Slut 2 Fuck Ch 05

CHAPTER FIVE: THE CURTAIN RISES

Story so far:

As told in Chapters One through Four ('Setting the Scene', 'Assembling the Cast', 'Following the Script' and 'Dress Rehearsal'), Sam becomes a personal trainer to a married couple named Laura and Chris.

Her training of them soon evolves from fitness instruction to total control and she moves into their home before taking over their lives, emptying their wallets, keeping Chris in chastity, and pimping Laura. A list of FAQs explains life for them under Sam's supervision. Eventually, Steve, a school buddy of Chris, joins the action. He becomes Sam's lover and co-Dom of Laura and Chris. The plot thickens when Sam arranges the divorce of Chris and Laura primarily so she can transfer their remaining financial assets to herself tax-free.

Sam is only 23, 5'6" of trim muscle, with new enhanced boobs, citron-yellow hair and an elfin-face. Laura is a pretty, almost 28 yr old, green eyed brunette with a 34D chest and great legs. Chris is the same age as Laura, with caramel hair, brown eyes, spectacles and he now lives in a steel chastity tube. Steve is 28 yrs old, with brown eyes and handsome, faintly villainous good looks.

Sam's pre-wedding Hen Night began as a modest affair.

She invited five other bachelorettes who constituted those she thought of as her best friends; they were a couple of other personal trainers, two clubbing friends and one old school mate from where she grew up. She hadn't seen any of them much in a while and they had a fun evening in a private room, drinking champagne, eating Sushi, and catching up on old times and new gossip.

They were all impressed with Sam's obvious success; her designer clothes, the Hindmarch handbag, her Cartier watch, diamond necklace and sparkling engagement ring. They particularly admired her new boobs. At 23, she'd evidently scored herself a mysterious husband with a fat wallet. They were even more amazed by the after-dinner entertainment Sam had laid on.

First, a female stripper performed a private hardcore show for them. If they hadn't drunk so many bottles of Bollinger, the girls might have been more embarrassed. The stripper was pretty - very pretty - and she somehow seemed a bit posh for her line of work. She was brunette, with shoulder length dark hair, high cheekbones, and green eyes visible under the spotlight. She was tall, maybe 5' 9" or so, with big tits, long model's legs and a lissom body.

"Phew, Sam, where'd ya find her?" asked Kelly, an Aussie trainer.

"On the net." Sam shouted, over the thumping strip music. Kelly was lesbian and she could barely take her eyes off the undressing dancer.

A waiter arrived with another magnum of champagne. He filled glasses generously, ignoring their whistles and lecherous comments.

The stripper performed admirably, like a true artiste. She was obviously a well brought up girl but maybe she'd fallen on difficult times; perhaps she had a problem paying her rent? Eventually, she was topless, gyrating and wiggling in just a thong, her svelte hips and large boobs rotating like pineapples balanced in teaspoons.

Then the show really kicked off. An oiled black male dancer entered the room and began stripping as well, to the whoops and catcalls of the Hen Party. He was huge; probably 6' 6" tall with pectorals and abdomen in proportion.

The audience was riveted as the topless stripper got down on her knees and removed the male's thong, releasing a black truncheon in proportion to the rest of him. She opened her red-lipped mouth and began sucking him.

"Wow! This is amazing." Jana yelled into Sam's ear, emptying her champagne glass. They watched the ebony-ivory blowjob from just a few feet away.

The same handsome waiter returned with his magnum to top up their glasses. He was dressed smartly in a white jacket and dark trousers, and black spectacles that made him look a bit like Clark Kent. His averted his eyes from the obscene cabaret taking place right in front of him.

Sam's friends were just like most other groups of young single women on a night out with alcohol and music. They began chanting for the man to cum in the woman's mouth and sure enough he eventually did. His knees buckled slightly and he grinned in an orgasmic rictus, throwing his head upwards.

His first spurt disappeared down the strippers' throat, then he pulled out and the remaining creamy lava erupted from his black volcano into the spotlight. There was an awed scream from the spectators as he spewed what appeared to be several weeks' worth of magma all over the pretty white face.

*** *** ***

Q24. Can I book Slut-2-Fuck with my wife / partner?

A24. Yes. Slut-2-Fuck will fully interact with, or serve, your wife or girlfriend in a threesome, twosome or as solo entertainment. Encourage your lady to explore her bisexual or dominant streak with a compliant female submissive.

*** *** ***

Their wedding began as a sedate registry office affair.

Sam wore white, as every bride should be entitled to do once. She had rented a lovely silk wedding dress with a veil and the trimmings. But underneath she had put on the most sluttish attire imaginable. Gobs of fresh white semen covered her lace knickers and stockings, oozing between her thighs.

Chris and Steve were both wearing identical dark suits. It was hard to tell the groom and best man apart. Which was exactly how Sam planned it!

And, even though it was a cold wintry day, the birthday girl was dressed in a tiny skirt, seamed silk stockings, stiletto heels and a tight blouse that revealed way too much cleavage. Her chilled nipples were stiff and way too visible for wedding attire. Laura was not only celebrating her 28th birthday today. She was Sam's maid of honour. And she was Chris's ex-wife.

Kelly, a honey-haired Aussie personal trainer, and Fred, Laura's most regular and trusted punter, completed the select congregation, along with the registrar.

The legal formalities before the wedding vows included a final financial 'Clean Break' order signed by Laura, giving Chris sole ownership of all their joint assets and forfeiting forever any rights she might ever have had as his ex-wife.

Next came a comprehensive Pre-Nup agreement between Chris and Sam. Not only was there an immediate transfer of all his assets from Chris's name into Sam's sole ownership, but in the event of their divorce, all parties agreed that she would retain everything, and he would get absolutely nothing.

All the documents were properly signed and witnessed. The whole process took just a few important minutes. The registrar then performed the service and Sam and Chris said their vows, after which they were declared husband and wife.

The six of them, excluding the registrar, then returned to Sam's house. There was one final chore to make the marriage one hundred per cent legal. It had to be consummated! Leaving Steve, Laura, Kelly and Fred downstairs, Sam impatiently tugged Chris upstairs by his hand, to cheers from three of the other four.

She lay on the bed in her white wedding dress and giggled.

"I've been waiting for this day to come ever since I first met you."

Chris stood in his suit at the end of the bed, looking at her.

"But ..." he said, obviously shocked. "I don't believe it. You planned all this?"

She gave him a crooked smile, patting her dress meaningfully between her legs.

"From Day One. All of it. Especially taking you for every penny you had."

She watched him kneel dutifully and start raising the hem of her dress. He stared into her eyes. She could see everything she wanted inside them simultaneously; devotion, submission, awe and, yes, fear.

He pushed it, and her dress continued to rise, like a theatre curtain rising slowly to reveal the set of a play.

"And whoring your ex." She continued. "I planned that too, as soon as I knew what she was like."

She sat up on her elbows so she could admire the mess too. Ten minutes before the ceremony, the Best Man had fucked her in the registry office toilets. She had chosen an 'ouvert' pair of lace knickers, the kind invented by French courtesans so that they could have illicit fucks without removing their dresses or underwear. There was a front slit, similar to the opening in a pair of male briefs.

He blinked. And then shook his head at her in amazement.

She winked back at him. After all, she was just the kind of woman he'd always wanted to marry.

"And above all," she sighed, "having you pleasure me with your tongue."

*** *** ***

Chris's mind flashed back to the first time, that Sunday morning she had first made him do this to her. That time it had been Tim's, today it was Steve's, but what was the difference?

One thing was for sure. It wasn't his.

He lowered his face obediently to her parted thighs. He was still dressed in his wedding suit and tie, still constrained down below by his tight steel tube. How many husband's get married wearing a chastity belt?

He put his mouth to the silky material of her underwear and slipped his tongue through the open slit, then into the drenched folds of her pussy.

"Mmm." She moaned appreciatively. "Here cums the bride."

He gasped hot breath into her. Even just a few words from her could thrill him.

"This is it, my darling." Her voice was throaty, excited, like she had already been building to a climax before he started. "Consummation by tongue. Not that little, locked up thing of yours."

He grimaced as his expanding flesh met hard steel. His tube was 3 ¼ inches in length and his dick hung about 3 inches when totally soft, so it allowed him to get about 10 per cent of an erection, sufficient to allow just a trickle of his excited blood to start flowing. Enough to taunt him with unfulfilled desire.

"Don't worry." She announced, after he'd finished and she'd clutched the sheet in a shrieking climax. "You can cum when we get back from our honeymoon."

*** *** ***

Q25. Can I book Slut-2-Fuck's husband to join me / us?

A25. It depends. Slut-2-Fuck's husband (S2FH) is not usually in attendance. He is busy working in an office throughout the week. However, for those men who enjoy the idea of fucking a wife while her husband watches, special arrangements can be made to book time with Slut-2-Fuck and S2FH together. S2FH can be restrained in bondage, made to stand in the corner or outside the room, or he can lick one of his wife's holes while you fuck the other one. He can be naked, or dressed in a butler's uniform, or a pink ballet tutu or other costumes. Email his Mistress with your requests and to agree dates and rates.

*** *** ***

Laura spent her next three weeks in full time service to Fred.

He was a wealthy widower of 60 who lived alone in a large house with just his two cats. A weekly cleaner, the internet and escort girls were normally his only company. He had discovered Slut-2-Fuck because of his penchant for Bdsm.

Despite Fred's love of corporal punishment, he was considered trustworthy and safe. Laura, and more importantly Sam, had trusted him to take sole charge of the slut during Sam's glorious, long honeymoon.

Anyway, the daily fee Fred was shelling out for Slut-2-Fuck's domestic services over the 21 days was incentive enough! It more than covered the price of the beachfront suite in the luxurious Caribbean hotel Sam was staying in with Steve.

Fred had given his normal weekly cleaner a holiday, in order that he and Laura would be uninterrupted for days on end. So Laura was made to work incredibly hard to earn the cost of the honeymooners' luxury; Sam's spa treatments and champagne, Chris's windsurfing and tennis lessons, their lobsters and sunset cruises were all paid for with long days of domestic and sexual service.

Fred was a man with an almost insatiable appetite for blowjobs, although his age meant that he could only manage to cum two or three times a day nowadays. So Laura spent many hours on her knees, or lying alongside him on his bed, sucking and kissing and handling his sixty year old equipment. He smoked cigars and drank black coffee and, as a result, his watery semen was pungent and bitter.

"On your tongue, my dear." He would command. "Hold it there."

She knelt, looking up at him as he slouched in his armchair. He was more than twice her age (he had calculated that he was already 32 and had been married 7 years with a daughter when Laura was born). He was dressed in just a velvet gown and slippers, smoking a Havana.

"Now, slowly, trill it round your tongue. Gargle it nicely."

He wasn't that ugly. Not for a man of sixty. His face was red and round and jovial. But from the angle Laura was looking at, she always felt slightly nauseous. He was bald on top with a close-cut ring of grey hair above his ears. He wore half glasses for reading and they bounced unused on his chest from a cord round his neck. He had a jowly double chin and a shrub of hairs in his nostrils. His skin was pale and saggy. His belly was stout and spotted with grey and white hairs. His balls hung down like old walnuts.

Nevertheless, Laura tilted her neck and warbled his sharp, salty liquid round her mouth, up into her palate, tasting the harsh sourness. She kept her gaze humbly on him while she did it. He enjoyed seeing her distaste and shame as her eyes watered.

"Okay." He chuckled, after waiting a full minute. "You can swallow it now."

His second favourite activity was for her to rim his bottom, usually in the mornings, at the end of his breakfast. He drank black coffees and ate Danish pastries that he stored in bulk in the freezer, to be defrosted overnight. Laura heated a couple up for him each morning. He sat in his velvet gown and read the Daily Telegraph at the wooden breakfast table.

Under the table, Laura knelt and kissed him good morning; starting at his feet, then his shins, knees, inner thighs, eventually his sweaty scrotum. He slid back into the chair, so his buttocks were perched over the edge, giving her mouth access to his hairy bottom. Above her, she could hear the rustle of him turning the pages, the occasionally slurp of coffee. Then the flatulence would begin.

He'd wait until her tongue was deep inside his anus, 'burrowing for truffles' as he called it, and then without any warning or apology, he would carelessly let rip a blast of warm, stinking air into her face. Laura's duty was to keep tonguing his passage as if nothing had happened, breathing in deeply like it was the most normal thing in the world.

She'd hear another rustle as he simply turned a page, and another belch as he drained his coffee. After the first fart, there was always the dread of more. She licked and kissed his damp bottom and waited, knowing it was only a question of when, not if.

He occasionally reminded her of the purpose of this.

"Show a little more humility, please young lady. It's only air."

After all, he would remind her, it wasn't for his pleasure. It was merely to train her. To teach her where she now ranked in the social order.

It amazed her how long and loud some of them could be. The inner cheeks of his bottom rippled and slapped against each other, in turn smacking her own cheeks, with the force of the gust. But she continued to 'burrow' regardless, her face and tongue in his anus, taking shallow breaths into her squashed nostrils.

And for the millionth time she asked herself why?

Only a few months ago, she'd been a 'normal' woman, living a 'normal' life. To be reduced in such a short time to this? Not just a teensy bit of sexual kink and submission like plenty of people with a certain type of beta personality.

No, reduced to this. About a thousand rungs lower than 'normal' subs. She despised herself for having allowed it to happen. And ironically that's why she deserved everything that had happened.

It was like a masochistic vicious circle. The more guilt and shame she felt about it, the more she knew she deserved it. So here she was, on her knees, while some old man farted in her face. She hated and craved the humiliation at the same time. It wasn't Fred who was revolting here. No, she disgusted herself.

Laura. Slut-2-Fuck. She was the disgusting one.

Her only relief was that his wind didn't always smell too strongly. He even commented jokingly that 'his bark was worse than his bite'. But at other times, when his bowel was full and he'd eaten a rich dinner the night before, the stench could be incredible, like sulphurous chemicals.

Yet his expectations never wavered. She was to remain licking and breathing as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes, he'd push aside his newspaper and peer down at her, as a cloud of particularly foul scented air circled them.

"Look at me."

She'd blink up at him and try to control her revulsion, with his hairy balls tickling her eyes. His own expression was enquiring, amused but stern.

"Humility, please, young lady." He'd remind her. "Show proper humility."

Of course, there was plenty of time each day when he was busy doing other things and he would ignore her. Like when he was investing his stock portfolio, or speaking to his broker or financial adviser, or having long Skype calls with his daughter and grandchildren in Hong Kong. Mostly at those times, Laura worked as a skivvy round the house, dusting, polishing, cleaning, scrubbing and many jobs that a normal cleaner wouldn't do.

Occasionally, he would summon her over while he was on Skype. He ordered her to suck his cock, out of view of the screen. He chatted happily with his daughter who was three years older than Laura like any normal caring father. He would say hello to his 5 and 3 year old grandchildren onscreen while Laura knelt and nuzzled his erection and listened to him coo-cooing the youngsters.

Whenever he was unimpressed by her efforts as a skivvy, he would curl a finger at her and say.

"I think that bottom of yours needs a bit of spanking, doesn't it?"

*** *** ***

Q26. Can I have sex with S2FH?

A26. Sadly, not at present. S2FH is quite handsome, 6' 1" and heterosexual (see photo in private gallery). He is also a submissive wimp cuckold who lives in strict 24/7 chastity. His primary duty is to act as the household's basic breadwinner to support his Mistress and his wife. As time goes by, Mistress intends to explore his consensual limits to include similar services to those provided by Slut-2-Fuck. Currently he can be booked to perform manual and oral fluff and clean up duties. He accepts a caning (6 strokes) and is learning to kiss the feet and rim the man who is, or soon will be, fucking his wife.

*** *** ***

Sam stared longingly into Chris's eyes and chinked glasses.

They were sitting on the deck of a restaurant overlooking the ocean as a gorgeous pink sun melted into the horizon. They had enjoyed another blissful day.

"All well at home?" he asked.

She nodded. Fred and Kelly had both emailed her updates. And earlier she had logged into Slut-2-Fuck's account. The month long break in her services had created pent up demand. Her schedule was booked intensively for weeks after their return.

They ordered from the expensive a la carte menu; steak for Steve and barracuda for Sam. Steve selected a US$ 200 bottle of French white burgundy.

"I could get used to this." Steve sighed. "Being your lover."

Sam smiled at him and their eyes met again.

Was this the moment?

She had almost never been nervous in her life before. She just wasn't that type of person. But she felt a tightening in her stomach. She took a sip from her glass of champagne.

"Not my lover." She said. "My husband."

He smiled, misunderstanding. "Yeah. Helping cuckold your husband."

"No." She shook her head gently. "My husband."

He frowned, interested. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that as soon as we can arrange it, I'm going to divorce Chris and then I can marry you." She bit her lip. "If you're on for that, of course."