Wife School Ch 01

Loving Wives - Everyone wants a better wife. Some people get them.

Author's notes: Warning! This is an extramarital sex story. This hopefully will be hot enough to be a whack off story for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.

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All characters are eighteen or older at the time any sexual contact in this story takes place. In fact in this story none of the participants is under thirty.

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Debra is on her knees, her long black hair waiving like a pompom as she moves on her knees, from man to man in the room. She is naked. She now has to spend twenty hours a week naked on her knees getting fucked or sucking cock to get twenty hours on the clock as a temp. Her 38D breasts bounce with every stroke, playthings for the boys, no longer a source of joy for her. Her round rump is prized for bending over a chair, as they pound into her soft behind. Today she is playing the two minute egg timer game, on her knees before the office crew, Hispanic like herself, but willing to exploit any weakness. From cock to cock, her mouth takes each one. She has learned the skill of deep throat, and uses it.

Once a proud mother, once a proud business owner, she is now reduced to being the company slut, forced to put out this week to get enough hours next week to keep her son and father from starving. Every week there is a new degradation. At first it is one man - her boss - one blow job. Then the man who works for him. Then another and another. Then the lunchtimes started, where they bent her over a chair and just used whatever hole they preferred, usually two at a time.

Tonight's indignity, the Friday party before the cleaning crew, is an additional two men who don't even work for the company, not even Hispanics like all the rest, but black. Leroy and Marmaduke. She was certain Marmaduke wasn't his name, but he presents his big black cock and she sucks it. In, out, breathe. In, out, breathe. Stroke the long shaft with her hand, suck on the tip with her mouth, then bury the dark shaft in her throat. In, out, breathe. In, out, breathe. The timer rings and she shuffles on the carpet to the next man.

This is Leroy. At least ten inches of solid dark meat, she can barely get it in her mouth. She works to get it all the way down, but she cannot. He pulls out and just bends her over the chair, shoving that hard cock all the way up inside her without any mercy. Debra sees stars, as Leroy fucks her, she feels her legs shake, and she tries to cry out, but her body is spasming so hard nothing comes out. She just looks like an open mouthed fish, flopping on his cock. They decide she needs to take care of the men she left hanging, and they all start to use her face.

One by one, she deep throats them and they come in her mouth, on her face, in her hair. But Leroy just keeps pounding her, and her legs quiver like jello and she cannot stop coming. Leroy is the perfect size to make her climax continuously, and it is all she can do not to drown in the spunk they spray in her throat. They all fuck her face, coming one by one without any timer, any order. Leroy fucks her until he cums inside her, leaving her draped over the chair, unable to move. She hears the vacuum cleaners of the cleaning crew, and knows they might take her to where they could use her for the rest of weekend, maybe even across the border into Mexico, where she'd never be heard from again. Somehow she manages to stumble off into the office where her clothes are, determined to beg her husband to take her back. He's never done anything as bad as she has, and she can see if she does not quit right now, this very second, it will eat her life. Her husband can ask her for anything, and she will do it for him, if he will only take her back. Her shame and guilt drowns her like she is at the bottom of the deepest sea, barely able to see a glimmer of hope above her head. The worst day of her life has arrived.

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Debra had let me down. She moved to another city. She started up a business - which failed, wrecking our credit. She left me high and dry, then came back crying, pleading on her knees. She had a hellish experience - including her sexploitation by some bosses in her old company. It was just out and out sexual extortion when she had to work as a temp just to make ends meet. But she had signed away all such claims when she first left the company - in perpetuity, so they could now make her fuck and suck to their hearts desire, while I waited for her to come home, without even a kiss to keep me company during her absence, month after month, after month. For all her faults, her lush body and playful mind almost made up for her Victorian era sexual appetites - unless it came to extra marital sex with someone else. She consumed that type of fucking with an epic "Big Lots" wholesale store discount kind of volume. I took her back anyway. I love her. But I didn't know what the fuck to do about it. In the meantime, she slept on the couch in the den, crying herself to sleep each night.

Jim, my best friend for many years, takes me out for drinks to help me sort through it. "Rod, do you love her?"

"Of course. That isn't the question. The question is whether her sleeping around means she isn't committed to me, or whether her denial of all the times she gave it away to someone else, until the truth was dragged out of her, means there is no truth left in our relationship." I said carefully.

"Rod, what if she could make it up to you? What if you could not spend a single day thinking about what happened, but instead, what is going to happen?" Jim offers, as he motions to the waitress for another round.

"Jim, I just don't know if I can get past Debra being little Miss Schoolmarm for me and little Miss Gangbang Fuck Slut for everybody else." I argue.

"Rod, you aren't going to believe this, But Mary and I had a similar experience. We had two years of hell, in the period before you and Debra moved back. But this is really the first time I've thought about that since. Mary is the best wife, and the last wife I will ever have, God willing." Jim says with an un-shakeable confidence.

"So what did you two do?" I grasp for the straw, a drowning man going under, desperate for hope.

"We tried a lot of things, counseling, et cetera, but none of it stuck. Then a friend sat me down, just like I'm sitting you down, and told me about Wife School." Jim said softly, so no one else could hear.

"What the hell is Wife School?" I object.

"Wife School takes your wife away to summer camp. They teach them how to value themselves, and how to value their husbands. They come out brand new, and if you look at Mary, you know what I mean." Jim offers.

Mary is a good looking woman, dark hair like Debra's, smaller breasts, tight tennis toned ass, a few inches shorter than Debra. She looks like your average soccer mom who used to be a cheerleader. But I'd known her when they were younger, and she was even better looking than your average coed now. Pictures they say don't lie, but in this case they do. Mary now has a presence, a gravitas, an emanation of raw sexual energy, like any moment she might get the idea to drag you into the bushes and fuck you to death, regardless of who is watching. She is the walking wet dream, the business partner par excellence, the call girl you could never afford. I am glad she is not with us, because it would make me feel even less worth living. Jim has her and I don't.

"How much is this school? Room and board all summer? Must be three or four thousand dollars!" I object.

"Try ten times that much." Jim says softly.

"My credit is crap, thanks to Debra and her imploding business while moving to another city trick. I couldn't get the three, much less the thirty or forty. Thanks for smashing all my hopes." I down my drink and make to leave.

"I'll co-sign. Besides, Mary would love to have Debra join her in the sorority of graduates, she'd co-sign too in a heartbeat. Don't go, Rod! You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you do!" Jim begs me.

"Then we better do this right the fuck now, because I'm at my wits end." I tell Jim sternly, as he whips out his cellphone.

"Caramel Chameleon. [...] I need you to come to the school, and help us sign up Debra and Rod. [...] Yes, I'm happy too. See you there. [...] Love you too, for always and forever. Bye." Jim says as he practically frog marches me out of the bar, into his car, a new BMW. I try to get an answer about the "Caramel Chameleon" thing, but he just says its a pet name she has for him, and they use it to cover for each other in emergencies.

When we reach the school, it looks like a big stone exterior house, at least two stories, and bigger than any house I've been in. As we drive around the oval driveway, I get to see the side and realize it is three or four times larger, in wings, than I thought it could be. Serious money made this place.

Mary's black Mercedes has a huge contrast between driver and passenger. Mary is dressed in a black cocktail dress, beautiful dark heels and hose, her small breasts drilling invisible holes in the gauzy bra barely detectable under the chiffon dress, pearls on her neck and ears, a diamond ring on her wedding finger worth more than I made last year. Her face is perfect enough to be on the cover of Vogue, the makeup just so, the eyes bright like searchlights.

Debra is sobbing in her pink bunny suit with footsies, hair a mess, mascara running, trying to cover up her weight gain and bloopy titties. Her face is red, first from the crying, but second from the embarrassment of being this way in front of Jim and Mary. I go to her, and she holds me, unable to even stand, sobbing in the car.

"I think it's better if we get her checked in." Jim suggests.

We say good bye quickly, as Jim and I go to the office entrance, and Debra is supported by Mary as she walks her to the clinic entrance. Jim quickly dispatches the financial paperwork, and I sign without even trying to read the thing or look at the final number. I know I can't afford it, whatever it is. We then go through the non-disclosure agreement, the waiver of sexual harassment claims, the consent for medical treatment, and the consent for mental health treatment. I think there was also a consent to be bull whipped form too, but I signed them all. I was given a username and password for the website, but was warned not to print anything from the website as it is all confidential.

"There is an introductory lecture Friday night, three days from now. If you do not attend, you and your wife will be expelled and can re-apply next term, but the tuition you have paid for this term will be forfeit. Dress is business casual with suitcoat. Come freshly showered and please go lightly with the cologne or aftershave. You may acquaint yourself with the rules on the website. The rules are not optional and are strictly enforced. Many of the people here have a great deal to lose from loose lips, so re-read the confidentiality agreement you signed, and be on your best behavior Friday night and thereafter. Dismissed." the matron in the white hospital uniform sternly instructed me.

As we drove back home, I asked Jim "What the hell did you get us into?"

"You remember that old movie, 'The Stepford Wives'? Well imagine you could have all the benefits of that programmed robot, but with your own loving wife. Imagine she could become the person she always wanted to be, free to succeed, free to achieve, free to love. They should charge three hundred thousand for what they do here, and maybe next year they will." Jim tries to explain to me.

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Debra does her paperwork, and Mary gives her a hug goodbye as they take her into the treatment portion of the clinic.

"I'm going to give you a mild sedative. It will remove your stress, but won't knock you out. We are going to check out your vitals and get some baseline status for you." the handsome doctor says as two nurses hover around Debra.

It becomes a whirl of activity around her, as the shot takes effect. One of the nurses tells her to raise her right arm, and leaves it there, as they do other things. Debra doesn't get tired, and she doesn't feel the arm get heavy at all, as the hypnotic takes effect. Soon she is naked, and her registration pictures are taken. The before/after with her graduation pictures will be striking.

Debra is led down the hall to her room, a simple dorm room like you might see at a college, but with thick bars built into the windows. Debra is laid on her bed, and the headphones placed on her head. A full night of entrance programming is pumped into her brain. She is told she is beautiful, sexy, desirable. She is told she is powerful, successful, magnetic. She is told she is erotic, playful, and talented. She is encouraged to always seek to improve her appearance. She is encouraged to always be the best person to other people that she can be. She is told the most important person to share all of these developing characteristics with is her husband. She is told she needs him, loves him, craves him, and will do anything she has ever done for anyone else for him. She must strive to do it better for him. His life is to become her trophy, she is to become his trophy wife, beyond just looks, but in word and deed. She will see other men erotically. She will see other women erotically. That erotic power can be unleashed with just a word from her husband, but it is always there, his to control and direct. Whatever and however he asks her to express her sexual power, she will crave to do it and take intense pleasure from it. He has asked her to take this school by the balls and suck it dry, to get everything she can possibly get out of it.

Her weight will be subject to the guidelines of Weight Watchers and she will be unable to vary from them without her husbands express direction. She will exercise to keep herself healthy and toned, at least 30 minutes and 10,000+ steps per day. She will become proud of how she looks, and seek to make her appearance as attractive as possible.

She will carefully and thoroughly assess the attractiveness of each man or woman she encounters, imagining their embrace, their caress, how she will make love with them, how they will make love with her. All that is necessary is for her husband to give his permission, she is to be like a loaded sex bullet in a sex gun to erotically explode into action when he pulls the trigger, anticipating where he might aim.

She will regain her playfulness, able to act out roles at will. She is to become the most ardent supplier of her husband's desires, stretching her own limits and erasing them if he so desires. Her thoughts are to be focused on what will make him happy, but when given the chance, she will be quite certain her own needs are met. Her release, her climax, will be just as powerful as that loaded sex bullet, and she will be able to explode as often as her husband pulls the trigger. She will be at his mercy, her pleasure at his command, her rapture filling her being with love for him, no matter who is providing the caresses to her body.

She will spend at least thirty minutes each day studying sexual techniques to please her husband. Whatever shame she once had will vanish when her husband asks her to do something, as a shadow before the sunlight, replaced by the heat and urgency of his request.

Her husband will give her shorthand phrases, which will trigger her memory of specific things he wants her to do, specific ways he wants her to act, and she will receive joy for fulfilling them. In every case, it is not her feelings, but the feelings he wishes her to have, that will guide her. She is his and she knows that by pleasing him, doing as he wishes, she is rewarded right then, and also in their future together. Her life is filled with happiness, joy, and love.

Wednesday morning, Debra awakes refreshed, jumps in the shower, pops out, doing a simple makeup with the kit provided, using the special creams for her puffy eyes and the band to put her hair in a ponytail. There is only one style of bra, sheer underwire, only one style of panty, bikini cut also sheer, both in beige. The cream colored scrubs provided and tan tennis shoes are more drab than what she would choose. Rod likes to see her in bright clothes, although she blushes when she realizes he'd probably approve of the underwear choice because they show so much. She has lace sets she'd once been forced to wear that he would probably like too. She's determined to find out his true opinion on all of that. She wants to please him from the core of her being.

In the hall, the students are all jogging to the mess hall, so Debra joins their pace. Some have more weight than her, did that make them softer to the touch? Some of them looked tighter, tougher, harder - did any of their softness remain? In their kisses? Between their legs? She starts sorting out her ranking of which ones she'd like to kiss first, then falling into the rabbit hole of kissing Rod - if he ever would kiss her again. This starts a whole new ranking of which of her fellow students she could offer to Rod as a bribe to let her back into his bed. She nearly climaxes from that thought alone before they arrive at the mess hall.

The schedule is tougher than any school she's ever been to, maybe tougher than a military academy. The dining halls are open 24/7, but un-staffed from 11pm to 6am. The 6am to 8am period is reserved for breakfast and exercise. 8am to 10am is reserved for business and social skills. 10am to 12 noon is health class. Then lunch and more exercise, meditation and coffee klatsch until 2pm. From 2pm to 4pm dress/undress for success. From 4pm to 6pm, more business and social skills, then dinner and social media, record her experiences to help improve the experience for the next class. After 8pm is meditation and free time until 10pm. 10pm to 6am is lights out.

Posters on the wall provide the Weight Watcher guidelines, and a line at the bottom reminds them it is available on the laptop in their rooms. The bowls are sized for the correct serving size, as are the glasses, just to make everything easy. As she eats, Debra is scanning her fellow students, trying to figure out who she wants to kiss, who she wants to offer to Rod, and who looks like they want to kiss her, and who wants to offer her to their own husband.

She still has time, so she goes down the hall to see where it goes, ending up in the gym. She decides to do laps around the gym and then discovers she has a following. She is checking out the other girls asses as they wiggle in front of her as she passes them, then catches a few in the turns blushing as their eyes have locked on her well padded ass and they get caught.

Business and social skills starts with sexual harassment - how to do it and how to avoid it. Her expertise in the subject is obvious, to the approval of the instructors - all women. In social skills, they have to try hitting on each other, learning how to be the aggressor, how to be the defender, how to ask for the yes, how to give the yes, and how to give the no. Future lessons will cover how to ask without asking and both how to say yes without saying yes, and how to say no without saying no. The very attractive men who are the instructors give her shivers every time they touch her and she feels like she needs a very cold shower.

Health class is the all out porn class your mother thought they were giving you in school. One porn film is running on a display, different on each wall, as foam penises and vaginas are at every seat. Various levels of skill are displayed in oral sex capability with every student adjusting their own rankings with each display. The male and female instructors look at each other like a live action display is going to happen every moment during the class, but it never does, at least not on that day.