The Transformation of Betty B01

It had been four years since Bill left the neighborhood and it fell largely to me to keep the wife active as a slut and in the D/s lifestyle she'd adopted. In what follows it should be appreciated that by this time I no longer cared who in the neighborhood knew she'd been Bill's slut, that Bill let other men fuck her and that she was still active as a slut. I realized that some of the neighbors might have assumed I was little more than a cuckold, but frankly I didn't care as long as other men fucked her as regularly as possible. Fortunately, given my attitudes and her total surrender to being a shameless slut, the annual neighborhood New Years Eve parties always provided me with an opportunity to put the wife on display in a context where she might find one or more unattached males to fuck. The couple that ran those parties invited everyone from the neighborhood along with a dozen or so other friends. And those friends were free to bring whomever they wished to the party with them. So out of the 15 or so couples that commonly attended these parties, it wasn't unusual for several of them to bring a third person with them... generally a male who for one reason or another didn't have a New Years Eve date.

New Years Eve was also always a wonderful opportunity to have the wife dress more salaciously than she might otherwise dress in and around the neighborhood, if only because women like to dress sexy for New Years Eve. So the party across the street was one opportunity to take advantage of the considerable slut dress wardrobe she'd acquired at Bill's expense over the years... long skin tight gowns with plunging necklines that barely covered her tits, high slits up the front that threatened to expose her cunt, and plunging backs that invited men to slide a finger into the crack of her ass when they danced with her. I think it reached the point where the neighbors wondered from one year to the next how erotically and scandalously she'd dare to dress at the next party.

The party I have in mind this time was, as I said, four years after Bill had left, and it was my prerogative to choose what she wore. Some things, of course, were standard... large dangling earrings of the sort prostitutes wore and pumps with a full 6" heel, again suitable for a stripper or a whore. If she was going to be a whore and I intended her to be, then surely it was appropriate for everyone at the party know it. Her dress... or rather gown... in this instance was skin tight, ankle length, a deep crimson red, with a neckline that plunged to her waist. One wrong move and one or both of her tits would be wholly uncovered. But in addition, it had a slit up the front that came to within 6 or 8 inches of her neckline where it was attached by two easily disconnected snaps. Thus, when she walked you had a view of one leg or the other in its entirety to within and inch or so of her cunt. Needless to say, since she was prohibited from wearing any undergarments under such clothing, when she sat she had to be careful in the extreme not to expose her cunt. One thing her gown did accomplish, other than displaying her as a slut, was make her supremely easy to fuck.

This New Years Eve was no different than any other in one additional respect... she went to the party alone, leaving me at home. Not only did I not want to dissuade men by my presence from hitting on her, I did all I could short of hanging out a sign that read "married slut available for a night of fucking". We'd also pretty much agreed on what, in the best circumstances, would follow: She'd stay at the party until shortly after midnight at which point, if there was someone there who clearly was eager to fuck her that night, she'd invite him to leave with her to come to our house. Thus, I knew no one would be coming over until the new year, and I could only hope it would be more than one voice I'd hear after moving to a bedroom when someone entered thereafter. And on this particular night I immediately heard two voices in conversation and I knew it would be only a matter of minutes before I'd be able to listen to someone driving his cock into my wife.

"Your husband is upstairs and doesn't mind that you've brought me here?"

"Not at all... he loves it when I'm with other men. As a matter of fact, if someone hasn't already told you, with his encouragement, I was a collared slut for eight years for someone who lived down the street until he moved to Europe."

The acoustics of our house were such that even with my bedroom door closed (it was actually slightly open to that point) I could hear them clearly and I immediately began forming images in my head of what her new friend might look like. Of course I had nothing to go on except for my imagination... an imagination who liked to think she was about to get brutally fucked by some truly athletic guy with a huge cock. In any event, he was clearly taken back a bit by being told she'd been a collared slut for someone other than me and that being fucked by other men with me squirreled away upstairs was nothing new for her.

"A collared slut? So he owned you... owned you in the D/s or BDSM sense?"

"Yes. I'm strictly sub and crave serving the men who fuck me as their sub slut."

Clearly, my slut of a wife had chosen in this instance to immediately reveal her taste for BDSM sex, which of course only encouraged me to imagine her "friend" as some hulking over six foot tall lover.

"Does that include being tied, whipped, and all those other things we associate with BDSM sex?"

With no hesitation whatsoever to her reply, she boldly tells him "Oh yes, definitely... and more than that even if a man wants to use me that way."

"And your husband approves of all this... encourages it even?"

"Yes, definitely. His greatest regret is that my previous owner moved away and I am no longer collared and owned by anyone."

Clearly the wife was doing everything she could to encourage her friend to imagine himself as her new owner. I knew of course that she was desperate to find a Dom in Bill's mold as unlikely as that might be, but if she was encouraging her unseen friend to imagine himself as a replacement, then he was surely someone who turned her on by his mere physical appearance. And needless to say, as my cock grew harder still, I hoped he'd take full advantage of her invitation to treat her as a BDSM slut.

"Did your previous owner share you with other men?"

By this point in her 'career' as a wanton slut, she was hardly unwilling to reveal everything about herself sexually to other men. The last this she wanted was some vanilla quickie sex and if she could say or do anything to encourage a night or unrestrained passion... perversion even... she'd say or do it: "Yes, often... and he used me as a whore with his business clients as well." How many wives, after all, would admit to someone they'd just met that she'd worked as a whore? Well, although there may be only a few such wives, mine was one of them. I also knew that she knew I could hear every word that was spoken, and that it turned me on to have her tell men she was a whore as well as a sub slut. So whatever she was telling her friend was intended not only to encourage him to use her to fulfill whatever fantasies he had about sex with another man's wife, but to turn me on too. She not only wanted a good hard ravishing fuck, but she wanted me sitting upstairs with a cock as hard as a rock and ready to explode with the slightest encouragement. Indeed, I knew she'd be disappointed if I couldn't resist jerking off upstairs, cumming more than once while she performed as a total slut downstairs.

"Wow... I thought women like you existed only in fictional stories."

"Well, I'm very much real so why don't we stop talking and have you fuck me." [a description of their actions now are only what I imagine would happen since I remained upstairs throughout such liaisons]

With a pause in their conversation, I knew her new friend had stepped up to her to give her a deep tongue probing kiss which, of course, she'd respond to by pushing her tongue back into his mouth as far as she could. And since what she wore that evening so as to have her advertised as available could be readily removed with the unsnapping of a clasp. Thus, it took little imagination on my part to visualize her then as standing before him naked except for her shoes before their kiss had ended. I also knew that whenever someone fucked her in the living room... me, Bill, Bill's friends, etc... she preferred to be bent forward over the back of our sofa so that the man would have easy access to either of her holes... cunt or ass. The silence and shuffle of feet told me then that she was leading him to the sofa, bending over its back so as to encourage him to get on with fucking her. Indeed, the next voice I heard was hers: "fuck me .. fuck me hard .. fuck me like the shameless married slut that I am."

Stepping behind her, pulling his already rock hard cock from out of his pants, the only decision he had to make at that point is which hole to stuff with his swollen manhood. But since this was the first time he'd fucked her, he choose the obvious one, plunging his cock deep into her eager dripping wet cunt. "Yes, shove it in me... shove it in me deep... " she cried out in a voice loud enough to make certain I heard her. She not only wanted her new lover's cock to be as hard as she can make it, she wanted mine swollen, straining and aching at the same time.

Driving his cock hard into her, she then moaned out "Yessssss... fuck meeeeee... make me your whore... fuck meeee... "

Encouraged by her obvious and utterly shameless arousal, I knew what would come next: Reaching around and grabbed her by her tits, squeezing them hard as he pressed his hips against her so as to bury his cock as deep into her as he could. Pushing her ass and cunt back against him, she she was past saying things to arouse him and me... her moans and cries were now things that came utterly natural to her when she was in the midst of a good hard fucking: "Yesssss... squeeze them... squeeze my tits hard... squeeze them hard... hard... fuck me hard... " The slut that Bill had made her, the bitch in heat she now was, craved brutal hard sex. She wanted to be ravished, brutalized even. She wanted her cunt or asshole... whatever was being fucked .. to be made to feel like it was being ripped open from the assault on it. And she didn't want her tits to be merely fondled and held... she wanted them abused, she wanted men to take full control of her body and to use it in every way they might have fantasized about using a cheap shameless perverted degenerate slut.

In this particular instance, as I later found out, her new lover was young, virile and able to fuck a slut such as her with brutal force without cumming immediately. Thrusting now with his full strength, each plunge of his iron hard manhood into her elicited a grunting loud moan of "Arggggggggggggg" from her. She wants more, though, than a hard cock ravaging her cunt... she craved being treated as a dirty slut and married whore: "fuck my ass... fuck my ass hard... fuck my married asss... "

He hardly needed to be asked twice to sodomize her, so pulling his cock out of her cunt, without hesitation he plunged it into her ass as deep as it could go. It was then that I knew his cock had to be of uncommon size .. at least uncommonly think. Her ass had been fucked by an uncountable number of men over the years, so she knew what to expect. And if the cock being pushed up into her butt hole was merely average, it would push in easily with little pain and elicit merely a soft moan of pleasure. On this New Years day, though, she let out a piercing scream: "ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... " which could only mean she'd felt as if his engorged cock was ripping her open. It didn't take much imagination on my part, moreover, given her petite frame, to image her feet being literally lifted off the floor as he drove his cock into her thereafter time and time again. Thus, it was precisely at that instant that my own cock exploded in my hands, spewing its seed out onto the hardwood floor below. What husband, after all, could keep from cumming while listening to his wife being sodomized, listening to her ass being totally ravaged, and hearing her loving every second of a man's assault on her?

Its a rare man who can fuck a bitch in heat like my wife and not soon enough cum, and he's not one of them. I could hear the squeaking of the sofa on the floor suddenly stop and knew that stiffening, his cock was exploding inside her, filling her ass with his hot creamy seed. At the same time, as she felt her bowels filling with his hot sperm she cried out "cumminggggggg... cumminggggggggggg... CUMMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGG... "

For most women this would be enough, but, once transformed by Bill, she was never like most women. Totally wanton slut and readily labeled a nymphomaniac who can never get enough, as soon as her lover pulled out of her, she spun around, dropped to her knees and, ignoring the hole his cock has just filled, opened her mouth and to take his cock in it, sucking and licking it clean until it begins grew limp.

I don't know if he thought at that moment that his liaison but he was left to comment simply "my... you certainly are an eager bitch."

"Yes I am, and I'm not ashamed of that fact."

Uncertain as what he should do next he asked her "should I go now and return to the party?"

Only someone who didn't know her would ask such a question, especially if she found the man the least bit attractive and his cock the least bit inviting: "Not if you don't want to, Frank... you can spend the night here even if you wish and fuck me whenever you get the urge."

Now I knew his name... Frank .. and while still faceless to me, he was beginning to take on an identity. "Well, honestly, I have no desire to return to the party if the alternative is to spend the night here with you. Will your husband join us or will he stay upstairs?"

In these circumstances, the choice of remaining upstairs or joining the wife and her lover for a threesome was never mine. Bill owned her and it was he who decided whether I was to join him in fucking her. Thereafter, control of the nature of my participation, if any, passed to whever was using her and thus she immediately replied "He'll stay upstairs unless you ask him to come down... the choice is yours."

I'd have loved to have joined them at that point, but wasn't surprised by his answer: "Well, at this point I'd prefer to have you all to my own."

"Fine, then we can either spend the night here in the living room or we can go upstairs to another bedroom and fuck me there."

Choosing the bedroom, as soon as they entered he asked "where's your husband now?"

"He's in the next room."

I think that answer truly surprised him, since there was a note of surprise in his voice when he asked "So he can hear everything here?"

"Yes, of course."

"And he won't come in her regardless of what we're doing?"

"Not unless you ask him to."

"Hmmmm... you are definitely not like any other married couple I've met before."

"Well, I never assumed we were average," she replied with a grin. Now, however, she had some questions: "Married?"

"No... never have been."

""In a relationship with anyone?"

"Not anything long term or terribly important."

"Do you come from around here?"

"No, I'm from the other side of the country unfortunately."

"By unfortunately, I assume you'd like to fuck me whenever you could?" she then asked bluntly.

"Yes, most definitely."

Never modest or reserved about making herself available, she then added "Well, feel free to do so whenever you're in town. And perhaps after I get to know you a little better I could fly out to meet you where you live."

"That's certainly a delicious invitation if I ever heard one, so here's hoping you do get to know me better."

I don't know about most husbands, but in my case it's truly arousing to listen to one's wife arranging to be another man's ongoing slut and fuck toy. She'd clearly enjoyed how he fucked her and she just as clearly didn't want this to be a one time thing with him. Of course, she was always on the lookout for ongoing relationships in the same way that a prostitute seeks repeat clients. That, though, was apparently enough conversation for her, whereupon she said "why don't you undress so I can admire your body just as you're admiring mine."

I could hear his clothes dropping to the floor, and also, now in the bedroom, knew what to expect next from her: "have you ever whipped a woman?"

"I've spanked them, but no... never actually whipped one."

"Would you like to whip me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Oh God yessssss... and whipped hard" she responded while retrieving a thick leather belt from the drawer of the table next to the bed.

I can only guess, of course, as to what was going thru his head at this moment. Only a few hours earlier, without a partner for the night, he was probably looking forward to a relatively boring New Years Eve party among people he didn't know and could care less about. But now, laying naked before him was another mans luscious 35 or so year old wife literally begging to be fucked and whipped. And not only that, but a wife whose husband wanted his wife to be fucked and whipped, and who go off on having her made another man's BDSM slut. At some point, though, things might seem too good to be true and so he asked: "truly hard?"

"As hard as you can, Sir," she replies, using the word 'Sir' for the first time as a way to better set the mood of her as sub and him as her Master.

Adapting quickly to the role into which she was putting him, he commanded in an authoritative voice (no doubt making certain I heard it) "Then onto the bed, bitch... on your hands and knees with your ass in the air."

Obeying him instantly, the air was suddenly filled with the sound of the first crack of the belt across her ass... . not an especially sharp crack and so not an especially hard slap, but hard enough so that her body jerked slightly from the belt's impact and elicited the moan "yessssss... "

Cautious but nevertheless encouraged by her evident response, he slapped the belt down across her ass again, this time a tad harder judging by the sound: "Yessssssssss... " she again responded.

Stepping up to her, he gently rubbed her reddened ass as if to sooth her, but then quickly stepped back to give her a truly hard crack... no doubt harder than he would otherwise have done without her encouragement and most likely harder than he'd ever slapped another woman's ass. This time I could hear the bed creak discernibly as her body jerked sharply and instead of a moan she let out a shriek "YESSSSSSSSS... " upon the belt's impact. This was quickly followed by another hard crack across her ass cheeks and another shriek of "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS... "

By now, of course, it was evident to him that this slut's husband (me) had no intention of stopping this brutal assault on his wife and that if anything I the wife whipped as hard as possible. If that was his assumption, then he was totally accurate. Raising his hand, he brought the belt down on her now inevitably crimson red ass with what must have been all the force he could muster. This time she let out a screeching "AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... " from the pain that had to be raging thru her. But again, with her breathing now obviously heavy, she made no effort to resist him or to protect her brutalized ass in any way from the next brutal crack of the belt.

I assume he'd fantasized about having a sub slut bitch such as her at his disposal, and now that he had her, he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to pursue a fantasy or two with a slut who truly craved BDSM. "Sit up bitch and turn around", once again with a voice intended for me to hear. And as soon as she sat on her haunches before him, he commanded "cup your tits and hold them up for me, slut"