest attire. The dress was quite a long, loose one, below knee length. I was worried it wouldn't fit as I'd not worn it for twelve months or more but it actually felt really comfortable once I had found it and slipped it on. I'd enjoy wearing it and hopefully he would enjoy ripping it off me later! As I put my instructed clothes on, I did feel giddy with excitement but giggled a little as I dressed myself in such a strange fashion combination. Slut heels and stockings underneath a floral print summer dress. Hey ho, whatever Master wants I thought to myself...! As I prepared to go downstairs to get dinner ready and prepare for him coming back and whatever he had in store for me, I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror. I lifted my dress up to reveal my stockings and felt a knot of giddy tension in my stomach. I knew his idea of the evening involved rough dominant sex and looking at myself in the mirror, he had me dressed as a conservative housewife on the outside, and a dirty slut underneath. Pretty much summed me up I smiled to myself as I let the dress fall back down over my legs and wiggled out on my heels downstairs and into the kitchen. Half an hour into my dinner preparations I got another text. 'I'll be home in one hour. Be prepared, you'll do exactly what you are told at all times. I expect dinner to be almost ready when I get back but we're not going to eat straight away. No talking when I get in, just do what I tell you and take what I give you." The text took my breath away, I loved it when Paul spoke me now with such assumed dominance. I felt my pussy throb and twinge between my legs and I considered sliding my hands beneath my dress but I resisted. I was already wet and ready for whatever my filthy husband had in mind. I was determined to go along with it to the letter. I would only do what he told me, no more, no less. Every minute of my food preparation was frustrating. I kept listening for that key in the door knowing as soon as I heard it, anything could happen, it felt so deliciously unpredictable, which I guess was one of the effects Paul was aiming for. I had the dinner ready a little too early if anything. I plated it up and left it in the oven to maintain the heat. As I wondered what to do to kill some time, I heard it; the key in the door. I had my back to the kitchen door pretending to carry on with my preparations. I heard him stride into the kitchen and my body tensed and I had that anticipatory tickling sensation all over my body as I felt him move right up behind me, my pussy wet and throbbing as my mind had been on erotic overdrive for hours already. I was breathless and my body felt clammy as I realised I had no idea what was going to happen and I had voluntarily given up all control to him. I groaned inwardly as I felt his hard-on through his pants immediately against my back and bum. Clearly he was looking forward to this too, he pressed his erection firmly against me, it felt hard and long and I wanted it already. For some reason, I had hold of a wooden spoon at that moment. Paul grabbed it out of my hand forcefully and tossed it across the kitchen work top, it ricocheted of the work top and bounced onto the floor. With his other hand, he slid under my dress and straight between my legs. I opened my legs as much as I could, wanting to show him I was completely open and compliant for him. I heard him say something like, 'Jeez!' Possibly acknowledging how hopelessly wet I was as his fingers quickly rubbed across my slit and inside me. His fingers were not slow and tender like he had been throughout our married life, they were rough and urgent, finding their target of my wetness. I felt he was doing this not for my pleasure, but to ensure I was ready for entry. I definitely was. I stretched my head back against him in pleasure. I felt his lips and tongue on the back of my neck, my ears and my shoulders as he started to finger fuck me roughly. I imagined my juices pouring out of me as I tried to lift myself higher onto his fingers. I barely noticed that with his other hand, he had unzipped and his hard cock was poking out behind me aggressively. I thought of dropping to my knees and sucking him there and then but I realised he was the one in control. I'd wait for instructions. The very next second he gave me them. Without even speaking, he pushed my shoulders down strongly so I was bent over the work top. Within seconds, he placed my hands flat on the work top and roughly pulled my dress up clean over my hips. He pulled my hips up so that I lifted my bum high in the air. I didn't have time to think, I knew he was basically going to fuck me hard, right there, right then. I wanted it, fuck, I needed it, take me you dirty bastard, bend me over my own kitchen work top and fuck the shit out of me, use your wife's dirty whore cunt, fuck me roughly, use me. As these slutty thoughts flashed through my mind, I felt my body lurch forward against the work top as my husband did exactly what I had mentally urged him to. As soon as he had me bent over, he gripped his swollen dick and launched it straight up me, filling my pussy fully, easily, with one thrust and a grunt that hurled me against the cold surface of the work top, he was balls deep inside me. He wasted no time, he used no finesse; fuck, he hadn't even used any words. Once his cock was buried inside me, he basically grabbed my hips tightly, and in fast, urgent trusts, gave me a deliciously frenzied fuck. He fucked me senseless, he must have given me about 15 or 20 long hard thrusts of his thick shaft as I hung on for dear life, my accommodating pussy being roughly invaded and split in two around his thick meat, his balls actally slapping me quite firmly with the force of his thrusts. The first proper words he spoke since he'd got in where, "Ah, take it you filthy slut, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes!" As he said this, he gripped my hips even more tightly, buried his cock deep inside my cunt and filled me full of hot, thick spunk. I felt my pussy throbbing around his shaft, it felt like I was milking him as he deposited what felt like a pint of come inside me whilst he held me in place firmly, using me as if I was simply the receptacle of his come. As he came down from the high of his orgasm, I felt the tension ooze out of his body. He pulled his dick out of me firmly. He surprised me again by simply folding (as best he could) his dick back into his pants and zipping back up, he gave me a swat of his palm on my arse and pulled the skirt of my dress back down over my waist. I stood up and sighed breathlessly, feeling every inch the well-used slut. Paul looked at me curiously, a little amused and simply said, "I'm going to freshen up and get changed, I expect dinner on the table in twenty minutes," and with that strode off to the bathroom and to get changed. I looked at him amazed, but also so turned on. He'd come in, fucked me, taken what he wanted and without even acknowledging it, had moved on with his evening. I didn't really know what to say, I said nothing, smiled naughtily at him, and walked back to the kitchen to carry on with dinner, my pussy slick with come and starting to leak as I walked the few steps to the oven. I was almost in a trance and my feelings were hard to explain. I hadn't even come, yet that didn't seem to matter, in fact, in this context it made it better, I had felt so completely used, it was all for him and my pleasure wasn't even a factor, not even a thought. My head was spinning and I felt wonderful, I was looking forward to whatever else would happen to me but already this had been a fantasy fulfilled. I felt like the serving wench who had been routinely fucked by her Lord and Master. He had simply taken possession of what was his, my pussy. What's more, as I stood there having just been so aggressively 'had', I was now dutifully preparing his dinner and waiting further instructions. I finished meal preparations in head-spinning silence, noticing my hands were shaking and my heart was pounding with the excitement at what had just happened. Paul returned and joined me at the table and we spent a pleasant hour eating, drinking a little wine and chatting. It was as if we hadn't just had frantic, urgent sex just five yards away from where we were now sat. It was all perfectly civilised and respectable and 'normal'. As civilised as this was, I was quickly reminded that we were still in Dom/sub mode. As we finished dinner, Paul stood up and said, "Get this cleaned up and come and join me in the lounge, we need to discuss this evening." He didn't wait for my reaction this time, he just assumed I would obey. Too right I did, I was so enjoying this changing dynamic and I was becoming fascinated by how Paul's demeanour and attitude were changing. It didn't feel like a game anymore, just a new regime and he seemed to suit it perfectly, I did too. As I hurriedly tidied up, I entered the lounge to see Paul was sat on the chair. He smiled warmly at me and patted the couch next to him to indicate I was to sit down. He motioned to pass me my glass of wine but seemed to change his mind. He looked at me calmly and said, "Lift your dress up and spread your legs first." He chuckled as he noticed my taken aback face. This evening was full of surprises. I remembered what I had promised though and did as he ordered. I stood up, lifted the hem of my dress high above my waist and sat back down, bunching the dress across my stomach. I blushed markedly as he gazed between my legs. His come from before had dribbled down my legs and even though it had dried by now, I'm sure he could still see it. Even though this was my husband of ten years and he had seen me naked a thousand times over, this felt different and humiliating, like he was inspecting his property and enjoying my embarrassment at being so openly on display for his voyeur enjoyment. Time seemed to stand still as he surveyed my stocking clad legs and my pussy. He looked me in the eyes again and said, "Changed my mind, take the dress off completely and sit back down. I want to look at your tits." I stood up, reached behind me and unhooked and unzipped the dress, letting it slide away from me as I stepped out of it. I motioned to sit back down, now naked apart from stockings and shoes but before I did, Paul motioned with his hand, "Not so fast, pick the dress up off the floor, fold it and put it on the chair," he ordered. I had no idea why he'd asked this, just exerting the power he had over me I guess. I bent over to scoop the dress up, feeling my breasts fall down vertically beneath me as I did so and folded it as instructed, feeling Paul's gaze firmly on my near naked body. I sat down. I was instructed to drape my right leg over the arm of the couch so my pussy was completely on display for him. My head was a fog of lust as I wondered where this was now going as I sat there as if I was posing for a men's magazine, openly on display for my husband. Paul sat back to enjoy the show, his eyes alive with lust at seeing his wife dressed like such a slut on the couch in front of him. He sipped his wine, passed me my glass and gave his next orders, "Right wife, strum that clit whilst we have a chat. I want to see you play with yourself until you come. But if you do come, you're not to stop talking to me. Is that clear?" I looked at him in the eyes with lust. I was a little ashamed of my eagerness as I realised my fingers were already draped over my cunt in readiness to obey. I just about managed a weak, "Yes," in response. He greeted this with a smile and then opened both his hands in a gesture that said, 'help yourself or get on with it.' I had little or no dignity to preserve by this point, as soon as he gave me the go ahead, I slid my index finger straight into my pussy, and across my clit. I groaned audibly at the pleasure I felt straight away. I'd been on erotic tenterhooks for hours, been roughly fucked in the kitchen but still hadn't had release of my own. As soon as my fingers found my sodden clit I knew I wouldn't last long. I didn't want to last long, my stomach was almost aching in need of release. My arousal was intensified as I looked at Paul, in turn looking at my fingers in my cunt. I felt such a slut in the lounge, frigging myself off in front of my fully clothed husband. He was clearly amused but he reminded me that his orders were that we were to have a chat as I masturbated for him. He started: "Did you enjoy the fucking I just gave you?" "Yes....I did," I said, struggling to even focus on the words as my arousal grew. "I did too. You make such a natural slut. Do you want my cock again?" "Mmm, yes...yes I do, I want your cock inside me." As I said this, I watched him, I was almost frantic now as my clit throbbed in my fingers. I saw him lift his bum up and pull his pants down. My heart skipped a beat again as I watched him pull his meaty shaft into his hand and show it to me as I pleasured myself by pressing down firmly with my index finger onto my swollen clit. "Is this what you want?" he said, grinning, and waving the shaft of his cock theatrically from side to side. I felt hypnotised by its stiffness and hardness and stared at it while pleasuring myself. I may have even involuntarily licked my lips. My pussy certainly throbbed even more, every signal I gave out to him showed I needed his cock. I felt he was turning me into a cock-hungry slut and I was enjoying my own transformation as much as he was. Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 03 "Yes, yes, give me your cock, I'm a whore, give me what I need!" I said, almost wailing in near orgasmic tension. "Do you want to suck my cock you dirty whore?" Paul said, as he calmly and slowly, teasingly pulled his foreskin enticingly up and down over the meaty shaft of his penis. "Oh...god....yes....I want to.....I want....." I couldn't continue, the sight of Paul playing with his stiffy and my soaked fingers had sent me over the edge. I slipped all the way off the couch and almost onto the floor, spilling the drop of wine I'd had left in my glass over my stockings as I exploded in orgasm, my pussy convulsing against my fingers. It was fortunate happenstance for Paul, I ended up in a kneeling position, albeit crumpled in a heap, my legs underneath me. Paul stood up in front of me, his dick bouncing horizontally into view in front of my face. He'd obviously enjoyed the sight of his wife bringing herself to orgasm but he didn't show much interest in the event; "Suck my dick, slut!" He said simply. It was all the instruction I needed. I didn't even think, my orgasm was practically still going on and a torrent of lust overtook me. I wanted nothing else other than my husband's cock in my mouth, right now. I kneeled up vertically, I grabbed the cock by the base of the shaft, I ran my tongue greedily all over his balls and shaft before sliding my mouth greedily over his pole until it filled my mouth entirely. We had been playing a game of Master and whore but as I devoured his dick on my knees in the lounge, I realised I wasn't playing, there was something of my true self in this and I sucked his dick urgently like some kind of cock addict, overcome with the need to please him and do whatever he asked. I looked up as I sucked him. His face and piercing eyes were alive with the excitement of the situation. He slid his fingers through my hair every once in a while so he could see his cock slide in and out of my mouth. "You better get used to this nat," Paul said confidently, "You've shown me your slutty whore nature now, I never realised before just what a slut you were. Now I know, you'll be on your knees every day for the rest of our lives!" I didn't answer. Apart from the obvious practical difficulties of trying to speak and suck at the same time, I didn't want to argue. I just sucked and hummed my acceptance of what he was saying. I hoped he was right. "Perhaps it's not the only cock you'll be sucking tonight though!" Paul said. I stopped suddenly, the head of his cock still in my mouth. He looked nervous all of a sudden, had he gone too far? What would be my reaction? Ever since that night at the Christmas party, other men had been there as a 'thing' in the background. Perhaps this was the moment of no return. If I agreed to his 'sort-of-question' it would then give him the freedom to involve others. I wanted to think. I looked back down to Paul's cock and fondled his balls and continued to lick lovingly over his shaft and the head of his cock. Paul wanted an answer though: "Would you like that slutty nat? Do you want to suck some other cocks? Tell me." I looked up at him again and popped the head of his cock out of my mouth. I was nervous as I wasn't actually sure what I was going to say. I knew in my heart what the answer was though: "All I want Paul, is to do whatever you tell me to do. To do what you want me to do." I looked up at him again and he smiled in agreement at what I had said. Almost jokingly, he said quickly, "Fine, but carry on sucking!" I did and Paul gave me more information on what he was planning: "I've asked Stuart to come over later for a drink. Is that OK with you?" He said, a slight smirk on his face. He was toying with me, was he telling me that he was going to involve Stuart in this game? He continued, "I'm going to tell him about our 'games' and if I feel like it, I'm going to involve him. I haven't completely decided yet." I looked him in the eye, he was concentrated and earnest and I knew he was telling the truth. Paul was dipping a toe in this water and seeing how the evening panned out before committing us to this route. I was happy, in fact, turned on happy, to let him decide everything, even knowing that such a decision could involve me fucking a friend of his in front of him. Gut wrenching scary, but so very, very sexy. I pondered that and then thought immediately as to whether I liked the idea. Stuart was about our age, divorced last year, his now ex-wife Fiona was still a sort of friend of mine although I hadn't seen her for months and we'd lost touch. Stuart was an attractive guy, broad shouldered, tall and imposing at 6ft 3, quite hunky with closely cut blonde hair and steel blue eyes. He was definitely a guy I found physically attractive. His manly build came from his work with the TA. He was a Civil Engineer by trade, bright and intelligent and well rounded. I didn't like him as a person very much though. What made him more alluring was his rolling Scottish accent, having come to England years ago when he had met Fiona. His marriage had ended though because he had had an affair. It later emerged he'd had more than one woman on the side and he saw women more as conquests than anything else from what I could tell and also, from what I recalled from whenever he and Paul had got together for their 'laddish' chats. Not that I'd ever told Paul, but Stuart had tried it on with me twice before, at house parties some time ago and couldn't seem to understand why I'd spurned his advances. I didn't like Paul and Stuart together either, they reverted to acting like childish school boys when together, especially when they were drunk. "Yes, it's OK," I said, amongst the maelstrom of all these thoughts and in between running my tongue across the long shaft of Paul's cock, trying to sound innocent and relatively disinterested. "Of course, the rule is still in place when he gets there. You still have to do whatever I tell you," Paul said, continuing to enjoy my lips and tongue on his throbbing length. I didn't respond, I just carried on sucking, his cock was rigid in my mouth and I was beginning to get ready to taste his come. "Tell me..." said Paul, his voice starting to strain as he got closer to coming, and grabbing my head more forcibly, "Will you suck his cock if I tell you to?" I was calm at this point, my internal thoughts had already addressed this. I looked up at Paul, clamped my lips tightly around the head of his cock and stared up at him. I kept his cock in my mouth for a few seconds maintaining eye contact with Paul the whole time before popping it out and grabbing his shaft with my right hand and started to slow wank him. I said, "I'll do whatever you tell me, if you tell me to suck his cock, I'll suck his cock." This had an instant impact on Paul, his cock expanded even more in my hand, the head of his cock only an inch or two from my face. I stroked him furiously, my hand up and down his shaft like a blur. The thought of me his wife sucking his friend's dick had apparently tipped my husband over the edge. "Ahhhh, toss me off all over your face, dirty whore!" Said Paul, his legs buckling underneath him in excitement. His knees were practically on the ground as he let out a low groan and I saw a hot jet of cum splat against my cheek. I looked for eye contact quickly and found it just in time for him to see me open my mouth wide and another thick jet of spunk land square in my mouth. I moved my mouth right over his cock slit to collect the rest. Still keeping eye contact, I leant my head back theatrically to demonstrate my eagerness to swallow his load. I did and returned my mouth to his cock to hoover up the remaining jizz greedily. A few minutes later, we had collected our senses again. Now in calmer frames of mind, we made sure we both knew what we were getting into. Paul started: "What I said before, about you sucking Stuart's cock. I mean, would you really do it, if I asked?" Paul said tentatively. I blushed a little. It still seemed strange talking like this with him when not in the throes of passion. I looked earnestly at him and wanted to reassure him; "Paul, I've never been so turned on as I have these last few days. It's come from you dominating me, controlling me. I need more of it. I meant what I said before, if you want me to suck his cock I will, if you don't, I won't. Sorry if it puts it all on you, but that's what I want, you to make the decisions. All of them." Paul looked pensive, as if he wasn't sure what he wanted, I continued; "I could ask though, why it is that you actually want me to suck his cock?" I said, with a questioning raise of my eyebrows. He looked at me and shrugged, "Because I enjoy the control too and you know I've always been a voyeur. I'm not one of these wimp husbands you read about but as long as I stay in control, I'd love to well, show you off with other guys." "What do you mean, show me off?" I said puzzled. "I want other guys, well some other guys, ones I choose, to see what a whore you can be, and to watch you obeying me. I want to demonstrate how I can control you and I also want to watch you submit to another guy and be a slut in front of us." He looked almost apologetic and puzzled as if he didn't quite understand his feelings himself. I shrugged and said, "Well as long as you can stand the sight of that then I'll do it. Let's see where it takes us!" I looked at him, shrugged again and we both agreed there and then to continue to wherever 'this' was going. An hour later and Stuart was walking through the door and taking a seat. I hadn't seen him for quite a while. He turned up casually but smartly dressed, white T-shirt which he filled out well and a tight pair of blue jeans which I tried my best not to look too hard at. He still had the same 'jack the lad' look I had almost remembered him having, the only appearance change since I'd seen him last was that his hair was far more closely shaved than I'd seen before, almost a military cut. It gave him quite a manly, rugged look. The hour in between had demonstrated that each of us were very nervous. We had got through a bottle of wine and were nearly through the second by the time he had turned up. I felt a bit scruffy as Paul had instructed me to keep my current clothes on. I was only allowed to clean up but I had to put my dress back on so I was dressed as I was at the start of the evening when I was taken in the kitchen. After a few minutes of social pleasantries and a catch up, Paul wasted no time in exerting his new authority over me by 'ordering' me to fetch more drinks, more wine for Paul and I, Stuart electing for a malt whisky. I made it a generous measure, I felt he needed to be drunk too somehow! Initially, Paul gave me the 'orders' politely so as to not arouse Stuart's curiosity. On the third occasion though, he was a little less polite. He shook his empty glass and said, "more drinks Nat, run along!" Stuart said nothing but I saw the furrowed brow as he caught my eye as he watched in some puzzlement as I eagerly complied with Paul's request and fetched the drinks. I could almost see his mind working over time trying to work out what was going on and what he had stumbled into. Paul then instigated a conversation on sex lives. I guess this was his way of getting to a place where he could move things along: "So, Stewie, how's the love life, got your end away recently!?" "Bloody hell Paul, Ladies present!" said Stuart, glancing across to me with a look of surprise at Paul's boldness which was out of character for him. A little embarrassed. I blushed a little too. Paul was being deliberately provocative. "It's fine Stuart, were all adults here," I said smiling coyly, trying to reassure even though my whole being was alive with nerves as to where Paul was going to take this. Stuart looked at us both and shrugged, "Well OK then, not great on that score of late as it happens. I've only just come back from TA duty in Germany and we were practicing manoeuvres. No skirt in sight anywhere!" he said, smiling. We smiled along with him, a little nervously and awkwardly. "Ah, that's too bad," Paul said, "Only nat and I have been having something of a renaissance in the sack of late, at it like rabbits these last couple of weeks as it happens." Stuart's mouth was agape as this little statement. Mine was too, we both sat there for what seemed like an eternity in stunned silence. We had gone from polite small talk to discussing our sex life with Paul's friend in no time at all. I gulped my wine nervously, looking at Paul, and glancing sideways at Stuart. Paul though had a mischievous grin. Buoyed on by too much wine, he was on a roll and wanted to press home the advantage, "Don't be shy nat, its true we have been. As it turns out we've been playing some sex games, nat and I." Paul paused and looked Stuart, who was looking in astonishment at his friend. Paul continued, "nat, tell Stuart what we've been doing since I got in from work earlier." I glared at Paul, I looked pensively at Stuart, who had snapped his head around to face me curiously, amazed and curious in equal measure at the conversation and where it was going. I didn't know what to say: "Well, I...er...." I stumbled, embarrassed beyond words. "Come on," said Paul, "Remember the rules, I ORDER you to tell Stuart exactly what we've been doing this evening." I made full eye contact with Paul as he revealed our new relationship to Stuart for the first time. He gave me a wide eyed, imploring look as if to emphasise he really needed or wanted me to do this. I thought about how to start and what to say. I knew Paul wouldn't want me to use flowery language, this was his way of showing to Stuart how slutty his wife was and demonstrate what game we were playing so I knew I had to do it in filthy language and play along. I lowered my eyes and delivered my slut speech, "You came home and....fucked me as soon as you walked in the door. You came in, bent me over the kitchen worktop and fucked me, hard, until you came inside me. Then we had dinner and I...er...sucked your...dick, whilst you told me to play with my...er....my....pussy until I gave myself an orgasm and then you came over my face and in my mouth," I was blushing bright red but my pussy was throbbing in lust again. The pauses in my speech each time were occasioned by me looking up at Stuart and across to Paul each time I used a dirty sex word. It just felt so wrong to be telling him this, but so giddily sexy too. "Not bad," said Paul, "Could have been more detailed but not bad," said Paul smirking and glancing over to Stuart. He continued, "You see, over the last couple of weeks, we've been doing the whole Dom/sub thing. I tell her what to do, and well, she does it. No questions asked." Stuart looked back and forward at us in sheer amazement. He had known us both for years and had known us to be a run-of-the-mill, respectable, average couple. He wouldn't normally dream of talking about any of this in front of me and here we were, discussing intimate details of our sex life with him, in graphic detail. He glanced nervously at us both before looking over at me and addressing me: "And you like this? Do you enjoy being a sub?" he said, with curiosity in his voice. I blushed again, not used to having to express my desires to anyone other than Paul, "Yes, I guess I do, it seems to suit me somehow," I said, almost absent-mindedly, not really able to think straight or give a proper answer. Paul interjected again, "Come on hon, don't be coy, you don't just like it, you love it. She loves taking orders of me Stew," he said in an almost proud way. He then grasped the nettle that set us down a new path in our relationship, "In fact, she's only wearing those clothes because I chose them specifically. Nice dress eh?" he said to Stuart, as Paul had noticed him eyeing me up. Stuart looked over and looked me up and down deliberately, making me blush again, "Yeah, lovely dress," he agreed. Paul leered and grinned, "Would it surprise you to know that underneath the dress, my respectable wife is not wearing any knickers and those aren't tights, they're my favourite black seamed stockings." Stuart looked at me again and I cringed. In the contradictions of my thoughts and emotions though, my cringe was accompanied by a deep twinge between my legs. Paul was teasing the hell out of me, where was he going with this I wondered? I'm sure Stuart was wondering exactly the same. Perhaps he had now caught on a little more because he said, "Really, are you serious?" Paul smiled at him, and then at me before delivering a line that I will never forget, "Stand up slut, walk over to Stuart, lift your dress up and show him your cunt." My first reaction was to look at Stuart. He was wide-eyed and amazed at this. He quickly looked over to me to gauge my response. What he probably saw was my face turning a deep crimson. He probably didn't notice my heart pounding inside me, my pulse racing, my hands clammy as a cold streak of nervous heat ran through my body. I looked at both Paul and Stuart nervously. My first instinct was to run upstairs, I couldn't possibly do this! My second thought was that I knew I so wanted to do this, purely on a sexual fantasy level, I couldn't have picked a scenario that would turn me on more, my husband ordering me to expose myself to one of his friends for their amusement, followed by who knows what. You all know which thought process won out, right? I stood up slowly, I swear I thought I was going to fall over onto the floor. The wine didn't help I'm sure but it was more the total head fuck of what I was about to do. I took it step by step, (it was only three steps!) until I was directly in front of Stuart. I looked him in the eye, checked sideways for final confirmation with Paul. He nodded encouragingly, almost like he was desperate and he couldn't wait. There was nothing else for it, I tentatively grabbed the hem of my dress with both hands and lifted it the few inches over my waist. As my reveal was in progress, I saw Stuart's eyes keenly following the progress of the hem until his face, looking like a child on Christmas morning, lit up as my damp and throbbing pussy came into his full view, in betwixt my slut stockings. He whistled beneath his breath. "Wow, your wife has one nice bush!" Stuart exclaimed. Paul laughed raucously, probably letting out a little of the tension that had built up in the room. I motioned to return my dress to a more respectable position but Paul had different ideas. "If you like it so much, have a feel, see how wet she is!" Paul said, almost casually to Stuart. Stuart looked amazed and delighted all at the same time, "Really, you're OK with that?" he asked Paul (not me I noted!). Paul responded with a flourishing and almost indifferent wave of his arm as if to say, 'help yourself.' Stuart wasted no time, he formed his hand to a fist and pressed it between my legs to make me spread my legs a little. I did so immediately, already wincing in embarrassment and some shame as I obviously knew only too well how wet I was, I was literally dripping in excitement and there was no way to hide it. "Christ mate," Stuart said, as he pressed his fingers roughly across and into my slit, "She's soaked, she really is a slut, she's loving this!" His face beamed in enjoyment, I'm sure he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Turning up for what I expect he thought was a routine catch up with his friend, he was now inspecting and sampling his friend's wife's pussy whilst she obligingly held her dress up over her waist for him. "I told you mate, she gets off on this treatment, she loves it and it's great for me. What bloke doesn't want a gorgeous girl at his beck and call all the time!" Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 03 As I humiliatingly retained my pose standing in front of Stuart, holding my dress up for him to be able to toy with my pussy the guys chatted almost casually: "You're a very lucky guy!" Stuart said. "I invited you over here so you could share the wealth!" Paul said, grinning from ear to ear. "Share the wealth, how do you mean....?" Stuart said, probably guessing the answer but not yet daring to believe it. "Well, you can join the game for a while. As long as you stick to my rules, I'll let you sample my wife's lovely delights. How does that sound?" "Are you serious? It sounds fucking awesome!" Stuart said, now concentrating intently on watching his index finger as he slid it in and out of me, "I've always wanted to fuck your wife, mate!" He looked across at Paul quickly and realised that maybe he shouldn't have said that, "Sorry Paul, I mean what guy wouldn't...." Paul waved his hand at him, "Oh, don't worry about it, it's a compliment, I expect most guys want to fuck her. However, I'm not going to let you fuck her." "Oh," said Stuart, seemingly crestfallen, "What, then...?" "I'm going to tell her to suck your dick, is that OK?" Stuart had that similar expression of before, the cat that had got the cream, "OK!? Fucking right it's OK, thanks mate!" he said, as if Paul had just agreed to lend him a tenner or something. "On your knees nat, you're going to suck my friend's cock now," Paul said matter-of-factly, delivering his instruction seemingly impassively and without emotion. I knew this was a long held fantasy of his, I think he was playing it cool, in his role as controlling master of ceremonies but I knew inside he was an erotic mess of desire and lust just like I was right then. My emotions right then are near impossible to describe. The one immediate thing I remember is the disappointment that dropping to my knees simply meant the fingers working my pussy and clit were temporarily lost to me. I wasn't far off coming through the manual stimulation and through being talked about and 'decided about' between the two guys. They hadn't even thought to ask me. By then though, I was already on my knees, the assumption Paul had made was right. No need to ask, you want your friend's cock in my mouth, so be it. It seemed like the dynamic in the room had completely changed as soon as I dropped to my knees. It was a visible act of submission and compliance on my part and Stuart seemed to take control: He stood upright and loomed over me, satisfied now that I was fully compliant in the now inevitable cock sucking. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down around his ankles. I noticed the large bulge in his boxers and already looked forward to seeing it spring out ready for my ministrations. "Who'd have thought it," Stuart said, looking at me, "Prim and proper nat is a cock sucking slut is she?" I looked over to Paul to see if he would object to him talking about me in that way. He didn't, in fact, his posture and expression demonstrated that he was completely turned on. My emotions as I sat there were complex. Sure I was turned on, but I was also somehow angry with Paul that he was happy to see his wife about to be dominated by his friend. It made me even more submissive; if that's what he wants to see I thought, then I'm sure as hell going to let him see it. I knew then with my thoughts, and with Paul's acquiescence, that I was definitely about to suck his dick. I found the scenario intoxicating. "We'll nat, are you? Are you a cock sucking whore?" Stuart said, looking down at me, "You definitely look like one." As he said this, he leant over, slid his hand down inside my dress and rolled my hardened nipple between his fingers, he was rough and he hurt me slightly, evidenced by my gasp. He looked at me indicating he required a response. "Yes Stuart, I am a cock sucking whore." I said, blushing in indignation and a little shame but looking firmly into his eyes as I said it, feeling that strange surge of combined shame and pride at revealing my true self. Just the words turned me on because I had delivered them confidently as if to say, here I am on my knees, about to suck your cock and I'm doing so because I'm a slut and a whore, and because my husband told me to. Fill my mouth with cock, it's what I want. I will show you both how good I can suck this dick and how much I'll enjoy doing it. Stuart smiled broadly at this. Without further warning, he pulled his boxers down allowing his cock to spring out of them. My eyes widened, it was a gorgeous, thick, meaty prick and he was so hard. A similar length to Paul's I thought, but much thicker. Stuart laughed audibly at my reaction as my face betrayed my obvious lust for the hard dick in front of me. I also looked in lust at his balls, they were magnificent, they seemed freakishly large and full, hanging low beneath his horizontal prick. Without even thinking, I reached out and fondled them, almost in a trance as I forgot myself and let them hang in my hand. "Do you want to suck my dick nat? I somehow think you do. I think you've wanted it for years?" Stuart said, delighting in this new found power. He was wrong, I'd never before harboured any wish to do anything like this with him, it had never even really occurred to me but I did now, I really did want to suck his dick. All three of us present in the room knew I wanted to, and knew I was about to. I looked one last time at Paul to make sure he was definitely OK with this. I was amazed at what I saw, he was sat on the chair behind me with his trousers around his ankles, stroking his cock. I didn't need any further answer, clearly he'd set this up and this is what he wanted to see and I promised to do everything he asked tonight. I leant in and went straight for the main prize. I wanted to demonstrate exactly how slutty I was so I looked Stuart directly in the eyes, opened my mouth wide, no hands, and simply sank my lips and mouth over his shaft. Enveloping most of the head of his cock in one swoop, I held him in my mouth before rolling my tongue as much as I could across the head and slit of this dick. With my hands, I then grabbed the base of his cock in my right hand, pulled the foreskin firmly back and slid my tongue up and down the length of his shaft before popping the head back into my greedy mouth. I was sucking and licking with abandon, my actions causing squelching and sucking noises to fill the room as I sucked the dick of my husband's friend while he watched. Every so often, I would slide my mouth down and down some more over his thick rod until I felt the head of his dick nudging and moving past my throat. Given instruction by my husband to suck his friend's dick, I was determined to do a good job. I had temporarily forgotten about Paul but that changed all of a sudden. I felt his hands grab the hem of my dress and pull it up so I felt the hot air on my now exposed arse. The guys did a little teamwork. Paul pulled my dress up, Stuart undid it at the back and pulled it clean off me, over my head. This complete, Paul simply knelt behind me, grabbed his dick and guided it inside my all too eager cunt, causing me to lurch even further over Stuart's shaft as it invaded my mouth. I revelled in this, not least the pure physical sensation but because Paul was participating. An aspect of this I had worried about was Paul just being a passive voyeur, I wasn't sure I wanted that. But this, taken by my hubby AND his friend, this I could enjoy. Paul gave me a couple of hard strokes of his cock before giving me another order, "Show Stewie your tits, he hasn't had a proper look at them yet!" I groaned in some frustration, I had already started to enjoy, for the first time in my life, the feeling of two cocks inside me. Out of frustration, I practically spat Stuart's dick out of my mouth and leant up towards him, theatrically putting my hands behind my head so my heavy tits stood out proudly for his viewing pleasure. Stuart greedily surveyed each one in turn and marvelled as they shook as Paul continued to slip me one from behind. He cupped and mauled my tits for a few seconds before indicating he was content, pushing me back onto all fours, and holding his cock out again for me to suck. For the next few minutes, I was in total heaven. Paul fucked me hard from behind and speared me onto Stuart's cock. The room was filled with the wet, dirty sounds of both cocks pounding me. I was completely grateful to Paul who on this occasion, was conscious of my own needs. In between his fucking of me, he reached around and rubbed my clit in long, rapid strokes. Almost as soon as he started doing this, my whole body was filled with glowing excitement. I lost all focus on the cocks inside me, I was just a passenger as an orgasm ripped across me. It was intense and all encompassing, the whole world seemed to stop and I only vaguely heard the two guys surrounding me either saying something to each other or laughing, I couldn't tell which. I think it was because they were impressed by the power of my orgasm and my reaction to it as it confirmed to them exactly how much I was enjoying being taken like a slut. From what I can remember, the guys left me alone for the few seconds during my orgasm. I was snapped back out of my other-worldly bliss by Stuart who starting thrusting his cock back into my face impatiently and I switched back on to the scenario as I also felt Paul's cock hammering into my pussy. "Here it comes again!" Paul shouted, as he gripped my shoulders tightly, pushing my cunt hard around his shaft as, for the second time today he blasted his hot come inside his wife's pussy. As I took the load and delighted in feeling Paul's cock twitch violently inside me, I looked up in some admiration at Stuart, who had out-lasted my husband despite the fact that (to my knowledge) he hadn't previously come twice that day already. As I looked up though, I could see in Stuart's eyes that faraway look of a man who is about to come. "Mouth or face, where do you want it?" Stuart called out. I looked up at him to answer but I realised he was asking Paul, not me!" "Make it messy, come all over my wife's slutty face!" Paul called out from behind me. If I could have done so I would have smiled as that's the option I would have gone for if I'd have been given the choice. I loved taking a come shot over my face and all the better that it was Paul's friend doing the coming. Stuart did just that, he pulled his cock from my mouth, looked down at me, tossed his cock quickly two or three times and groaned loudly as jets of spunk flew out of his cock and sprayed all over me. The first jet flew out so fast that it landed in my hair somewhere, the second, third and fourth, all coating my eyes and nose. As the liquid assault abated and he stopped blasting come all over me, Stuart placed the head of his fat prick over my lips. I slid my tongue all over the head and the slit before taking it back in my mouth and sucking it dry. As I finished, Stuart pulled his cock away and pulled his pants up. Paul had done the same. I opened my eyes tentatively, knowing I had Stuart's sperm all over my eyes and face. I could see both guys in front of me, taking in the sight of a well fucked slut, wearing only heels and stockings, come dripping from her face and pussy. I smiled to them almost in triumph that I had managed it. Paul smiled back, seemingly proud of his whore wife and what she'd just done and looked to Stuart. They exchanged a high five and laughed together in triumph. "Go and get yourself cleaned up," Paul said, "Your slut duties have finished for tonight, but now we need a serving wench. A naked serving wench, that is. I don't want to see a stitch of clothing on you when you come down, those stockings have got spunk all over them!" I looked at both guys, smiled a little coyly, and walked away and upstairs. I undressed, took a quick shower and stark naked, went back down to perform as a naked serving maid. This was turning out to be quite a night! Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 04 The events of the previous week (as described in Part 3) had definitely changed the dynamic in our marriage. I was increasingly viewed as subservient to Paul and he took full advantage as I had actually wanted him to do. He has always been lazy around the house and now I had given him full permission to be so as he ordered me around to do his bidding. Each order was received by me with a shiver of excitement as I humbly and dutifully became the homely slut wife for him. If truth be known, with my own perhaps warped internal logic, I'd never been happier. Sexually it was a similar story, a week had passed since the events with Paul and his friend, Stuart and on two occasions that week, Paul had come in from work, pushed me to my knees and without even a word to me, had pulled his dick out in the hall or the kitchen and stuffed it in my mouth. On each occasion, he would fuck my mouth, gently but firmly, come hard inside me, and simply pull out and go upstairs to freshen up leaving me with sperm dribbling down my mouth and a meal to prepare for my 'master'. We hadn't discussed a great deal about the events with Stuart. I felt this was partly to do with the fact that we didn't quite want to articulate all of the things it was bringing out in us just yet but it was also partly I think a reflection of the new 'social order' in our house -- I was to do Paul's bidding and no discussion was required. Last Friday I had been humiliated and had sucked off my husband's friend in front of him, that was what I had been asked to do and so I had done it. We moved on and thought no more about it. Following the days described above, the weekend soon came around again. On the Thursday evening, an occasion which had started without Paul demanding a kitchen cock sucking, he looked up from reading and said, "Ready for some more fun this weekend?" He left the question hanging, with almost a mischievous glint in the air around it. I shrugged, "Sure, but what sort of fun?" "Well, perhaps it's time to broaden our horizons..." Again, a mischievous pause to search out my reaction. "Err, well, in what way?" I said, becoming a little irritable as I'm prone to so doing when he acts all mysterious and teasing like this. "Another woman!" He exclaimed simply. A number of thoughts ran through my head, I started to form questions, I had so many. We had barely started out on this road of slut wife and this was going very fast all of a sudden. Another woman probably meant I was allowing Paul to fuck another woman. I guess I had no grounds to morally refuse after the two guys that I had blown in the preceding weeks. I also knew if I'd agree to something now, then as a slut in the relationship, I was also agreeing to relinquish any control over what would happen with this other woman. My curiosity was also piqued -- who was she? "Who is she..!?" was the first question I could extract from the morass of my thoughts. "Ah no, you don't get any details my slut wife!" Paul said, as if to remind me of my chosen place in the hierarchy. "You do as I say remember, although on this occasion, as this is something new, I will ask for your consent. I have arranged, provisionally, for a woman to visit us tomorrow evening. She may be accompanied by her partner. If you agree to participate, you will be required to be the dutiful slut for us all and do exactly as we tell you. Those rules will be in place from the moment she arrives at our house to the moment she leaves." Paul studied my face and body language. I hadn't much time to process the information or what he was asking but as expected, the thought of what he was proposing was intoxicating to me and I was light headed just at the thought. My stomach, my loins and my pussy were a tingly knot of excitement. I made the mouth shape that you do to speak without quite knowing what to say. Paul stood from the chair imposingly, a look of amusement on his face as he probably saw the interest and acceptance of the proposal written all over my face and body. He continued; "To accept the deal, you have to drop to your knees like the slut you've become and suck my prick until I fill your mouth with cum. Swallow it all and I'll take that as permission granted." With that, he unbuckled his belt forcefully (for dramatic effect) and yanked his trousers and pants to the floor. I took a sharp intake of breath as his rigid cock bounced out of his pants, almost slapped against his stomach and settled horizontally in the air, pointing lewdly at me for attention. I was so turned on I could feel my knickers moisten and juices pouring out of me. How degenerate I must have looked as I hardly even hesitated, I practically slid across the floor to him, mouth open in readiness as I dropped to my knees yet again before my husband and master! I reached my hand towards his stiff prick to draw it into my mouth but he swatted it away. "No hands!" he ordered, looking down at his wife, on her knees before him ready to swallow his cock. "I want you to use your mouth only. Work hard to earn the domination that you're going to be on the other end of tomorrow. Show me it's what you want. As you suck, with your mouth full, keep your eyes on me. Show me what a whore you are!" Before he permitted me to suck him off, he reached down to my top, harshly opened it up and thrust my bra down so my tits flopped out in front of him. He gave a satisfied murmur as he viewed my tits and fondled them quickly. I was intensely turned on at this point, Paul was being amazing, he seemed to now know all of the things that pushed my buttons over the edge of sanity. He knew at that point, I would do anything he wanted. He has me wherever he wanted me and I loved that fact, he was completing his total conquest of me and I was enjoying every minute. Right now, I was just feeling the head of his dick pressing my tongue aside inside my mouth as his rock hard nob filed my mouth with a hot intensity. I quickly choked down on his throbbing pole, feeling instantly inside my mouth, how turned on he was by the scenario and by my easy acquiescence. I forced the pole as far down my throat as I could, then pulled my head slowly back from it so it slid back out of my mouth. As I was unable to use my hands, which were hanging limply at my side, I didn't want to let his cock slip out my mouth so on each backward slide of my mouth over his pole, I got as far down as the head of his cock, before impaling myself again. As I built up a nice cock-sucking rhythm, reflecting on the fact that since the start of my slut wife adventure, I had probably sucked more cock in a month than I had in the previous ten years, Paul began to talk to me about tomorrow; "That's right Natalie, you filthy cocksucker, look how keen you are to earn what's coming to you tomorrow!" "Just think, another woman is going to be ordering you around as two men watch. I expect I'm going to see your face buried in another woman's cunt tomorrow. Does that sound hot to you?" "......and her man too. She'll let him have his way with you too I bet. I'm not going to stop him, if you're happy to be degraded in front of me, then why should I stop it?" "Mnnpff.....perhaps he and I will both fuck you together. Spit roast I think they call it. While she watches your debasement..." Through all of this, it seemed that he was shouting out the humiliations in time with his cock pressing down my throat. As instructed I maintained eye contact at all times with him and could see the lust and pleasure in his eyes as he took in the porno sight of several inches of thick pulsing cock meat disappear inside his wife's mouth and her chin glisten with the juices of it all. Of course I couldn't respond to what he was saying, just moan in agreement at what he said. My thoughts were a mad swirl of erotic mess but everything he was saying I found deliciously erotic and fascinating -- I really did want to be controlled and humiliated by this woman, I definitely did want Paul to watch it happen and to participate. As I kept up my increasingly frantic work on his dick, I even reflected that I hoped Paul would fuck her while I was made to watch. In a more sober environment, I may reflect on what I was becoming, but now, I had a task to perform. The cock was almost sucked, I had to extract my sticky prize and swallow it lovingly for my hubby in order to qualify for tomorrow's humiliations. Of a sudden, Paul pulled his cock out my mouth and started to stroke it over my face; "Pull your tongue out!" he part barked and part groaned. I did quickly and not a minute too soon. His hand was a blur over the shaft of his cock and he thrust his foreskin sharply back one last time, I saw a huge glob of come jettison against my face, covering my nose. I held the instinct to move away and held my place as Paul improved his aim. The next jet landed in a long string across my lips and tongue, followed by the rest which he directed into my mouth. I could feel the salty goo start to collect in my mouth. Paul instructed me to collect it on my tongue and hold it out for him to see. I did so as quickly as I could, being careful trying not to spill any. Paul surprised me again by pulling his mobile phone out quickly. He took a photo of me on my knees, my sperm filled tongue coated and sticking out of my mouth. He ordered me to swallow so I did, feeling the salty goo ooze down my throat. I found it somewhat distasteful, I have never liked the taste or the texture of sperm but such is the lot of the dirty slut and I was getting more and more used to it. For some reason, Paul ordered me to present my tongue to him again to confirm my obedience at swallowing his load. That done, he took another photo of me with my tongue now clean and put his phone back down on the arm of the chair. I was hoping that Paul would look after my needs as I was so hopelessly turned on I could come in seconds but he simply told me to get cleaned up and we continued with our evening. FRIDAY As was customary for such events now, I had been instructed to take a day off work some time before today by Paul, I just didn't know why until now. Paul himself went to work as normal on the Friday and I concentrated on getting the place cleaned up and getting ready for whatever was to happen tonight. I felt sick with nerves and almost phoned Paul several times over cancelling the whole thing. On three occasions, I got as far as bringing his number up on my phone but each time I put the phone down and continued my tidying. I was utterly turned on all day and had to use cleaning and mundane stuff to take my mind off the throb in my pussy and the panicky hunger in my tummy. About 2pm the instructions from Paul started to come through on text. I had to prepare some snack food for 'nibbles' as we weren't having dinner (at least he said worryingly, "not in the conventional sense"). The next one was the now usual dress instructions. I was to wear bedroom attire only. My sheer black bra and panties, black seamed stockings and just my silk dressing gown over them and I should answer the door like this when required. I was ready at about 3pm even though I knew it would be hours before Paul was home and probably a little longer still before our guests. I wasn't sure what to do, dressed as I was ready for my slut duties in the afternoon. I reflected on what I was doing, dressed in stupidly slutty knickers and stockings, about to allow my husband, some woman as yet unknown, and her husband, to do whatever they wanted to me. A far cry from my usual existence as a confident in control business woman yes, but then also a far cry from the dull suburban housewife I had become. I absent-mindedly watched TV and despite it being early, poured myself a glass of wine to calm my nerves which I still thought would get the better of me. Around about 5.30, I was disturbed from my nervous contemplations by the doorbell. A wave of fear swept through me. For one thing, I didn't know who it was. Should I answer the door in my dressing gown? If it's Paul, why has he used the doorbell when he has a key? I decided to answer it making sure he was covered up. Nervously opening the door, I was greeted by an alarming sight. There was Paul yes but who was he with? Only Fiona, my neighbour and sort of friend/peer enemy and estranged wife of Paul's friend Stuart, accompanied by what must have been her new guy, a quite young looking bloke, about 6 foot with handsome features and short closely cropped black hair and jet black eyes. The three of them had strange expressions as I felt the opening of the door being accompanied by the hot blush of embarrassment on my cheeks. I never in my wildest imaginings even considered that the 'woman' Paul mentioned would be someone I knew, let alone one who I had known as a neighbour for years. Fiona was what you would call a 'sort of friend'. We played the game of being friendly neighbours but in reality it was probably more a peer rivalry. I distinctly knew that she was envious of my business success and my perfectly ordered world, my material wealth and my equally successful and handsome husband. She had a failed marriage, difficult times financially and I had always felt, something of a chip on her shoulder when it came to me. In our silly bourgeois world, our petty jealousies would manifest themselves in the past when holding Christmas parties and charity events -- mine were always well liked and popular, hers almost always a damp squib. My world seemed successful and ordered, hers a mess. For what seemed like an eternity, I glared at them all not knowing what do. Paul had a quizzical look on his face. He knew of the peer rivalry between Fiona and I and was probably intrigued as to how I would react. Fiona herself, obviously now aware of my desire for slutdom, looked already like the cat that had got the cream, as if all her wishes had come true and she was going to enjoy every minute of whatever she had in store for me and her guy, who just looked plain nervous. I assume he knew what might happen tonight, but didn't quite know whether to be looking forward to it or dreading it. Paul broke the weird stalemate by motioning me backwards into the hall. As he strode past me he handed me his jacket. This was followed by Fiona who handed me her coat and likewise her guy who passed me his coat also. First humiliation of the day I thought (apart from opening the door to Fiona!) being used as a door attendant for hubby and his guests. I quickly hung their coats up and followed them into the lounge where they had all seated themselves. Already odd behaviour as they were all looking at me. They had obviously already hatched some plan, or chatted previously as I would have expected Paul to be busying himself getting our guests a drink. Paul however looked up at me from his seat: "Come on Natalie, don't keep our guests waiting, fetch us all a drink, be a good girl now!" he said, enjoying my humiliation already. I saw Fiona giggle into her hand a little at the way Paul talked to me and whisper something to her guy. This was the last opportunity to pull out of this I thought. If I turn around now without complaint and do as he says, I'm here for the duration. At this point, I can still easily turn things around, tell him to get his own drinks and tell everyone it's all been a silly joke on Paul's part. As you've guessed though, I smiled, turned around and headed for the kitchen to fetch the drinks! I brought the drinks in and joined them, sitting in between Paul and Fiona on one of the armchairs. Half an hour or so of small talk ensued. I learned that Fiona's guy was her new boyfriend, Tom. They had only been going out for a few weeks. That fact surprised me. They both knew why they were here and it seemed somewhat premature to be in effect 'swinging' after only going out for a little while but in the nervous tension of the situation I let it pass. I could barely concentrate on the small talk, Fiona had been looking for work still since her break up with Stuart and was struggling financially still. To be honest, it was impossible for me to concentrate. Paul had a well-established technique already of switching from the mundane to the porno in a matter of seconds. I kept thinking that while we were talking about the weather one minute, it could at any time be a matter of seconds before I'm showing my pussy to Fiona while deep throating Tom! I already felt self-conscious. The two guys had smart shirts and pants on, Fiona was in a neat skirt and blouse, I was pulling my gown over my stockings trying not to expose myself too much. As they talked I couldn't concentrate so I watched them. Fiona was an attractive woman. In her mid to late thirties, she had cool blue languid eyes, a rounded feminine face with a fresh complexion. Her hair was in a blonde bob, cut shoulder length. She had a nice figure, she was in good shape and had a curvy, girly body, lithe and cute. Snapped out of my reverie by someone talking to me, I learned also how this whole thing had come about. Paul and Stuart had ran into Fiona in a pub when she was out with a couple of friends and after a few more drinks, Stuart had let slip my cock sucking exploits that I relayed to you all in chapter 3. He shouldn't have said anything about it and Paul had told him so but he was keen to make Fiona jealous apparently. Fiona didn't believe them at first but after pressing him, Paul said it was true and told her all about the 'slut wife' thing and apparently, Fiona told him she had some experience in that area, although she never told me what that was exactly. Somehow they cooked up a plan after another couple of chats to set this night up, so here we all were. A couple of drinks later (all dutifully fetched and carried by me), the talk turned to the erotic. Paul enjoyed these moments as he was determined to humiliate me, gently at first, in front of Fiona in particular. "So Nat, tell Fiona and Tom how you agreed to this? What did you do to seal the deal?" Of course I knew what he wanted me to say and Fiona probably already knew. She sat upright looking at me, a mischievous look of amusement on her face as she prepared herself for the start of the entertainment. I blushed but didn't answer. Paul asked again, a tone of warning and disapproval in his voice that said in subtext, don't disappoint or disobey me in front of our guests; "Natalie -- tell them. What did you do to agree to this?" I looked around already blushing from face to face looking for a way out. There was none. "I...I got on my knees and sucked your cock....and then...swallowed....it..." I said, barely getting the words out, hardly daring to look up from the floor as I said it. Fiona clapped her hands together in amusement. Tom laughed and smiled at her. Paul looked relieved and pleased with my compliance. "That's right my dirty slut wife! You slid to your knees, sucked my dick and I coated your tongue with come, which I then ordered you to swallow. In fact, why don't you show our guests the proof, just so they know that you want what's about to happen to you." With that, and despite my cheeks burning in embarrassment, he handed me his phone which as I already knew it would, had the pictures of me from the day before, tongue out, on my knees, cum all over my face and then my empty tongue having swallowed my husband's jizz. I looked at him pleadingly, but it was too late. I knew this was going to happen now so I might as well get on with it. I stood up, looked at my cum-covered face on the phone and walked over, presenting it to Fiona. She took it from me keenly; the self-satisfied smug grin almost permanently etched on her face already, and looked at it. Her eyes opened wide in what was probably mock amazement for my discomfort before passing it back to me and telling me to show Tom too. I did so; he looked at it in fascination before returning the phone to me. Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 04 "Who would have thought my good friend Natalie, my prim and proper lady friend, was all the time a dirty slut?" said Fiona, a look of cruel amusement across her face. Armed with the information already gleaned this evening and her previous chats with Paul, I knew for certain that she was going to take full advantage of this and humiliate me in front of the two guys. My face and body burned in shame at the thought but I felt that delicious head swim of submission. In that moment as she looked at me calmly, I wanted to revel in it myself. Please, Fiona, master me and show me who the dominant female is, humiliate me in front of Tom and in front of my husband, make me show you all what I am and what I'm learning to become. "Stand up straight, you dirty slut!" she said suddenly, seemingly sensing my desire to be dominated and looking at me with a mixture of desire and contempt. I locked my eyes onto hers and complied wordlessly, moving into the centre of the room so all three could see me easily. "Now, turn around and lift up your gown. I want the guys to see what's on offer!" she barked. I did so, my head in a fog, my cheeks burning in shame. Of course, Paul was fine, he'd seen me naked a thousand times but doing this in front of Fiona? My 'friend' of several years, my suburban, 'keeping up with the Joneses rival' and Tom, a guy who I'd never met before. As I bent over, I struggled to keep my balance and my whole body shivered in lust and fear. I could barely believe I was complying with her but her words seemed to call to a place inside me and I wanted to obey. A chorus of heavy breaths and giggles greeted me as I lifted the gown over my waist and bent over, my flimsy black lace knickers all that stood in the way of the three of them viewing my already sopping cunt. "Mmm, black lace, you really are a dirty whore aren't you?" Fiona said, revelling in being the centre of attention and having a plaything to enjoy. I felt after our years of neighbourly rivalry, she was going to enjoy every minute of my self-endorsed fall from grace. "We're not going to let you off easily though you dirty bitch," she said as she stood up near me, "It's all very well being a slut and saying you're one but we all have to see you earn the punishment we are going to give out to you tonight. You have to want it, show us all you want it." I looked at her slightly confused, what was I supposed to do I thought? She answered me soon enough: "If you want to be treated like the whore you are, pull your knickers down and ask us to do so. If you do this in front of me, Tom and your husband, you give us permission to use you as we see fit all night. Pull your panties down and show the guys your cunt and then we'll all know what a dirty cock sucking tramp you are" I looked up to Fiona and met a steely gaze. She waited for her answer as I stood there bent over, my gown over my waist. I was breathless and totally intoxicated by the scenario. Right then and for once, there was a single clarity in my mind. I had previously seen Fiona as a friend and peer rival, as someone to compete with in the 'best neighbour' stakes, now, I wanted to be her bitch and do whatever she told me. I wanted her to lead me into a form of depravity. I purposely locked my gaze on her, woman to woman, and leant back and gripped the waistband of my knickers, sliding them to the floor, around my ankles. "Mmm, I knew it, you dirty bitch. All this time I looked up to you! Successful business woman! But now look at you. I've only been in here for half an hour and you're bent over with your knickers around your ankles and your cunt on display to a guy you've only just met. Tramp!" With that, Fiona brought her hand down firmly against my arse, causing me to almost fall forward. She laughed with a little contempt as she saw a thrill of excitement pass through my body. She grabbed hold of my dressing gown which I was still wearing and used it to pull me towards the sofa where she had been sitting: "What do you think Paul, would you like to see your wife getting her arse spanked by another woman?" she asked. "Fuck yes, I would Fi. Bend her over and give her what she deserves," Paul said quickly. I already felt so much humiliation and embarrassment but this seemed to be even worse. My husband and her 'ganging up' on me to decide how best to punish and humiliate me. Fiona dragged me to the sofa and sat down, still fully clothed herself in a white blouse and a knee length blue skirt. She looked up at me: "Take off your gown and your bra, slowly. I want Tom here to get a good look at those tits. Then when you've done that, lie across my knee, facing Tom. He can look at your face while you receive your punishment for being such a cheap slut, while your husband can get a good look at your arse reddening against my hand." I had to admit she was VERY good at this. She assumed a manner of complete control and authority in a matter of minutes and my submissive head was totally in a subservient 'yes Miss' mood. I practically threw off my gown and only Fiona shouting "SLOWLY" at me caused me to slowly draw my hands behind me to unclasp my black lace bra. I slid the bra off and onto the floor, breathing heavily as my heavy boobs fell into their usual un-clasped position. "Put your hair back and put your hands behind your head. I want Tom to get a good look at those tits," instructed Fiona. I did, feeling a sense of burning shame, now openly bearing all for a stranger again, standing as I was, in front of him now wearing only black stockings and heels. I barely had time to think however, as Fiona motioned for me to lie across her. I did so. It was uncomfortable but bizarrely, my only concern initially was the embarrassed thought that my pussy was going to leak onto her skirt. I could do nothing about that though as Fiona quickly moulded me into the right position on her lap. In the few moments before it began, I shook my head internally in amazement at what was happening. Here you are girl, arse and tits hanging out for all to see, draped over a neighbour's knee, about to be spanked bare arsed in front of your husband and a guy I'd never met before! The swimming of my head, the knot in my stomach and the throbbing of my cunt told me this was exactly where I wanted to be. "Now slut, you need to listen to what I tell you. This spanking is just a prelude, a demonstration for us all if you will, that in this room here and now, you are our bitch and you do what we tell you instantly and without complaint. I am going to ask you questions as I spank you and you will answer them to receive your spank. Is that clear?" "Yes....Fiona...that's clear..." I said, looking over and up to Tom who was sitting so close to us that my head was only an inch or two from his legs. I could see he had a big bulge in his pants and reflected with some certainly that the bulge would be inside me fairly soon. Not an unpleasant thought though I must admit! "Good slut, so we will begin, now hold still for the initial spank," As she said this she brought her hand down against my bare arse and a fleshy slap rang around as I felt the sting of her palm on my arse. The spank was not hard, just enough to make an impression! "Now first question, do you agree to call me Miss whenever you answer me." "Yes..Miss..." I said with some certainty. After that, each question and answer was followed by a further spank: "Are you a dirty slut." "Yes Miss, I am." SPANK. "Did you suck Stuart's cock last week just because Paul told you to?" "Yes Miss....yes I did..." SPANK. "Are you going to suck Tom's cock tonight?" "Yes Miss, yes, if you tell me to, I answered, not sure if I should have said yes or not. SPANK. "Are you going to eat my pussy tonight slut?" "Yes Miss, if you allow it....." I said. SPANK. "Just the right answer good girl. Will you be getting arse fucked by Paul and Tom tonight?" I had to think of the correct response, "I hope so Miss!" I said, and blushed crimson as all three of them laughed in unison at my reply. SPANK. "You won't be disappointed then slut," Fiona said. "And finally, are you a cheap, dirty whore who needs to be used and abused by the three of us, will you show us all tonight what a filthy, dirty, cheap and easy slut you are?" "Yes Miss, I want to...I want to be used, please use and abuse me, humiliate me and show me you are the stronger woman, I want to please you!" SPANK. I said more than I wanted but the spanks and the slut talk had finished me off. I was putty in her hands as my arse started to sting hotly. I was ready to be used and everyone there knew it. The spanking seemed just right and appropriate and well timed. It had set the scene from the mundane situation of peers chatting to where we were now. Fiona had conquered me easily in front of the two guys and I had readily accepted her role as the dominant female and now craved to be used by her. Fiona pushed me off her knee and I knelt on the floor. She stood up and patted her skirt down. I think she noticed the dampness on her skirt from my pussy but didn't comment. Instead, she looked at me and said, "Good. Now we know the order of things, let's have some fun with our new toy. First though, I'm going to suck your husband's cock in front of you!" I looked over at Paul, who looked surprised himself. I knew that this would probably happen but it was still a shock that after so long together for the first time I was about to see my husband in a sex act with another woman. I realised instinctively that Fiona was doing this right now to demonstrate to me and the guys that the hierarchy had already changed. There were three equals in the room, and one slut. I had no say. She had neither sought nor received my permission, simply told me what was happening. To emphasise her dominance however, she ensured I was involved and complicit. She beckoned me over. She already had Paul's trousers down and between them both, they had kicked them onto the floor. As I got there he was sitting on the chair in just his boxers, tented erotically at what he had already seen. "Kneel between us slut," Fiona said, "You're going to willingly give your hubby to me to enjoy and I'm going to make you watch. Fish his cock out of his pants and put it in my mouth." As she said this, she leant her head into his crotch. I quickly obeyed; I slid his pants to his knees to see his cock bob out. Fiona just said, "Oh my!" as it rested on her cheek. I grabbed hold of the thick shaft in my hand, drawing the foreskin back slowly, I wanted so much to suck it myself but instead, I had to direct it to my right and allow Fiona to draw her mouth over it. As she quickly closed her mouth over my hubby's cock, he held her head, groaned contentedly and settled back into his chair to enjoy his blow job. I felt a horrible pang of jealousy and humiliation as I took in the erotic site of her red lipstick lips slide over his hard shaft slowly, her blonde bobbed hair trailing over his balls and his stomach. Demoted to just an onlooker as Fiona knelt between my husband's legs and appreciatively and attentively slurped on his thick prick, the loud slurps and squelches filling the room. She paused only once to turn towards me to check I was watching closely and with Paul's cock in her hand, her red polished long fingernails gripping his shaft keenly, she said, "Mmm, tastes lovely, I've wanted your husband's cock in my mouth for years!" before slamming back down over his dick. I knew instinctively Paul wouldn't last long, he was so turned on already that he was probably close to coming in his pants earlier on and now he'd just had his wife pull his cock out his pants for another woman to suck. He leaned forward as much as he could in his chair and started to buck his hips trying to fuck Fiona's mouth. She practically rode the wave of his thrusts underneath her before he tensed up and, with Fiona clamped to his cock, shot his load into her mouth before slumping into the chair. I thought from Fiona's appreciative murmuring and her contended cooing that she was draining his balls and swallowing the lot but she scrambled up off him and in one movement leaned in to me and kissed my lips. She pressed my mouth open quickly with her tongue and I immediately felt the warm rush of my husband's sperm flooding into my mouth from Fiona's. As she deposited it all in my mouth, she drew her hand up to my mouth to close it and ordered me to swallow. Looking straight into her eyes, I gulped the fluid down and she smiled approvingly at me. Fiona stood up and rubbed her hands together as if to say, 'job done'. She looked at me and addressing no-one in particular said, "Well that's the slut humiliated, the hubby sucked off, now I think it's time for some fun for me and my man!" As she finished her little speech, she ordered me to run into the kitchen to fetch some drinks and nibbles. I did so and as I returned I saw that Tom joined her in the middle of the room. They kissed deeply and then started to undress each other. I found myself enjoying the sight and enjoy Tom's emerging nakedness in particular. He had already got Fiona's blouse and bra off and his hands were pushing her skirt over her hips. For her part, she'd got his top off to reveal a gorgeously tight chest. He was well ripped, I guessed that he played rugby as he had lots of upper body muscle, shaved chest and strong muscles. Fiona obviously liked it too; she slid slowly down his body tracing her tongue over his chest and nipples before dropping to her knees. She unbuttoned his pants and slid them off his legs before pulling his boxers down to reveal a gorgeously thick cock, long with a bulbous, angry head. Fiona looked at me and she smirked at whatever she saw in my eyes -- probably lust and longing. Maintaining eye contact with me, she gripped his shaft and started to trace her tongue over the head of his cock and down the shaft, kissing his cock slowly and deliberately. I thought she was proving a point again and was going to suck him off in front of me but she stopped and spoke to me: "Do you want to suck my boyfriend's cock slut?" she said mischievously. I did, badly and everyone knew it. I still looked across nervously at Paul as it still didn't seem right lusting after another's guy's cock in front of him but everyone knew I wanted it. "Yes Miss...yes I do." I conceded. "Ask him for permission then...and come here..." she said. Without even thinking I walked the two steps over to them and dropped to my knees without even being prompted. "Please can I suck your dick.....Sir..." I said, not quite knowing how to ask for such a thing. "Well, OK, if you insist!" Tom said, as he grabbed the shaft of his cock and offered it to my mouth. I wasted no time in moving in, allowing the head of his cock into my mouth straight away. It was throbbing, rock hard and so thick that I had to stretch my mouth to get it in. As I started to chug on his cock (the third guy in a small number of days I had blown) I noticed his long, heavy balls. I cupped them and fondled them gently as I sucked. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fiona was sitting on the sofa next to us. She had pulled off her skirt and knickers and was rubbing her clit to the sight of her previously prim neighbour bobbing her head enthusiastically over her younger boyfriend's thick pole dressed in just a pair of black stockings and doing exactly what she was told. What I was told to do next initially disappointed me. Fiona told me to stop sucking and beckoned me between her legs, which were parted obscenely wide as though she was posing for a wank mag. I could see her pussy open and glistening against her fingers. I had a knot of lust but also of fear. I had never done this before. I knew what to do though as I know how I like my own pussy eaten, it was just the act of pleasuring another woman, especially in front of two guys. Fiona demanded attention though and pointed to her slit with an upturned eye as if to say, 'what are you waiting for slut!' I moved across between her legs and immediately breathed in the musky aroma of another aroused woman. I wasted no time and lapped at her cunt. I parted her pussy gently with my fingers so her clit folded out. I was determined to do this well. I pursed my lips and did a circular, kissing motion over her clit, my fingers pressing into her hot slit. I felt her groan and grip my head with her thighs to draw me in closer. "Come on Tom!" I heard her say as her excitement began to build, "Don't just stand there all stiff and hard, get inside the dirty slut. Fuck her pussy for me!" As I delved my tongue further into the moist folds of new domme mistress, Tom behind me didn't need telling twice. Everything that had happened in the hour or so he'd been in our house had probably turned him on and I knew from its brief spell in my mouth that his cock was very ready for action. I tried not to stop pleasuring Fiona, my nose was pressed flat against the thin strip of pubic hair she had as my tongue ached from my stiffening it inside her pussy. My fingers were sopping as they slid inside her. As her pleasure built and built, Tom moved in behind me and I felt his right hand on my shoulder while his stiff cock slid along my back. As he moved closer still, I felt him guide his shaft into my slit. I was almost embarrassed by the ease my cunt accepted his member; I was so wet he barely had to push before he was balls deep up me. I heard Fiona groan in delight as she felt Tom's thrust as he pushed me against her causing me to groan into her pussy. He settled into a quick rhythm and gave me a noisy, squelchy fuck. I could hardly think with the sensory overload as my tongue collected the pussy juice of Fiona while my own pussy was being destroyed by Tom's thick cock. As he built into his rhythm, he placed a hand on each of my hips holding me down firmly and still while he had me. I did think briefly about Paul and whether he was enjoying the sight of another man plowing his wife hard in front of him. I hadn't done it purposely but I'd certainly not spared his feelings if he'd found the sight uncomfortable, I was openly enjoying being fucked in front of him. Not that I could see him at all and for the last few minutes I confess, I forgot he was even there! "Mmm, make me cum in your face as my guy fucks your dirty cunt, you cheap tart!" Fiona screamed as once again, Tom speared me with his cock pressing me into her slit. I knew the point of no return was approaching for her; I pulled her pussy lips as far apart as I could and enveloped her clit with my lips and then my tongue. She arched her back hard beneath me before screaming out, her pussy throbbing as she gripped my hair tightly and came against my tongue, her wetness and hot pleasure spilling into my mouth. She hardly waited for her orgasm to subside, she sat up and kissed me hard on the lips, tasting herself on me and moaning into my mouth as she enjoyed the sight of Tom continuing to pound me. He had moved his hands around me and was now mauling my heavy tits beneath me, tweaking my nipples that were rock hard between his fingers. She whispered words into my ear, I didn't catch them all; "Yes that's it slutty girl, take my man's cock in your cunt...I can see you love it...you were made to be fucked hard like this....get used to this it's gonna happen very often from now....you're going to eat my cunt often....whore....slut...my bitch....my guy is going to have you as often as wants..." Her talk turned me on still further and I was incredibly grateful to her for what happened next as I needed to come very badly. She moved behind me towards Tom. He sat on the sofa, his rock solid cock poking up almost in my eye. He gripped it tightly with his hand initially. I could smell my own cunt on him. Fiona had moved in behind me. I let out a deep guttural scream as she gripped my pussy and slid her fingers deep inside me and rubbed my clit hard; Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 04 "You can come as soon as you've tasted my boyfriend's cum in your mouth whore! Sluts have to earn their cums" She said as she teased my clit. I felt as though I would come immediately I was so turned on but I knew the rules of obedience now. Urgently, I practically swatted Toms hand away from his own shaft, gripped the base with my own hand and practically in one lunge, swallowed his cock whole. I overdid it and gagged, coughing and spluttering on his cock which I had to spit out, to a little laughter presumably from all three of them. My temporary failure was punished by Fiona withdrawing her fingers; "Get that cock back in your mouth slut, now!" She ordered. I did so, more carefully this time, allowing the cock head to steadily make its way down my throat. I built into a quick rhythm, Tom threw his head back, gripped my head with his hands forcing my mouth down over his pole. It felt delicious in my mouth, so thick and meaty and I could feel the thick veins of his shaft against my lips and tongue. Fiona had her fingers back on my throbbing clit again, my knees were buckling and I almost lost focus on the cock in my mouth for a minute. I almost didn't notice as I now felt the familiar liquid blast of a dick spewing its contents in my mouth. I tried to re-focus and swallow the cream as quickly as I could but I couldn't prevent some jizz dribbling out my mouth as he came buckets, the sperm ricocheting inside my slut mouth. A loud groan from Fiona indicated she was pleased with the sight, she gave me just what I needed, she pressed her fingers hard into me sending me over the edge of sanity and into orgasmic bliss. My head in Tom's lap, his still hard cock next to me as my whole body slumped as my powerful come took over me. It seemed like an hour had passed as I lay there in post orgasm bliss. In reality it was probably a few seconds. Fiona (playfully this time) swatted my arse with her hand and told me to stand up. I did so, almost falling over as I was so unsteady on my feet. I looked to the other chair, Paul was sat there grinning, his cock still out, semi hard against his stomach despite it being only a few minutes since he'd spewed his come into Fiona's mouth. This was going to be a long night! We all needed to recover a little but as the group appointed house slut, I had to fetch everyone drinks again and some small talk resumed, drinks in hand. The others had made themselves relatively decent again, Tom and Paul pulled their pants back on and Fiona wrapped her skirt back around her. I thought she was going to sit there with her tits out but as I reached for my robe to cover myself, Fiona strode over and took it off me, wearing it herself; "Tut tut," she said, wagging her finger at me, "No clothes for sluts, we will want to use you again soon. Now sit on this chair and spread those legs wide for us all." She pointed to the armchair but as I started to move over, she went and pushed the chair right into the middle of the room, directly in front of the sofa. I quickly realised my humiliations were far from over and I was going to continue to be the entertainment. Fiona pushed me onto the chair and took a seat with the two guys directly opposite me; "Now spread those pretty legs slutty!" said Fiona, "One leg over the chair, the other stretched out." I looked up to see all three of them watching me intently while sipping their drinks, as if I was the entertainment on TV. I was blushing crimson but complied as ever. I felt as if I was posing for Playboy, my black stockings splayed wide as I spread my legs and had to cringe as I felt three sets of eyes stare deeply into my most private areas. "Now play with your clit, show the guys where you want their dicks," Fiona said, mockingly. The guys chortled as I started to frig myself off in front of them, very uncertainly and wishing I wasn't doing it at all. My pussy was soaked already, my whole body cringing in embarrassment but somehow still obeying my neighbour. Fiona smirked an evil grin and stood up, "Oh, I almost forgot the arse fucking!" She said and walked over to her bag to fetch something. That something soon loomed into view. Fiona moved over to me and without even bothering to ask, just manoeuvred me around so my legs were pressed against my boobs, my arse and pussy sticking out. Just to make it that little bit worse, she stepped aside, still holding my legs in place and said, "See anything you like guys?" Embarrassment washed over me as a sickly feeling as I felt both guys could literally see all the way up my arse. In the position she wanted me, Fiona then brought the object into view. It was a metallic and very thick butt plug, with a very large bulbous silver head. She popped the object into my mouth and told me to get some spit on it before, in full view of both guys, began pressing it inside my bum hole. I gasped as it was cold and gasped again in pain as I felt my arsehole stretch around it. Fiona didn't stand on ceremony, just pushed it in as quickly as it would go until it was fully inside me. Again, I was unceremoniously moved into position by Fiona. This time she had me on all fours in front of the guys, metallic butt plug clearly visible to them all. She simply left me there on all fours and returned to her seat with the two guys. My emotions were the usual mix of shame, embarrassment, lust and light headed shock at what was going on. I actually tried to focus on the sight I must have presented to the others, especially Fiona. I had spent years as her neighbour, hosted very middle class dinner parties with her and essentially as far as I knew, been a role model to her. Now here I was in front of her and two guys, wearing nothing but slut stockings, arse up in the air, butt plug in arse, essentially waiting for someone to arse fuck me. In a way I was outraged that I was enjoying this so much, I wanted to stand up, throw the butt plug in her face and storm out but I couldn't -- my lust and the intoxicating humiliation held me in place waiting for more fucking. As I offered my arse up in the air, the three of them chatted as if I wasn't there. I could feel my arse settling down again growing accustomed to the plug. As I was beginning to think I'd be left there all night, Fiona surprised me. She moved around to my face, lifted my head up and put a blindfold around my face. "Another little game. I do enjoy my little games. One of the guys is going to fuck your arse my dear, while the other two of us watch. You're not going to know who though, although maybe you'll work it out. After your arse fucking, you will remain in place for 10 minutes and then go to bed." With that, and without waiting for any response from me, she moved behind me and I felt her fingers reach in between my arse and pull the plug out. I could just hear her whisper to either Tom or Paul and one of them gripped my waist and pulling my arse cheeks aside, plunged their cock up me. I screamed in pleasure and a little pain as he pressed his rod firmly up inside me. At least he wasn't too rough but he was quite quick nevertheless and was soon balls deep inside my tight bum hole. I moaned and groaned in lust as the guy gripped my shoulders firmly and let me have it, making me feel the contraction of my arse hole as he plumbed me deeply in and out. I wasn't sure who it was fucking my arse. I thought the hands on my shoulder were stronger than Pauls but Tom had a slightly thicker cock than Paul and this one inside me felt relatively thin, but then, I'd spent twenty minutes with a butt plug up there. Fiona was good at this I thought. Two people were getting their own personal live porn show of a slut being arse fucked, one guy was getting the pleasure of shafting my arse and I was suffering the humiliation of not even knowing who it was! My arse was sore now. Even though the initial sharp stab pain of penetration was gone, my poor arse had had enough. I was relieved when I felt the guy buggering me getting close. I tried to stick my arse out further to let him in deeper so he'd finish. From nowhere, Fiona was suddenly close and talking into my ears: "Oh yes, look at her taking a thick cock up her arse. Does she even know who is fucking her, the tramp!" and, "Mmm, come on, here it comes, fill the slut's belly full of spunk, if you have any left!" As she said this, I felt my hips being gripped forcefully as his belly slapped my arse cheeks for the last time. The entire length of his cock was buried in my arse and his balls rested against me as they unloaded inside me. My arse muscles gripped and milked his cock as I felt it spasm violently and deposit his goo deep inside me. Surreally, he hadn't made a sound and didn't do so as his come subsided and he pulled his cock out. I felt some fluid drip out my arse as he did so. "Ten minutes whore, ten minutes," I heard Fiona say. I waited ten minutes. As I waited I thought again about what had just happened. I felt teary that it had happened, almost overcome by it but not that it had happened exactly, more that I had enjoyed it so much. I had willingly let myself be used and abused and I'd do it all again gladly. As I figured ten minutes had past, and with sperm leaking out of me, I lifted the blindfold off. As I expected, I was now alone in the room. As I took the stairs to bed, I was relieved to see just Paul there -- I didn't know what to expect. I said nothing but slipped my stockings off and had a quick shower to freshen up and soothe my aching and well used holes before slipping into bed. Paul was awake. I felt his arms wrap around me and cuddle me and whisper into my ear, "OK?" I leant behind me, kissed him gently and said, "Yes, OK," I smiled back and I was asleep in seconds.