Slut-2-Fuck Ch. 03

*** *** ***

Q7. Fucking? Of course (but protected) Anal? Yes (but protected). Oral? Yes (without protection). Deep throat? Yes. Cum in mouth? Always. Facials? Yes Facesitting? Yes .Anal worship and rimming? Yes (encouraged). Foot worship? Yes. Spanking / caning? Yes (limited, mild) Watersports? Yes Hardsports? Yes (limited and always below neck) Vibrators? Yes. Speculum / Medical play? Yes. Enema play? Yes Food play and insertion? Yes. Verbal Humiliation? Yes (unlimited) Nettles? Yes Hot wax? Yes. Hot peppers? Yes Basically, if you can think of it, the Slut can provide it.

*** *** ***

Of course, she made Chris work for his own release.

Sam watched a re-run of Laura rimming the old guy while Chris licked her own, rather nicer bottom. Occasionally, she froze the action to send a 10 x 8 inch colour glossy to the printer. And to get Chris to turn his head a second so she could point it out to him.

"Look." She cooed. "You can really sense the guy's having a great time, can't you?"

She studied the mixture of emotions on Chris's face.

"Yeah."

She reached out and ran her toe along the underside of his firm shaft. He was kneeling by her feet.

"Don't be jealous." She warned. "Or do you want to go back to your boring, vanilla Mr and Mrs Dull life again?"

His brown eyes dropped to the floor.

"N ... no."

She put her finger under his chin and turned his face to hers.

"Don't worry. Your wife isn't doing anything she doesn't want to. And nor are you. Nor is any one of us."

He nodded, the twinge of guilt extinguished from his eyes. All she could see now in them was his submission and desperation.

Sam lay back into the same sofa that featured in the movie. She spread her legs as wide as she could, her ankles straddling the arms of the sofa, so that Chris's tongue could get right up her poop chute while his nose nudged her clit.

She kept up a running commentary for his benefit. It wasn't a hot movie in the conventional sense. The lighting was shadowy, the camera angle was poor. Most of all, the male star was plump, perspiring and his face was puckered with exertion. But to Sam it was the most erotic porn she'd ever watched.

"I love this bit. I could watch it over and over. Oh Chris. Mmm."

The close up of Laura's mouth as they both came was the best moment. Her smudged red lipstick, her pearly white teeth, gasping in fake orgasm. "Yessss."

Sam tugged his hair to drag his nose a couple of inches inside her vagina. She pushed the tip to her G-spot and felt her body explode into molten liquid.

"Aaa ... hhh .... hhh ... aaaagh."

*** *** ***

"It's the chair leg, or not at all."

Chris shut his eyes. He had just given Sam the biggest orgasm he'd ever given any woman in his life. She had gushed a geyser all over his face. The clear sticky fluid still covered his hair, cheeks and chin.

And now she was telling him to hump a piece of wood.

But he was desperate to cum. He never knew when the next opportunity might be. Sometimes it was only a few days, other times it was weeks.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

He took up a position like a dog cocking its leg, and rubbed his erection against the wooden leg of the chair. It was awkward, and humiliating, but it felt good to be touching his cock against something. He chafed it again.

"Hurry up."

Sam was still lying on the sofa naked watching him. She was on her side, with her head propped up on a cushion. She looked like some kind of feline animal, a lioness perhaps. Her yellow hair was spiky. Her new boobs stuck out like those of a pneumatic porn star.

He humped the hard wood again. Slowly, he built up an embarrassed rhythm.

Was this better than nothing?

He gritted his teeth. It seemed so unjust. He'd given her something really special and this was his reward.

The doorbell rang.

He glanced at Sam. She seemed as surprised as he was.

"Ignore it." She said. "It'll go away. Carry on."

He resumed his self conscious tempo.

It rang again.

She got up, naked. "Don't stop. And no using your hands."

He heard her calling out through the letter box. "Who is it?"

A male voice. Murmurs. Laughter. The sliding chain. Door opening.

"It's okay." She said, walking back into the room. "It's only Tim."

Chris crouched frozen in position, like a deer in headlights.

"Carry on." Sam snapped impatiently, sitting back down on the sofa. Tim entered, wobbling slightly, obviously slightly the worse for alcohol.

Dying with shame, Chris rocked against the chair leg, bouncing his throbbing shaft into the hard surface.

Could he really cum like this?

"Fuck me!" Tim laughed, slumping down on the sofa next to Sam.

He did his best to ignore them, masturbating himself with timber.

"No." Sam said sharply, pawing Tim away. Her drunken friend had obviously come round after failing to pull anyone at the pub.

"Come on." Tim slurred.

"You know what I said." Sam replied. "Go upstairs. You can fuck the slut."

Chris gasped. He was going to cum. Somehow. He jerked so that he could get a slightly better angle against the chair leg.

He heard Tim staggering up off the sofa. "Alright then." His voice sounded unimpressed, like he'd just been told to use an outside toilet.

"What are you looking at, wimp?"

Chris snatched his eyes away and humped the leg as hard as he could.

Sam chuckled and pushed Tim towards the staircase.

"Her door is locked. The key's on the ledge. Have fun."

Chris heard Tim's uneven steps start mounting the stairs.

"And if you fuck her ass, use a condom!" Sam shouted after him.

She sighed at Chris with irritation . "You've got thirty seconds."

Somehow, someway, he got enough friction to trigger his orgasm. He shuddered as his cock pulsed and released a single squirt of semen over the chair leg and floor. He whimpered and tried to rub again so he could get some follow through. But he failed and his dick just skipped about in the air unsatisfied.

"That looks fun." Sam commented dryly. "Now. Stay there. Don't move."

Chris was still frozen in the same position fifteen minutes later when Sam pushed Tim out of the front door into the night. There was a small puddle of semen under Chris that had oozed very slowly out of his now flaccid dick.

Meanwhile, it was clear from their brief conversation that Tim had taken up the invite to fuck Laura's bottom and, as he was leaving, he draped the used condom across Chris's hunched, naked back.

"Okay." Sam said, after locking the front door. "Get your head down and lick up that mess you made."

*** *** ***

Q8. Are there any limits on Slut-2-Fuck's use?

A8. Slut-2-Fuck is being trained to accept sexual use with virtually no limits (within the law). However, Slut-2-Fuck is not a painslut and only modest amounts of physical punishment are allowed. Her Mistress's decision is always final. Mistress is open to all your suggestions. Please email or message your requirements or ideas.

*** *** ***

"How many different men do you think you've fucked now?"

Several weeks had passed. Sam was thrilled with progress. Laura was on all fours scrubbing the floor with a nail brush and soapy water. She was dressed in punishment high heels, fishnets, suspender belt and a PVC apron.

"Twenty five?" Laura replied, after a moment's embarrassed hesitation.

Sam nodded nonchalantly, looking back at the screen. She didn't even know herself, though she could probably work it out. Twenty five sounded low. The thing was Laura had been blindfolded for many of them, so she didn't know how many were repeat customers and how many had been new ones.

But now things had moved on and nowadays Laura mostly got to see the faces and bodies of her visitors. She had even been allowed to look at her own Adult Work profile and the new photographs that featured her. Full face, no photoshop or blurring. She had even seen her own pricelist and the extensive array of services she was now prepared to provide.

However, Sam completely controlled her account. Laura didn't even know her own password. All negotiations and discussions were handled solely by Sam. And all payments – or 'tributes' as they were labelled – were handed over to Sam, in cash, on arrival.

"I doubt it's that many." Sam replied a minute or so later. "Really?"

Laura kept scouring the floor. "I think so. Maybe more."

"Phew. You could be right. Fuck, that's quite a few in such a short time."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"To think you'd only fucked Chris when I met you."

Laura nodded. Sam knew there wasn't much she could say.

"Chris could divorce you for infidelity, you know?"

Laura's green eyes widened in shock.

Sam laughed. "Only joking. And after all, he's been fucking me too."

Barely a day went by when Slut-2-Fuck didn't generate several hundred pounds or more. Her budding reputation in the punter community and her proximity to London, with its 10 million-plus population, provided a huge market. But men from a radius of over 200 miles had already made the journey to try her out. Guys loved the kink-factor provided by Sam's presence and the fact that Laura had a dominant female pimp.

Twice a day, Sam checked Laura's in-box. Of course, there were timewasters and she was selective about bookings to accept. She used the ratings of punters to check them out and developed a nose for the really weird and wacky ones.

"Oh that's fun." Sam giggled one morning.

The inevitable had happened. Somebody who knew Laura had stumbled across her profile. Well, actually, he knew Chris, but he'd met Laura too. He'd even been to their wedding eight years earlier.

His name was Steve and he wanted to book her!

After an interesting exchange of messages, Sam arranged to meet Steve in a coffee shop. He lived about half an hour's drive away. She liked the sound of him and knew that he offered a special opportunity to ramp things up another notch. Of course, at this stage, Laura knew nothing about him.

Steve was everything she'd hoped. He looked even better than he sounded. Handsome, 28 yrs old, muscled. He bought them both cappuccinos and they sat at a quiet corner table.

"So." She said to him. "Nice to put a face to the name."

He grinned. "Equally."

"And such a nice face." She flirted.

He blushed. "I've never done this before you know. I was just surfing."

"Sure."

His eyes were brown, like Chris's. But the similarities stopped there. Whereas Chris was handsome, a cute Clark Kent with caramel hair, Steve looked hard, dark and faintly villainous. He was quirky good looking, not Hollywood poster boy.

"You've known Chris since you were seven?"

He nodded. "First day together at school."

"And he's a good mate?"

"Yeah. Used to be. One of the best."

"But you still want to fuck his wife?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely!"

Sam arched an eyebrow at his frankness. She smiled into his deadpan brown eyes. "Because she's a babe?"

He shook his head. "Not just that."

She waited while he paused. He was wearing a nice shirt, a jacket and jeans. Tastefully but not expensively dressed. His teeth were nice and white.

"Look." He continued. "I like Chris. And that will make it better for me. I remember when they met. He was so besotted with Laura. We were young and all of us wanted him to just fuck her and move on. But he married her instead."

He sipped his coffee, peering at her over the top of his cup.

"I rarely see him nowadays. And now I know why!"

Sam blew on the froth to cool her own cappuccino.

"You don't know the half of it yet!" She smiled encouragingly. "Will Chris hate it if you fuck Laura?"

"I expect so." Steve shrugged. "But then, it sounds like he's into that."

"What do you do?"

"Me? Job-wise?" Steve made a face. "Not much. I'm afraid that me and the word career don't belong in the same sentence. I do a bit of this and that."

Sam waved her hand dismissively. "I'm the same. Do you have money to pay?"

Steve tapped his jacket pocket. "Enough for an hour with Laura."

She winked at him. "No. I've got a better idea."

*** *** ***

Q9. Is oral sex always without condoms?

A9. Yes, always. For your pleasure, Slut-2-Fuck is not permitted the use of condoms for oral sex. Provided you are clean, she will suck any visitor to completion, gargle and swallow. If you prefer to use a condom yourself, that's fine, in which case she will drink the contents after you have used it. It is an important principle of her training that, before her retirement, Slut-2-Fuck will have tasted and swallowed as much different semen as possible. Condoms however are required for all penetrative acts in her other holes.

*** *** ***

In many ways, Laura preferred being blindfolded. She could focus on her feelings, her fantasies, and almost pretend it wasn't real. And most of the men that Sam hooked her up with weren't exactly oil paintings.

"You have a nice young visitor today." Sam's voice said.

Laura knelt on the rug unable to see. She was hooded and dressed in just a quarter-cup bra and a thong. The bra was only a C-cup and her tits spilled out of it. The thong was a size too small as well and the back of it dug deep into her ass crack.

"He'll start with one of your best blowjobs."

Laura reached out blind, fumbled skilfully with his belt and zip. She'd done this quite a few times now, undressing a man in the dark.

"Mmm." His deep voice murmured. "Lick my balls, Laura."

Most men didn't use her real name. A few did. But most called her slut and other rude names like whore, bitch and cunt. Some didn't speak to her at all.

She licked his heavy sac, tasting salt where his thigh met his scrotum.

"Your mistress tells me you're married, Laura?"

"Mmm." She replied.

"His name is Chris?"

"Mmm."

His fingers were on the hood, directing her mouth. She felt him turning round.

"Lick my asshole, Laura."

Why did so many men want their arses kissed? She slipped her tongue in between his cheeks. At least he tasted dry. Some were moist or worse.

"Do you lick Chris's asshole?"

"Nnggo." She replied.

Again, why did some men fixate on the fact she was married?

Laura heard Sam's voice from the corner of the room, where she usually sat.

"Deeper."

She pushed her face further into the man's behind and stuck out her tongue.

*** *** ***

"Hello Mum."

Chris answered his mobile quietly. He'd seen from the screen it was her. Personal calls at work weren't allowed except for emergencies.

"What do you want mum, I'm at the office."

His parents were separated. His dad had run off with a woman even older than his mum. Why would you do that? Leave home for a saggy-titted neighbour with four kids? Chris could understand it more if his loser dad had left them to shack up with some tight-pussied babe in her twenties.

"I want to see you."

His mum lived on her own in a cottage 250 miles away. She was lonely. Chris felt guilty. He and Laura hadn't visited her since ... well, since Sam.

"Yeah. Sorry mum. I've been busy. We'll come down soon."

She seemed grateful for that. They talked a bit more.

"And how's Laura?"

He glanced round the office. His boss was watching him.

"She's okay too, mum."

"And she's busy?"

"Yeah, mum. She's super busy."

*** *** ***

Sam adjusted the view to zoom in a little.

She wanted Steve's face in the shot. Close up.

Unmistakeable.

He was fucking Laura in the doggy position on the floor. In, out. In, out. Pounding into her like a Rottweiler slamming its bitch. He had tugged off her bra and her tits were hanging down under her, rocking and rolling.

She had two cameras going. She had spent a little of her growing stash on a new digital and tripod. It was mounted behind Steve's muscular butt, low down at an angle so his balls were in shot. It had recorded the moment of penetration. She'd made an exception and Steve wasn't wearing protection. Condoms didn't fit with Sam's plans!

She had mixed feelings. Everything was going perfectly. But a small part of her was envious. She hadn't fancied any guy in ages like she did Steve. And here she was watching him fuck another woman.

At least he was clean. He'd taken one of those quickie STD tests and come up fine. And she'd noticed his dick was a whopper. She couldn't help but admire his stamina and technique too.

Laura wasn't faking it this time. She shrieked in a noisy climax.

He glanced over at Sam and smiled. Then Steve winked at the camera lens.

"Oh Laura." He grunted, slamming hard into her. "And Chris."

Sam couldn't help clenching her fist in triumph. She could only imagine what this would do to Laura and especially Chris. True humility is learned by degrees. Watching somebody you've known for twenty years, man and boy, fuck your woman, requires you to develop genuine humbleness. A boy you sat next to in class, played sport with, drank and puffed cigarettes with, competed with growing up, and now he's blowing his load in your wife's cunt.

Sam watched Steve raise his head and shudder in conquest.

*** *** ***

Q10. How 'clean' do I have to be?

A10. Well, you do not have to bathe immediately before a session! On the contrary, Slut-2-Fuck is required to be considerably less fussy than a woman you might meet in a pub or club. Nevertheless, if only as a courtesy to other users of her mouth, penises should be disease-free and washed under foreskins. Bottoms must be wiped. The Mistress requires that you do not smell. Toilet facilities are available. Full bathroom and shower facilities may only be used with prior arrangement.

*** *** ***

The unsigned property deeds and mortgage documents lay on the table.

Instead of everything being 50:50, as they had been when Laura worked, the house and mortgage would soon be 100 per cent in Chris's name. The new arrangement assigned Laura's individual half share of their net worth over to him permanently.

Of course, she would still be his wife so not much would change really.

Sam was leaning over the new punter's shoulder as he dabbed Tabasco sauce onto Laura's clit. She howled in anguish and tried to get up, slamming her spine back on the mattress in frustration trying to disperse the searing sting.

"Wow!" Sam said, admiringly.

Joe grinned. He was into Bdsm play. He had made a 300-mile day trip to 'play' with Slut-2-Fuck. Not many tarts accept a spicing with hot sauce.

He tilted the bottle again and drizzled some red drops onto the bottle neck. Then he pushed the top of the small red bottle into Laura's puckered anus.

It was fascinating. She bucked and hissed and would have hollered the house down if it weren't for the bright red ball strapped in her mouth. Instead, all she could manage was indignant mewling and frothing into the gag.

Next Joe produced a thick red candle from his suitcase. He looked like a travelling salesman; ordinary-looking, middle aged, nondescript. His name wasn't really Joe as far as she knew, but that's what she thought of him as. It amazed Sam how such average looking Joes could hide such kinky minds.

He took a cigarette lighter from his pocket and lit the wick. He had pre-agreed with Sam that he'd use a paraffin pillar candle that burned hot, but not too hot. Laura could see the flickering flame and she was hopping mad, wide eyed and dripping with perspiration.

The 'scene' they were playing was a torture role-play. The punter and Sam were persuading Laura to confess. All she had to do to end the session was to sign her admission of guilt, whenever she couldn't take any more.

Like a safe word.

"Be a brave girl." Sam encouraged.

He waited until the wax was liquid, then reached out and tipped a red blob onto Laura's stomach from three foot above her. It landed like a cherry tomato hitting concrete, splattered and set instantaneously onto her skin.

Laura hissed into the gag, her expression betraying relief it wasn't hotter.