Prologue
Just for reader benefit, this story can be read as Chapter 5 of my Staid Wife series if you so wish but I confess I get a little bored myself of longer series and the events in this story were significant enough for me to make a standalone story from it.
Introduction
If you don't want to read previous chapters of 'Staid Wife to Slut Wife', the basic summary is that after a drunken infidelity of mine with a guy from work which my husband walked in on (but got so turned on that he fucked me too there and then), my husband, Paul and I have embarked on a changed relationship. We had a typical suburban, dull lifestyle but now we were both exploring a relationship based on his domination of me, a slut wife. I have found that I increasingly revel in the humiliation and domination that I receive and now crave it.
My name is Natalie. I am 36, I have long straight, jet black hair, 5' 7, slim figure and full 36c breasts. Men usually find me highly attractive and I've certainly never had problems catching their attention. Men compliment me on my looks, my pale blue eyes and my strikingly clear complexion. I hold a senior managerial job at my work and I usually dress accordingly, skirt suits, high heels, fairly straight laced but feminine, professional and well presented.
My husband's name is Paul. He's 37, slightly greying, short black hair. He has a very pale complexion, but a warm and friendly face, pale blue eyes just like mine. He is quite well built although with the onset of the coming middle age, had lost a little of his rugged manliness that so attracted me to him all those years ago. He works for a construction company, having worked through the ranks to become an executive at the company himself.
Since that drunken night when Paul caught me cheating, he'd provided me with increasingly humiliatingly submissive experiences, including sharing me with his friend, Stuart and more recently, my friend, Fiona.
The incident with Fiona, like so many others, had left us both with many questions. Paul was developing a habit of becoming very passive in situations where someone else was dominating me and I often forgot he was even there. His desire was more to watch my humiliation than participate when in company. He was quite quiet over the next few days until I had that now familiar request to book the Friday and Monday off work the week after next.
FRIDAY MORNING
I did book the time off, with some excitement. These instructions now inevitably led to further submissive adventures but for the days that followed Paul stubbornly refused to tell me where we were going and what was to happen.
I had to wait in fact until the Friday morning itself. After almost having a row with him demanding he tell me, he revealed we were off to a hotel and conference centre down South; apparently there was a work conference over the weekend that he needed to go to and it was important as a client or two would be there and he had a couple of contracts to chase up.
My mind worked overtime figuring out how I would figure in this plan, I guess he was just going to use the opportunity to book us a hotel room and spend some quality time using me!
My curiosity was piqued further however when he went upstairs and brought my case down – he'd already packed for me. I was just told to fetch myself whatever I needed for the journey and a couple of days stay and before I knew it, he drove us both down to the hotel.
The hotel was more of a converted stately home. Grandiose gardens and driveway and on getting in, Paul sorted the rooms out. My curiosity piqued again by the fact he had booked two rooms and seemed to have several keys. I felt certain other people were going to be involved in this weekend and as I walked to my room, my breathing was a little heavy with nervous anticipation.
The room itself befitted the grand setting. It was more like a mini house to be honest. It had a large master bedroom, an ante-room with a TV and lounge set off it and a large bathroom, all immaculately presented. We spent an hour or two looking around the hotel and settling in before returning to our room.
FRIDAY AFTERNOON
That's when the surprises started, Paul opened up my suitcase and pulled out a brand new black see-through basque, black lace knickers, black stockings and black heels – his favourite outfit on me. I smiled coquettishly at him, ready to put them on for what I assumed was his sole benefit. He told me however to put them on and wait in the ante-room as he was off to fetch someone. I blanched and before he left, caught his arm hurriedly:
"Paul, tell me what's going on? What are you doing?" I said, nervously.
"Do you want to be a slut wife or not?" he said, smiling at me mischievously.
"You know I do, but...I want to know what your getting us into first....I'm not sure what is happening..." I said, nervous but a turned on, excited nervous.
"Trust me, this weekend will be amazing for you, for us both. I don't want to tell you much as you'll find out very soon but, well, you like the idea of fucking other men and being a slut for us don't you?"
He didn't need an answer, I just shrugged, an exasperated shrug.
"Well, this weekend that's exactly what you'll be doing. Trust me, it will be fun for both of us." With that he waited for further argument and discussion. I kept quiet, figuring I'd signed up for this lifestyle, I was no longer in control and I had to accept things like this. The dampness between my legs also betrayed my true feelings, I was spiralling into my humiliation all too easily.
Paul paused, kissed me on the lips and said, "Just go with what the weekend brings, I'll look after you as best as I can. I'll be back in an hour, put those clothes on, put your slutty lippy on and wait in here for me to get back and for the fun to begin."
I did as instructed (as was to be the case so many times that weekend!) I sat on the chair in front of the mirror ante room after a quick shower and dressed like a tart – which to me meant full make up, red fingernails and slut red lipstick before slipping into the clothes Paul had left me. Clothes being a loose term for what was there – a very small black basque that barely covered my breasts up, they nearly fell out every time I took a deep breath. A miniscule pair of virtually see- through black lace knickers, very expensive black seamed stockings and my black stilettos.
Surveying myself in the mirror, I looked every inch the whore and as I suspected even then, in less than an hour from then, that's exactly what I would be. I sat in the completely impractical clothes for a few minutes, light headed with my head swimming in the fog of lust that envelopes me in these situations. I even worried that my tiny knickers would get wet and even more see through if I leaked onto them!
I couldn't take the suspense much longer but sure enough, around the corner from the room, I heard voices. The adjoining door was open and I listened in. It was Paul, and some other guy.
I heard them take a seat in the lounge area and Paul started to talk;
"You know we've been trying to secure this contract with you for a few months now Nick. I thought this conference might be a good chance to seal the deal. I think you like what we're offering and the overall package so how about we seal the deal this weekend and save us both a lot of time?"
There was a pause and Nick said, "we could do Paul but you know there are still some things to work through, there's the product description issues and the specs and...."
Nick stopped speaking abruptly. Although I couldn't see him, I imagined Paul had gestured for him to let him continue;
"Sure Nick, all details we can work out in due course but we can sign now surely. And, well, let's just say I've laid on some extra special hospitality this weekend, just something between you and I, it will go no further and I hope, will persuade you to sign on the dotted line..."
In my position in the ante room, a few thoughts fell into place in my mind. I suddenly realised what function I was brought here for. I had a sickly combination of emotions as I strained every sinew to hear the conversation. Was I right - was I being traded in this weekend for a business deal? Was my husband openly prostituting me? Me, a business executive in my own right? Not only that, but a business woman several ladders higher up the corporate ladder than my husband and I assumed, this guy Nick. I had to close down my thoughts for now though as I listened in again...
"Sounds interesting Paul but...well, I don't quite follow, what exactly do you have in mind..?
"Well Nick, we're both men of the world and times are stressful. We all need some relief from the modern world from time to time. And, let me get straight to the point here, another customer of ours happens to be a...err..... let's call them an escort agency, and well, I've found us an escort for this evening who'll do a whole lot more than look good on your arm at a party..."
There was a long pause. Again I had to add in some imagined looks and body language, Nick was obviously deciding if he was going to take Paul up on the offer. As tactfully as Paul had put it, there was no doubt he was offering a weekend of fucking a prostitute in exchange for the signing of the big contract. It just so happened that I was increasingly certain the prostitute was me!