Grooming a Whore Ch. 06

I despise myself. I have allowed myself to get carried away and done some despicable things. I hardly recognise who I am anymore. How could I have let things get this far? I am resolved to tell Will that I can't entertain his friends at my home anymore. It is hot but it's not right. It sickens me that I can whore myself in my own home but it is worth it when I report back to Will all about my adventures.

It is as though someone else has wandered into my body and taken me over. How else can I explain how what was until so recently important to me: my home and my relationship with my husband now makes my mouth fill with ash? I am too ashamed to tell Colin what I have been doing, yet I crave to show off my body. My 'normal' clothes keep me in a state of frustration. I can't wait to slip into my alter-ego. I do lead a double life for when I'm with Colin I feel foul and deceitful and I'd better get my act together; yet when I think of giving up Will and settling down I feel claustrophobic, trapped, I can't breathe. I cannot give up on my new high octane life.

"Where were you the other night when you didn't come home?" It's a difficult subject for both of us, as neither of us know where it will lead.

"I told you I was out with the girls. We just went to a bar and it got late. So I stayed over." I can see he doesn't believe me.

"You've never done that before." What can I say to head him off?

"Well I just needed sometime away." It trails there in the air, floating like an unpleasant odour in the room that repulses both of us. I can see the uncertainty in his eyes and yet he doesn't push it. When we are together I feel so guilty and resentful towards Colin and there is an awful part of me that delights in seeing his uncertainty, his insecurity. I think he has taken me for granted for too long.

We are both reticent to acknowledge our marriage is struggling because for me there is nothing on the other side of that. Will has not said anything about me leaving Colin and I am not sure he is ready to take me in. He has not said anything about our future and I am not sure whether it would be too pushy of me to ask him, although I do let him know how frustrated I am in my marriage. As for Colin, I think he is just afraid to admit the problems between us, as he doesn't know how to fix them.

The weekends are a struggle for me as I long for Will to call round. I am certain that if he showed up he would fuck me right in front of Colin and I'd let him. I seem to have no shame, I am consumed by Will, but I am not so sure whether I love him now in the way I did. My feelings are confused. I am tormented by my desires and feel revulsion for what I do to appease them. Being with Will is my release. I feel good around him, off balance. I love to dangle helplessly on the end of his chain waiting for him to contact me. When he is not with me, the whore inside me is on hold. She has become such a dominant force in my life that when she is not satisfied she leaves me no pleasure in anything.

But our home now is not a refuge but a torment. I have tainted every corner of it and it haunts me. I sit opposite Colin eating our meals at the table and stare at the polished wood and myself sprawled across it, Will fucking me hard his cum splattering over the pristine, house-proud surface. It disgusts me that I am capable of that and I irrationally blame Colin. I know it is not fair, but it is the only way I find to deal with it. I snap at him and make his life a misery.

Through the day I think about going to bed and lying next to Colin where I have invited in so many strangers. I am confounded by images of being used me over and again, and under the clean sheets on which we sleep lurks the dark stains that I cannot get out of the mattress. I am kept on edge, both aroused and disgusted - it is becoming a familiar contradiction for me.

I wonder whether the neighbours have noticed. I wonder what Colin would think if he found out. I feel so bad, unclean around him. I hate this and would do anything to escape these feelings. I just need to cum and while I masturbate in the toilet I can escape for a while my torment.

On Sunday Colin goes off to the golf club. I think he must find the atmosphere at home choking too. My words are abrupt, critical and laced with anger. Colin is just the same. We don't talk about what we need to talk about, but lace our everyday lives with the vinegar of our anger. In our roundabout way we blame each other for our failing relationship, and yet I know he is more in the right than I am. I have done terrible things to him and this just fuels my vitriol towards him all the more.

The moment he has driven off down the road I exhale with relief, I feel free. I rush upstairs and dig out my whoring clothes. I stare at myself in the mirror, so hot, so sensual. I want Will to be there to see me. I can see a whore before me, I know how this makes me look and yet I feel less fake. I have become a different person, not afraid to express my own sexuality, flaunt my body. I have bought a very small tight pair of hot pants in a bright blue colour. There are two tiny little pockets at the back, but it is so tight it is impossible to feed my fingers into them. The sweeping curve of my ass looks so hot as I stand with my back to the mirror and look at them. I can see the erotic way the seam sweeps down the line of my ass crack and disappears between my legs. I follow it with my finger imagining how it will look in the booth this week, and I press my finger where my asshole is and recall Will pushing his finger in as I described to him how the punter finger fucked me. I have a pair of boots, a deeper blue with heels and platforms. They tilt my ass deliciously. I turn round and look at my crotch fit snugly inside the tight material. Although I have always been brought up to think of a whore as someone to look down on, I know many girls do, yet I actually think I like being a whore.

The following day Colin heads off to work and I try to call Will. We have to talk, I have to stop him sending more guys to the house. I love dressing this way for him, and for the guys at the booth, but in my home it is becoming too real. Will does not pick up and with sinking heart I hear the doorbell go. My first punter arrives and I try to tell him I am not working but he starts to make a scene and I am afraid of attention being drawn to what is going on so I invite him in. Once inside he doesn't take no for an answer. What can I do? If I argue with him I will just rob myself of the opportunity to call Will and the next punter will be here.

I lead him upstairs and tell myself that as soon as I can get through to Will then I won't need to do this any more. Once we are on the bed then it is business as usual and there is something delicious about being cornered, forced to take a step back and let the whore take over our bedroom. I know I will feel guilty, I already do, but that just adds to the occasion.

More punters arrive at the house and still I cannot get through to Will. My weak attempts to put them off are swept aside by one guy who throws his money down and grabs my clothes tearing them on my body. He is angry and demands sex from me. He shows me that actually I do not have a choice. He fucks me in our hall, sprawled across the carpet, ramming his cock hard and fast into my asshole. I make a lot of noise as the guy on top of me forces his way in. I don't feel hot or aroused by him, although his brutality melts something in me. It is all an act. Will told me that it doesn't matter whether I cum or not but the punters want to believe I cum hard as they fuck me. I know it makes them feel better so I pretend for the guy on top of me. I have acquired a taste for rough sex and before long I realise it is not all an act.

All the while I am thinking about telling Will of my exploits, telling him each and every one of my dirty little adventures while he makes me cum. The sensible me that was desperate to end this is being washed away by the sperm of the punters erupting inside me protected only by the ever so thin rubber of a condom. It makes me so hot being a whore. I know my real fear is losing myself entirely to the whore.

After that I stop any attempt to try and put off the punters and submit myself to being Will's whore. I store up details of the visits of each punter excited to tell Will later. The first I know there is a problem is when the bedroom door swings open while one of the punters is buried deep inside my cunt. My legs are wrapped around his back and I am groaning and panting dutifully. I am so shocked that we are not alone, my stomach lurches and my heart leaps into my mouth. At first I think I must have left the front door open and the next punter has arrived early. I worry that I messed up and how Will is going to react. Still groaning and roaming my hands over the chest of the big guy pounding me I try to see over his shoulder. To my horror I see Colin standing at the door staring in disbelief at my naked body entwined with a stranger, his body draped between my legs, his hips pistoning in and out of me on our bed. My heart squeezes painfully tight in my chest. I immediately stop my moaning and try to push the punter off me. He still hasn't realised what has just happened and he keeps fucking me as I stare helplessly at Colin from under his bulk.

Colin clears his throat to let him know he is there. The guy hesitates and turns around. Seeing my husband he assumes he is just another punter.

"Wait your turn. I ain't finished yet."

"Can you leave my house. I have to talk to my wife." Colin's voice is stern but I can hear the shake in it.

That got his attention. He stops fucking me and stares into my face, his cock still buried to the hilt inside me. He must have seen the terror there and realised the truth. I cannot imagine what he thought of me: a wife who whored herself out in her own family home. I felt sick in the stomach. What could I say? I had been caught red-handed. He pulls himself off me and picks up his clothes and drops the notes on the end of the bed. He stares at me with disdain; paying me in front of my husband just reinforcing his contempt for me. He leaves the room without a word either to me or to Colin. Worse still, he shows no sign of remorse or guilt. As he passes Colin in the doorway he grins and walks calmly out.

Colin slumps down in the chair as I sweep up the sheets to cover my nakedness. I am ashamed of my nakedness in front of my husband, and yet think nothing of stripping in front of strangers. I just stare at him. I can't think of anything to say, anything that could make this look any less bad.

"You know I just couldn't believe it when Mrs Jameson rang me at work to tell me you had had several male visitors to the house of late and she wondered what kind of entertaining you were doing. She sounded rather apologetic, I don't think she could believe it either when she first got the anonymous tip off. But then she started watching the house and could see for herself. As I drove over here I thought she was a busy-body and was already preparing to give her a piece of my mind."

He pauses and waits to see what I might say in my defence. But I keep quiet, looking down afraid of what will come next. I know anything I might say would just infuriate him further. Then his anger bursts.

"God Judy!! I can't believe you!" He gets up and paces up and down to relieve some of his nervous energy.

"You didn't even try to be discrete. You just don't seem to care what the whole neighbourhood thinks, or how your antics reflect upon me."

He stands up and walks over towards me. I am sure he is going to hit me, but he picks up my discarded skirt. It is one of my tiny and flimsy mini-skirts and it has a stain on it. A previous punter had pushed me over onto it as soon as I had slipped the condom over him and he had fucked me while it had remained crumpled up underneath me. I felt awful as I watched him pick up the crumpled garment gingerly and stare at it with horror.

"I don't understand... You mean you like degrading yourself in these clothes? Are you some kind of a slut? I don't know what has got into you. You prefer this to a proper decent relationship?"

He starts pacing the room again as if he might explode if he stays still for too long. I look at him from the corner of my downturned eye. I am so scared right now.

"All you seem to think about is yourself. You don't care how hard I have worked to provide for us and to progress my career that we may live in more comfort and do those things we want. All this while you have been laughing at me when I am out, prostituting yourself here in our home, gorging yourself in your own sordid appetites. You are a shameless harlot."

I take it all, I deserve it, every last drop. I hate myself for what I have done. He notices the pile of money left by the bed for my services.

"You... You..." he is running out of words to express his indignation, taken over by his anger. I feel the pit of my stomach drop several storeys. I can find nothing to make any of it better. I deserve all the recrimination he throws at me and a lot more. He is too polite to tell me what I really am. He looks up and turns his head round to look at me, as if he has made some decision.

"Well you can get out of this house. Collect your trash and leave now. You don't deserve me, or the things I provide for you. You can clear out and feed your filthy appetites somewhere else!"

A sob heaves in my chest as I look down afraid to meet his eyes. Of course he is right to be angry, and of course he is right I hadn't thought about him at all in what I was doing. I am worthless and undeserving of him.

"I am so sorry," I whisper.

"I think we are passed that now." He looked at the bed and the dishevelled sheets. There were stains on them where the condoms had slipped off or split and poured their contents into a little puddles. Incongruously as I follow his eyes I think to myself, 'Yes but I was going to change them.'

"I won't be able to sleep here again. I will get the bed thrown out. In the meantime I will have to use the spare room."

Colin could be so practical when he found the situation too difficult to deal with. As a rule he never expressed his anger and I recognise he is struggling to cope. He looks up,

"I thought you were having an affair. I thought this might pass. I don't know what has got into you? I really don't. I don't know who you are anymore!" His words stung me, as I understood fully why he said them. I didn't really know who I was any more either.

"You are too controlling, Colin. This would never have happened if you hadn't dictated so much of my life! I couldn't even buy my own clothes without your approval!" I am angry and scared at losing my home. I have to hold on to that anger amid my shame. I know I am a slut, but it's not just about me. I watch his face darken. He strides across the room and grabs my left arm. His grip it tight like a steel band pinching my flesh. His face draws up close to mine.

"I was the one out there trying to build a successful career, to provide for you and make our home. If I am to succeed in commerce I need a wife who is attractive, sophisticated, knows how to handle herself and can be diplomatic." He stops, his eyes darting left and right as he tries to see through the window of mine to divine some response in me. But the shutters are down. Inside I am blaming myself for everything and I can't let him see that. He looks down.

"You...what do you aspire to?" He flings me back and I land heavily on the bed. The fight is knocked out of me. He has all the answers and yet still can't see what I feel. He stands over me watching my face intently. When I do not respond, he says with a sigh and with finality,

"You have half an hour to collect what you want and then you are out. I don't want to see you again."

"Where will I go?" I cry plaintively, like a stupid little told off schoolgirl. His expression turns to stone.

"I don't really give a damn. The gutter is where you are headed, but maybe one of your visitors can put you up. I'm sure you will find a way to pay him for your keep." With a grim smile he leaves the room. I can see he is shaking.

I am completely thrown. It was awful being naked in front of him in that mood and all the incriminating evidence strewn around the room shouting louder than anything I could say in my defence. Truth is that I have no defence. I feel completely wretched and I blame myself for all that I have done. I find it hard to think, hard to take in my life has just collapsed. I thought I would be happy to leave Colin, now I feel sick. I can't think straight, can't put together a string of thoughts on what I need to take with me or what I should do. I need Will. I need him now more than ever. I dig out my mobile from my bag and call him. Finally he answers.

"Colin just found me whoring and has kicked me out the house." I wail down the line to him. He is a rock. He doesn't seem surprised or phased by what has happened and moves swiftly into action.

"I'll come right over and pick you up."

Knowing that he cares and doesn't abandon me too makes me feel so much better. I pick out a carry-all and start to stuff my whore clothes into it. I am not really thinking. I just think of my urgent need to be with Will and needing him to want me. I know he likes to see me in them and at this moment nothing else of mine matters. I tell myself I am not really a whore. I just play that role because I know Will likes it. I know it looks bad, but it really isn't as bad as it looks. It's just our game - Will and me. Colin couldn't possibly understand that.

I cannot think any longer term, the permanent changes happening in my life are too much. I focus upon the next few hours: Will coming to take care of me. I pack for a weekend away and a dirty weekend at that. The doorbell rings and I run down the stairs to find Will standing in the hallway with Colin. He is very controlled and doesn't allow himself to react, show any emotion to what is happening. He looks up at me as I come down the stairs. I am wearing the skirt and top he had discarded on the floor with such disdain. I had no time or thought to change into anything else. He snorts his disapproval and goes into the sitting room. Despite his air of indifference, I know he can't bear to be there when I leave with Will. He is hurting and it is my fault.

"You ready?" Will smiles and hugs me. He takes the carry-all from me and leads me out to his car. Once inside the car I turn on him,

"You've turned me into a real slut. Now I've been thrown out of my own home!"

He looks at me and smiles kindly and then smooths back my hair. He hugs me so tight and lets me sob into his chest for a while. I suddenly think of Mrs Jameson, the busy-body watching from behind her curtains and pull myself together.

"We'd better go." I pull down the mirror and study my makeup.

I want to cry much longer but not in front of the neighbours, not with Colin possibly watching from inside the house. I need to get away, somewhere private, somewhere that is just Will and me. He turns and starts the engine and drives me to his flat. I lie with my head in his lap as he sits on his couch and caresses my head. He is so gentle, so soothing. I keep going over and over what has happened, replaying it as if I had missed some vital clue, as if it might mean something different, less appalling if I only saw it right.

"Are you disappointed in me?" I ask turning to him. The question has been on my mind for some time, but only now do I feel brave enough to ask it. He laughs,

"Not at all! It was a very difficult situation and you handled it well. It could have turned out a lot worse, but it didn't. You did just fine."

He gets up and brings us some beers from the fridge. We talk now about nothing, anything other than what has happened. It calms me, normalises me again. I sip at the beer and sniff from time to time. Maybe it is the beer, maybe it is feeling him close, maybe that he cares enough to come and collect me. But then maybe it is my way to escape, to feel good about myself. I start to kiss him, nuzzling up against his neck. He hugs me in his big bear arms and he starts running his hands up and down my body. It feels so good. I need him inside me and feel the urgency. I slip onto my knees on the floor and unzip his trousers. I pull his cock out and start licking and slurping around it until it is hard. Then I open my mouth and take him into my throat. I want to make this good for him. I want him to know I would do anything for him. I suck and lick, but I cannot hold him in my throat without gagging.