Sally's Road to Ruin

A lot can change in a month. Just a few weeks ago sex had been something had maybe been once a week or fortnight affair with her husband of 25 years, an hour or so of love-making late at night.. intense, fun and often tinged with kink and submission. But this was something Freya hadn't ever imagined or anticipated -- a woman stood before her, stripped naked, blindfolded and utterly vulnerable, waiting to be used however she saw fit.

The journey to this pivotal moment had started a few weeks ago when a devastated Sally had called asking to come round one wet, winter evening, her relationship having just abruptly ended after discovering the man she had loved, trusted and worshipped had been living a lie... unbeknownst to her, dividing his time between her and the mother of his youngest child -- a women he claimed to have long since left.

Working her way through a bottle of wine Sally had poured out her soul to Freya and her husband Seth, her closest friends since all meeting at college in the mid-90s. Eventually the conversation turned to love lives, with an increasingly drunken Sally having moved through grief-stricken tears, on into anger and through to questioning how her needs were ever going to be met in future as she got towards the end of the first bottle of Malbec... "Who is going to find this short, overweight, middle-aged train-wreck of a woman attractive?" "Who's going to take the time to get to know me?" "How am I going to find someone I can really trust after being betrayed again?" "I have needs, you guys know... don't you?"

Opening a second bottle Sally proceeded to tell Freya and Seth in some detail about her need to be dominated in her relationships, the inner conflict of being a feminist, a free-spirit who had foregone the chance to be a mother in order to travel the world and build a successful career in banking. Not quite matching Sally's rate of drinking but with their tongues loosened too by the wine and the warmth emanating from the log burner, Freya and Seth spoke too of their sex life -- how it had started with an intense BDSM dynamic that had lessened over the years as children, work and life got in the way but now still manifested itself on occasion when time and tiredness permitted.

That was when Sally had made her drunken proposition... "What if you guys were to -- no, sorry, I shouldn't say this. Oh, who gives a fuck.. I'm drunk and dumped. I need to be used. I need my body and soul to be broken like my heart -- it'd be cath.., what's the word... cathartic."

"I love you guys, you've always been there for me... and I totally trust you. I know you'd find it fun Freya, I know you'd like to take out all your frustrations on me. Imagine having someone utterly helpless and yours to do with as you chose..."

That had been four weeks ago -- Sally's proposition that night gently declined by Freya and Seth, both concerned over her drunkenness and frail state. But it had planted a seed in all three and while Sally had called a week later to apologise for inflicting them with her woes, she had once again, this time very soberly, reiterated her need and increasing desire to become their masochistic plaything.

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"So this is it" Freya thought nervously to herself. "Is it too late to back out of this arrangement?" she silently questioned. Here she was, almost shaking with nerves, apprehensive yet somehow sadistically excited and, she couldn't deny it, incredibly turned on. She liked control, oh how she liked to be in control, but this was a whole new level -- here in front of her stood one of her oldest friends, utterly exposed, vulnerable and seemingly craving to be used and abused as she, Freya, saw fit.

Where to even begin. Well, there was no rush. Maybe she should start by having a closer look, would an inspection be the way to go? Freya looked to her husband Seth seated in the corner of the room. He nodded encouragingly, here only to watch, support and enjoy. Freya turned back to Sally and took all of her in... maybe five foot five in height, long dyed-brown hair but with the grey of age fighting through at the roots, a round face half obscured by the blindfold, large, heavy, sagging breasts with long, dark pink nipples which for a fleeting moment reminded Freya amusingly of wild raspberries, a flabby, out of shape stomach, a thick thatch of greying pubic hair at the top of her legs that spread across the tops of her thick thighs and short dumpy legs covered in downy brown hair.

Sally was no model, no pornstar. No, here was a real middle-aged woman in all her natural glory who it seemed had taken the order issued a couple of weeks ago not to shave, wax or trim herself up seriously. It was a fact that helped reassure Freya that this was indeed what Sally desperately wanted, that the consent given both verbally and written down was given honestly. Here indeed was a woman truly looking to be degraded, humiliated and taken into the depths of submissive sexual depravity -- from a highly intellectual career woman to a broken plaything purely for the amusement of trusted others.

Of course, the consent had been sought before the order was issued. The decision to ask for it and proceed with this whole crazy scenario had finally been settled on two weeks after Sally's original drunken proposition and a week after she had followed it up with a sober plea over the phone to consider it seriously. Freya and Seth had had a very rare night away at a hotel following a business awards dinner -- fuelled by champagne, a luxurious hotel room and a shower that comfortably accommodated two without either getting cold, they'd made love. As he often did, Seth talked dirty to Freya as he thrust inside her... usually detailing the sordid things he'd do to her if only not for reality. This time though he spoke of Sally's proposition, the two of them then taking it as a starting point before trading scenarios as they fucked. Scenarios that took them down a rabbit hole of filthy thoughts and suggestions until the realisation that this time fantasy could actually become reality.

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"Turn around and face the other way" Freya commanded softly, then delivered the order again with a little more authority. For this to work Freya knew she needed to embrace the sadistic, controlling streak that lay within her. It wasn't going to be easy, this was so far from normal, or anything she'd ever considered previously. She was a middle-aged mother who had been faithful to her husband since they'd first got together over 20 years ago. Her sexual experiences with women were non-existent outside the odd fantasy... and now everything was about to change.

Sally did as she was told, her only hesitation arising from the fact she was standing blindfolded in a strange room and was frightened of falling over. Yes, she was nervous... nervous as hell, but she wanted this so badly. No, it was more than that, she needed this to happen -- her mental health was struggling and her self-esteem non-existent after yet another relationship had ended so brutally. This she knew could be the reset she needed, a chance to truly be taken to rock bottom in order to build herself back up. Yes, in part it was about sex but it was about so much more... a safe, compartmentalised way to totally release her body and soul to be utterly humiliated, degraded and objectified. She trusted Sally and Seth implicitly, she had to, for doing so was the only way she could truly begin to heal.

"Hold your arms out and bend over, you'll find the end of the bedframe to hold onto"

Freya watched as Sally bent slowly over and graspingly reached out for the rail at the foot of the bed. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that Seth too was nervously excited by the evening's proceedings so far and the promise of what lay ahead for his wife and their friend.

"Move your legs wider apart" Freya ordered, surprising herself as she realised she wanted this inspection to be intimately thorough. Sally's bottom was wide and far from pert but with her feet splayed and bent right over her hairy pussy could now be seen. Sally's lips were hidden by a mat of damp pubic hair, betraying her body's visceral excitement. No matter thought Freya to herself, there'll be time enough to change the view over the coming months, and then she took a moment to pause realising that she'd just mentally fully committed to her new role as Sally's twisted therapist.

A week ago when Sally had last visited their home for them to collectively to decide whether to proceed or not, Freya and Seth had both been conflicted. What would it mean for them as a couple; How would they manage the practicalities? How would they find the right head space to do this amid demanding jobs, family and everyday stresses?

Ultimately though they'd agreed to accept the proposition -- maybe it would help spice things up for them, how could it not? Maybe having someone to take out their frustrations on once a week for the next 6 months would be cathartic for them too? The discussion around limits had undeniably been embarrassing, although helped by Sally's resolute commitment and the ability for all to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. The issue of consent too had been a source of much discussion. Freya and Seth had again urged caution, but Sally was unmoveable. From the moment she walked through the door she was to be theirs, the very act of entering the house every week was to be a physical confirmation that she had waived all rights.

Sally had insisted that there must be no safe word -- time being the only limiting factor in that regard. Her body (and in turn a significant portion of her soul) was to be theirs, both when with them and between visits -- appearance, clothing, marks and behaviour were all theirs to choose should they so wish. The only limits... a minimum six-month trial period, nothing illegal, no permanent markings, piercings or tattoos that might be seen by anyone other than intimate partners, and no using her to give direct physical pleasure back to either of them. Seth and Freya, having discussed it already, in turn added that Freya would be the main protagonist with Seth in a supporting to role to watch, film, and guide proceedings as and when Freya looked for direction.

And then came the final request as Sally left, a request quietly asked for knowing that with consent already given and accepted it was to be her final ask of them... "I want my pussy to be ruined. I don't know why but I just do. I'm too old to have children and I'm done with men. Should I find someone in the future they'll need to accept me as I truly am and truly want to be."

"What do you mean by that?" questioned a slightly puzzled Freya.

"I want, I want my pussy to look as used and abused as possible" replied Sally shakily "I want to be taken to my very limits.

"I want you to leave my useless hole permanently open, my lips stretched as long as they can... a constant physical reminder of what we're about to embark upon. I want it, I want it to look gloriously ugly."

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With a week to go before the first session Sally was already theirs, 'a thing', 'an object' that, for at least the next six months, they now effectively owned. The scale of responsibility was both unsettling and exciting -- not least with Sally's last 'ask' for her pussy "to be gloriously ruined... broken".

Initially it had troubled Freya, who as a mother knew what it was like to have herself physically 'rearranged' by giving birth -- why would someone choose to deliberately, permanently and brutally change that part of themselves without the resulting gift of a child? Freya was all too aware of the changes her body had undergone -- not least the struggle to control her bladder when exercising hard and the need to be a little less wanton when having sex.

Lying in bed after Sally had left, Freya and Seth had talked it through. They'd given their word and commitment to proceed with the breaking of their friend and as they explored the possibilities further Freya found herself increasingly turned on by the idea of ensuring Sally got everything she craved and needed. Reaching between her legs Freya found herself already wet at the thought of violating Sally's most intimate space.

"I want to be able to bury my hands in her" Freya murmured to Seth as they lay gently playing with themselves and each other "I want her pussy to be so open that you can see right inside whenever she spreads her legs. I've never even seen another woman's pussy, far less done anything like this... it feels so dirty, so filthy but so exciting" she whispered to her husband as she brought herself to a shuddering orgasm.

The next six days were tortuous for all concerned. Seth could barely concentrate at work, constantly thinking of scenarios to suggest to Freya for the sessions ahead and nervously wondering if Freya and Sally would get cold feet and change their minds. Freya herself kept finding her mind wandering to what Sally had pleaded to them for, but the moments of doubt and nerves were quickly overcome by the way her body responded to the idea, her cheeks flushing and a growing ache between her legs. Freya too had always loved sculpture and reconciled the conflicts within herself by thinking of Sally as the ultimate art project -- a block of malleable, soft, human clay to mould and shape however she saw fit.

Sally meanwhile followed her orders to become that block of clay, a rough, blank canvas of a middle-aged woman for her friends to work on... she cancelled the appointment to get her hair cut and dyed, she wore the most shapeless, unappealing clothing she could find in her wardrobe and binned the razor. Following her break-up she'd already stop shaving her legs and armpits.. "What's the point" she'd thought, and as for a bikini line -- well that had long since been breached.

Previously Sally hadn't ever envisioned that Freya and Seth might want her in the most natural state of appearance, either when she'd first thought of the proposal or over the weeks where it had taken shape and finally been accepted. But now she realised their demand, no, it was an order, made total sense. They understood that she needed to be stripped back to the raw her, humiliated, to be made to visibly flout the societal norms for women, and feel embarrassed and ashamed in front of them.

And that was exactly how Sally was feeling as she bent over clutching the bed rail, displaying all of herself to Freya and Seth for the very first time... degraded, emotional and yet craving more. "Spread them wider" Freya instructed her sternly. Sally complied and felt her sticky labia start to ease themselves apart as she did so. Freya took a deep breath and settled herself - for this next part was going to cross another line, a change from directing voyeur to active participant --and then walked over to stand side-on next to her prostrate friend. She'd already donned a pair of black latex medical gloves, Seth and her deciding that Sally was not to be rewarded with any skin-on-skin contact. The gloves also somehow upheld the sanctity of their faithfulness to each other, the thin material enough to signify that what was happening was separate to what they had and who they were as a couple.

Facing Seth, Freya reached across Sally's flattened lower back before grabbing a fleshy buttock in each hand and pulling them apart. This last act finally exposed Sally's fleshy, dusky pink pussy from its nest of pubic hair for them to both see and inspect. Freya couldn't help but be fascinated, immediately bending forwards over Sally's spread cheeks to get a better look. Sally's outer labia were plump, reminding Freya somewhat strangely of a doughy brioche bun, while her inner lips were long and hung a good inch or so from between them. Above it, Sally's other hole visibly puckered tighter with the realisation that her friends were fully committed and that she was now utterly theirs.

"Time to see what we've got to work with" suggested Seth from his seat in the corner of the room, encouraging his wife to inspect further, before adding with a smile "Looking at her though, I don't think you're going to need that lube she's brought." Sally felt herself redden with the shame of her body betraying her primal needs. Still holding her cheeks apart Freya eased the index finger from each hand into Sally's pussy, realising that she was clenching her own thighs together as she did so, her own body too responding to the situation. "She's surprisingly tight" volunteered Freya "For someone who has had so many failed relationships I sort of assumed she'd feel... well, well-used I guess." Sally reddened further, not so much embarrassed by tightness of her pussy but the humiliation of Freya's comment about her inability, at the age of nearly 50, to have found a partner.

"See how many fingers you can get in" Seth asked his wife as Freya worked her middle fingers in too and then added "see if you can pull your hands apart a little?" Freya tried to follow his instruction but there was little give in Sally's pussy. "Maybe it's nerves but she's going to need a lot of work" Freya remarked, embracing the depraved challenge ahead and her role as twisted sculptress by callously adding with a laugh "When I'm done with this useless, overweight, hairy, wreck of a thing no-one will want to go near this pussy for fear of falling in."

Sally felt tears pool at the corner of her eyes, shame tinged with the pain of four fingers pushing roughly into her. This though was what she needed - the physical abuse married with emotional dismantling. If she'd had her doubts about whether Freya and Seth were the right people to help her they now evaporated.

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Sally hurt, inside and out, body and soul -- and yet she was calmer than she had been for months. The events of the last week had certainly distracted her thoughts away from the more destructive places in her mind. Whether or not being so committed on her descent into depravity and dehumanisation was truly the panacea she so desperately needed, well, only time would tell. But for now at least she was increasingly focussed on becoming whatever Seth and Freya demanded.

Events in Sally's first session with her friends (or should that now be keepers?) had taken an increasingly sadistic turn as Freya's frustrations with her own life and work suddenly found a release in the woman bent over, naked and humiliated in front of her. Having removed her gloved fingers from Sally's pussy Freya had suggested that perhaps the best course of action to start the ruining of their plaything was to get her body used to being full...

"Seth," Freya had gently called "Pass me the lubricant and my Ben Wa balls." Moments later Sally felt a hard nozzle uncomfortably pushed into the opening to her pussy followed by a cold wetness that penetrated her as Freya repeatedly pumped the opaque cum-style lube deep into her. Despite the discomfort Sally groaned loudly with disappointment as Freya pulled the pump's nozzle out -- Seth and Freya chuckled at her involuntary outburst and Sally felt her chest and face redden still further with embarrassment.

Freya stood back for a moment to survey her handiwork -- Sally still bent over clutching the bed's end rail, feet splayed apart and now with lube spilling from her tight pussy, matting her pubes and starting to drip onto the floor -- Freya had to admit, dominating her friend in this way was perversely sexy. Previously she'd seen herself as a more cerebral person, turned on by thoughts, suggestions and romance, not by graphic visuals -- this though was distinctly different. Voyeuristically pornographic, shocking and yet utterly alluring and compulsive.

Freya reached over to the desk and picked up the first set of Ben Wa balls that Seth had placed down for her to use -- ironically, they'd been bought to help tighten her pelvic floor up after childbirth, now they were being used to start loosening another woman's pussy up on her path to being ruined. Held in a line by a silicon strap each of the three hollow stainless-steel balls weighed 50gm each. With two sets to hand Freya knew from her own experience that Sally was about to feel very full indeed, with a heaviness between her legs that she was unlikely to have ever felt before.