The Show

"You seem a little bored, Steve. Can I buy you another scotch?"

"Yeah, sure. Aberlour. Neat."

Damn right, I was bored. It was my wife's staff party, and the majority of people there were not interested in anything but getting wasted on drugs I had no interest in, or getting so fucking drunk that I couldn't stand being around them. At least Fiona, the manager of the place, seemed as bored as I was, which was OK by me; she was an interesting lady, and also drank scotch. Besides, as usual, Tina, my wife, was nowhere to be seen.

"I always feel like I'm babysitting at these things," Fiona said with a bit of disdain in her voice. "I mean, they're a great staff, and they work their asses off around here, but the last fucking thing I need is a bunch of soap opera shit going on between staff members. Someone gets too loaded, does something stupid with someone equally loaded, and before you know it, I've got pissed off boyfriends storming in and hysterical waitresses running out in the middle of shifts. It's crap that I've dealt with before. Unwelcome crap."

I really liked Fiona. I wondered why she was doing this kind of thing for a living. She was damn good at it; she'd turned a pretty lame operation into a real hot spot in less than a year. No doubt, she was getting paid well for the job she was doing. But she seemed more like a lawyer or an investment banker than a restaurant manager.

"Yeah, I suppose that you don't have the luxury to be anyone's buddy when you are running a place like this, eh? Sort of a 'no consorting between enlisted ranks and officers' scenario, I'd guess."

She looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, her expression a little more serious.

"Yes, and no, actually." Fiona stated as she lit up a Peter Jackson. "Not so much that, it's just that I've got to keep the bullshit out of the business. I can't keep things from happening, but I do my best to keep those things from occurring around here."

A waitress brought us our drinks as Fiona offhandedly asked how things were between Tina and I. It was no real secret that we had an open relationship. If there was any secret about it, it was that the "open" part of it worked in Tina's favor a hell of a lot better than it did towards mine. I honestly didn't give a shit about what or who she did on the side; as a matter of fact, she was a hell of a lot easier to get along with when she was stepping out, even though our own sex life was really, quite good on it's own. Shit side was, that Tina could be a real asshole, out of the blue, if she even saw another woman talking to me. It didn't really matter, though. She had no idea who I'd actually been with, anyway.

"Alright, I guess," I stated flatly as I took a sip of scotch, letting it evaporate off of my tongue as I inhaled it's rich aroma. Fiona looked down at her drink, something being arranged within her thoughts.

"Steve, I'm going to be blunt. I honestly don't know why you are with Tina. You are a smart guy. And a good looking fucker, on top of it, and I'm not saying that to stroke your ego. But let me just run something by you, and then you can feel free to tell me to go fuck myself. Or, that I'm right." Fiona took the last drag of her smoke, and looked me right in the eye as she ground the butt into the ashtray.

"Well, Fiona, you have my attention, so why don't you tell me what's on your mind," I replied. I was intrigued.

"I'll just bet that when you met Tina, she was the filthiest, most perverted bitch you'd ever met. I'll bet that she begged you to do shit to her that you never thought people actually did outside of porno movies. Am I right so far, Steve?"

Dead right. I nodded at Fiona; she had Tina nailed.

"OK, then Steve, I'll bet the next round that she hasn't been the slut that she made herself out to be in a very long while. She probably started making up all kinds of excuses, and started reading all kinds of pseudo-feminist bullshit, and made it seem that you, and the rest of your gender, were somehow responsible for the fact that she begged you to piss in her mouth or fuck her up the ass in a department store changeroom, or some such place."

"Waitress, two more Aberlour, please!" I called out. How the fuck did she know?

Fiona smiled at me, kindly, her body language relieved that she hadn't freaked me out or offended me. She touched my hand, saying, "Would you mind if I called you, Steve? I think that we have a few things in common that we could both enjoy, that is, if you're interested."

"I am," I replied after a brief pause. "Here's my cell number. Give me a call. Sounds like fun."

I was actually quite surprised that Fiona called me only a couple of days after the party. My cell rang at around eleven thirty at night, about ten minutes after Tina had called to say that she was going out clubbing, and she'd be out late. Fiona told me to just come over to her house, but to come around the back entrance. She also suggested that I hurry, as "The Show" was about to begin.

"Show? What are you talking about?" I asked, my curiosity surging.

"You'll see when you get here, Steve. Oh, park around back, OK?"

I parked my car behind her garage and made my way up the unlit path that led to the rear entrance of Fiona's big old house. She met me as I walked up, and she held her index finger over her puckered lips in a silent "shhhhhh", and motioned me inside, then up a flight of stairs to a sun deck on the second floor. She handed me a scotch and invited me to sit down.

"So, what IS this "Show" that's about to start, Fiona?" I asked, rather puzzled by what it could be, and the fact that Fiona was wearing rather girlish looking flannel pyjamas.

She stood and pointed down at her driveway in front of her house. I stood and looked down toward it. Fiona's Honda was parked nearest the house. Tina's Mustang was parked behind it. And behind that, was a big Ford F-350 crew cab, with the name of some oilfield contractor on it.

"What the hell is going on here, Fiona?" I asked her, wondering if there was a point to any of this.

"Sit down, Steve, and I'll tell you what is going to happen, or is already happening down in the basement suite, OK? I'll give you an idea of what's going on, and you can decide if you're into checking it out for yourself."

She lit up a nicely rolled joint, then passed it over to me, saying, "Tina is a popular waitress, and brings in a lot of return customers. That's good. She's also something of a slut, though, and there were more than a few times that it was brought to my attention that she was out in the parking lot or behind the storage shed, sucking some guy off. Her business, I guess, and God knows that those guys would come back with their friends and spend a shitload of cash when they did, but, like I said, I dont need that kind of crap going on around the restaurant. MY restaurant. I don't just manage it, I bought it, so I've got a vested interest in the place. Anyway, one night, I went out to grab my smokes out of the car, and there is your lovely wife, taking it from behind while she's got her mouth stretched around a pair of cocks. I told her to meet me in the office when she was done. She came in thinking she WAS done, bawling like a little kid. I tossed her a key to my basement suite, and told her that if she was going to be doing that kind of shit, to do it here, or anywhere else but at work."

"So, what, then? You had me come over to tell me that my wife is using your basement to fuck around in? Why should I give a shit?" I was a little irritated; this wasn't making a whole lot of sense.

"SO, I thought that you might be interested in seeing your wife in action, that's what." she said as she took another pull of the spliff and passed it to me. "Right now, your wife is down in my basement, showing off those big fucking titties of hers to a bunch of coked up rig pigs, Steve. She's telling them about the filthy fucking things that she's done, and how she loves to be treated like the dirty fucking cocksucker that she is, and she is going to crawl around on the floor begging them to do the most degrading shit to her. So, wanna go watch?"

I felt a little sickened by the prospect of it. At the same time, my prick had become rock hard thinking about it, and some perverse part of me wanted to see it all for myself.

"I'm in. Do you have some kind of video hookup or something?"

"No, Steve, it will be live. You OK with that? It could get pretty intense. And you have to remain absolutely silent. Still in?" Fiona was anxious to get down there.

"Let's go."

Fiona led me down to a main floor bedroom that had a huge walk in closet. At the rear of the closet, on the floor, was an open metal grating that afforded a clear view of the basement suite's living room, and the bedroom. It was pitch black in the closet, the light from downstairs shining up through the floor. I could hear Tina's voice.

"Ready, Steve?" Fiona asked, giving me one last chance to bail out.

"Hell, yeah. Let's do it."

We got down on our bellies on the thick carpet. I looked down into the living room at my wife. She was wearing a very expensive bra, garter and silk stockings, and equally extravagant five inch heels. She was seated on the edge of a kichen chair, her legs spread, working a large dildo into her hairy purple cunt. In front of her sat five crude, dirty men, telling her what a whore she was, spitting insults and cocaine enriched wads of saliva at her.

"OK, cocksucker, why dont you show us how much of that fucking dildo you can swallow?" one of them snarled at her, as he stood and yanked the slippery rubber prick out of her snatch and sat it on the coffee table in front of her chair, it's ugly pink mass standing erect in front of her.

Tina crawled toward the edge of the table and wrapped her hands around the base of the plastic phallus. She kissed the massive head of it, licking her own thick cream off of it before stretching her lips around it. Her eyes scanned the motley fucks seated in front of her, begging them silently for what they'd come here for. She forced her mouth over the slimy silicone prick as far as she could manage. Her lips and face were perversely stretched and distorted around it, though she had taken less than half of it.

"Is that all you can fucking manage? You told us that you were the best cocksucker around, for fuck sake!" one of them said to her, her eyes following his as he stood.

"Maybe she just needs a bit of motivation." said another, as he stood and removed his belt.

I looked down at my wife's face. The first man that had stood up had a handful of her hair in one hand, pressing down on the back of her head, the other clamped around her jaw, locking the dildo in her mouth. There was terror in her eyes, but she did nothing to struggle or protest.

"All of it, cunt. I want to see your fucking lips against that table." He looked back at the man who'd removed his belt and nodded.

I could taste blood in my mouth; I'd bitten down on my tongue to keep myself silent as I saw and heard the thick black leather bite into Tina's ass. Her cry of pain was muffled as she took a little more of the dildo into her face.

"What was that, cocksucker?" the man holding her head demanded, allowing her mouth just enough space to catch a breath, and reply.

"Again."

Again, the sound of the leather sliced through the air and into my wife's smooth white flesh. And again, she took the dildo even further into her mouth, her throat bulging around it's girth, saliva running out of her mouth onto the table. Her eyes were reddening as she battled against her gag reflex. Again the leather left a raw swath across her ass and she took even more of the huge fake prick into her throat. The men started grunting "more, more, more," in unison...........

My heart was pounding; I felt nauseous from the amount of adrenaline surging through my body, without a viable means of release for it. Fiona was transfixed by the spectacle being acted out beneath us, her hand stroking herself as she silently masturbated. Not more than ten feet away from me, my own wife had succeded in taking the entire length of the dildo down her throat as some brutal anonymous bastard beat her ass with a leather belt. It was the most bizarre, surreal moment of my life.

The man holding Tina by the hair dragged her up from her knees and kicked the coffee table and the dildo aside. Pulling her head back, he grabbed at one of her breasts, squeezing it roughly. The man holding the belt dragged the leather across her bulging cleavage. As he did, her nipples stiffened, and she began to get that look on her face. The look she'd get when being treated like a whore. The look she'd get when sizing up some guy for his cock, or his potential for degrading her. The look that would transform her from cheery, cute waitress to cock slave. I had not seen that look for a long, long time........

"OK, Missy, I think it's about time that you show the boys and I those fucking tits of yours. And you better make it fucking interesting, if you know what's good for you." The order had come from one of the men still seated. He was older than the others, probably their foreman. The two men standing stepped back, leaving Tina standing alone in the middle of the room.

The older man looked at the others, a greasy smirk crossing his leathery face, telling them, "You are going to fucking LOVE this......."

Fiona turned to me, and whispered,"The Show!" She then turned her attention back to the basement. Tina had the group captivated.

She was now in her element. She knew the power those breasts of hers held over people, and she loved it. She had began to develop at the age of ten, and by the time she was twelve, she was wearing a 36DD bra. She caused accidents when she walked down the streets of the small town she grew up in. People talked behind her back about her. She didn't care about what they said, most of it was true, anyway, and there wasn't a sighted heterosexual male in the whole town who hadn't jacked off while fantasizing about her.

She looked at the bunch of them while cupping her hands under her breasts, pushing them upwards, causing her cleavage to swell out from her bra. The men sat transfixed, one of them occasionally grunting in approval as she squeezed and pulled at her nipples through the lace of her bra. "The Look" began to engrave itself into her face as she watched her grimy audience squirm in their seats as their pricks stiffened........

Tina reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. It remained in place, it's shoulder straps now bearing the formidable weight. She slipped the straps from her shoulders, and the exquisite lace fell from her body, leaving her standing as the epicentre to the silent, boiling lust that had filled the room.

They were not perfect breasts, in the airbrushed, magazine sense. They were huge, and pendulous, hanging down to only a few inches above her navel. Their surface was lined with stretch marks and bluish veins. Her aureoles were a dark purplish brown, and when she was younger, had protruded off of the surface of her breasts like two smaller tits, each the size of half of a tennis ball. Now, gravity had gotten it's way, and they hung from the ends of her breasts, their dark color contrasting sharply against her pale white skin. No one in the room was complaining about them, though, and no one ever had........

Tina reached down between her legs with one hand and massaged her pussy while pulling at her dark nipples with the other. She then alternated hands, rubbing her thick, creamy girl juice over her breasts, filling the room with the sharp odor of her pheromone rich venom.

As if by cue, four of the men rose, surrounding her, pawing and grabbing at her flesh. She moaned loudly as she stroked herself off, and the men pulled at her nipples and pubic hair. The one man reprised his earlier role, once again grabbing a handful of Tina's soft, dark mane. Another took hold of her arms, pulling her elbows together behind her back, causing her to cry out, and her huge tits to thrust forward in a most vulnerable manner....

Once again, the man with the belt dragged the coarse leather across the flesh of my wife's breasts, causing her to whimper in fearful anticipation of his intentions.

"Scared?" he asked her nonchalantly.

"Yes."

"Of WHAT, for Christ's sake?"

"Please, I, umm, uhhh......"

"Please, WHAT, you fucking cunt?!! Please make you some tea? Please wipe my feet before coming in? YOU FUCKING ASKED US HERE, NOW WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!!" The roughneck's tone was brutal; he wanted to hear her beg.

"Please, whip my breasts." Tina snivelled with shame in her voice.

"What was that, could you speak up please?" the older man, still seated, taunted.

"Please, I want you to whip my tits with that belt. Please."

"Well, that was a little better," the man holding the belt said politely, "But I'd really like to hear you beg for it. Like a whore would beg."

"Please, I beg you, whip my big, ugly fucking tits!! Come on, for fuck sake!" Tina looked wild, pushing her tits toward the man holding the belt. "WHIP MY FUCKING TITTIES, YOU SON OF A BI........"

The belt tore across her breasts, leaving a thick, nasty red welt across both of them. Tina screamed, then looked her tormentor in the eye, and whispered, "Again....."

Fiona looked over at me. Her expression said it all; this was way beyond anything Tina had done here before, and Fiona was looking a bit freaked out by it all. Suddenly, our attenion snapped back toward Tina, as the belt again slashed through the air into her tits.

"AGAIN!!!!" she screamed, and recieved her demand instantly. As the belt left a dark, angry smear across her aureoles, I felt myself ejaculate. My underwear were soaked......

The men did not relent in their abuse of my wife. The older man, who had leaned back in the chair he sat in, as if watching a sports event on TV, had obviously seen Tina in action before, as he would suggest to the others to indulge in some cruel, painful action that he somehow knew she would respond to.

"Twist those big black nipples of hers, she fucking loves that, don't you, you fucking whore?"

"Yes. Please, twist my nipples. Harder. HARDER, GODDAMMIT! FUCK YEAH! LIKE THAT!!!"

The men gave Tina exactly what she wanted, and pulled and twisted at her raw nipples as she moaned like a fucking animal. The tension from the room I looked down into had reached a brutal, sadistic pitch. Part of me just wanted to get up and leave this bizarre and supremely fucked up scenario. The woman in the room who was now being forced to lick her own juice from the floor was my wife, for Christ's sake...........

The faces of the men surrounding the woman on her knees had become feral. She looked up at them with that fucking look, and that look was never as savage or intense as when she looked into the eyes of a man who's cock she was about to suck.......

"You invited us over to suck our cocks, didn't you, whore?"

"Yes."

Once again, her hair was yanked back, as another man pulled her mouth open.

"Well, why don't you tell us a few of your dirty little secrets. I'm sure a slut like you must have some great stories." The man who had been holding the belt stood in front of her and pulled his dirty cock out of his pants, adding, "I'll let you suck it if you tell me about the first time you sucked cock, whore."

She told them how criminally young she was the first time she'd sucked a man's, a teacher's, cock. And how she'd skipped classes the rest of the day to hitch hike up and down the highway, sucking the penis of every man who picked her up. She told them how, the following summer, she'd been gang banged at every biker bash she could find her way to. That she'd fucked cops right behind the Dairy Queen. She recieved a slap across her face for every sordid admission of sodomy or bestiality, the almost insane look on her face reflecting the brutality of her interrogators' sadism..........