The Transformation of Betty A08

"Yes, and I'm sure it wouldn't take much to send her over the edge," Marylyn replied. This, though, was Alex's and Marylyn's first meeting, and Marylyn was interested in learning more about me, including how Alex and I met. He told her about Las Vegas: That my husband brought me there for the express purpose of finding men to fuck; that my husband essentially gave me to him; and that he was free to share me with his friends and did so along with the pool attendant. He briefly reviewed what little he knew about my time as Bill's collared slut, emphasizing that it was originally my husband's idea for me to let other men fuck me and that he'd encouraged me every step of the way in becoming the slut that I was that day. Finally, he told her that there was no fixed date as to when I'd return home to my husband, and that wile his vacation ended in two weeks, insofar as he was concerned I could stay as long as I wished.

'So her husband does truly want her kept as a whore and used in any way we wish?"

"Yes, and I'm guessing that the more extreme her experiences, the more he'll like it."

"Nice," Marylyn interjected, "so I gather there'd be no objection on anyone's part to having me make her my lesbian sub slut whenever she's with me?"

"None whatsoever. For as long as she's here, she belongs to us to do with as we please."

It's difficult and somewhat impossible for me to describe how I felt as they stood there, looking down at me, talking about me and my life as a married slut. Perhaps I was too turned on by how Marylyn had prepared me to feel any shame; perhaps I'd have felt no shame whatsoever even without the vibe. I didn't care that I was then the focus of a scene that nearly everyone would label perverted. What I wanted was for them to play with me, to touch me, to fuck me, to make me cum. Thus, when Alex reached over and pressed the vibe harder into my cunt, I let out a muffled garbled cry of "ARGHHHHHHH" as an orgasm immediately swept thru me. When he pressed against the vibe again and my hips rose to meet him while my orgasmic convulsions continued and nothing but gurgling garbled noise came for my mouth, all I wanted was for my orgasm to continue and never end.

"The bitch is a regular cum machine right now, isn't she" Marylyn commented approvingly.

"Yes, and I should tell you now if you don't already know, but she loves it rough," Alex added before he brought one hand down and then the other across my tits with searing hard slaps.

I frankly can't accurately recall my responses then. I'm sure the slaps kept my orgasm going, but I cannot be sure since my mind was then in a fog. Alex and Marylyn had me exactly where they wanted me ... in a psychological never never land of erotic bliss that I am told only a submissive can achieve. As I lay there, though, Alex and Marylyn had some details to talk about ... how they'd share me between themselves and what limits if any would be prudent to abide by when using me. However rather than talk about these things in my presence, they returned downstairs, leaving me there with my subtle and only slowly diminishing orgasmic convulsions.

I don't know how long they were gone, but when they returned Alex announced that he and Marylyn had reached some agreements on using me as their slut. I thought for an instant that Alex would then release me and take me with him, but that possibility was immediately quashed when he commented "I think we should play with the bitch as she is right now ... you went to too much trouble preparing her for us to not make good use of what you've done."

Marylyn was apparently delighted with that suggestion, and taking her cue from the slaps Alex had administered to my tits, she left the room for an instant and returned with a riding crop, handing it to him telling him "I bet the bitch will enjoy this."

Taking the crop from her hand, Alex apparently wanted better access to my body so after getting Marylyn's OK, he removed the belt around my thighs that kept my legs locked together and the vibe in me, and immediately began deliciously and tantalizingly running the crop over my tits, belly and the area of my cunt. Then, as though he were demonstrating my response to the crop, he slid it between the lips of my cunt over my clit and then in an instant, pulled it away and brought it down hard with a sharp crack across one of my tits.

The unanticipated biting pain caused me to try to scream out, which of course I couldn't do with my mouth gagged so instead only gasping gurgling noises came from my mouth. That crack was immediately followed by another, at which point the contraction of my cunt pushed the vibe put of me ... only to be replaced by the crop's handle so that Alex could fuck me with it and show Marylyn how easily I could be made to cum after being whipped.

"I guessed the slut liked being whipped when I saw the welts on her ass from the whipping you'd given her before send her over to me, but it's nice seeing first-hand how she responds." It was then, though, that Marylyn thought she saw something, and telling Alex to hold off for a second, she closely inspected my cunt, stepping back telling him "the slut's hand her cunt lips pierced at one time."

"Yes, her husband told me she had rings in her there once ... put in by her previous Master Bill. But she had them cut off and removed when he died."

"Well in that case, if her husband would have no objection, I think the slut needs to be pierced again. And while I don't know what she had in her cunt before, but I think a rather substantial pair of rings would be what's called for now."

"I agree ... and no, her husband would have no objection to the slut being pierced in any way we wish."

I hadn't realize that Alex and my husband had talked about my prior piercings in Las Vegas, but I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. If there was anything he could tell a man how much of a slut his wife was, he would. Alex, then, though, added "I don't want her pierced right now ... I don't want to do anything that would put her cunt even temporarily out of commission. If it turns out she has to be returned to her husband for any reason, we can have her pierced immediately before that. Otherwise we can decide later when to do it."

"I agree. I've only just begun with this little bitch and there's a lot more I want her to experience as my lesbian slut before I have to put things on hold."

Frankly, I regretted having the rings removed that Bill had put in me and I had no objection to having Alex and Marylyn getting me pierced again. Whenever Bill displayed my piercings men knew in an instant how much of a slut I was and that they could fuck me any way they wished. The rings were, you might say, the perfect private advertisement for who and what I was. But then with Alex pushing the handle of the crop back into my cunt, my brain switched from contemplating getting pierced to the pleasures that were again taking control of me.

For the next half hour or so Alex and Marylyn amused themselves playing with me ... fingers in my cunt, the crop in my cunt, the crop being brought down hard across my tits and abdomen so as to leave a roadmap of welts on me. Their objective, though, seemed to be simply seeing how frequently I could be made to cum and whether my orgasms could be made or at least appear to be continuous. However, my body is capable of only so much and not only was exhaustion setting in, but my cunt was beginning to ache from the near constant contractions I was experiencing.

"I think the slut is slowing down ... perhaps its time to call it a day."

"Yes, I agree ... she definitely could use a little rest as well as a shower."

And with that my wrists were freed, the gag from my mouth and the rope from my legs removed. The vibe had fallen out, but the plug in my ass remained. Alex had me put on my heels and put my blouse in a small plastic bag. He then asked Marylyn if he could keep me in the spanking skirt. She agreed and, with me standing next to the bed, bent down so she could re-buckle the two straps that held it in place as tightly as possible so as to once again put my ass on salacious display.

Heading downstairs, naked from the waist up and with my ass exposed and still plugged, Alex commented on how he felt the skirt was appropriate for a married slut such as myself. Then, opening the front door, he told me to wait for him at the end of the walkway. Alex's car, parked on the street, was maybe 50 feet from Marylyn's front door, but the end of the walkway was itself ten feet or so from the car itself. Add to this the fact that with the bottom strap of the skirt buckled so as to keep my knees virtually locked together, then I was going to be in full public view during my painfully slow walk down the walkway, and then I had to remain so as I waited for Alex to come down to usher me into his car.

Again, I wasn't embarrassed by any of this. If Alex wanted to display me publicly in this way, I was happy to oblige him. Since I knew no one in the neighborhood ... indeed, since I knew no one within 1500 miles of me ... there was no reason to be embarrassed. If anything, it turned me on to think that someone might see my tits and ass on display in that way. I was once again enjoying the freedom of not having to worry that the 'wrong' people would learn I was a slut. Alas, aside from the few cars that shot by on the street, I saw no one in the five or so minutes it took Alex to say goodbye to Marylyn and thereafter open the car door for me.

"It's obvious that lesbian sex appeals to you. But do you like it more than what you get from a good hard cock?"

"N ... no Sir," I responded initially, and then decided to be totally forthright. "Actually Sir, I'm not sure ... I'm not that experienced with a Mistress. I certainly enjoyed being with Mistress Marylyn, but I can't say whether I like it more than what I experience with one of more hard cocks."

"Well, if I had to guess I'd say you were the perfect bisexual ... able to enjoy straight or lesbian sex equally, but right now lesbian sex is a bit of a novelty because it's a break from what you're accustomed to."

Perhaps if I had the chance to stop and think about things I'd have more fully appreciated the irony of what Alex had just said. There I was, a wife for whom 'routine' had come to include being shared among countless men, having two or three cocks in me at the same time, working as a whore at a topless club, and being publicly displayed in clothes that were downright pornographic. Fifteen years ago I was a virgin whose ideas about marriage matched what one was likely to find in a child's nursery rhyme, but where 'normal' now included being bound, whipped, clamped and pierced while serving as a sub slut for someone other than my husband.

I didn't though, have much chance to think about things, for as soon as we arrived at Alex's he told me to go to the living room, get down on all fours and await his cock. Then, without removing the plug from my ass, or unbuckling the straps of my skirt, he attempted to force his cock up into my cunt. With the straps of the skirt still buckled tight, that proved to be impossible, and he was compelled to unbuckle them before he could recommence his assault. The fucking that ensued revealed that Alex was not especially interested in my pleasure, but instead was focused on resolving whatever horniness had built up in him during my stay at Marylyn's. He simply banged away at me until, after five or so minutes, he stiffened and filled me with his seed.

After he pulled out, he simply sent me upstairs to clean up and change into something suitable for a trip to a local restaurant for an early lunch (I was starving). He knew that I had preciously little that could be worn in public that wouldn't draw attention, but he didn't seem to care. The most conservative dress I had ... if one wants to stretch the meaning of 'conservative' ... was a little red number with spaghetti string shoulder straps, and a flair hem that, like the skirt I wore to Marylyn's, barely covered my ass. One might say it mimicked the skirts female tennis players wore except I was playing at something other than tennis in a sport wherein the 'rules' prohibited wearing any undergarments whatsoever.

What I didn't realize then, while I bit late in the day for breakfast, was that Alex was initiating a routine whenever I was with him in the morning. He'd drive to that part of town with a variety of sidewalk cafes and coffee shops; he'd park a block or two away from his favorite café; and in addition to a leather collar he'd have me wear something decidedly sexy if not wholly provocative. He was, in other words, making me a semi-regular attraction. Anyone with the morning routine of a late breakfast or coffee before learned over the course of the next few weeks that there was a chance of seeing Alex with his slut. I didn't doubt even that a number of men made having breakfast there a routine on the chance they'd see what salacious semi-pornographic dress I was wearing that day.

Other things soon became routine. First, as much as Alex liked tying me helpless and occasionally whipping me, he was into BDSM far less than Bill had been. Alex primarily loved fucking me and occasionally sharing me with a friend or two. The gangbang he'd arranged was never repeated but I think whoever fucked me that night got to fuck me again later so that everyone Alex was acquainted knew he had a married slut staying with him. Also, he and Bill were clones in that both loved displaying me dressed as a slut. In addition to having me borrow a few items from Marylyn's wardrobe, we visited a small sex shop with a limited inventory of slut/stripper wear several times. And since he didn't mind letting everyone around us know who and what I was, he pushed the envelope there about as hard as Bill did when I was taken out of town. Indeed, displaying me as a shameless slut occurred in some extreme ways, such as having me drive up to a drive thru window naked from the waist up and, more daring still, having me served at one of those now long gone car hops wearing nothing more than one of the thongs I wore at the topless club.

And he absolutely loved the spanking skirt I wore when he picked me up at Marylyns. I don't think he ever attempted to return it, and that's what he had me wear whenever one of his friends came to his house to fuck me ... the skirt, a collar and a pair of my fuck-me high heels.

Now I don't want anyone to think that by using the word 'routine' I mean boring. Things were anything but that with Alex. First, to say he loved fucking me is an understatement - I never spent a day with him in which he didn't fuck me at least twice and often three or four times. And there was almost never a night in his bed in which he didn't wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning to shove his cock in me or to do so as soon as we awoke. And not just fuck me ... but tie, whip and clamp me. Yes, he surely enjoyed stuffing me with his cock while I was bound helpless.

Nevertheless, aside from the freedom I experienced with Alex in being openly displayed as a slut ... and a married one at that if he had the opportunity to tell anyone about me ... if I was looking for something different or out of the ordinary I found it in part working occasionally as a whore at the topless club, and most definitely as Marylyn's lesbian slut. Although over the course of the next three or four weeks I attended only two after hours parties, by then I had at least three clients who were free to call me if they wanted to spend a few hours or a night in some local motel fucking me. I can't say that anything unusual or uncommon ever happened then, but simply working as a whore was turn on enough for me. I'd always thought there was something supremely naughty for a married woman to be a whore and now I was one.

But for me the truly uncommon was being Marylyn's lesbian sub slut. First, as my Mistress she was decidedly more serious about BDSM and maintaining a strict D/s relationship than was Alex. When I entered her house I did so with a leash attached to my collar and thereafter as soon as the front door closed, I was to drop to my knees, assume a submissive position and hold out the leash for her to take. No one before had required such formality and frankly I liked acknowledging my status in this way. In fact, when she had someone with her with whom I'd be shared, it turned me on to display my status so shamelessly.

Add to this the fact that Marylyn's lesbian friends all appeared to be in their late 20s or early 30s, there was an additional erotic dimension to being shamelessly submissive before women who were upwards of ten years younger than me. I'm not sure what that's the case. In part, I suppose, it was the fact that I was someone's wife revealing herself as a lesbian slut and surrendering to those who from my perspective seemed as young girls. I can't put my finger on precisely why their age mattered, but the asymmetry made me feel more depraved and degraded than otherwise and thus made everything more erotic.

As for what was especially different about being Marylyn's sub slut was how I felt being shared by her among other women. I'd of course been fucked by several men at once countless times and sometimes passed around them as if I were a tray of appetizers at a cocktail party. But it wasn't until I served Marylyn that I was shared and used by several women at once. And here there was at least one notable difference with how I was treated. Not sure I can put things into words, but with men I always had the sense that they viewed me as a person with wants, needs, tastes, etc. In contrast, with Marylyn and her friends I was a pure object, and entity of some sort they were using for their pleasure. With men I retained an identity; with the women I became a mere impersonal object.

This difference manifested itself in how I was used and fucked. Men often fucked be for no other reason than that they wanted to get themselves off, and as soon as that did, they had no further interest in me. I was a cum bucket for some men ... a cum bucket with a name, a cum bucket with a husband, but a cum bucket nonetheless. And while Marylyn and her lesbian friends were no less interested in their own erotic release as the men, they seemed to take greater pleasure in making me cum ... and in doing so by tormenting and even abusing me. And torment and abuse me they did, using the biggest and fattest strap on dildos they could find, butt plugs that seemed as if they'd tear my ass open when being inserted and clamps that I thought would squeeze my nipples into nothingness. Their greatest pleasure, though, I think came from one specific thing: Fisting me and making me loose all control. Indeed, I still remember the first time Marylyn fisted me since it was the second time I went to her house. She had two of her girlfriends there when I arrived and I think she was intent on showing the how obedient I could be.

As soon as I entered her home, the formalism of a D/s relationship commenced: "On your knees bitch and take off that blouse," which was soon thereafter followed by "now hand me your leash." Then giving the leash a violent and hard pull that cause me to nearly fall foreword face onto the floor, she turned to her two friends who were standing nearby and announced "this is my new slut. She's a married slut but not to anyone around here ... and even if her husband were nearby, he'd be irrelevant since I'd bet their marriage is already doomed or a mere cover to keep some people from learning what she is."

"Is she a lesbian?" one of the women asked.

"Not strictly ... best to label her bi. But for our purposes she's a lesbian sub and we should treat her accordingly." Then, with a second hard jerk of the leash she commanded "Stand up so my friends can inspect you."