Penance

A calm determination seems to envelop her as she straightens her shoulders, and opens the door. "Here let me show you something," she purrs, taking his hand, and leading him toward her guest room. Stopping at the threshold, she turns to me, and says with a sly wink, "Join us, won't you." Then she turns back to the bewildered young labourer and whispers, "You won't mind, will you?" He just smiles and shrugs.

After everyone gets naked, Stella alternates between us, hands and mouth, getting us both about as hard as possible. Taking on the role of director, I lay her down on her back and get Pete, our young companion, to attend to her boobs, paying special lingual attention to her nipples. Meanwhile I begin earnestly tonguing her clit while probing her pussy and her ass with my fingers. I hesitate for a moment while applying the lube I'd recovered from the nightstand to my fingers, before resuming. As the swirling of her boatman brings Stella closer and closer to climax, I redouble my persistence at her rear rosebud, until, as she orgasms, I insert two fingers into her butt, at depth.

As she descends from the height of her orgasm, I help her to her up on all fours, and swing around to feed her my stiffy. As our visitor is more slender than me, in the penis department, I ask him to stick it in doggie style.

After getting Stella spitted, as it were, I say to Pete, "Okay Bud, how 'bout now you push yourself into her ass?"

Pete grins a big shit-eating grin and sings, "Okey-dokey!"

On hearing this, Stella rears back, pulling off my rod while holding Pete's deep in her box. "No!" she protests, with a note of panic in her voice. "No, don't! I can't! I've never done it that way!"

"Oh come on Stell," I reprimand, "a real slut will take it up the ass just as soon as up the twat! Remember, you committed to this - you're committed to doing the right thing, aren't you?" Giving her a second to process that, I went on. "This is just another one of those lessons - another one of those many experiences." Her complaints lack heart, and rapidly fade to assent. "Here," I say to our young companion, as I toss him the lube from off the nightstand, "use this."

Pete begins to thread himself into Stella's ass, and while she initially complains, gasping and groaning around my meat, as I hold her head firmly impaled, she is surprisingly quick to accept the sodomy - the pain and discomfort apparently not being as bad as she'd expected. Before long we are pounding, once more, into her, end to end.

After a brief rest, I suggest another double teaming format. Young Pete, long and rampant once again, is laid on his back, his flagpole erect. As soon as Stella has settled over him, holding him fully ensconced, I line up and push myself steadily into her anus, until I too am fully ensconced. We begin to rock to a gentle, rhythmic beat, building, in all three of us, a delicious arousal.

Through some trick of the fates, Garth chooses that exact moment to phone, and feeling more than a little mischievous, I direct Stella to answer the call. So there she is, heaving up and down on the gardener, with me sawing away at her butt, trying to have a conversation with her hubby. I guess it is kind of mean of me, but I enjoy her predicament.

We only get her side of the conversation, but Garth has obviously begun by asking her what she was doing. I wonder if he is a little bit suspicious.

"Not much," she replies. "Housework, overseeing the gardener."

"Yeah, he poked his head in for a bit." Ah, interesting. He's apparently asking about me.

"No," she says after a bit. "Nothing." She listens for a time, all the while, rocking on and against our throbbing dicks. Suddenly she almost barks at him, "What? I'm on the phone to you." She pauses, in speaking, as well as in action. "Oh for chrissakes!" She lets out an exasperated sigh, before resuming her rocking ride. "Okay, I'll see you when you get here. 'Bye."

Upon disconnecting, she takes up the task of fucking the two us with a renewed ferocity, receiving our donations in each of her respective receptacles. The gardener thanks us profusely, as we all three clean up and he takes his leave. Stella and I do a quick inspection to assure ourselves that all seems chaste enough, then I leave - leaving Stella to mollify Garth, if necessary.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - X - - - - - - - - - - -

Of course, word gets around through the circles - rumours and facts - so there is much anticipation when I invite the gang around to Stella and Garth's for an impromptu 'party' a week or so later. Not wanting to beat about the bush, I tell Stella this will be her premier gang-bang, and I expect her full cooperation. Garth is working afternoons, so there'll be no need to hold back. As the first 'guests' arrive Stella is a little reluctant, balking somewhat, at the suggestion she greet all comers with a well tongued French kiss, until I remind her that this is the practice needed to master the 'genuine slut' role to which she is aspiring. The kissing thing overcome, she is stopped again, for a moment, at the prospect of shedding some of her clothing in order to get things rolling; however, I am beginning to suspect that some of her reluctance is feigned - just for the effect.

Her reluctance gradually overcome, Stella eventually gets into it, at first offering, then demanding, getting and giving many, many orgasms. She is subjected to repeated double and triple penetrations. The gangbang continues almost frenetically. Those waiting, or recovering, stand around watching, drink in hand, offering encouragement, moving in to feed a turgid cock into her panting mouth, or other available orifice. Stella has become almost obsessive in her desire - or need. Eventually, though, the studs begin to falter - her supply of hard cocks and fresh cum gradually diminishes.

I had early on lost track of who was arriving and departing, but, near the end a cocky young acquaintance arrives with his equally cocky girlfriend.

"Just dropped in to see if she can learn anything new," he chirps, gesturing towards his girlfriend.

"You wish," she says, clobbering him with her bag. "My, my, aren't you just something?" she purrs to Stella, just as she is swallowing the offerings of the anonymous prick in her mouth. "I've heard about you and your - uh, quest? challenge?" Pausing to watch, her face betraying a hint of admiration, she continues, "I see you've become quite the cum-slut!" Pulling away from her boyfriend, she crouches next to Stella's head, as the drained and failing cock steps away. "Would you like to taste Tony's," she asks, adding, "he's delish!" Looking rather bewildered, Stella gives a very slight nod.

"Well, all right, then," the brash girlfriend whispers, huskily, standing up to reach under her tiny skirt and pull her thong off. "I'll share, but I'm a bit possessive, so it'll have to be second hand." A hush descends on the room, as all eyes turn to the novel interaction taking place. Even the cocksman still sawing away in Stella's butt, slows to a stop.

"Tony, get over here," she commands, leaning onto Stella's back for support, and flipping up her skirt. "Fill 'er up!" Looking both baffled and amused, Tony steps up, releasing his sword, and plunges in, pounding his girlfriend's twat violently. It doesn't take him long at all, and, although her breath becomes a little ragged, she doesn't stop chirping at Stella during the entire fuck. "You're gonna love this. Tony's cum is sweeter than syrup. And there's always lots of it!"

After Tony announces, breathlessly, his orgasm - rutting frantically against his girlfriend's upturned ass, she pulls off of him, ignoring him as she turns her laser focus back to Stella. Pulling over a chair to place in front of Stella's face, she sits, knees spread, spreading her dripping pussy-lips with her fingers. Capturing Stella's lost gaze - as the fucker in her ass takes up his rhythm once more - the girlfriend's voice drips with condescension, as she purrs, "You want some of Tony's jism? Come and get it!"

Stella glances to me for guidance - like I know what to do. I nod slightly. Stella turns back to the slick, proffered snatch, tentatively reaching forward with her tongue. "Come on, bitch! Don't be shy! A tastier creampie you're not likely to find!" Raising her arms to support herself on the woman's thighs, Stella closes her eyes and begins. Running her tongue up and down the offered slit, she is vigorously lapping up Tony's goo in no time at all. The sperm donation in her rear goes virtually unnoticed, as she deliberately pauses on every up-sweep to swirl her tongue around the stiff and twitching clitoris.

"That's it, you little cum-sucker! Oh, yeah, that's it!" Gasping as she approaches climax, she keeps up a constant stream of insult. "Oh, yessssss! You're gonna make a great little cunt-licker!"

Someone enters Stella, doggie style, just as the girlfriend grabs Stella by the ears and holds her tight against her pulsating pussy, pushing the remainder of her boyfriend's spend into Stella's frantically swallowing, gasping mouth. And as the girlfriend comes back to earth, and releases Stella from her first ever cunnilingus, there is a little patter of applause, then the surrounding hubbub of conversation and drinks resumes - as if something very, very special had not just occurred.

- - - - - - - - - - - - X - - - - - - - - - - - -

I visit her a couple of times during the next week. The first time I catch her at home, alone. After only moments of meaningless small talk, she turns and heads for the guest room to which she's still exiled, a sultry glance over her shoulder prompts me to follow, post haste! We have a wild and active romp on and around the bed. Stella's participation has become willing, indeed, eager. And if it isn't exactly making love, but it is surely something more special than simply fucking.

Basking in the afterglow, I marvel at how things have changed - are changing. A short while ago I would have described Stella as ordinary; an ordinary person, maybe a little bit boring; with an ordinary body, usually hidden by unflattering clothes; with an ordinary face, framed with dull dishwater blonde hair gathered in an uninspired cut. But whether she has actually changed or it's just a transformation in my perception, she now emanates a 'Wow factor!' Her body is slender without being skinny - lusciously, voluptuous; her ass is round and full without being too big; her bust is large enough to be impressive but small enough to be pert and firm; and her face, accentuated by a tousle of shiny thick honey-brown hair, has acquired a mysterious allure - an edgy wantonness that's visible whether she is made up in slutty excess or 'au naturel'. I watch her as she finally rolls off the bed and reaches for her gown, transfixed by her grace and carnal appeal.

A few days later I meet Max who has been out of town and has just heard about the parties he's missed. He complains that he's only back for a few days, and asks about when Stella might be 'pulling another train'. I start to take exception to the use of the term, but pause. It fits, I s'pose. Fortunately for him, Stella works part time with flexible shifts. I call and get her to agree to take the rest of the afternoon off. She meets us at her place, and, having just come from work, she is dressed suggestively but not full-on tartish.

The instant the door closes behind Max, Stella crouches to fiddle with his fly and release his erection, smiling seductively up at his face. "Let's see what we have to work with." She gives the growing member a quick, deep suck, then hanging on, she stands and tells him he can't come in her mouth until she has had him in her cunt. Her directness surprises us both. She'll suck him off later, if he wants, but only if he can get it up a second time. Following her to her room, he is more than willing.

Max balks a bit when I follow them into the guestroom, but Stella explains that I am her tutor. Eventually we have a very pleasurable threesome, cumming several times each, in a variety of double penetrations. Like most of the gang, Max readily, and surprisingly easily, assumes the role of profligate rake.

During the fifth week of the prescribed period, I conspire to have Stella bang a handful of people from a different circle of acquaintances - strangers to her - in her own house.

The trouble with a quasi-mansion like Garth and Stella's is the naming of all the rooms. The sitting room is different from the parlour, which is different from the living room, which is different, too, from the family room. The activities, this time around, are mainly in the family room where the leather furniture can be cleaned more easily.

A more libertine group you're not likely to meet; hence the evening is filled with all manner of fucking and sucking, with Stella as the star attraction. While there are a few 'supporting twats', the evening remains all Stella's.

Garth, who had been working afternoon shift, comes in at the end, just as the festivities are concluding - the participants leaving. As they pass Garth, standing, flustered, in the foyer, many give him a surly who-are-you? and what-do-you-want? look.

Suddenly, striding purposefully down the hall, he barges into the family room. "I want my wife back!" he announces in a loud voice, oblivious to the fact that hardly anyone present even knows who he is, let alone what he's on about. He says he wants to end the period of penance now, before the six weeks are actually up. Staring at Stella, who is busy on the couch, he proceeds as though nothing's amiss, and his wife is not fucking two strangers in front of him. "You don't have to do this anymore," he whines. "I think we've both made our points. You don't have to finish the six weeks. I'll accept that you are penitent." Garth still wants to be in control, and even now, he still can't see that it has all gone well beyond penance.

Stella is still working the last of the visitors. She nods to Garth, acknowledging having heard him, and raising a finger as a signal for him to wait a sec. Then she turns her attention back to her task - continued sucking and fucking. In short order, she swallows the load from her felatist, before having a final, simultaneous orgasm with the cock pounding her rear.

Partially extricating herself from her current menage, she kneels, sitting back on her heels, with her hands clasp demurely in her lap, and looks bemusedly at Garth. "What if I'm not ready to conclude my penance," she asks, innocently. "What if I'm not yet repentant?"

Garth is speechless. Looking about at her discarded clothes and rising, sylph-like, to her feet, Stella concedes quietly, "We'll see." Stepping out of the chaos, she meanders across the hall to her room - her cell, as it were - and closes the door behind her without so much as a backward glance.

- - - - - - - - - - - - X - - - - - - - - - - - -

But it seems to be only a few days later, Garth comes into the house unexpectedly to find Stella airtight in the living room. She is just one of the focal points of a rather raucous orgy, populated by lechers and debauchees - strangers and so-called friends, alike.

Earlier in the day I told her she had met all the challenges and passed all the tests. She has put in her time, got through the grueling six weeks of penance. So this is to be her graduation - her coming out. This is her formal debut - she is the debutante. She can just let it all go - and enjoy!

Stella is slick and glistening with sweat and cum. On her hands and knees, she is grunting and moaning, actively fucking, three cocks - her mouth, pussy, and ass all filled. And she is just one of several women - hussies and harlots - fully engaged about the room, screwing up a storm. Garth stares wide-eyed.

"Stella!?" He takes a tentative step into the room. I touch his shoulder in friendly warning; holding him back from interfering, forcing him to watch as his wife cums violently and repeatedly, milking each of the guys doing her. Garth begins to cry. He looks at me, helplessly. "I want my wife back!"

I give him a slight, 'what-can-I-do' shrug. Plaintively, he calls again, "Stella?!" She acknowledges him with a sort of mouth-completely-occupied nod, just as the guy in her twat - the one she's riding cowgirl - punches his hips up against her and yells, "Thar she blows!"

Raising her head off her felatee, momentarily, she screams in ecstasy, as an orgasm crashes over her. Then she pops her lips back over the bouncing woodie, and, being pushed abruptly by the guy in her ass, deep-throats it. Unable to last any longer the guy in front grabs Stella's hair and holds her tight as he pulses and gushes deep into her gullet. She fights the urge to gag, and carries on ramming back against her rear invader. Letting go with her mouth, she gasps for breath, then yells, "That's right," looking over her shoulder, "give it to me up my ass. Give me a sperm enema!" She looks over at Garth, apparently saying this for his benefit. The guy in her bum yowls and pushes and cums up her dirt-chute. She pulls off him as he stops pumping.

As her partners extricate themselves and move aside, she flops over onto the floor, spilling cum in puddles on the carpet. Glazed in a post-orgasmic, almost post ictal, trance, and panting heavily, she gradually catches her breath and regains her awareness. Slowly she stands to face Garth, hands on her hips, cum running down her thighs. "Is this slut enough for you?"

Still wide-eyed, he stares at her like she's from another planet; then he whimpers, "I want my wife back."

Stella replies, in a voice loud enough to command the attention of everyone around. "Do you mean the wife who, once, got a bit tipsy at a bar with co-workers, and, with arguably poor judgement, took a harmless pub-night dare?

"The wife that flashed her tits once and got caught on someones phone camera?

"Do you mean the wife you wouldn't listen to when she tried to explain?

"The wife you assumed was regularly showing off her boobs - and whatever else, to whomever?

"And if she's doing that, what else is she up to? Your automatic assumption that your wife's flashing was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Do you mean the wife you right away assumed must be giving away sexual favours?

"Are we talking about the same wife to whom you gave an ultimatum - 'A month of penitence or the marriage is done'? That wife?

"Is this about the wife who went along with your hair-brained idea, because you wouldn't listen to her explanation and she didn't want to lose you?

"The wife who loved you in spite of your old-man, chauvinistic attitudes, and your stick-in-the-mud ways?

"Are we talking about the wife you exiled to the guest room, 'until she got this out of her system'?

"Do you really mean the wife who let you dress her up like a tart and parade her around in front of your so-called friends?

Stella's getting louder, more emotional as she stands, holding Garth frozen with her dark, menacing eyes. I am awed by the strength and rawness of her response. Standing naked, her hair a tousled mess, cum glistening on her cheeks, dribbling down her thighs - she looks positively ravishing! "Do you mean the wife whom you gave over to the care of your libertine friend," she nodded at me, "for her edification or corruption or whatever?"

She stops. Her boobs rise and fall invitingly; she's panting like she's just finished a race. Her allure is unbelievable - oh, yes, she is incredibly attractive!

Then she slumps a little, like the wind has gone out of her, fatigued. "Well," she sighs, then goes on, more softly now, almost sympathetically, "it's too late." A hint of something else tinges her voice - resignation? sorrow? loss? "That woman's gone - consumed. She no longer exists."

She pauses for a moment, then, taking a deep breath, she puts her shoulders back, her chest still heaving. Her voice is stronger, once again. "I don't know if you've created a monster or released a genie, but," suddenly she spread her arms in welcome, staring intently at him, "get over here and stick your cock in me, or get out of the fucking way and let someone else!"