My wife Ellen had been adamant that we would never have a threesome. I had always fantasized about her having sex with another man , I wanted a black guy, She was not having anything to do with it and that was that. years had passed and she had never given in and she was now 62 and I figured it would never happen now. She still has a great figure working out at least three times per week. Our sex life had been pretty low for the last few years and with my medical problems requiring a lot of medication my cock wasn't performing as well as it should. We still have sexual times together but my co... Continue»
A church going wife gets caught embezzling at work she
shouldn't have and becomes the reluctant play thing of
a fellow employee. (M+/F, reluc, slutty-wife, D/s,
My name is Kimberly. I'm a thirty-two year old mom,
married eleven years, with two c***dren. I work for a
financial services corporation where I commute to work
from our quiet, conservative little town. I'm active in
my church group as well as our civic organizations.
I've always tried to uphold the values of my religion,
and to be a good Christian wife and mother. This is how
I became corrupted, and betrayed myself, as well as my
It started at my job. There was a man there, named
Tony, in accounting, who had started several months
earlier. He was about seven or eight years younger than
me, but very much more self-assured. He was known
around the company as an up and comer, "executive
material," somebody marked for advancement.
He made no effort to hide his interest in me, from his
first day in our division. I remember he smiled when he
took my hand, then his eyes left mine and traveled all
the way down my body and back up again. I remember that
I blushed and had to look away.
After that he came around to my workstation more often
than he needed. He would massage my neck, or help me
with my work by guiding my hand on my computer.
Sometimes he would caress my hand while he was helping
me, or rest his hand on my leg. He said indecent,
provocative things to me. I would have to pull my hand
away when he would start to caress me, and he would
laugh and try again another day. I made sure he knew I
was married, but my ring didn't seem to mean a thing to
He was a handsome Italian man, and very muscular from
working out. I admit I was little flattered. I even
found myself fantasizing about him at night. Some of
the girls were jealous. But I never seriously thought
about doing anything with him, because of my marriage
vows. They were important to me, even if sometimes
things were a little rocky with my husband. Even back
when I thought he was having an affair, I hadn't
questioned them. I also never thought of reporting him,
though perhaps I should have.
Things went on that way, for maybe a year or more,
before Tony learned my secret. I had been exaggerating
my expenses on my compensation vouchers. At first it
was just on parking. But things were tight at home, and
pretty soon I was cheating on the vouchers on a regular
basis. It wasn't a lot of money for the company, but it
made a difference to me. I spent the money on little
things for myself, things that weren't in our budget.
It was an extra fifteen or twenty dollars a week.
The company never checked our receipts, so I wasn't
expecting to get caught when Tony approached me in my
cubicle. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand. Leaning
over me, he said, "You might want to take a look at
They were copies of vouchers I had submitted. We have
to turn in one form when we ask for the money and
another at the end of the quarter. My forms didn't
"You know Kimberly, this is why they make people turn
in two sets of vouchers."
I remember I had been really scared. "Oh God, Tony, it
must be a mistake!"
He laughed at me.
"You know," he said. "They're going to make you produce
I swallowed. My hand was actually trembling. My
receipts would show I lied.
I pleaded with him. "Please let me change them," I
begged him. "I can't lose my job right now, Tony."
He smirked playfully at me. "What's in it for me?" he
asked. Dropping the papers, he put his hand on my knee
and slid one finger up under my dress.
I looked down at my lap and then back up at him.
"You'll let me change these, Tony?" I asked.
He smiled at me and began to slide his hand up my
thigh, drawing my skirt up with it. "Maybe, Kim," he
said. "It depends on how good you are."
He continued to look at me, and when he saw I was going
to let him, he leaned down and kissed me on the mouth.
His hand continued to move my dress aside, and soon I
felt him through my panties. I moved my legs for him
and he began to rub me there. I opened my legs for him.
I took his tongue in my mouth. I had to promise to meet
him later or he might have taken me in my cubicle.
I can't say I did what I did next just for my job. At
the time I thought it was the only reason, but the
truth is, I gave in very easily. The truth is I liked
the way his hand felt on my thigh, the way his tongue
felt in my mouth. The truth is, I never even tried to
I met him in a conference room at noon. I made sure
nobody saw me go in there, and shut the door carefully
behind me. I was ashamed when I saw him. He grinned at
me with a look of naked lust. I was humiliated at how
he looked at me when he saw me come in the room like
that. I felt like a slut, sneaking into a room to be
with a man who was not my husband. I almost backed out,
but he took me in his arms and kissed me, roughly,
pushing me against the door.
I felt his dick, already hard, pressing against my
His hands caressed me through my dress, pressing
against the backs of my thighs and my ass. He stepped
back and roughly pulled my dress off over my head and
tossed it on the floor. He admired me openly.
"Kimberly," he said, "you have no idea how long I've
wanted to fuck you."
A guilty thrill ran through me when I heard him say
that. He told me he wanted to see the rest of me and I
stripped off my panties and bra for him. I was ashamed
of myself for what I was doing, exposing myself to a
man like that. But I was no longer wavering. My nipples
were standing up on my chest and my clit was swollen. I
felt a slickness between my legs. I submitted myself to
He kissed me again, holding my naked body close and
shoving his tongue in my mouth. He backed me onto the
table and pulled my legs apart. He openly admired me
while I sat there, legs apart, grasping the edge of the
table with my hands.
"This is going to be fucking great," he said, staring
at my pussy. He licked his finger, looked right at me,
and then he pushed his finger inside me. I remember I
threw my head back when he did it. He used one, two,
and finally all four fingers to finger-fuck me on the
I felt myself begin to move against him. I groaned very
He pulled his fingers out of me and he pushed me back
on the table. He pulled my hips up, and then bent his
face down toward me. When his tongue touched my
clitoris I felt a rush of pleasure. I squealed for him.
I covered my face with my hands as I felt him suck me
into his mouth. This was something a man had never done
to me, though it was something I often thought about.
It felt even better than I'd imagined. The pleasure was
When I came I stuffed my fist into my mouth to stifle
my cries, and then I moaned and slobbered around my
fingers. He stood up, his face slick with my cum. He
studied me for a moment. I remember I was lying there,
my chest heaving from my orgasm, my legs still wide
open for him. I wondered what he'd do to me next. "You
are going to be one great fuck," he said.
Lying naked on the table, my legs spread for him, my
cunt-juices dripping onto the conference room table, I
didn't care how he talked to me. It made me even
wetter. I wondered if his dick was bigger than my
husband's, and then I found myself hoping that it was.
His dick, when he pulled it out, was indeed a big, fat
dick, bigger than my husband's. I raised my head so I
could see it. He motioned to me and I crawled toward
him on the table. He held it up to my lips, and I
licked it. He put his fingers in my mouth and I licked
and sucked his fingers for him too. He rubbed his cock
across my lips and cheeks.
A little bit of his cum leaked out of his dick and
stuck to my face. It made me feel sexy, knowing it was
there. Then he turned me around so my pussy was facing
him again. He pulled my legs apart and laid his cock
across my pussy. My heart leaped in my chest when I
felt it there. He positioned it against my opening.
In that instant I felt a sense of panic, despite
everything he'd already done to me. I suddenly couldn't
believe it was me, lying there, waiting for a man to
shove his cock into me. I had been loyal to my husband
all those years, and I realized if I could leave, I
would not have really cheated. I wondered if he could
make me pregnant. (I had been trying with my own
husband for years, but I realized this was different.)
I hadn't seen a condom, and I suddenly couldn't
remember exactly where I was in my cycle. I began to
try to wiggle away from him, to try to say something,
but he grabbed my hips. He pulled my whole body onto
him, plunging himself inside of me. For an instant it
hurt, he was so much bigger than I was used to. I
wanted to talk to him, to tell him he had to stop, at
least get a condom. I think I even managed "No!" but if
did, he ignored me.
He pinned me against the table, and savagely pounded
me. The small of my back was crushed. The sensation was
overpowering. I was helplessly trapped under him,
unable to move or cry out. He fucked me hard, and he
fucked me violently, pounding himself deeper and deeper
into me, and jerking my body onto him with each thrust,
completely filling a place in my cunt that had never
before even been touched, until I began to feel myself
beginning to respond to him. My pussy clenched itself
around him, waves of pleasure radiated from around his
cock. I was panting, now, and moaning.
"Tell... me..." I heard him say, "how... much... you...
like... getting... fucked..." I gasped and shook my
head. "Tell... me... how... much... you... LIKE...
getting... FUCKED...!" he said.
And then I found that I did want to tell him. I put my
hand on my mouth, and then I found myself speaking
through my fingers.
"I do... I do..." I moaned. "Oh God... Oh God... Oh
please... don't stop..."
"TELL ME!" he demanded. He continued to pound me.
"OH GOD..." I moaned. "Oh please... please, please, oh
please FUCK ME! Oh please
fuck me, FUCK... ME...!"
I felt him pushing himself even deeper into me. His
cock was starting to throb. "Oh God," I cried, "Oh God,
please cum in me... CUM in my pussy!" He leaned forward
and squeezed my tits in his hands. I put my hands on
his hands, to goad him to squeeze me harder.
He groaned. I wrapped my legs around him, humping him
with my pussy. I came for him like that, anticipating
his seed in my pussy, moaning around my fingers. When
he came in me, it felt so good I thought I would die.
I worked the rest of the day with his cum dripping into
I wasn't ashamed until afterwards, when I opened the
door to my home and saw my husband. I hadn't cleaned
myself yet, and for a moment I was positive he would
know what I'd done. I remember I almost ran to the
bathroom in shame. He didn't know, of course, and I
didn't stop seeing Tony. I had enjoyed what he had done
to me, despite my feelings of remorse.
I let him do me again the very next day. When we did it
there, at work, the possibility of getting caught made
me that much hotter and wetter when we fucked. He took
me in the conference room again. The door locks, and
it's nearly soundproof. We both knew the managers had
keys, however, so we knew what we were doing was still
very dangerous. I remember telling myself I had no
choice, that I had to go along with him to keep my job.
He kissed me again, on the mouth, and squeezed my
breasts and pinched me. He was even rougher with me
this time, running his hands under my skirt and yanking
my panties off. He turned me around and pushed me down
and flipped my skirt up over me. He spread my legs for
me. He took me face down this time, and I was
completely helpless again.
I knew we could be caught like this. When he penetrated
me, I felt a little shock of guilt again, as I realized
I was letting a man who was not my husband put his dick
into me again, but I was sopping wet down there, and it
began too feel good to feel guilty about. After doing
me like that for a while, he turned me around so we
could fuck face-to- face. I remember how good it felt
when he came in me. I wrapped my legs around him and
pulled him in as deep as I could.
He fucked me every day that week. He took me in the
bathroom, where he had me blow him on my knees. He made
me clean his cock with his tongue and then he fingered
me to orgasm. He used my panties to clean the cum off
my face. Another time he used them to wipe a mess we
left on a table. I put them in my purse and walked
around with his cum oozing down my thighs all day. I
even liked the slutty feeling this gave me, at least
until I got home and saw my husband.
That weekend I went to church and the guilt was
unbearable. I knew I had to repent. I promised myself I
would put a stop to it. I told myself nothing was worth
what I was letting Tony do to me; it was dangerous,
deceitful, and degrading, as well as immoral.
On Monday I let him fuck me again. I felt powerless to
stop it. I let him drive me to a hotel, where he tied
me down and fucked me like that. I came while he
threatened to put it in my ass. Another day he took me
to his apartment, where he made out with me in front of
his girlfriend. He made me kiss her, and then he made
her leave so he could fuck me on their bed.
I knew I was out of control. I lived in terror of
getting found out. I was wracked with guilt. I wanted
to cry every time I said "no" to my husband, because I
was still too sore from one of Tony's poundings, or I
had marks on my breasts or thighs from what he'd done
to me. I felt even worse the one time I did let him cum
in me, mixing his sperm with Tony's. All I could think
about was how much better Tony's cock had felt inside
I was relieved then, when Tony was temporarily assigned
to another branch. There were rumors the assignment
might become permanent, and I prayed that it would.
What we were doing was terrible, and sometimes when I
was with my husband I could hardly breathe. I told
myself that if Tony did come back, I would never let
him have me again, regardless of the consequences.
Then things got much worse for me.
One of the managers of our division called me into his
office. I had never been in his office before, and I
wondered if I was in trouble. It didn't occur to me at
the time it might be about Tony. He had been gone for
weeks. He shut the door, and told me to sit down. He
had a little stack of what looked like micro-cassettes
on his desk. He turned on a TV in the corner and what I
saw there made me want to throw up. It was me, naked
from the waist down, with my mouth stuffed full of
We were in the conference room, he was leaning against
the table, and he looked straight at the camera before
stripping off my blouse and bra. He turned me around,
so we were both facing the camera, and eased himself
into me. Soon he had me bouncing up and down on him, my
breasts bobbing obscenely.
From the angle of the camera you could clearly see him
sliding into me. My face was contorted with pleasure. I
could remember that he had made me cum like that,
talking dirty to me. Later on, I knew, he would use my
panties to wipe the table.
"This is against company policy," the manager said. I
could have died of shame right there. "It's grounds for
termination. Automatic." I couldn't bear to look at
him. Getting fired at that moment was the least of my
concerns. I wondered if he had taped everything I'd
done for him.
"You know," he said, "the safest thing for me would be
to send these to corporate headquarters. Nobody would
I glanced at him. He was staring right at my chest.
"You would be fired, of course, once the board saw what
was on them."
I looked back down again, too scared to talk. I
couldn't imagine the shame of what he was talking
about. I remembered once I'd been scared of being fired
for stealing money.
"They would send the originals to the lawyers, in case
you tried to litigate.
There'd be copies, of course. Those could get passed
around for years."
My chest heaved.
"I wouldn't be surprised if some of those made it back
to you, or your husband, at some point."
I moaned out loud when he said that.
"Kim," he said, "you're married, what ten, eleven
I nodded. I could feel myself starting to cry. This
seemed like a nightmare.
"You go to church on Sunday?"
I nodded again.
"You're Presbyterian, aren't you?"
Tears started running down my cheeks.
"They don't approve of this sort of thing, do they?"
I shook my head hopelessly. "I'm... I'm so ashamed," I
cried. "Please," I said, "don't let anyone see them."
"What would your minister think about this?" he asked.
I let out a little sob.
"Or your husband? Or your k**s?"
I broke down crying. I was horribly ashamed, and I was
beginning to become afraid of HIM. "I--I need my job,"
"Kimberly," he said, "This isn't about your job. This
is about your being a whore. Stand up."
I glanced at him. I didn't see any hint of compassion
in his face. I climbed trembling to my feet.
"Tony won't be coming back from Detroit," he said, "
and these tapes belong to me now."
I looked at him, a small glimmer of hope forming inside
"Kimberly, listen to me. I like these tapes. I intend
to keep them for myself. But you have to do something
"Anything, Mr. Lambert," I breathed. "I'll do
anything." I stared at him with wide eyes and tears on
"Do you really mean that?" he asked.
I nodded anxiously. I would do anything, though I had
no idea yet what that would mean.
"Good," he said. He watched me for a few moments.
Tremblingly, I raised my hand to my chest. I unbuttoned
the top button. He smiled at me. I undid the second,
and he smiled more broadly. I kept going until I was
completely unbuttoned. I looked down and saw my breasts
swelling out from under the bra I was wearing. I could
feel my nipples pushing against the fabric.
"Keep going, Kimberly," he said, "I want to see your
Soon I was standing in front of him in just my panties.
I glanced nervously at the windows behind his desk, and
worried about the door to his office behind me.
Embarrassingly, my nipples were swollen and there was a
damp spot on the front of my panties.
"Mr. Jones," I said, "Please let me go now."
He smiled at me. "Kimberly," he said, "I don't think
you understand the situation. When you said you'd do
anything for me, I think you meant it. And I intend to
exploit that to its full advantage." He stopped
smiling. "In fact, you have to give everything to me:
If you do every thing I say from now on, I'll make sure
nobody ever sees these. If you disobey me in anything,
ANYTHING, I'll not only send these to headquarters,
I'll make sure everybody you know, every single person,
gets a copy. Do you understand?"
I collapsed back into my seat, my eyes filling with
tears again. This was even worse than I could have
imagined. "You can call me Master," he laughed. It
wasn't until later I learned he really meant that.
"Do you understand?"
I nodded miserably.
"Do you agree?"
I was still crying, but I managed. "I'll--I'll do
anything. But p--please, don't let any--anyone see
them," I begged him.
He must have watched me crying for a while. After some
time I heard him putting the tapes away. He told me to
stand up, which I did. I saw he had a camcorder on his
desk. "Strip for me Kimberly." I glanced at the
recorder. "YES, I'm going to be taping you, Kimberly,
and NO, there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
Now... take... off... your... clothes!"
I wanted to cry again, but I was terrified, and I
slipped my panties off my hips and onto the floor for
him. It was by far the most humiliating thing I'd done
yet. He was the next thing to a stranger to me. He was
utterly unattractive to me. He was much older, balding,
and paunchy. He continued taping me for a while,
panning up and down my body, including my face.
I was ashamed to be standing naked before him, ashamed
of all things I knew he had seen me do on tape, ashamed
of the things I was afraid he was going to make me do
next, but also ashamed of what my body was doing to me.
I could feel myself swelling and slickening between my
legs, and my nipples were even harder than before.
He put the camera down and carefully set it on the edge
of the desk, pointed at me.
"Kim," he said, "from now on you will be my own
personal slut. You will do everything I tell you. I
will use you any way that pleases me. You will not
question anything I do to you. Do you understand?"
I nodded, hanging my head.
"Say it back to me."
"I will do anything you... tell me to. I will be... I
will be your...
personal... slut. You will use me... anyway... that
pleases you. You can do whatever you want to me."
"Master," he said.
"M--master..." I said.
"Very good, Kim." He looked down between my legs.
"Don't drip on my carpet, bitch." He laughed at me.
He proceeded to ask me personal questions, about my sex
life, my boyfriends, and my husband. He asked me about
what I'd done for all of them, and I told him. I
admitted I had enjoyed giving head to Tony, though I'd
never done it for my husband. I told him I had never
had a man in my ass, though Tony had threatened to do
me there. I told him about all the things I'd done for
Tony, including the time with his girlfriend. When he
was through, I felt like even more of a slut than ever.
I remember hoping no one on the street below could see
me standing there.
He ordered me to stand next to his desk. He took an ink
marker and wrote "SLUT" above my pussy and "CUNT" on
each of my thighs. He told me I was no longer allowed
to fuck my husband without permission.
Carefully aiming his recorder at me, he had me finger
myself to orgasm. I was surprised at how easy it was,
and how hard I came. When I was done, he put me on my
knees and unbuttoned himself. He rubbed his dick on my
face and on my tits. When cum started to leak, he
rubbed the cum on my lips.
"Lick your lips, bitch," he ordered me. I did it. He
tasted foul. "Open your mouth," he ordered. He was much
smaller than Tony was, smaller even than my husband. He
put his dick in my mouth and ordered me to suck on it.
He slapped my face and ordered me to keep my teeth off
him. He took my head in his hands by my hair and
started fucking my mouth. Even Tony had never done me
like this. (Not that he could have fit.)
He slapped my face again when I started to gag. When he
came, he pulled out, and got his cum all over my face
and hair and tits, as well as in my mouth. He spurted
his cum on my cheek, and on my eye, and in my hair. He
took my hand and rubbed the cum into my skin. It was
sticky and disgusting and made me smell terrible.
"Keep rubbing," he said. "You're going to leave my
office like that, and you're going to work the rest of
the day with my cum on your face. If you don't want
everyone to know, you'll rub as much of it in as you
I worked the rest of the day with Greg's cum on my
face. When I got home I ran to the bathroom and
scrubbed my skin raw. I forgot what he'd written on me
and Bill came within seconds of seeing it there. When
he reached for me in bed, I told him my period had come
early that month.
After that, Greg set the rules for me. I was not
allowed to fuck my husband without permission. I was to
wear skirts but never panties to work. I was to ask
permission to go to the bathroom. I was to wear the
outfits he picked out for me. Occasionally he inked
epithets on my body; "SEX SLAVE" and "CUMSLUT" are
I was not allowed to scrub them off unless he told me.
I was never allowed to say "no" to him. I called him
"Sir" in public; in private I called him "Master." I
was to refer to myself as "your slut," or "your slave."
You cannot imagine the humiliation of calling your boss
at work and whispering, "Master, your slut needs to go
to the bathroom." After a while I got so used to
calling him master, and even thinking it, I had to be
careful not to call him that it in public too.
He was careful to keep what I did for him mostly
private, but occasionally he did embarrass me in public
too. Once he made me leave my blouse unbuttoned to my
waist. He made me wear a lacy bra that barely covered
me, and every man on the floor came to stare at my
chest. I heard several of the women talking about me
He made me learn a signal to make me to expose myself
to him. I had to learn to spread my legs, or flash my
tits on command. Another time he made me proposition a
man at another bank. I was made to ask him to put his
finger in me during a meeting. Thankfully, he didn't
try to do it. But after that I knew rumors were
spreading about me. People looked at me at the office.
Over time he became more and more demanding. He would
take me to hotel rooms, where he would tie me up and
spank me, and pinch my nipples, and spank my clitoris.
He liked to see me cry. He would do it until I begged
him to fuck me, or to cum on my face. He forbade me
using birth control.
He ordered me to tell him when my cycles were so he
could fuck me when I was fertile. (I did lie to him
about that.) I was terrified of coming up pregnant, and
he enjoyed that. He said he wanted to see me pregnant
with his son.
Although my life at work had turned into a perfect
hell, I tried to carry out the rest of my life as
normally as possible. I still went to church and to
other functions. I took care of my k**s. I tried to
take care of my husband, as best I could. I couldn't
help thinking about it, though, and sometimes I would
have what felt like panic attacks, where I would
tremble and flush, terrified that everybody around me
After a while, my husband did become suspicious. He
began asking questions about where I was and what I had
been doing, and wondering why I no longer wanted him in
bed. My explanations sounded suspicious even to me. I
started crying the next day at work. Greg called me
into his office. He told me he would still not let my
husband fuck my pussy, but he had another solution.
"Tonight," he said, "you will beg your husband for a
spanking, and when he's through, you will let him fuck
you in the ass." I was mortified. Bill was even more
religious than I, and I knew he would not go through
with either one.
"Trust me," he said, "wear your bra and panties, the
set I had you buy. Get on your knees before him. Beg
him for it. He will spank you. While he's doing it, beg
him to spank you harder. Make sure he does it hard
enough. I want to see bruises on your ass tomorrow.
When he through, tell him there's something you've
always wanted him to do to you. Something you're
ashamed to ask. Tell him that you've always wanted to
feel his hard throbbing cock in your ass. He'll fuck
you there, slut, trust me."
That night, I undressed and put on the bra and panties
Greg had made me buy. The panties were made of silk,
and hung loosely off my butt cheeks. The bra was lacey
and revealing. It was the kind that pushed a woman's
tits up and out for her. I met him in the bedroom,
where he had just started to undress. "Honey," I said,
sliding to my knees, "I have to ask you something."
He was surprised to see me dressed like that.
"I--I" I said, "I need you to spank me." I was too
embarrassed to look at him and hung my head in shame. I
did have to literally beg him to get him to do it, but
it was easier than I expected. It didn't hurt at all at
first, because he wasn't spanking hard, but I begged
him to spank me harder. The more I begged, the harder
he spanked me.
Before he finished, it hurt a lot! But the pain felt
good to me. I felt like I deserved it. The experience
was so intense I almost forgot the ass fucking. He held
me after. I felt his dick hard against my thigh. I
started caressing it with my hand, and he began moving
it against me. I almost made him cum before I
"Honey," I said, "there's something I've always wanted
you to do to me..." I was surprised at how quickly he
took me up on it. It hurt me much more than the
spanking had, and while it wasn't physically
pleasurable, I enjoyed this pain too. It felt good to
make my husband cum inside me, in a place no other man
had yet been, and after everything I'd done to him, it
felt right that his pleasure caused me pain. I know my
husband was trying to be gentle with me, at least at
first, but in the end I was crying while he fucked me.
He didn't try to make me cum after, probably thought I
would not be able to, but I quietly rubbed myself to
orgasm beside him.
I showed the bruises to my Master the next day, and he
was pleased with me. He told me he would like to ass-
fuck me himself, now that my husband had "broken me
in." He had me lick him to get him wet, and then he
violated me there as well. I didn't enjoy it at all,
though he did let me finger myself while he did me.
He told me that while my ass still belonged to him as
much as my cunt, I was to let my husband ass-fuck me
whenever he wanted, since I didn't enjoy it. That was
infrequent at first, but became more frequent over
time, after my husband realized he could have me there
whenever he wanted. I'm sure he thought I'd become some
sort of pervert. (Which in a sense I had.)
I was happy that I was able to please him again, though
I never got over the sense of violation. I found myself
wondering, sometimes, if he was losing respect for me.
This went on for about eleven months. Once or twice a
week my Master would take me into his office, where he
would make me get myself off for him, or fuck me, or
make me watch his tapes. Every month or so he would
take me to a hotel. I began to sense we was losing
interest in his game, and I hoped he might lose
Then it happened. I was coming out of the shower, and
my husband was standing right there. I don't know how I
was so careless. He saw a mark Greg had left on me.
When he asked me about it I tried to stammer out an
answer, but then I broke down crying. Before I knew it
I was telling him everything. I remember I was lying
naked on the floor, bawling and sobbing. He was holding
me. I expected him to hit me, to beat me, to throw me
out of the house or abandon me. Instead he told me he
loved me. He said he would never leave me. He told me
he would stay with me no matter what.
I felt his cock swollen through his clothes and I
unbuttoned him. I took him out and lovingly kissed and
stroked him. I made love to his cock with my mouth. I
sucked him into my mouth and he held my head in his
hands while I let him cum there. I remember he moaned
out loud while he flooded my mouth with his cum. I
looked up at his face. I could feel his cum dribbling
down my face while he looked at me and I could still
see lust in his eyes.
I told him more about what I had done and I watched as
his cock started to swell again. I should have been
disgusted, but I was not. I wanted to feel him inside
me. I wanted him to see the tapes and to fuck me while
he watched them. I wanted him to see me get fucked by
other men. I bent myself over the bed rail for him, and
I asked him to spank me, if he wanted.
I remember telling him what a slut and a whore I was
while he was doing it. I cried, but I was not unhappy.
Afterwards he entered me hard and rough. While he was
fucking me I told him I was not on any kind of birth
control, and he came inside me. Afterwards he held me
and told me he would raise my c***d as his own,
regardless. I masturbated myself to orgasm in his arms.
I thought my husband knowing would give my master less
control over me. But I found now that I had my
husband's knowledge, I no longer minded being master's
slave so much. I sometimes even looked forward to our
sessions, and I always told my husband about them
afterwards. He would take me in the same way, then,
filling my pussy or my ass with his cum after master
had had me there. I was getting fucked by two men on a
regular basis now, and I found I was getting used to
it. In fact, if anything, I found myself wanting more.
So when master told me he was going to a party, and he
wanted me to cum, I wasn't surprised when I felt a
little tingle between my legs. I asked him if my
husband could cum and he eagerly agreed. He gave me a
dirty little smile, but I was not ashamed. Or rather, I
was ashamed, for both of us, but more excited than
Master and I drove to the place together. It was a kind
of reunion for some of his war buddies. It was held in
a hotel, where my master had gotten a room. There were
about fifty people there, including relatives of some
of the veterans. Master had me wear a French maid's
uniform, indecently short, and showing lots of
cleavage, including the lacy white bra he'd had me put
I tried to pretend I worked for the hotel, serving
drinks and food, but no one else was dressed that way,
so it was a little silly. I gathered a lot of looks,
but fortunately nobody asked me why exactly I was
there. My husband showed up a little later. I pretended
I didn't know him, and he melted into the background.
Around eleven, my master gathered up a few of his
friends and took them up to his suite.
They were not all older men, I noticed. Some were
younger men, about my age, and one of the men had a
woman with him. She was very attractive, with sleek
black hair, and large round breasts. I saw my husband
slip into the elevator soon after. I went to the bar,
and ordered two martinis, which I drank down as fast as
I could. Then I ordered another. This was after
drinking all night.
When it was my time to go up, I was still very nervous,
though my head was swimming from the booze. My master
would have told them, I knew, that I had agreed to be
the "entertainment." He had put me under strict
instructions to go along with them, and to do whatever
anybody told me. I knew, at least, that I would soon be
naked in front of a group of strangers, but I didn't
know what else might happen.
I slipped into the room without knocking. It was very
dark, and the conversation ended when I entered. I
stood for a minute, trying to see who was there. Then
my master told me to come forward, to stand in the
light, where a place had been cleared for me. They had
put a blanket on the floor for me. I did it, and he
turned on some music for me. It was strong sensuous
music with a good beat, and I found I did feel like
dancing. I wanted to be sexy for them, for my husband,
for everyone. I looked around for him. I knew he was
I started swaying to the music, and moving my hips. I
heard a low whistle, and I felt a rush of excitement
run through me. Somebody clapped, and I started moving
my hips more provocatively for them. I unbuttoned the
top button of my uniform, and then the second one. I
couldn't see what they were doing, but I felt that they
appreciated me, that they wanted to see me, that they
wanted me. I ran my hands up between my thighs.
I lifted my skirt for them and ran my hands over the
front of my panties. I started bucking my hips harder
and touched myself with both hands between my legs. I
heard murmurs of appreciation, and I unbuttoned the
third button on my top. I slipped the top off my
shoulders, showing them the lacy white bra my master
had picked for me. "Take if off!" I heard a man say.
I cupped my breasts in my hands and looked down at
them. I massaged my breasts for them and ran my fingers
over my nipples and squeezed them. I put one hand back
between my legs while I squeezed and pinched myself
with the other. "Let's see your tits!" I heard a man
I slipped the straps off my shoulder. I held my bra in
my hands for a moment, then I let it slip down over my
waist. I stood there for a minute letting them see me,
while I continued to move my hips for them. Several men
began to clap for me. I slipped my hands down my sides
and slid them under the dress, which was now hanging
from my waist.
I started to slowly slither out of it. I was really,
really turned on by now. I was breathing heavy and
moving my hips almost involuntarily. My chest was
heaving. My mouth was open and I was looking up and
imagining what might happen next. Soon my dress and my
bra were lying at my feet. I was dancing naked in front
of everyone in only my panties. They were a red thong
kind of a thing, and only a little lace in the front.
I knew they could see almost everything. Still, I found
the panties were the hardest part. I touched myself
through them for them, and I felt my wetness there.
They clapped and cheered for me, and I slipped my hands
under them and touched myself. I remember I moaned for
them when I did that. Still I did not take them off. I
continued to dance, while they chanted to see my pussy.
I felt hands on my hips then, and suddenly they were
pulled out from under me. I reflexively clutched my
hands to my breasts (silly, wasn't I?) and I heard
everyone cheering and clapping, even the woman was
cheering for me. I took my hands down and danced for
them again. I caressed myself. The slickness from
between my legs was spreading down my thighs.
I knew they could see my nipples standing straight out
on my chest. I put my hands back between my legs for
them. I stroked myself there. I knew they wanted to see
more. I slipped my finger inside myself. I moaned for
them when I did it. After a while I slipped the finger
back out. I rubbed it on my face, on my lips. I slipped
it into my mouth. I heard my master say to lie down.
I did it for him. I spread my legs for everyone, and
continued to play with myself. I felt a hand on my
thigh. I wanted it then. I did want it. I let out a
moan for him, to encourage him. He began to caress me
there, and then I felt his hand on my pussy. I moved my
own hands away and lifted my thighs for him. I wanted
him inside me then, whoever he was.
I wanted my husband to see me be entered by another
man. He slipped his fingers into my cunt, and I heard
more cheering. I moaned for all of them, to goad them
on. I could hear a squishing noise as he slipped his
fingers in and out of me. I groaned for them. I closed
my eyes. I ground my hips against the stranger's
fingers. I let him finger me like that for a while,
feeling an enormous amount of pleasure build up inside
me while I thought of everyone watching my naked body
on the floor.
Another man knelt beside me. I looked up at him, mouth
open, panting. His eyes were blue, and he had thick
blond hair. He smiled at me and gathered up one of my
tits in his hands and squeezed, forcing my nipple to
stand out even more rigidly. He leaned over and licked
my nipple with his tongue. I groaned again. I couldn't
believe how good I felt. He took my nipple in his mouth
and sucked on me.
I came for the first time like that, humping one man's
hand, while another man suckled my tit. I imagined my
husband somewhere, watching me as I came. I felt the
hand cum out of my pussy. He held his hand near my
lips, and I could smell myself on him. I willingly took
his fingers in my mouth. I licked and sucked them for
The blond man took his cock out of his pants and laid
it up across my face. I opened my mouth for him and
slipped my tongue out between my lips so he could rub
it across its wetness. He groaned as he did this, and I
looked and caught sight of my husband standing in the
background. He had a look of lust on his face. I
couldn't see it, but I imagined him rubbing himself
through his pants while he watched this stranger rub
his cock across my lips.
Several of the men were beginning to unbuckle. I saw
the woman too. She was fully clothed, but leaning
against the man she was with (her husband?) who held
her from behind. I could see both her hands clasped
against the place between her legs. She was watching me
intently. I looked back at the cock that was rubbing
across my lips and tongue.
I took him in my mouth then. I tasted the cum that was
already beginning to leak out of him. I took him in my
hands and gently stroked it. I moaned again around the
man's cock, and he put his hand on my cheek and began
to caress my face and neck. I sucked powerfully on him,
trying to draw his cum into my mouth. He took my tit in
his hand and squeezed it. I flipped my tongue under his
cock, hoping to make him cum. I felt another man slide
a finger into my pussy.
I felt the cock in my mouth jerk and a warm jet of
sticky fluid landed on my tongue. I took him out of my
mouth and aimed his cock at my lips and tongue, so
everyone could see him cum on me. I rubbed his cock on
all over my face as he continued to cum, leaving trails
of viscous fluid all over me. I heard a man -- I hoped
it was my husband -- groan as I did this. I licked my
lips and took a long strand of sticky cum in my mouth
while they watched me. I could see the looks of lust on
every face now. Every man there, I could tell, was
waiting for his turn with me.
I sucked at least a half a dozen men on that blanket.
Their cum landed on my face, in my hair, and on my
breasts, as well as down my throat and on my tongue.
One man masturbated on my pussy. Another had me hold my
tits together for him and fucked me in between them. I
held my head up so I could look watch his cock fucking
my tits. I opened my mouth for him when he started to
cum so a little glob of it got on my tongue. The rest
sprayed on my lips, my chin, my neck, and my chest. He
wiped his dick on my nipple when he was done. They
stuck their fingers in my pussy. Every time one of them
would cum on me I would gather up a little of the jism
and make sure I got some in my mouth, even if I'd
gotten some there already.
After a while, they picked me up and flipped me over
the back of a couch. I knew my husband was about to see
me get my pussy fucked. The idea was enormously
arousing to me. I tried to move my hips to meet them,
as each one put his thing inside me. As each one would
cum inside me, I would think of my husband watching me.
I came like that, in front of all of them, thinking of
all the cum inside me and imagining how I looked, their
cum leaking out of my pussy-lips, and dripping down my
I must have gotten fucked another six or eight times on
the couch before they put me back on the floor again.
Then the only woman in the group came forward. She
lifted her skirt and I knew what she wanted me to do. I
wasn't disgusted, those this thought had always made me
sick before. I only hoped I could make her cum for
them. I saw her wedding ring then. Her husband
encouraged her as she nervously stepped over me. I
wondered if he had fucked me yet. When she put her
pussy on my face, I ate her enthusiastically.
I ate her knowing her husband watched us. I put my
hands between my legs while I thought of him looking at
her face, and I did make her cum. She ground her pussy
onto me while I licked and sucked. She made a high-
pitched whine while she came and arched her back above
me. When she was done, she left the room with her
husband, hand in hand.
The men picked me up and put me back on the couch.
Master announced I liked to get it in the ass, and a
couple of them did take me there, but the others
continued to use my cunt. I remember wondering who was
in me, but I couldn't see, and I never did learn who
fucked me where. I did see my husband though, while
they were doing this and I was pretty sure he hadn't
fucked me yet.
When the couple returned from the other room, they took
me down off the couch again and put me back on the
floor. The husband took his cock, which was limp and
wet, and had me clean it for him with my lips and
tongue. As he started to swell, I saw him look at his
wife, who nodded and smiled at him. He inserted it in
my mouth, and rubbed it on my tongue. I licked and
sucked it for him. When he came, he left a fresh glob
of cum on my lips and tongue.
By now I'd been fucked more times than I could count.
My face was covered with cum, and it was oozing out of
every hole. It was drying in my hair, and on my face,
and on my tits. They'd fucked my ass, my cunt, my
mouth, and my tits. I had lost track of the number of
times they'd cum on me and in me. I had cum twice
already myself, and still I found I wanted more. I
looked around, lying on the floor, still breathing
heavy, and coated and covered with cum.
Greg motioned toward my husband, whom I finally saw,
standing near the back. "This is the husband," he said.
Everybody turned to him. He looked like the deer in the
headlights. I don't think he expected them to know
that. "He," master said, "gets the honor of the last
fuck of the night."
My husband stood there. I licked my lips. "Please,
honey," I said, "please come fuck me."
The men cheered.
He stepped forward and looked down at me. I know I
looked a mess. I was cum- splattered and distended. He
had watched every man there take me in every
conceivable way and in every conceivable place. I
licked my lips again. I pleaded with my eyes.
He unbuckled and dropped his pants. His cock was
standing straight up, as hard as I'd ever seen it. The
people cheered again. It wasn't wet or shiny, and I
knew he hadn't had me yet. He kneeled down between my
legs. "Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" he whispered.
I eagerly nodded yes.
He entered me easily; I could barely even feel it. He
leaned down over me. "Your pussy feels like water," he
I nodded happily. "I have gobs and gobs of cum inside
He took my face in his hands. I could feel the cum
sticking to his fingers. "I love you," he said, as he
started to buck his hips against me.
I nearly cried at that. I put my arms around him. He
was the only one there who fucked me face to face. As
he kissed my lips, I knew he could taste the cum on me.
I felt an orgasm start to build in my pussy. I thought
of all the men he'd seen use me that night, and all the
things he'd seen me do. I thought of all the semen
inside me, squishing around his cock, and as I did, I
began to orgasm there beneath him. He came soon after,
leaving the last load of cum in my pussy.
We slept there together that night, cuddling in the cum
soaked blanket. When we woke up, everybody was gone,
including my master. We drove home together.
I missed my next period, exactly two weeks later. It's
possible, of course, that it was my husband, but we
both know the odds are against it. My husband was good
to his word, and we're happily raising our third c***d.
Master seemed to lose interest in me, after I started
I think he was disappointed that I never caught, until
the night of the party. He retired in my fifth month
and moved to Arizona, where he said he had f****y. He
gave us all the tapes he had, or at least he said he
did, though I have my doubts about that. In a certain
way, I rather hope he still has some, and that he
watches me sometimes in Arizona.
I have a "normal" life now. I go to church. I go to
PTA. I rarely feel guilty anymore.
I haven't tried to repent. The truth is, I sort of miss
my life as a sex- slave. Sometimes I find myself
wondering if I could look up Tony in Detroit, or
wherever he is now. I imagine myself "accidentally"
leaving the tapes where they could be found. Even in
church I do this, and I'll have to shift in my seat,
because of the feeling between my legs.
I also wonder if my husband misses the slutty me. He
I guess I'm like Augustine, in Confessions: "Lord, save
me from temptation... but not just yet."
This is my confession to you, (Sandia). You can post
it, if you like. Just change the names and places.