Walter's Exciting Life

Walter Winston, who went by other names depending on the person and the situation, cracked open his eyes in response to the buzz of his alarm clock. With an exaggerated grunt he rolled from his side to his back, quickly tenting the sheets with his 'morning wood'. His wife, Margaret, snuggled in tight and in a drowsy voice said, "are you sure you really need to go in early this morning, Sir Walter?" Her hand traced a line down his chest, and she took his erection tightly in her petite hand. "I've got an itch that needs a little scratching, and I think you have the perfect tool for the job." Sometimes she was Margaret, his wife. On rare occasions, she was Mistress Maggie. But it was obvious to him that she was slipping into her predominant role, that of sex slave Meg.

He kissed his semi-asleep wife on the forehead, and reluctantly pulled himself from the underneath the bedcovers. "Sorry babe, I have to get in early today if I am going to get out at a decent hour. But I promise you that I'll make up for lost time once I get back." His erection twitched in the cool air in response to his intent..

The steam from the shower quickly filled the bathroom as the hot water cascaded of Walter's body. He liked the smooth feel of his mostly hairless body. Margaret had convinced him sometime ago to shave himself every few days. She liked the feel, and it made some of their 'games' a bit easier when it came to cleanup. He admitted that dips in the pool were more relaxing, too.

When he was done, he quickly dressed himself and headed down to the breakfast table, where his wife awaited him with fresh coffee, a cheese danish, and the morning paper.. Walt looked over at the woman,, and felt his erection start to grow again as he planned to tease her. "Where's your collar, Meg? I thought that with a day off, you would be wearing it - and only it - as you went about your slave duties." Her eyes flashed at him in panic at the thought that he would leave her in 'slave' mode all day, but he cut off her reply. "Oh wait, that's right. I sent it out for some new adornments. I guess you can go about as Margaret then, and not as slave Meg. But Meg better be waiting for me when I get home."

Walter noted the time and quickly finished a newspaper article he wasn't really reading, kissed his wife on the forehead again, and headed out the door. He had to adjust the erection in his pants; the thought of what he was going to do to Meg when he got home was distracting him.

"Don't forget we are going to dinner and the movies with the Jacobsons tonight," she called, as he shut the door; he let out a quick grunt to let her know he had heard. 'Fucking Jacobsons', he thought. One of these days he was going to get Fran Jacobson alone, and find out if she was as good as she teased. He was a little fed up with the constant sexual tension she created, especially since Walter hadn't been able to take advantage of it yet. The tongue of hers spit out double entendres faster than a machine gun shot bullets. He wondered if she were as talented at licking cock or, better yet, the pussy of the dominatrix version of his wife. It would be fun to see Mistress Maggie work her over for a while. Walt put the thought aside for another time, and concentrated on driving.

One of the reasons that Walter liked to leave for work early was that the lack of traffic allowed him to open his car up a little on the road, and he got to pretend he was a spy or a cop caught in a deadly high speed pursuit. Not that much could outrun his Mustang in an open stretch. It was a Shelby special, the modifications a special gift from the man himself. Even in third gear, he was having no problem outdistancing everything else on the road. The only thing that would have made the ride complete would have been one of his slaves with her head in his lap. He loved getting head while he drove.

Walter arrived at the offices of Mirimac Associates at precisely seven thirty a.m., and had his computer up and running less than five minutes later. The routine work he needed to finish that day was quickly out of the way, and Walt settled down to read the exploits of his favorite secretarial pool. One of the woman, a miss Hanna Gunderman, was getting married in a week, and the pictures of her bachelorette party now graced the monitor of Walt's computer. She may have been a virgin when she started dating her beloved but, from the smile on her face in those pictures, she had learned a lot about sex since getting engaged. The two strippers covering her face in spunk in the one picture probably taught her a lot by themselves. He filed the images away for another day, after she was married, when he needed her to do a little side work for him.

Outside his door Sally, the office receptionist, sat with her back to him at her own desk and typed away on her own keyboard. She knew that he was watching, and slowly shifted her legs so he could see the stocking seam that ran up the rear of her legs. When you combined that with the higher-than-needed-for-the-office heels she was wearing, her legs became so much more than just appendages. In the 1930's they referred to legs like that as 'gams', and Walter liked that word as it fit perfectly. They were the promise of sex, wrapped and lifted the way they were. The 'threat' of sex was also an apt description.

"Sally, could you come in here for a moment," he called to her. He watched as her hand surreptitiously slipped up her skirt and, after a moment of wiggling, pulled down a pair of panties. With a casual gesture, Sally slipped first one leg and then the other out of the red silk, which was then deposited in a side drawer. Sally took her time in reapplying her lipstick, smack her lips once before blotting them on a piece of paper, then got out of her chair. She looked in through his office door and smiled a most evil smile.

"Coming, Mr. Winston," she said, as she picked up her notepad and an available pen. Just loud enough for Walt to hear her, she said, "and I hope more than once." The sway of her hips let him know what she was in the mood for, and the obvious lack of panties meant that she was going to get it one way or another. Of course, Walt knew that she wouldn't have reapplied her lipstick unless she meant to leave a mark somewhere, so as she entered the door he unbuckled his pants. A slight gesture of his hand later, and they were alone with the door closed.

Walt motioned for her to come around his side of the desk, and he showed her the computer screen. Sally eased herself into his lap, and wrapped an arm around his neck as she licked his ear. He went along with the roleplay. "Will this be...oral dictation, Mr. Winston? I thought you might enjoy something else, but I know that your drive in can be a little lonely." With a single gesture, she undid the zipper on her skirt and shrugged out of it. Walt longed to feel those silk stockings rub against his legs as he bent her over this desk and fucked her, but another idea popped into his head.

"There are a few discrepancies in the Gerard account; I need you to track down these four vendors, and get copies of their invoice statements for the last six months." Sally began to grind into his lap, and her free hand quickly freed his erection. "I'm afraid somebody is going to have to take the heat for this one, and since you were the one that inputted the data...well, you need to be punished, don't you?" Sally let out a little groan, either in acknowledgment or in response to Walt's thumb which had somehow found it's way to her swollen clit. "I think that your punishment is me in your mouth, but not between your legs. We'll fill that with a dildo, and belt to hold it in place for the day. Now, get to sucking!" Sally dropped to her knees and obediently brought her master to orgasm with her talented mouth and tongue. When she was done, she made a note on her pad, 'remind boss of other mistakes'. As she wrote with one hand, she slid open his desk drawer and pulled out a large dildo, as well as the harness which would keep it in place inside her.

Sally finished her note and as she went to leave, she said, "If there is nothing else, Mr. Winston, I'll get right on this." She smiled that evil grin again, and sashayed to the doorway. As an afterthought, she picked up her skirt and pulled it back in place. "I think a buttplug is in order, too, don't you? Not for me, mind you, unless you really want to punish me. But I thought about what you said yesterday, and I've decided to take control of Peter. Complete control." Walt remembered her live-in boyfriend, Peter. Walt had suggested she make him her slave, but didn't tell her it was so he would be more submissive when he was cuckolded. It was one of Walter's favorite scenarios - taking a man's woman in front of him - and Sally would make for a hell of a dominatrix. "If he isn't going to give in to my desires, he can get out of my life. I can get all the cock I need at work, right here." He smiled at the thought, and cleared his throat to reply.

"One other thing - I've decided to use up some of my vacation time and take the afternoon off; I hope you have a nice weekend." Walt pulled his pants back up, and noted the amount of red lipstick she had deposited on his now flagging cock. She was right about him giving her all the cock she needed; her lipstick smears made it almost - almost - all the way to the base of his cock. "Remember - Peter gets one orgasm for every five he gives you. If, that is, you are in a generous mood. You need to train him right. I hope this weekend is everything you hoped it would be. Keep up the good work."

"You too, sir." Sally adjust her skirt again, stopped at her desk to pick up her purse, and headed to the ladies room. Walter knew his corruption of the girl was complete, and that she would do anything for him. Peter was lucky; if Walt had been in a bad mood, Sally would be going home tonight with a loose pussy and a creampie for Peter to eat.

Walter left for lunch a few minutes after twelve, confident that the afternoon's excursions were going to be made all the better by the fact that he wasn't going to be at work and yet didn't have any chores to do. He slipped behind the wheel of his mustang, and idled his way out of the parking lot. No chores at home, really, but he had a number of places to stop at before he got home. He was moving into full domme mode, and smiled at the thought of Meg's torment tonight. Now, there was a pussy that needed a royal fucking.

His first stop after a quick lunch was a hobby shop, where he picked up some wiring and electronics for a toy train he was hoping to repair. Well, that was what he told the proprietor, who was more the anxious to sell him the remote chip system and controller. Normally they were used to run little engines around somebody's basement, but Walt had other ideas. He was rigging them up to a series of vibrators and low voltage contacts which would either stimulate or shock Meg's most sensitive areas. In the next strip mall over was an adult store that sold everything else he was looking for, and in matching colors.

When he was finished with his first little diversion, Walter ran in to the local pharmacy for some eye drops , then went home to get ready for dinner. Something about movie theater air always dried out his eyes. Besides, a couple of drops in a certain man's scotch tonight might be called for. The night would be over quick if poor Mark came down with a case of the runs. Another shower to wash off all traces of lipstick, with a touch up shave where he missed a few spots this morning. A black silk posing pouch to surprise his wife when she reached inside his pants later. The dragon ring with the insignia facing inward; he could turn it around in an instant to signal Margaret that she has in the role of Meg and that he was now in domme mode. At that point, she was nothing more than his slave.

Margaret was still working on her hair while Walt put on his nicest suit, a charcoal gray pinstripe with a maroon tie, and he resigned himself to the fact that he would forever be ready long before his wife. He had tried punishing her once for being so slow, but soon realized that the pleasure he got from spanking her was a pittance when compared to how she looked when she took her time. He had learned to never force her routines. He could always punish her for any tardiness after the fact, but he preferred her to look her best when they went out.

The rest of the time he spent waiting was filled with an NCIS episode in the den; it was one of his favorites, and not just because of the peculiar 'goth' forensics scientist whom he thought attractive in a way. The character was a never ending source of ideas for Walt in his dominant role. His wife now had a number of spiked and studded collars, and more than once he had her dress up like a naughty schoolgirl. When she wore the black wig with the pony tails, well, let's just say Walter never lasted long during the scene.

When she was ready, he led his wife out to his car and let her in before swinging around to the driver's side and settling in himself. Meg noted that the dragon ring was already prominent. "I got you some presents, slave. I want you to put them on before we get to the Jacobsons. When you are done, make sure to test the remote." Meg looked at him with curiosity, but did as she was told. When she set off the four shocks (one on the pearl choker on her neck, one on each of her nipple rings, and one on her clit bell), they elicited a yelp of pain and pleasure. Meg knew it was going to be a very interesting night, indeed, if she was going to make it through without giving up her secrets. Her dress dutifully adjusted to that of a prim and proper wife once again, she settled back in to her seat. Walt pushed another bag at her, and she pulled a pair of rubber pants out. There were two small dildoes on the inside, and a medium sized dildo on the outside. When worn, it would fill two of her holes but give her something else in return. He saw the look in her eyes. "No, not now, but put it in your purse for later." She folded it over, and stuffed in to the bottom of her purse. Meg was pretty sure she knew what he intended to do.

The drive to pick up the Jacobson's was uneventful, and they arrived with plenty of time to spare. "Here is your control, Sir," she said, as they got out of the car. "I hope that I am deserving of any pain or pleasure you deign to give me." Walt wrapped and arm around the waist of his slave, and they went to get the Jacobsens.

Mark and Fran Jacobsen were the perfect couple: he was the super-smart stock trader, and she the trophy wife. Walt admitted that he was handsome, but thought that he was rather pompous. "I wonder which would make him scream more,' he thought. 'Seeing his wife's ass impaled on my cock, or getting fucked in his own ass by Mistress Maggie's strapon? I think tonight is the night we lead you two down the rode to debauchery'.

They made a nice foursome as they took in the latest Leonardo Decaprio film and followed it with dinner and drinks at a posh restaurant. At one point, Peter need to use the rest room, and Walter leaned over to his wife. "When he comes back, take Fran to the rest room. I know how hard you have been working on her. Now's the time to see if she will take the final step. Don't come back without her panties; she can wear the device I gave you earlier. Don't worry, she should be very pliable - I spiked her first drink, and her eyes are nice and glossy. Oh, and make sure you get pictures. Tell her 'the bet' story. I think she'll fall for it." Meg nodded to her master. They had played this game before. She knew what it would take to convince her friend to wear the device, even as a joke, and didn't expect anything to come of it. Most likely she would remove them before her husband - prim and proper Mark - ever got to see them. But Meg would have the pictures; pictures that would allow Mistress Maggie to enter the couple's life.

The conversation over drinks tended to drift into whatever Mark was doing at work and while Walter didn't mind, the effects of his drink and disinterest soon became apparent to his wife and she broke the evening up. Mark had drunk quite a bit of scotch during the evening, and was now heavily slurring his words. As they got up, Meg pressed Fran's panties into Walt's hand, and he glanced at Fran's skirt. There was most definitely a small bulge in the front. Fran turned bright red when she realized he knew, and gave back a little impish grin. Maybe she wouldn't be taking it off all too soon. Walt leaned over to her as they parted the restaurant and whispered, "Oh my, Fran, is that a huge dildo under your skirt, or are you just happy to see me?" She let out a little drunken giggle in response. "You cost me a lot of money - I bet Margaret five hundred dollars you wouldn't wear it home. But I'll get it back, I know. She bet a thousand that you would be using it on Mark tonight." Fran gave him a 'don't be too sure' look.

The foursome was quiet inside the car as the Winstons dropped off the Jacobsons; Walter was not in the mood to talk and his wife was lost in her own thoughts. There was no bet, there never was, but Meg had convinced her friend there was and that she would split the winnings with her. Of course, Fran would have to provide incontrovertible evidence of the night. They both smiled when they dropped off Fran and her unwitting husband, then Walter played with the remote all the way home. At every green light, Meg received a shock, and she sat through every red light with all the vibrators buzzing. As they pulled onto their street, her body was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat from the alternating pain and pleasure. Master and slave roles could be damned. She was hornier than hell, and was going to get fucked by her husband, and it better be soon.

When they arrived at their own home, it was agreed that no nightcap was needed, and they headed off to bed. Walt barely had his suit hung up before Meg was wrestling him to the bed, the earlier electronic adornments gone in a flash of lust. He flopped flat on his back. and she impaled herself on his still rising member. She was shuddering from her first orgasm within a minute, then took her time as she controlled the action for the next hour. When she finally drew his own orgasm out of him, sex slave 'Meg' left her master 'Sir Walter' completely drained and very content.

Walter snuggled down under the covers, kissed his wife 'goodnight' and, as he drifted off to sleep, wondered what adventures the weekend might bring him.

---oooOOOooo---

Well, there you have it. A typical day in Walter's exciting life. Of course, if you would like to know how Walter's day

really

went, you need do nothing more than return to the beginning of the story and read only the first sentence of each paragraph. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. My apologies to James Thurber, the inspiration for this story.