Two nights in the motel near the strip club seemed long enough and I assumed my wife could use a rest after two days of intense sex in which she was introduced to the pleasures of other women. I made sure we awoke, then, in time to check out and with a tentative plan of finding a more upscale motel with a pool and simply spend a night or two relaxing without a sexual agenda. However, my parting conversation with Sally stayed in my head as a tantalizing fantasy – turning my wife over to her for a few days, as well as the image of tattoos and cunt rings. So after having my wife wear the top and micro-mini skirt she'd worn for Bill in Washington, we headed for breakfast whereupon I confronted her directly with those possibilities: "What if I told you to get a tattoo?"
"Like Sally's" she asked somewhat matter-of-factly.
"Yes, on your tit and perhaps your ass" I said, deliberately opening the door to the possibility of more than one wholly inconspicuous tattoo.
"I wouldn't want it where anyone in the family might see it," she replied. What was interesting about this reply, of course, was that she didn't object to the idea in principle, but only wanted to be sure we could keep our sexual life style secret. But what surprised me more was my wife's next comment, which clearly encouraged me further: "Sally's tattoos are really sexy."
"Yes they are," adding boldly that "I'll be arranging for you to be marked in an equally sensuous way." Having established that she had no general objection to tattoos, I opened the door to the next issue: "You enjoyed last night, didn't you ... surrendering to Sally and Nancy?"
Though somewhat evasive, she nevertheless replied in a way that could only encourage me to share her further with other women: "Sally and Nancy are very sexy, aren't they?"
"They didn't treat you gently, but you came hard for them" I commented, stating the obvious to gauge my wife's general reaction.
Without even the hint of a blush, she answered "Yes, I know."
"And the wax ... did you enjoy the wax?" I bluntly asked.
"God that hurt ... that hurt a lot" she replied, not answering my question.
"I don't doubt that, but did you enjoy it?"
"I think I did." And then, in the spirt of complete confession: "It certainly made me cum hard."
"And you drank Sally's piss again, didn't you?"
This time there was a definite blush that told me she was more embarrassed by that fact than by her admission of getting pleasure from the pain of hot wax: "Yes I did."
"How do you feel about being made a sub for women?" "Its different and difficult to explain. Maybe because its naughtier, more forbidden, than serving men. They are definitely rougher, less forgiving, than you or Bill."
"You told me last night you'd like to be loaned out to Sally and Nancy ... to be theirs to use and train as they please without my direction or presence. Have you changed your mind?"
"Oh god ... I don't know ... its scarey. I'm not sure what they'd do to me."
"But if I gave you to them to be trained further as a sub slut ...?"
"I'd have to comply, wouldn't I?" she answered, not so much as a question but as a statement of fact that, as with our discussion of tattoos, clearly encouraged me to pursue such possibilities..
"Yes." At that point I rolled over in my mind whether to raise the subject of cunt rings, asking myself 'Should I ask her about them or simply tell Sally to have them installed without warning my wife beforehand?' I decided not to raise the subject. If I were to give the go-ahead to have them installed, I thought it best that, like the hot wax, they should come as a surprise. I then bluntly asked my wife "If I gave you the choice between being given over to Sally and Nancy for the next few days versus, say, driving on to a motel for just a few days relaxation, what would you choose."
I wasn't sure I'd give her that choice, but I was curious as to which alternative she'd prefer. Her initial response, however, was again evasive: "That's two distinctly different alternatives, isn't it?"
"Yes, but which would you choose?"
I had begun to learn how to read my wife when she confronted blunt sexual questions. If she didn't object outright to something, then I knew it had some appeal ... that the imagery or fantasy turned her on. She was definitely more willing to reveal what excited her, but she wasn't yet totally open. Inhibitions remained that needed to be stripped from her. She hadn't yet disallowed anything and I even wondered if there was anything to which she would object with a definitive 'no'. Sluts normally have limits, yet the only limits we'd discussed was the necessity for remaining discrete and not doing anything that would endanger her. The subject of scat hadn't arisen, if only because my wife knew my reaction to shit. Nor had we discussed drugs ... her and my objection to that was self-evident. But other things such as having her be a true whore for money or finding her a lesbian lover hadn't been discussed explicitly even though I held fantasies there. It was still 'learn as you go' for us.
My wife sat there for a minute, seemingly unable to choose until she asked, in a telltale way "how would you feel if I learned to enjoy women as much as men?"
That question, of course, answered mine: As much as the prospect might scare her, she wanted to be loaned out. I answered forthrightly "It would be incredibly erotic for you to be a bisexual slut."
My wife continued with her questions by way of revealing her preferences: "Sally's perfect, isn't she ... she's really sexy and enjoyed fucking you? You'd like to fuck her again, wouldn't you?"
Being in a conversation that sought blunt and honest answers, I answered forthrightly: "Yes, I want to fuck her again." I had in fact enjoyed fucking Sally, especially when my wife was 'forced' to watch. And not only would I want to have her again, but my wife was clearly encouraging me to do so. But I wanted her to state that fact directly: "Do you want me to fuck her again?"
This time there was a discernable pause in her reply, for surely she knew the implications of her answer for our marriage. But her answer was simple: "Yes I do. It was incredibly erotic watching you fuck her. I felt maybe a small touch of jealousy wishing it was me ... but being 'forced' to watch you having sex with another woman, especially a woman who turned me on, was exciting."
You might think that by now I'd be adjusted to my wife's transformation into a slut, but in fact it seemed, especially after this conversation, that she'd adjusted to it even more fully than I. Despite the equivocal way in which I'd raised certain issues, she had in so many words accepted the prospect of being tattooed, encouraged me to loan her out without supervision for further training as a bi sub slut, revealed her taste for women, and explicitly encouraged me to fuck another woman. The revelations, though, went in both directions, since I had now told her that I wanted her to be a bisexual slut with perhaps even a lesbian lover. Thus, our conversation had reached an unambiguous conclusion: I was going to loan her out to Sally. Not only that, but it was going to be largely up to Sally as to whether my wife would end the week with tattoos or cunt rings. So, stepping away from the table I announced, before heading to the restaurant pay phone, "I'm going to call Sally now."
My wife sat there, expressionless, and when I reached Sally at her apartment she told me to come over anytime ... she had no plans for the day. Nancy was working as a waitress that afternoon, but would be off work herself by evening. "I was hoping you'd call ... in fact, I suspected you would." Then she asked "are you bringing your wife over to loan her out to me for several days or for simply another session like we had at your motel room?"