Five Dates

It was the first scoop of ice cream that pulled Dalia back to reality. "What the hell is this?"

"Bubblegum."

"Why is it blue and not pink?"

Matt shrugged and slid his bowl closer to Dalia. "Mine's durian, you know that fruit that smells really bad, but it's supposed to be really good? I like it."

"Can I have some?"

"Have the whole thing if you want."

Dalia scooped some of the ice cream in her mouth, it was sweet and exotic. "I like it."

"There's a sundae bar if you want to try other flavors."

"Are you sure I should go by myself? I mean..."

Matt smiled and ate a big scoop of bright blue ice cream. "Don't worry, they had their fun, and they get there'll be trouble if they try anything else."

"Really?"

"You're not ready for more than we did today."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it, slut. You'll find out. For now, just have fun, make yourself the worst sundae imaginable, and make me one too. I'll wait."

No use in wheedling for answers, so Dalia sashayed her way to the sundae bar and dropped a scoop of chili pepper ice cream in the bottom of Matt's bowl. Let's see his face when he digs into that. She was more forgiving with the other scoops though. He'd put her through so much today, and it was only the first date. She'd never stop thinking about this all week long, wondering what else would happen to her.

Dalia looked down at the colorful sundaes she'd made and pushed her worries aside. Before all this, before Nina passed away, Matt had been her friend. That couldn't have all disappeared. There had to be a way to bring him to his senses.

*second date*

Dalia wasn't on her corner when the time for the second date came. She'd put on the clothes Matt had asked her to, a sundress, sensible shoes and of course matching underwear. The dress showed a healthy bit of cleavage, but her tits didn't spill out, and she had her long blond hair in a ponytail. She felt like herself, and that was the problem.

She'd flashed back entirely too many times in the last week, staring off into the distance, her body simmering. Nothing she did relaxed her. A hot bath ended in her playing with herself, and her free hand would slip down to her ass, tingling with the wrongness of it. She'd never used to do this.

At night, lying in quiet next to her husband, she stared up at the ceiling in the dark, and the silence scared her. Nothing to stop her from thinking, reliving. She tossed and turned, her body aroused by the memories, and always she could see Matt, smiling, a new plan cooking up in his devious mind.

The house suffocated her, bored her to tears. She'd laid her gardener off and bought his silence, so even that distraction was gone. Not that she'd dared make another move. Not now, with Matt's invisible hand squeezed tight around her, hijacking her life.

That's why she didn't want to go on a 'date' as the self she wore on her own time. The sexy, proud wife. Independent and witty, of a certain station. She didn't want Matt to take that from her. She didn't want to stain her designer dress with mascara tears as she choked on his cock, even if the very thought turned her on.

The bell rang, and Dalia closed her eyes as an unwanted wave of excitement swept through her. What she should do was ignore it, but her feet carried her to the door anyway. She opened it, ready for Matt's glare, but he smiled when he saw her. "You look great, Dalia."

"Oh... thanks. You too."

Matt grabbed her hand and said, "Come on."

Dalia had to lunge for the doorknob to get the door closed before Matt pulled her out of reach. "Where are we going?"

"You'll find out."

Before she knew it, Dalia was in Matt's car again. Her last ride in this seat was still vivid in her mind, but this time was nothing like it. The radio played a cheerful song, and Matt hummed as he drove them wherever they were going.

What was this? This felt almost normal, she didn't like it. They remained quiet until Matt parked near a bustling little market, full off grannies shopping around, the leaves of bunches of fresh carrots sticking from their bags. Maybe not that many grannies, but the sun was shining, and the people had smiles on their faces. Matt got out and walked around the car to open the door for Dalia. He offered her his hand, and she took it, lost as to what was going on. "A farmers market?"

"A farmers market, and strawberry picking later, but that's in the next town over."

"Why?"

"We're on a date, remember?"

"I... sure."

"Just relax, Dalia. We'll talk about your disobedience later. For now, I want you to enjoy yourself. Look around, see if there's anything you like. I'll cook for us later."

Dalia froze in place. He hadn't forgotten, hadn't let her little act of defiance slip. She forced a response from her dry throat. "Okay."

Matt held out his arm to her, and Dalia put her hand on it and let herself be led. Slowly but surely, Matt drew her from her shell. He fed her little samples of fruit and laughed as he wiped a drop of juice from her lip. He asked for her opinion, and they bickered about what would go best with the pork roast he'd bought. It was fun. With all the people chatting and laughing, bantering as they haggled with the shopkeepers, Dalia's mood lifted on the energy around her.

How long since she'd strolled along some market stalls on a nice day out in the summer sun? Weaving and dodging through the crowd, sticking close to her man, having some simple fun, just a nice date. Those had stopped even before she'd married Rich.

When they were done with the market, Dalia plopped in the passenger's seat with a satisfied sigh and a healthy blush on her cheeks. "That was nice."

"Still feel like I got ripped off."

"Wild mushrooms cost money, Matt. You won't feel ripped off when you shovel them in your mouth later."

Matt winked at her and said, "I know, I'm just kidding. Ready to go picking?"

"Yeah, I've never been. You gather everything yourself?"

"Mhm, they give you a basket and weigh what you pick. It's a lot cheaper and tastier because they're so fresh."

"Sounds nice."

"It is." Matt started the car, and he put his hand on Dalia's leg as they drove on the windy country roads leading up to the strawberry farm. Dalia didn't push him away, he deserved that much reward for showing her a good time.

The farm was a lot quieter than the farmers market had been. A few people strolled between the rows and rows of low plants, stooping down now and then to pick a particularly juicy looking strawberry. Matt put his hand in the small of Dalia's back and guided her to the counter where they could pick up their baskets to go picking.

He kept her close as they made their way through the fields, the warm touch of his hand always lingering somewhere. On her back when they walked, and smoothing out her hair when she crouched down to pick a nice fat one. It warmed Dalia more than the rays of the sun caressing her through her thin sundress. This really was a date, and her date couldn't keep his hands off her. It tickled her pride and left her with a hint of a bitter taste in her mouth when they'd filled their baskets to the brim. "I guess that's it?"

"Yeah, any more, and we'd have to toss them out. You can always come back."

"Without you then?"

"Who knows?"

Matt's answer dampened Dalia's mood, but she shook it off. He guided her back to the car and went to pay. They hit the road again, but this time Matt's hand stayed on the gear stick. Dalia wanted to say something about it, but she held back. She shouldn't encourage him. The radio played, and Matt barely acknowledged Dalia until they parked in front of his house. The car shut off, killing what little protection the music had been. Matt turned to Dalia and said, "Why weren't you waiting for me this morning?"

Dalia swallowed and looked away. "I didn't want to come."

"Why not?"

"None of your business."

"Did you think about me last week?"

"None of your business, Matt."

"I wonder how many times you touched your slutty pussy thinking about me."

"Stop it!"

Matt's breath was hot in her ear when he leaned in and said, "Am I wrong then?"

Dalia closed her eyes as her body burst to life. She felt so small knowing how wet her pussy had gotten the moment Matt's demeanor changed, how she was trembling now, dying to find out how he'd push her next. Her voice was weak when she said, "No."

"Thought so." Matt ran his finger along Dalia's flat stomach, skipped her tits and then grabbed her chin so she had to look at him. "I'll give you a chance to show me you can listen, slut. Take my keys and go inside, leave the front door open. Kneel down in the living room with your wrists crossed behind your back. Don't come looking for me, just stay put, I won't forget about you. I need to punish you for this morning, understood?"

Dalia sat frozen in Matt's grip, words wouldn't come out. He leaned in closer, his lips inches from hers. "Do you understand, slut?"

Dalia nodded as much as she could in Matt's strong grip, and she scrambled out of the car when he let her go. Had he planned this from the start? Then what were the farmers market and the farm? Confused, Dalia fumbled with Matt's keys and got the door unlocked. She knew where the living room was, she'd helped Nina put it together after all. It was still the same room, but emptier. The flowers were missing, and she couldn't find any of the small bits and bobs Nina liked to have lying around. The house really had changed.

Dalia stared down at the thick long haired rug, and she knew what she had to do, but she didn't want to. She wasn't fuck slut Dalia now, hadn't been all day, she was herself. A proud woman doesn't kneel and wait, knowing full well she's only making it easier to be fucked. But she had no choice, if she didn't do as Matt told her, he'd expose her. Giving in now was a small thing compared to that humiliation. She could do it. Slowly, fighting herself for every inch, Dalia sank to the floor until her knees settled in the soft rug.

One more thing left to do. She took a deep breath and crossed her wrists behind her back. There was no choice here, she had to do this. No matter what it might seem like, this wasn't her.

And so the wait began, the sounds and smells of cooking drifted into the living room. To Dalia, they were reminders Matt was in the other room, keeping busy, and she was here, kneeling on the floor, bound by his words. Minutes passed, and the struggle in Dalia's mind died down as a quiet calm crept up on her. The only thing allowed to her was to wait. She couldn't get up, couldn't leave, could barely move. Time faded as she sank deeper and deeper, a serene expression on her face.

A flick to her nose startled Dalia from her dreamy state, and she shook her head to focus. "Did you fall asleep?"

"What? No."

"Comfortable on the rug?"

"It's nice."

"Did I tell you to make yourself comfy?"

"No."

Matt sighed, "You don't get the rug unless you've been a good little fuck toy." He walked around her and locked a leather shackle around one of her wrists. "At least you kept your wrists crossed, it's something."

Matt bound her second wrist just like the first, and he clipped the two shackles together. Dalia let out a little whine when the metal clasp snapped into place and Matt pushed her forward and down until her face pressed into the rug. Still half-stuck in the weird haze that had settled over her, Dalia didn't struggle when Matt rolled up her dress and pushed her panties down to her knees. She gasped when Matt smeared something cold on her little asshole and worked it in, but she let it happen like it was someone else forced in this humiliating position.

"Get back up."

Dalia did as she was told and looked up at Matt, not really seeing him. He crouched in front of her, grabbed her dress and ripped it down the front. One more pull, and her tits bounced free from her bra. Startled, Dalia broke free from her haze, and her eyes fluttered as she regained her senses. "Matt!"

"Yes?"

"What the hell!"

"Are you back?"

"You can't do that!"

"I can do whatever I want with you, slut. You should know that by now."

"Fuck you, Matt! What gives you the right—"

Matt covered Dalia's mouth with his hand, cutting her off. He reached between her legs and drove two of his fingers in Dalia's sopping slit. Air burst from her nose, and her eyes widened, but Matt didn't stop, he kept finger fucking her hard and soon her startled gasps turned into moans.

Matt's eyes spelled thunder, and he said "You know what gives me the right, slut. Do I need to remind you?" He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Gradually he relaxed his grip and then opened his eyes again. "Not another word from you. One sound I don't like, and I'll gag you. Understood?"

Dalia nodded, dragging air through her nose as much she could. She could come any minute now, Matt had never stopped fucking her pussy. He'd even added a third finger, stretching her, hurting her, but her body gobbled it up. Just a little more and she'd get off.

Matt moved away and yanked his hand free of Dalia's slit. She groaned in protest, but stopped when Matt's eyes flashed at her. He held his glistening hand in front of her face, and she backed away as he neared. Matt tangled his free hand in Dalia's hair to stop her from shying away and wiped his hand clean on Dalia's cheeks.

"Look at yourself, tied up with your tits out, and your greedy little pussy begging to please make it cum. You're dripping on my fucking rug for God's sake. I don't know what's making you get ideas, so I'll make it crystal clear for you." He held his thumb and his index finger a hair apart and said, "I'm this close to sending Rich everything I have. One mistake, and it's all over for you, understand?"

Dalia swallowed and nodded, fear dancing in her belly, mixing with the raw excitement still lingering in her pleasure starved body. Matt let the silence stretch for a long, tense moment before he nodded and let go of Dalia's hair. "I'll show you you're a slut if you don't believe me."

Dalia was still catching her breath when Matt pulled out a tripod and a camera. Her heart beat in her throat, and words burned on her tongue, but she kept her objections to herself. She was on thin ice now, she needed to do what he ordered her to do. So Dalia watched in silence as Matt set up the camera and hooked it up to the large flat screen TV. He switched it on, and the image of a flushed, big titted slut filled the screen.

That was her? Her cheeks and tits were flushed bright red, and her thighs glistened with juices. Dalia let her chin fall to her chest in defeat. How did it come to this? And why did she want to look back up? Why did she want to see that blonde slut take a fat cock in every hole?

Matt pushed her chin up, and Dalia blinked when she saw a huge carrot right in front of her eyes, with a condom stretched over it, secured at the bottom with rubber bands. Her heart sank when Matt walked around her and put the carrot in her hands. She swallowed, it was huge, where did he even find it? She hadn't seen him buy it. Matt's hand locked around hers, and the ball of fire in her stomach flared up when he guided the tip of the orange monster to her lubed asshole, only to stop the moment he found his target. "You will answer my questions, slut. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Look at yourself, what do you see?"

"I can see my tits."

"What else?"

"My pussy."

"Is it wet?"

"Yes."

"So you're a slut?"

"Yes."

"A horny fuck toy?"

"Yes."

Matt nudged Dalia's hand, and she started pushing, stretching her little hole. "What are you doing now?" Dalia closed her eyes and shook her head, but Matt grabbed her nipple and twisted it hard. "Answer me."

The sharp pain blended with the humiliating pleasure that filled Dalia's body. She could barely breathe, like her body was on the edge of a bottomless cliff, holding on to the thinnest of hopes while deep down she knew she was doomed to fall. "I'm fucking my ass."

"Do you like having your ass fucked?"

"Yes."

"Do you play with your ass when you're alone?"

A tear rolled down Dalia's cheek when she pushed through her resistance, and the carrot slipped into her ass. It was cold and hard, but feeling it inside of her sent a blast of humiliating pleasure through her body. She wanted none of this, but she had no power to stop it. "Yes."

"So you're an ass slut?"

"Yes."

"A three hole fuck toy."

"Yes."

"Maybe there's hope for you." Matt let go of Dalia and both his hands slipped down her body. He pulled her dress up so she could see her pussy in perfect detail. "Fuck your ass until you come with that huge thing up your asshole."

"Please no."

"You don't get to choose, slut. Get your hands moving or I'll fuck you tonight and mail Rich my evidence tomorrow."

"Please."

"Last chance, slut."

Dalia's resistance crumbled, and a heavy sense of shame settled over her as she drove the carrot deeper inside of her asshole. It felt amazing, just what her body was starved for. Her hands sped up, and she wanted to close her eyes, wanted to erase her own ecstatic face from her memory, but it wasn't allowed. The tears running down her cheeks were all the proof of resistance she had.

She moaned when Matt teased her pussy, running his strong fingers along her thighs before slipping inside of her for the briefest moment, as if he knew how little she needed to topple over the edge of the most shameful orgasm of her life. Dalia pumped her ass harder, desperate to end the torment, to let her body explode so the pleasure could take over, and she wouldn't have to face herself anymore, but Matt didn't allow it. He dragged her punishment out with endless patience.

Dalia had given up hope when Matt pushed her over the edge, and a bomb exploded inside of her, tearing the breath from her lungs as the intense pleasure overwhelmed her. She'd have fallen over if it wasn't for Matt holding her, her body shaking, her mind wiped clear of anything even resembling a thought. She couldn't scream, her throat could only choke out sounds as her climax sapped her of every last ounce of strength she had.

When it finally passed, Dalia slumped to the floor and Matt laid her out on the soft rug. He undid her shackles and carefully pulled the carrot from her ass so he could throw it away. He left her in her own little sea of ecstasy, aimlessly drifting until she regained her senses, and the truth of what happened came crashing down on her.

***

A soft tap to her cheek pulled Dalia from her bliss, and she opened her bleary eyes to see Matt crouched next to her. "It's not over."

"Matt, I can't."

"Yes, you can. You said it yourself, you're a fuck toy, don't act like you're anything else. Get on your knees." Dalia obeyed and got in position, her wrists crossed behind her back. Matt smiled and caressed her cheek. "Good slut."

He took a marker from his pocket and popped the cap off. Dalia's heart thumped as the marker neared her, goose bumps covering her skin. Please no. The felt tip marked the skin of her fat tits. She didn't want to know what humiliating message decorated her now.

Matt put the marker away and nodded to himself. "That looks good on you." He took Dalia's smartphone from his pocket and said, "What's the code?"

"Why?"

"I want you to have a souvenir, tell me."

"4853."

Matt typed in the numbers and smiled when he got through. He undid his pants and pulled out his thick cock. Dalia swallowed when she saw it, and a shiver went through her when it bumped her big tits. "Look down, slut."

Dalia forced herself to look down and read the words written on her tits. Fuck slut. Her pussy clenched when the words hit her, and a heavy shame fell over. Hadn't he done enough? Why did he have to push her so hard and force her to see things she didn't want to admit?