What the Fuck? Ch. 04: Slut Conversion

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Couple creates new bisexual slut slaves.
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craigool
craigool
859 Followers

Non-consent/Reluctance – Couple creates new bisexual slut slaves

[Author's notes: Warning! This is an extramarital non-consent/reluctance sex story, where the couple is seduced into becoming sex slaves to an entire company. This hopefully will be hot enough to be a whack off story for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.]

[Warning: This story has some male/male sexual contact, less than the first chapter, but shows how the couple accepts being turned into complete sluts. It would be more at home in the Fetish – Cuckold category, except for the clear drugging and extortion. It would also fit in Mind Control due to the use of hypnotic drugs and subconscious commands. Also, this issue contains instances of MIL and FIL incest, spanking and crossdressing.]

[This is loosely based upon the same premise as the "What The...?" series of stories by Castlemania https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=3364886&page=submissions . Her ratings were savaged by the Anonymous, because she was in essence writing a "Burn The Bitch" story without the husband ever leaving until he was in too deep. Anonymous don't write stories, or offer constructive criticism, so for their benefit, I'm not gay, I'm not bi, I don't suck cock, this is a work of FICTION. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so here is my imitation story.]

[If you have not read "What The Fuck? 01: Sluttification", https://www.literotica.com/s/what-the-fuck-ch-01-sluttification,"What The Fuck? 02: Rebellion and Betrayal", https://www.literotica.com/s/what-the-fuck-ch-02-rebellionbetrayal , and "What The Fuck? 03: Slut's Apology" https://www.literotica.com/s/what-the-fuck-ch-03-sluts-apology , please go and do so. You may not be able to understand this chapter without them. All characters are 18 years of age or older at the time of actual sexual contact, despite being fictional characters who have no age at all.]

*****

I walk out of the elevator onto the thirteenth floor, after having already trying to find my office on the 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th. This isn't fucking funny anymore, and I am heading for Lilah's office to take my pique out on her, when Petra does her runway model stomp in my direction. You cannot help but love the face of this Morgan Fairchild clone with the Marissa Tomei body, even with the contempt, anger, and sneers she often displays in public. Grabbing me by my lapels, she whispers in my ear "Will I see you today, Master?", her voice sweet as maple syrup and filled with need.

"No, cunt, you must serve Bitch Goddess until I can see you on Friday." I whisper back sadly, knowing I have a full schedule.

"As you command, Master.", she says softly as she stomps on my foot, shaking me like a leaf, as attorney's approach us from both sides, then yelling "AND IF YOU EVER DISOBEY ME AT COMPLIANCE SERVICE AGAIN I WILL HAVE YOU TERMINATED FOR CAUSE TO BECOME THE FUCK TOY IN A SOUTHERN PRISON FULL OF BLACK MEN!", as she flings me backward to crash against the wall, losing my balance to fall on my ass. I am chuckling as the associates rush to pick me up, and Petra stomps off, knocking the files out of a poor paralegal's hands, papers flying everywhere. It is a scene, carefully constructed by Petra to further her Ice Queen uber-vixen image, and the story of our "rivalry". I thank God for Lilah, who brought her into my life.

I go to Lilah's office but only her paralegal is there, Evan. I'd always assumed Evan was gay, kind of a redheaded freckled doof, but now I read him more as just submissive, while Evan looks at me as somebody he would have sworn is straight, but is no longer sure after seeing the compliance service, suddenly testing his own notions of sexual identity. He responds to the dominant authority I project since Lilah helped "find my balls", dropping his head, not looking me directly in the eye. Evan tells me Lilah is with Keisha offsite, working on her special projects, and won't be back until after lunch. I ask him where my office is, and he says Lilah made him promise not to tell me. I get the sense he fears Lilah more than he fears me, but bringing Petra over to crush his balls on Lilah's desk will probably loosen his tongue. I am just piqued enough to do it.

I walk into Lilah's office to see if this plan can even work, to see floor plans, for the 14th and 15th floors, strewn over her big zebra-wood desk. The 15th floor is the new HQ of LDJ&J, with seven senior partner offices, and a dozen conference rooms. The 14th floor is a dance club in the middle of dozens of cubicles – unless you knew there was a back hallway, you would never even know it was there (unless the sound system was turned on). This hall is twice the size of the one downstairs, easily capable of holding four hundred people. Doors to hallways can be shut at every cross hallway, and there is a path from the elevators to that back hallway. People could be brought in at night for rave parties, or the other types of parties likely to go on at LDJ&J, and if blindfolded could never lead anyone back to it.

With just a moment's study, I could see at least a dozen ways to set doors to change the paths. The corner office is huge, easily the size of the Senior Partner's on the floor above, with a very nice office for the paralegal blocking access. It is labeled "Entertainment Director". I can hear Lilah laughing at me in the depths of my mind, imagining her telling Keisha and both of them laughing at me, as I finally figure out where my desk is, on the floor above.

I say thanks to Evan on my way out, heading straight to the elevator while everybody is talking and looking at me, then looking away. I get in the elevator, pop up to the 14th, and my office is to the left. Workmen are making hellish noises, cutting sheet metal and sawing and drilling in a frenzy, trying to meet Lilah's undoubtedly difficult timetable, as the rest of the floor is simply unfinished.

Katrina greets me the same way she has every day when no one else is in earshot, "When are you going to bend me over that desk, Boss?". I always understood it as playful banter, just lightening up our day. Her smile is bright, like her personality, leading many to discount her as an airhead. But she often knew more about the law than I did, so much that most of my first drafts of motions and even briefs are produced by her. Sharp as a tack mentally, her rocking body is every bit the equal of Debbie's, full rack straining at a lacy brassiere, gauzy blouse on top of it, tight black pencil skirt right at the edge of being too short to be professional.

So Katrina is the full package, even if I never would have picked her without knowing her. Now that I do know her, I know I have been very, very dense, because her playful query showed me so much about her wants and needs if I'd only listened. Her 'bend me over' phrase indicated both a desire for sex and a desire to be subservient, echoed by the 'Boss'. The 'When' indicated a present need, a desire begging to be satisfied, probably as far as a submissive can go without risking a direct proposal. I'd asked for a blonde, attractive enough to distract clients, who wouldn't be a "Debbie Downer" in my days. I'd specifically asked for a blond because I rarely found them attractive. Now thanks to Petra, my perspective on that is tilting, another reason to be grateful Petra is in my life.

I grab her wrist, pulling her into my new office. Like Lilah's, it still smells of paint and varnish. A big mahogany "L" shaped desk takes up one side of the room, with a table, chairs, and couch on the other side. I plant Katrina's wrists on the edge of the desk, pulling her ass out to form another "L". I lightly kick her legs spread to shoulder width.

"When we are alone in the morning, this is how I expect you to greet me in my office. You will unbutton your blouse now." I state firmly, as she uses her right hand to comply.

"You must also flip up your skirt to your waist. Hose must be hold ups or you will wear garters, black, taupe, or red only. You will never wear white lingerie again. You are no virgin, and if any part of you is, it won't be for long." I require firmly, as her hand moves her skirt up, displaying lacy white panties that are wet and getting wetter by the moment. Good.

"You will wear only front clasp bras, that are designed to show that you are the hottest paralegal on the planet. Of all of them, I chose you. So lace or nearly transparent, there has to be a guessing game about being able to see how stiff your nipples are. So no padded bras, not that you have ever needed them. Front clasp only, I need access to your breasts at a moment's notice." I stop, as I realize I am repeating myself.

I decide to demonstrate the benefits of the arrangement. I undo the clasp of her bra, and the full cups, either D or E, swing free. I move behind her, my erection tenting my trousers, pushing between the full cheeks of her ass, releasing a low moan from Katrina, as I fondle her nipples, flicking them in nearly painful attacks of my nails on her nipples. I pull her stiff nipples out as far as I can, as her back arches, while I rejoice in those long nipples, which turns out to be quite the benefit for her as well. The spigot on her snatch is turned up to full flow of lube, so I rub her breasts to literally leave her hanging.

"The day I come in here and find you without panties, I will fuck you and use you as I see fit from that point forward. Until then, every day will be nothing but foreplay and spankings. I'm going to remove your panties now. Each day you arrive with panties, I will remove them and spank you until you climax. Maybe even afterward, I'm just going to spank you until I feel you've been spanked enough. Let's begin." I promise her what I think she has always wanted.

I yank down her panties roughly as she whimpers, leaving them around her ankles on the floor. I start swatting her ass, left cheek then right cheek, turning up the intensity to find her pain threshold. When she reaches it, marked by a distinct yowling sound, I rub her ass cheeks, noting she isn't as tight as Debbie, which actually provides more fun with a little more jiggle, she is writhing beneath me, lube dripping down her legs, so I scoop it back towards her nearly bare pussy. My hand explores her roast beef sandwich, a lunch for another day, rubbing up and down her vulva, spreading her open, locating her rather smallish clit as her hips buck.

I spank her again, another series of increasing intensity, until she is sobbing. Yet her pussy is telling another tale, as I try to scoop the lube back up onto her ass cheeks, rubbing her own fluids in to mitigate the redness. After soothing her glutes, I thrust my thumb into her tight channel, using it and my fingers to pull on her nub and the front wall of her pussy at the same time. I rotate my hand as I pull it out, fingers thrusting back in to fill her cunt, just fisting her, as my thumb strums her clit. She is bucking and crying out. Her hips are thrusting, so I have to check her nipples, pressing my erection into her ass, to twist, flick, and pull her insanely stiff nipples. She is bucking back into me, as if she wants to drive my cock into either her cunt or her ass, or as if she is a woman under an intense wave of climaxes.

"Some days I may stop here. Other days I may not stop until your knees buckle. I'm sure you can feel how much I want you. But penetrative sex has to be your choice." I explain firmly.

"Please...please...fuck me! Please!" she begs.

"Not today. I've changed my mind. I'm not going to let you play this out, day after day. I need your decision tomorrow morning. You have to choose, spankings or fuckings. If you wear panties tomorrow, you will have chosen spankings, and there will be no fuckings, on that day or any other, leaving me no option but to tease you unmercifully. If there are no panties, then there will be fuckings, but no more spankings, no teasing, only pleasing. If you are the Katrina I think you are, you will tell me you want it all, and will be just like you are right now, but naked, with a leather collar on your neck, a pair of dark thigh high hose, and a pair of red heeled four inch or higher Christian Louboutin shoes which you will buy on my company account, regardless of which choice you make. Of course you may not touch yourself, nor press your thighs together like you do, nor use even a shower massager or any other tool to make yourself climax. You must learn your climaxes come from me. You will serve me sexually as brilliantly as you do in every other way. Now bring me the Verdugo Gardens file and update me on the status." I say as I scoop up her panties, use them to wipe down her legs and pussy, leaving them a soggy mess, and tuck them in my jacket pocket until I sit down. I seal them in a zip-lock plastic bag, labeled with her name, date, and time; filing them under "P" in the locked drawer of my desk.

Sitting in my new chair, I note it is in the style I like with armrests, but with a higher back. Everything is in my new desk, including the ring I wanted Lilah to accept even with me begging on my knees yesterday. But I have found my balls, and while I still want to do it, I don't feel the same urgency. We have time. Lilah told me as much by hiding the ring. That woman has been at least two moves ahead of me in the relationship chess game she is playing, but what is her goal, her checkmate? I suddenly realize I really can't propose to her until my divorce is final, which triggers another item I have to take care of, before I get that all screwed up too. I make the call.

"Hi, Donna? Can I drop by this afternoon for a cup of coffee? I have something we need to talk about. No, not over the phone, only in person. Yes, is 1:30 good? Great, see you then." I say as I update our schedules, posting a meeting for Kevin and myself offsite from then until midnight.

Katrina brings a courier bag from Dave, marked Attorney/client privilege. It has some pictures of him fucking Debbie at his office, both Debbie and I sucking his cock, individually and together. It also includes the variations of he and I both double penetrating her. There are also two syringes, of what I assume is "the Dose" for Donna, with a note taped to it saying "Do at least this good. One dose per day." I dictate a thank you note to Dave, asking Katrina to get him a nice gift to go with it, a Nambe-ware serving set, or something equivalent, giving her an excuse to be out shopping with my card, and hopefully tormented by her choices. I put the pictures in a file in my desk and lock it. Then I realize I need them and several others, so I print those other pictures to the color laser, unlock my desk and put them all together in my briefcase, and lock my desk again.

I realize that Dave has much more in the way of pictures and videos than he just shared with me, and the picnic had much more, and that as Managing Director of Entertainment, I have access. I dictate another memo, requesting access to all records from those dates and locations, restricted to access by Katrina's account and my own, restricted to access at our workstations only, and locking out other access to those records without my personal authorization. I add back the Senior Partners and Dave for authorized access, they can probably override, but no need to be rude. I add the compliance services, in perpetuity, from L&D and LDJ&J, and am informed Keisha, or her replacement will be notified of my request. Good Girl Keisha, I think to myself.

"Katrina, please schedule appointments for all the former J&J employees with the counselors, and send a memo out to all employees reminding them that completing each hypnotherapy course has a bonus check attached. Remind payroll that the 5,000$ per employee waiver bonus must be paid in this weeks check or deposit. Find out who the redhead I served at the compliance service is, and schedule a meeting with her in our office, plus get her first in line for the counselors, please. I want a photo ID database of all employees, along with non-payroll access to the HR database. When that is done, go get your shopping done, we are done for the day." I say brightly, as I note I have time for a burger before my coffee klatsch is set to meet.

Pulling up to my in-law's house in the hills, I find Kevin is already there, waiting in his white BMW SUV. We pull out our briefcases, walk up to the house, and ring the doorbell.

"Hi Jon-jon! Oh, I thought you'd be alone." Donna says brightly, then moves her hand to cover her cleavage, for good reason. She has long auburn hair, cut in bangs. She has a slightly wicked face, like she is always up to mischief, or maybe she just got in touch with her inner slut years earlier than Debbie did. But the true difference is about two more inches of breast on each side, a 36G the last time I checked one of her bras, so there is a lot of cleavage in that canyon, and she has it all on display today. Donna chose a ¾ cup gauzy, nearly transparent black bra, plus my favorite blouse, her black sheer one that when backlit is essentially transparent, and it is unbuttoned all the way down to her nipples. She was planning to give me a show, and Kevin being there is unplanned, but she is at her core an exhibitionist, so she arches her back, thrusting out her full rack as her nipples stiffen in response to Kevin's gaze into her deep valley.

"Hi! I'm Donna, Debbie's Mom." she extends the hand which was covering her cleavage, turning slightly sideways, so he can see how massive her rack really is, as her tongue briefly flicks to wet the lips of her perfect archers bow shaped lips, but also like she was subconsciously licking him already.

"Kevin Thurgood, Senior Partner at the law firm where Jonathan and now Debbie also works." Kevin says as his eyes rake over her body like he is scanning her for 3D reconstruction later, as he smiles, a smile I'm told by the paralegals is enough to get them to drop their panties right then. I can smell the effect on Donna, as I finally pay attention to Donna's skirt, a red tennis skirt cut about as short as any skirt I'd ever seen her wear. Either her ass has gained padding since she bought it, or she is intentionally wearing the tightest skirt she owns, just to remind me where Debbie's fine ass originally came from. Donna's eyes flash and narrow, her hazel eyes with green flecks seriously contemplating him as the smile leaves her face.

"I love the auburn hair! When did you get it done?" I say brightly as I wonder if the drapes match the curtains.

"You delicious man! My subconscious must have anticipated your call. I only had my hair done yesterday." she says as she hugs me, sandwiching my body with her cleavage, as she puts a big red lipstick mark on my cheek.

"In the cupola, then?" I ask as I am in no hurry to let her go. I think what might have been, if Kevin was not here, how my mother in law would have seduced me to make up for the husband that spends too much time on the road.

"Yes, I think that's best. We can catch the afternoon light in there, it will be much brighter." Donna says happily, probably also thinking of how transparent her blouse will be in the light, and I'm already predicting which chair she will pick.

craigool
craigool
859 Followers