Rating
Slut-2-Fuck Ch. 02
CHAPTER TWO: ASSEMBLING THE CAST
Chris whimpered with frustration. Sam's fingernail was teasing his full balls. She barely touched him and her strokes danced like feathers on his plucked scrotum.
He hissed, breathing in her scent. She was sat on his face. Her bush was thick, untrimmed, and her cunt was syrupy with excitement as he tongued between her labial folds. He tried to ignore her single stray pubic hair stuck in his gums and concentrated on bringing her off.
"Come in." He heard Sam announce, without warning.
Fuck!
He pulled his mouth away as best he could but Sam simply pressed down harder on his face.
"Come over here Laura." There was an amused titter in her voice. He could imagine his wife's face as she caught him with Sam 'in flagrante' like this.
He felt movement. The warm skin of Laura's body brushed against the top of his head. He heard a kiss as the two women embraced each other above him, the throaty sounds of their wet lips and tongues.
What the fuck?!
"Your husband gives reasonable head." Sam teased. "Doesn't he?"
He heard Laura's embarrassed intake of breath. "Mmm." She whispered.
Without warning, Sam's cunt rose out of reach of his tongue. He felt her fingers guide Laura's hand onto his erection instead. His wife's soft palm encircled him. He groaned with excitement, thrusting up into her gentle grip.
"You don't mind do you?" Sam asked.
There was a long pause. "N ... no." Laura stammered quietly.
"Just so that you know", Sam said to her, "it's been going on between us for a while."
Chris knew by the soft gulp of their kisses, and his wife's fingers continuing to skip lightly along his shaft, that Laura seemed to have accepted the situation.
A pungent bitter sweet aroma of perfume and sex assailed his nostrils.
"Don't make him cum yet." Sam instructed. "Here. You ride his face now."
"N ... no." Laura gasped.
"Yes!"
"Please ... don't make ..."
"Do it! Now!"
He stuck his tongue out like a panting dog. He wanted to please Laura.
"Omigod ..."
He smelt it milliseconds before he realised what it was. Then his mouth was enveloped by the soaking wet maw of Laura's gash.
What the f ... ggghh ...!
Laura began undulating on his face, rubbing her sloppy folds against his features. Strong hands tugged his hair and Sam's voice burrowed into his ear.
"Don't fight it! Give in to it. What's good for the goose and all that! She enjoyed it. Every bit as much as you've enjoyed fucking me."
Rage and shock and lust and need fought inside him simultaneously. Laura's hand was toying with his dick, lightly, but firmly enough to make him cum. He bucked his hips and gulped another mouthful of her bitter sweet fluid.
"That's a good boy." Sam said. "Go on! Make each other cum."
Chris's lips and tongue sought out his wife's engorged clit while he pushed himself in and out of her clenched fist until wailing sirens went off in his head.
*** *** ***
"It was not rape." Sam replied calmly.
"But she was tied up! And blindfolded! They were fucking strangers!"
Chris was doing all the talking. Laura sat awkwardly silent, sipping her glass. The three of them were sat round the kitchen table, drinking wine.
For Sam, the conversation was a necessary stage in the process, the negotiation. For a moment, she thought she would defuse the tension by making a joke, that Laura had indeed been 'fucking strangers'. Instead, she raised her voice angrily.
"Rape? Hah! Rape is what happens to a drunken woman in a back alley on her way home at night. Rape is what happens in war. Rape is what happens to an underage girl with a perverted stepdad, or to a wife with a violent husband."
Sam jabbed her finger at him. "And to call what happened to Laura here 'rape' is an insult to the word. An insult all those women who've ever been raped. And," she smirked at them, "what's more, I can prove it!"
They looked at him, mouths open like fish. Her smirk dissolved into a nice, understanding smile. She held all the aces; the 10x8 printouts of Laura's bucking bronco routine and her piercing orgasm were just a few of them. Sam stared into Laura's green eyes and saw her shudder of embarrassment.
"Tell him."
Laura dropped her eyes and shook her head slowly. She dry-swallowed and looked up at her husband. "No. It ... wasn't rape."
Sam opened her palms upwards in an 'I-told-you-so' gesture.
She was the only one of them who was dressed in clothes. Chris was wearing a towelling bathrobe and Laura was still naked, except for her skin-tight 'Bimbo' top, with bare pussy and legs.
"Let's get one thing straight." Sam said to both of them, mostly to Chris. "From now on, it's my way, or the highway."
In every battle, there is a moment when the victor and vanquished both realise their fates. Chris's brown eyes dropped in acceptance of defeat.
They spent the next three hours talking. Drinking and really communicating. It was the first booze that Sam had allowed them for ages and first Laura, then Chris, started slurring, the alcohol removing their last inhibitions.
Laura admitted to them both how turned on she had been since Sam had entered their lives. Sometimes, she said, of course it was hard being a slave in her own house; the shame, the guilt, the queasiness when she feared her life was being taken over. But it was what she wanted. More than 'wanted'. Needed. She took Chris's hand tight in hers and apologised to him for her behaviour and for what she had become. It was just ... who she was.
Chris replied that he was the one who should say sorry to her. He confessed that he felt similar shame, anxiety and disgust with himself. He hated the illicit thrill he got from being financially dominated, his forced chastity and now the final straw: being cuckolded. He leaned over and, glancing at Sam for permission, kissed his wife gently on the forehead.
And Sam surprised herself, and both of them, by owning up to her own misgivings too. Domination is an easy fantasy - an exciting fiction - but real life control comes with responsibility. She would never intentionally hurt either of them, or harm their love for each other. She just had this great urge to control willing victims.
However, this was a journey and she didn't know their eventual destination, any better than they did. It was a high wire they would all be walking together.
So, she concluded, they had either better throw her out, tonight – right now - or accept her as their Mistress. Without any limits. Without any safety net. She was taking the steering wheel now and they could jump in behind her for the ride, or not.
The one thing she wouldn't ever allow them to do was to drive from the back seats.
At midnight, Sam wryly raised her glass in a toast.
"To the future."
The three of them chinked glasses and went up to her bedroom.
That night, for the only time, they had sex as a threesome. Naked limbs entwined, almost as equals. Laura was mostly the centre of attention. Her cunt was still slick and unwashed from Tim, Ginge and Cole's residue. Sam let Chris make sloppy, vanilla love to his wife, emptying his seed into her melting pot.
"That will be the last time for a while." She warned him, affectionately.
Laura orgasmed twice, the second time while she licked Sam's clitoris, at the same time as Chris nuzzled his Mistress's breasts. Finally Sam climaxed too, and the three of them fell into an emotionally exhausted sleep in bed together.
*** *** ***
Sam was true to her word. Over the days and weeks that followed, she stepped things up several gears. Chris went to work in his Steelwerx Extreme chastity tube and focused on his job. He rose at 6.30 a.m., was out of the house by seven, and didn't return until 9 p.m. Sam wanted his bosses to notice his even greater efforts at work. And they did.
Laura spent each morning swabbing, drying, dusting, tidying, cleaning, polishing, sorting, washing, ironing. The house was perfect but still Sam found fault. A slightly misfolded shirt resulted in Sam pulling every garment out of every drawer so that Laura had to start over again.
Meanwhile, Sam ate breakfast and lunch, drank coffee and wine, all prepared, cooked and served by Laura. While Sam ate perfectly sliced fresh fruit, dressed salads and drank crisp sauvignon blanc, Laura chomped on dry cereal, greens without seasoning or dressing, and slurped tap water from a bowl.
Most afternoons, guests visited. Sometimes it was Tim, Sam's 'fuck buddy' as she referred to him. Laura never knew what was going to happen. Sometimes, all three of them would go up to Sam's double bed. Sam and Tim would fuck energetically and Laura would have to watch them. When they'd finished, Laura had to lick them both clean while they simply relaxed and ignored her.
But other times, Sam wasn't in the mood. She'd offer Tim a blowjob or a fuck with Laura instead, casually like she was saying 'grab a beer from the fridge'. Tim always seemed to be straight from the gym and sweaty on these occasions. Sam watched and gave instructions, telling Laura to tongue Tim's asshole or gargle his semen, always finding some new test to set her.
While they fucked, Sam warned Laura not to orgasm. Tim was dark and fit and, despite herself, Laura found him exciting, if not attractive. He liked to fuck her from behind, in the doggie position, and his large penis thumped thrillingly in and out of her vagina.
But Sam knelt close, her eyes fixed on Laura's in reproach.
"No. Control yourself, slut. You're his cum dump. Nothing else."
When he came, his hot fluid spilling inside her, Laura had to bite her bottom lip, steeling her own body not to melt. When he pulled out, Sam passed her a soup spoon.
"Don't waste it."
Laura squatted on the bed on her knees and held the spoon under her vagina. On Sam's command, she squeezed her muscles, pushing the pasty white globs into the round receptacle. Tim produced a seemingly enormous load every time and she had to hold the spoon carefully to stop it spilling over the sides. Finally, Laura had to lay it on her tongue and gargle it, trilling it round her palate.
But one afternoon, Laura was blindfolded and tied to the double bed. An unknown man arrived and Sam's voice greeted him downstairs. Soon, their footsteps climbed the staircase and the door opened. Breathing, movement, hushed laughter drifted across the room. Laura winced as fingers roamed her body. Coarse male hands squeezed her nipples and fingered her labia.
"Ngah ..." she objected.
More amusement. She heard the grating sound of a zipper.
"Here. Put this on."
The rustle of a wrapper.
A wet tongue licked her neck. "Don't worry. You know this cock already. But he's wearing a condom just so you can drink his cum afterwards."
Laura cringed at Sam's words. She felt the weight of a man's body and the jab of an erection between her thighs. But she was wet enough for it to penetrate her easily.
"Oh no, hold on." Sam's voice teased. "I fucked up. Maybe you have been with this guy after all? I forget. Is he your number three or four? Or maybe he's new number five?"
Laura gasped, her brain scrambled by stimulation and indignity. The nameless penis continued to plunge into her in a barrage of panting and garlic.
"Mmm ... mmmf ..." His deep baritone exhaled.
Fingers thumbed Laura's nipples and hands gripped her hips.
Sam encouraged him. "That's right. Fuck the bitch. She'll never know who you are. She's just a slut to unload into. Isn't that right, slut?"
Laura tried to shut her ears. And yet ... she sensed an orgasm of shattering intensity building in every part of her body; her cunt, her fingertips, her brain.
"Smile."
She gasped towards where she heard the click of a camera.
"Fuck ... fuck ... fuck ... shit ... bitch ... slut ... fuck ... fuck ... fuuu ... yeeeerrhhh ..." The man's groin slapped hard against hers and she felt him tense a few seconds atop her and then shudder in orgasm.
Unable to control herself, Laura matched him moments later, hearing her own climactic shriek as if it came from somebody else, some madwoman howling faraway. For a few seconds, she seemed to lose consciousness.
The stranger was heavy. He lay on Laura, breathing heavily, no longer supporting any of his weight. She realized how big he really was. Eventually the mattress shifted as he clambered slowly off her. Laura gasped with relief.
She felt something gentle brush against her lower lip. "Open wide."
Gulping with nausea, Laura sniffed rubber and bleach.
"Come on now. Say ah. Let's not be rude to our guest."
Her eyes wet behind the blindfold, Laura forced her jaws apart.
"Mmm ..." Sam murmured appreciatively. "Look, there's masses of it."
There was a deep masculine snort, almost embarrassed laughter.
Laura let a little of the fluid slide down the back of her throat. She managed to suppress her gag reflex. She had never used to swallow Chris's semen. It wasn't just the sickly smell of it. It was the slimy texture and how she imagined the taste would be. If he'd asked her nicely she'd maybe have tried it once for him but she had never seen any reason to volunteer.
Yet Sam insisted. Every time. Tim had been her first. She didn't like his taste, but she knew him. Kind of. She had at least seen his face. This was even worse. An unseen stranger's, tipped from a rubbery condom into her mouth, like she was simply a trash bin.
And in spite of that, she lay there obediently, jaws aching, lips apart, tongue coated. It wriggled down her throat like a worm.
"Good girl." Sam chirruped, like a mom egging her kid daughter to eat some vegetable she didn't like.
"Down the hatch."
*** *** ***
Chris stood at the ATM and keyed in his PIN.
It was the maximum cash his bank allowed him daily. Each day he withdrew £100. Until by mid-month the balance was almost empty. Aside from the monthly standing order for his mortgage and the household utility direct debits, he handed over all the rest to Sam. In ten and twenty pound notes. She insisted he gave her cash so there could be no paper trail. No comeback. No refunds. In return, she gave him back a small weekly allowance, just enough to pay for his travel and a lunchtime sandwich.
He knew it was madness. What had begun as a game was getting out of hand. He was working harder than ever, long hours, through his lunchtime. His bosses were pleased, unaware that he was wearing a damned steel tube inside his pants. They only way he could get through each day was not to think about anything but work; just files, phone calls, emails, his targets.
Anything but women. Anything but sex.
Anything but Laura.
Anything but Sam.
Of course, he got a secret buzz. He wouldn't have allowed it to happen if he didn't, right? He could just demand that Sam unlock him, release them, and then fuck off back to the shithole she lived in before, couldn't he?
If she didn't, he could go to the police.
Then he and Laura could return to their happy, romantic, bland, missionary, vanilla life together, couldn't they?
*** *** ***
The first weekend that Tim came to stay was another milestone.
Sam had been in for her boob job and had returned home for post-procedure recuperation. She'd been to the best place in the whole country to have it done; a sub muscular mammoplasty that turned her small perky A-cup tits to perfect round 32-C's.
Expensive but, hey, she was worth it!
She stared at herself nude in the bedroom mirror admiringly; 5'6", slim waist, great legs, not one ounce of fat, with this great new cleavage to show off. She flexed her arms, just as they'd advised her to alleviate discomfort. Tomorrow she'd raid her stash of cash to shop for loads of new lingerie. Now she could attract that rich, hot husband she'd always aspired to.
After all, Tim was a nice guy, a good fuck, a fun kink-partner. But that was all he was. She didn't really want to have sex much with him anymore, especially now, with sore tits!
Fortunately, she didn't have to. Laura could carry the entire burden this weekend.
Although Tim had fucked Laura over a dozen times, Chris had never witnessed it. Sam introduced the two men to each other on the Friday evening and made it clear who was in charge over the next 48 hours.
"Chris, strip."
Hesitantly, but obediently, Chris obeyed her and removed his clothes. He blushed scarlet standing naked in front of another man, especially wearing his spectacles with his hairless groin and dick caged in a 3-inch steel tube.
"Remove your glasses and bend over."
Sam winked conspiratorially at Tim. They both watched as Chris laid down his specs then bent at the waist to touch his toes. Sam picked the gnarled yellow bamboo cane out of the umbrella stand and handed it to Tim, who swished it in a practise arc.
"Not too hard. But enough to be a serious warning."
Tim grinned back at her. She knew he was getting into the scene. He wasn't a natural full time Dom. He was essentially 'vanilla'. But after all, hot sex was hot sex and Tim clearly enjoyed teaming up with Sam and her kinky couple.
Sam studied Laura's expression. She was kneeling, watching. It was essential that Laura witness her husband meekly accepting a caning. The next 48 hours would be the start of a whole new phase.
Thwack! The room reverberated with the shocking crack of rattan on flesh.
Chris grunted hard but managed to stay in position. A cherry welt lined his pale buttocks.
"Count." Sam snapped. "And say thank you Sir."
"One ... th ... thank you ..." Chris paused, ".... Sir."
Thwack!
"T ... two ... thank you Sir."
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
"S ... six thank you S...Sir."
Sam raised her finger. She smiled at Tim. And then at Laura. She felt like a Roman Empress at a gladiatorial games; thumb up or down? The power of life and death. Laura's green eyes blinked nervously like some trapped animal.
"Okay. Stand up and face us."
Chris's face was shiny and crimson. His caramel hair was all out of place. He was slightly shorter than Tim and it showed. His brown eyes were glassy.
"Put your glasses back on."
Sam watched him, wondering what was going on in his mind. She wanted to keep second guessing him, keep one step ahead.
It had now been 19 days since she had last allowed Chris to cum. That had been the night they had sex as a threesome and Sam had let him enjoy sloppy fourths inside Laura's well used cunt. So how horny must he be by now? Very, she hoped.
It would put him into deep subspace.
*** *** ***
Chris held Laura's ankles apart.
His wife was lying on the bed with her legs in the air, like she was having a diaper changed. He was kneeling above her head pulling her legs open. Both of them were naked except for his glasses and the infernal cock-cage.
Chris knew Tim had already fucked his wife, but this would be different. Not only seeing it close up, but assisting him as well. A deep hollow of shame curdled his guts. He had fantasised about this. But as a fantasy, never imagining in a million years it would actually happen. And it never would have done without Sam. She was the one who wanted to make fantasy reality.
And now it was happening. Reality.
He felt Sam's eyes boring into him. She had that amused, elfin grin on her cute face, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.
He had fucked Sam. Yet somehow he didn't ever feel like he had really ever had sex with her. It had been the other way round, mentally and physically. She'd been fucking him. And fucking with him.
He knew that Tim was Sam's boyfriend. So, in a way, Sam was being cuckolded just as much as he was, if Tim fucked Laura. Cuckquean, they called it, a female cuckold. But it didn't feel that way. Tim was just a passing ship in the night in Sam's life.Whereas Laura was Chris's lifetime love.
His wife for fuck's sake.
He could hear Tim in the bathroom. The sloshing sound of him taking a long piss. He hadn't even shut the door. The seconds ticked by and still only the splash of him filling the pan, endlessly emptying his bladder, preparing.
Chris glanced down at Laura but avoided her eyes. His wife was so beautiful. Even now, like this, she had a special delicacy. Her waist was tiny. When they first met, he used to joke with her about how come his cock didn't just go in and come out the other side of her?
He'd been her first man, they could never take that away from him. But he'd used to be her 'one and only' man too.
Not any more.
He shifted on the mattress to get comfortable. His butt stung from the caning. Not too bad, but enough to throb. Laura's tits were almost brushing his knees as he knelt by her head. They were fantastic; he was always proud the way his mates had teased him about "the Law-knockers" as they called them jealously. Well, her doorknockers lay spread out now, with her red nipples floating like cherries on a dessert, ready for another man to feast on them.
A man who didn't even bother to wash his hands. Tim flushed the toilet and instantly appeared in the bathroom doorway, wiping his fingers on Chris's own robe. It was untied and hung open revealing his muscled midriff and hairy groin.
Chris instinctively snuck a look at his own hairless mound; at his dick inside its shiny steel cylinder. His hands were moist and sweating on Laura's ankles. Both her holes were totally laid bare. Sam had recently waxed Laura's stubble away completely. Her skin was smooth and pale. Her labia were closed, puffy and tempting. He could see her bottom too. A tight crinkled bud.
"Ready Tim?" Sam asked nonchalantly, stepping back to make way.
"Sure."
"Ready Chris?" she enquired.
He frowned.
Why make him say anything at this moment?
"Er ... yes."
"Come on, you can do better than that. Ask him nicely to fuck her."
He caught Laura's wide eyes looking upwards at him like two sparkling emeralds.
"Please ... Sir ..." Chris's throat was parched. "Er ... would you fuck her."
"No."
He caught Tim and Sam exchanging amused glances.
"No." Sam echoed Tim's answer. "Not tonight."
Chris looked at them, not understanding.
It never occurred to him, until ...
"No. Tonight Tim is going to pop your wife's backdoor cherry."
Laura's eyes bulged. Chris felt her ankles instinctively trying to close.
Sam's expression hardened. "Hold her."
Tim pulled a jar out from the pocket of Chris's blue robe. "Don't worry." He said to Laura. "I'll be gentle."
*** *** ***
Laura shut her eyes as lubricant was applied to her anus.
Deep down, she'd known this moment had to come. Deeper down still, maybe she'd always wanted it to?
Not that she'd have ever let Chris do it to her.
She looked up at him. He was avoiding her gaze. Sam had noticed them both.
"Look deep into each other's eyes."
Laura tried to smile bravely back at her husband as he eyeballed her. She winced crookedly as Tim's finger entered her past the knuckle.
"Whoops." Sam teased her. "Careful Tim."
She tensed and then tried to relax, taking a few deep, rhythmic breaths.
"Ready Laura?"
She blinked in response, unable to bring herself to speak or even nod.
Tim smiled at her and he bent down. She felt his weight on her bottom and hips as he crouched to kiss her. His strong arms were astride her shoulders, right next to Chris's knees. Suddenly everything seemed so crowded.
She felt his hard erection against her body. He wasn't trying to put it inside her yet. She calmed a little and met his hot, excited kiss, sliding her tongue round his.
"That's it. Get into it first. A bit of foreplay." Sam sounded like a fanatical sports coach shouting on the touchline.
But soon Tim lifted his torso back up. Laura felt Sam's arm brushing her thigh and somebody's fingers fumbling at the entrance to her anus. Strong hands adjusted her angle on the bed and she was aware of Chris pushing her ankles forwards.
"In we go." Sam applauded.
Laura gasped, like she'd been punched. Tim had bulldozed her lubricated defences in a second, popping through her anal ring and what must have been several inches deep.
"Yesssss."
She bit her lip and tried to wrench her legs free from her husband's tight grip.
"Whoa bitch!" Tim laughed. He grabbed her wrists and held her down, then bludgeoned another couple of inches into her bottom.
She felt like she was jam-packed and fit to burst. "Nah ..." she grimaced.
"Oh yes." Sam chortled. "But don't worry, that's the worst bit over."
Tim was thrusting now, picking up speed, like he was fucking her. In and out, a little deeper each plunge. He was kissing her again, hard, crushing her lips.
"No ..." Laura whispered then gave up.
She realized that Tim was now fully inside her, his balls were slapping against her flesh.
*** *** ***
Sam was in heaven.
She slapped Tim's muscular butt encouragingly. He'd been hammering Laura's butthole vigorously for five minutes. She could tell his was going to shoot his load in her guts any second now.
But it was Chris's face she was studying. His deep set brown eyes swam with uncertainty. Here he was, still kneeling right next to the action, holding Laura's slim ankles apart, watching his love getting butt fucked for the first time, while his own dick was straining impotently against its steel residence.
Sam would pay Chris back a bundle of his own banknotes to know what he was thinking right now.
Sam knew she was wet between her own thighs. Literally dripping. She could feel the dampness on her silk thong. But she'd wait for now. Focus just on them.
"Grrrr .... yes ..." Tim roared, reaching his moment of no return.
"Go boy, fill her up!" Sam whooped. "Chris! Laura! He's about to gush."
She smiled down into Laura's eyes as Tim reared his head up. She saw Laura couldn't resist glancing up at Chris at such an important moment, biting her lower lip.
How cute!
Tim's orgasm lasted almost as long as his piss earlier. He bucked and jerked, groaned and pumped, planting his liquid flag inside Laura's back passage.
Few women go through life without giving up their vaginal and oral virginity. Sit round a table with a bunch of MILFs and everybody pretty much knows they've all fucked and sucked, somebody, sometime. But their anal virginity is a different frontier. You never know which ladies have surrendered their third hole. Many remain unconquered. Like mysterious mountain summits that have never felt the stab of a mountaineer's icepick.
Others are scaled easily, but still the first climber plants his flag proudly.
"The first of many." Sam announced casually, with a twinkle in her eye.
*** *** ***
The following morning, Laura awoke in the tiny bedroom she slept in. She was still dirty and had dozed fitfully all night. Sam and Tim now shared the double bed that had once been her and Chris's. She inspected her tender anus with her finger. There didn't seem to be any damage but she felt sore and soiled.
Before turning the light out the night before, Sam had come into her room and ridden her face roughly. She could still taste her saltiness on her lips. Laura was amazed by Sam's new breasts. They made her look more feminine and also even more powerful.
Laura slid her fingers from her bottom to her vagina, activating her clit like electricity. She would have liked an orgasm herself.
Here. Now.
To be honest, although submission was hard, it was addictive. The weeks since meeting Sam had been the most electrifying of her life. Where it would end she had no idea? She was a slut and now she was being treated like one.
She resisted temptation. Sam insisted on the 'honour system' and required Laura to admit to any diddling as she called it. Poor Chris lived in his steel tube and she knew both of them somehow deserved to be kept denied like this. There was apparently no female chastity device that fully prevented masturbation. It was up to her own self-discipline.
After breakfast, Sam announced she was going shopping and left Tim in charge of them. It was Saturday and she and Chris had their weekend chores to deal with; emptying all the cupboards then cleaning and restacking them, washing all Sam's training kit by hand, scrubbing behind the toilets, gardening their tiny yard. Laura had dressed in just her chores-T-shirt and flip-flops.
"Please may I use the bathroom?" she asked Tim.
He was on Sam's laptop, reading emails. He smiled.
"Sure. What for?"
"I need a shower. And to use the toilet."
He nodded, turning his eyes back to the screen.
Laura was no longer allowed into her master ensuite that Sam had requisitioned. She went upstairs to the other bathroom; it just had a shower, a low stool, corner basin and toilet. She kept it spick and span; sparkling tiled floor, shiny mirrors, bright lightbulbs.
There was no longer a hot water feed to the plumbing of the room. Sam had arranged a local plumber to disconnect it. Now only the cold taps of the basin and shower worked. There was also no longer a lock or bolt behind the door. Their comfortable wooden chair had been removed, and replaced by a low metal stool.
She shut the door quietly, hitched up her T-shirt and sat on the toilet. She glanced at herself in the facing mirror. Her hair was mussed and needed a trim. She'd have to ask Sam for the money to have it cut. Her eyes were dark-rimmed from lack of sleep.
She relaxed and started to pee. She needed to poop too and wondered if it might hurt her tender bottom. She sighed with relief as her bladder started emptying.
Suddenly the door opened and Tim stood in the doorway, grinning.
"Don't stop." He said, smiling. "Sam told me to keep an eye on you."
Laura blushed and felt heat mottle her neck. Sam had sometimes watched her in the bathroom but never a man, not even Chris. She listened to the embarrassing spray of her own pee. Maybe she didn't need to poop after all?
He chuckled. "I've never watched a woman piss before. Noisy aren't you?"
She looked at him and shut her eyes. Her stomach somersaulted.
"Y ... yes."
"Open your eyes." He said.
She forced them open. This man had fucked her several times and yet she barely knew him. He'd cum in her mouth and now even inside her bottom. He was undeniably nice looking, in a tough way, but Laura didn't fancy him at all.
She winced, feeling her bowel shifting again, as she finished her last drops of pee at last.
He took a step towards her. He was still wearing Chris's blue bathrobe.
"You need to take a dump too?" he asked, matter-of-factly.
She gulped and considered lying. But she croaked. "Yes."
He smirked. "And I've never watched a woman take a shit either." He held out his hand. "Take that skanky T off."
Laura bent her neck and dragged the loose T-shirt over her head. She was naked now, except for the pair of grubby Havaianas on her feet. He reached out, took the top from her, and thumbed her unsupported breasts as he did so.
"Get up off the seat a bit. Squat astride it instead." He said, stepping back.
Blushing again, Laura pushed her bottom up and straddled the toilet awkwardly.
Tim pulled over the low stool and perched on it facing her.
"Lean back. So I can see both your holes."
She closed her eyes, unable to look at him. His head was level with her waist. She had her hands on her knees to support herself. Her knees were spread open in the crouch position. Slowly she straightened her chest as far as she could.
"Wait." He said. He got up, rushed from the room, along the corridor, and returned seconds later, carrying his smart phone. He sat down again.
"Gotta make a record of this." He explained.
She shook her head, opening her eyes again to plead. "Please."
"Don't be silly. Now, smile."
He held up his camera and she forced a scowl at the lens. He leaned back and panned the lens up and down her body, pausing on her breasts and between her legs. He was videoing her shame.
"Okay, Laura. Hurry up and let it all hang out."
She wailed with indignity and felt herself lose control. She broke wind loudly.
"Oh boy." He laughed. "Proof that women fart too."
"Please ..." she mouthed at him. Her legs were unsteady. She felt so vulnerable, like she was going to miss the pan completely. She didn't want to go. She didn't need to go, not like this. She couldn't.
"Just get on with it."
She let out a sob and felt her sphincter muscle release. She strained and pushed. Slowly, a large dry stool emerged and she could feel it dangling between her wide open thighs.
"Hold it there a sec." He said, like some paparazzi snapper. "And smile."
*** *** ***
The doorbell rang.
Chris was downstairs, his hands in hot suds, washing Sam's sports kit. Most of it hadn't even been used but she liked it freshly washed and pressed anyway. She'd bought herself a lot of new stuff recently; everything from luxury cotton running gear, to designer cashmere loungewear, to the fanciest brand trainers. At least he could see where some of his hard earned cash was going.
He heard Tim call out. "See who it is."
Chris wiped his hands and went to the front door.
"Who is it?" He asked through the letter box.
"We're mates of Tim's," was the reply. "Tell him Ginge and Cole are here!"
*** *** ***
Sam adored expensive department stores. She wandered through the cosmetics section on the ground floor, browsed the watch and jewellery boutiques, sipped a cappuccino at one of the restaurants, and took the elevator up to 'Lingerie'.
She spent an hour trying on numerous items. It felt good to be experimenting with under-wired bras rather than the soft padded kind she had always used. The sales assistant kept returning with a vast array of C-cups in a rainbow of colours; white and black, red, purple, turquoise, in cotton, satin and silk.
While she shopped, she had received a couple of text messages from Tim. She smiled to herself. Everything was going nicely to plan. Maybe she'd been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't quite as vanilla as she'd thought?
*** *** ***
Chris had finished washing Sam's kit and hung it on the line outdoors to air and dry. Her track pants, shorts and tops billowed in the late summer breeze. He was gardening now, trying to concentrate, bending down to tend their small flower bed.
He tried to ignore the fact that inside the house, Laura was alone with five men. Tim, and some pair called Ginge and Cole, then another two guys who had just arrived ten minutes ago. Tim had locked the backdoor with Chris outside and told him that the guys had just come round to watch football.
When Tim had tried to peek through the window, the reflection of the sun made it impossible to see inside. And then he heard a sharp tap on the glass and made out Tim gesturing at him to focus on the flowers. Occasionally he could just make out the sound of the TV and male voices shouting.
What was going on inside?
*** *** ***
Laura's knees were sore.
She felt light headed, a mix of nausea and ecstasy. She was on the floor in front of five men. They were looking over her head at the television screen behind her, watching the midday match. Her job was to crawl from man to man, unbuckling his belt, tugging down his pants and licking his penis. Tim was still wearing Chris's robe but the four others all wore jeans or track pants, shirts or vests.
They sat in a curve, three on the sofa and two in chairs, with side tables on which they had beers and nuts. None of the men had cum. That didn't seem to be the idea yet. She wasn't allowed to use her hands to masturbate them. She just had to lean her head over and lick and suck them hard for a few minutes, before moving onto the next man, in a never ending cycle.
She was topless. After her cold shower, Tim had told her to dress in just a mini skirt, stockings and heels, but without a bra or top. He told her to put on loads of makeup and bright lipstick and to make herself look as slutty as possible. Her appearance produced wolf whistles and cheers from the men when she came down the stairs.
She'd never seen any of them before. They were a pretty unappealing bunch. But Tim seemed to know them all and didn't care about their looks.
"Their cocks are clean and healthy and that's all that should concern you."
When she shook her head, he smirked and unfolded an A4 colour printout.
Her mouth fell open. The printout showed her. And one of the other men. He was younger than her, freckled and spotty with red hair. He was fucking her.
Tim took a second A4 sheet from his robe pocket, unfolded it, and brandished it in her face. It was of her with another man, the fat black guy they'd called Cole. This photo showed the lower part of her face. She was blindfolded and her mouth was open in a wide 'o'.
It was undeniably her. She was caught in the middle of an orgasm.
"As I said, slut. A big, healthy dick is clearly all that matters to you."
She cringed, looking at their eager, ugly grins. Her vision was blurred, but she could make out the ginger guy's crooked teeth, she noticed the black guy's body odour and a whiff of marijuana on his basketball top. She saw the other two were a shaven headed brute and a bespectacled Chinese man who looked like he worked in a greasy takeaway.
Did Tim not have any friends who looked more like him?
But succumbing to greater power than her own, she sunk down onto her knees.
The match was exciting and every few minutes there would be a roar, swearwords at the screen, jeers and cheers. The team they all evidently supported scored the first goal but then their opponents equalised.
But whenever she was licking and sucking one of them, he'd obviously become distracted from the game. Whichever one would enjoy her slurping mouth. Their penises were weirdly distinguishable; from the sweaty black one, to the long thin one with red pubic hair, to the smaller one belonging to the Chinese boy, to the oversized one she couldn't fit in her mouth.
At half-time, she provided the entertainment. Tim produced the same monster vibrator that Sam had purchased online. Laura felt sick. It looked more enormous than ever, as long as her forearm and probably as thick.
"Give us a halftime show!" Tim said. "And make yourself cum before the second half begins."
Laura was in a trance. What further humiliation could they pile on her? She sat on a hardback chair and lifted her mini skirt, showing them her bald mound.
More cheers, leers and the inevitable smart phones filming her.
She was naked but for her black stockings, heels, makeup and lipstick. She licked her finger and slid it between her thighs to wet herself. The men laughed. She was stunned how soaked she was already.
She was even more astonished at the fact that she could get the enormous crown inside her. It was black plastic and contoured like a huge real penis, about 2 inches wide at the veined shaft, but first she had to get the circumcised head into her, and that was even wider, with a disgusting ridge of fake foreskin.
But controlling it herself was at least easier than when Sam had done it. She pushed the giant through her slick labia, into her yawning vaginal opening, and up towards her cervix.
"Oh yeah." They cheered. "Boy, now that is some slut."
Blanking out their insults, she wedged about 8 inches of it inside herself and then flicked on the motor to the batteries. A humming sound filled the room and the thing began to throb deep inside her. Disgraced, she began to push and pull it, carefully out and in, until she'd absorbed a further 2 inches.
"Hey, Jason. She could take you easy." Somebody shouted to the shaven headed guy with the largest penis.
"Smile." Said another. "You're going on the net, babe."
She stared at him open-mouthed. She'd never considered these photos weren't just fun. Drool ran from her lips. She couldn't even reply.
"Hurry." Tim said, looking over her at the screen. "The second half is about to start."
She felt the orgasm coming from about an ocean away. It built over what seemed like minutes but was probably only 20 seconds. It rose up her spine and in her head and crashed like a tsunami between her legs, before rippling through her body from the tips of her toes, up her spine, until the hairs stood on her head.
She collapsed in shattered bliss.
It had been the most extraordinary sensation in her entire life.
*** *** ***
From that weekend onwards, it was easy.
Sam had reeled Laura in like a big game tuna. She still was going to jerk about on the deck a while but she was basically sushi from that moment on. Chris was whitebait, not going anywhere, a tasty morsel before the main course.
Laura's own website was uploaded with photos and her rate card. But most of her business came from the AdultWork.com website. It was a global network of escorts and adult service providers. Laura was registered in the UK section.
And her working name was perfect and obvious.
Slut-2-Fuck.