Executives Slut Ch 05

CHAPTER 5: THE PROPOSITION

Gerald came back for the meeting about the divorce. As we sat opposite each other in the conference room of Ms. Warner's offices, he couldn't even look me in the eyes. He explained that he met someone who made him happy. I didn't know I hadn't made him happy. He said he liked the country and the culture. He wanted to live there. He confided he was anxious to get this over with. I thought he was feeling very guilty but not guilty enough to recant. Of course, I was instructed to say next to nothing, just sit at the table looking hurt. I didn't know if I was looking hurt, but I was pretty sure I looked angry. I reminded myself that I couldn't wear the clothes I now liked: the revealing, the explicit, the provocative skirts and tops. I couldn't run around the house naked. I couldn't see Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin. The only relief I had was using toys in the darkness of my bedroom. Yes, I was angry. It also almost made me laugh.

It took slightly less than 6 weeks from the time I got the summons. Ms. Warner really could be a bitch, too. She found a sympathetic judge to sign off on everything she hammered out of Gerald's attorneys and to expedite the formal signing of the order. When it was all said and done, I got as much as she felt was possible given the desire to finish it quickly, which left some things to compromise. Since I was a supported spouse and not working, I got alimony, two-thirds of the house, the car, and half the savings. The savings and other assets weren't enough for me to buy out his share of the house. I needed to find a job to supplement the alimony to live on. I wasn't sure what the next steps would be or what would happen. What I quickly realized was that I didn't want the house and getting an apartment closer to the downtown area for a job might be the direction to focus on.

Of course, my limited confidence and self-determination were severely shaken by the experience. I nervously called Mr. Baldwin at his office. I was hoping he would be available. He was as patient, caring, and supportive as always but my voice broke several times as the emotion of it all overwhelmed me. He was wonderful. He gave me so much time and I know how busy he always is. His strong, decisive, controlled manner made me feel so good. He was excellent in probing my thoughts about the future: what I wanted now that it was just me; what I longed for; what I would do if I could do anything; what was my greatest desire if I had the courage in this new opportunity. It wasn't so much that he even gave me the time to answer it all. It was more that he presented the questions to consider, to ponder, to explore. He closed our talk with a challenge.

"This is an important time for you, Karen. Most people look at something like this with doubts, self-judgment, recrimination. This is an opportunity, though, if you want to use it as such. This can be a moment when you have a blank canvass before you. A blank, empty, clean canvass upon which you can create whatever life you truly want or, at least, seriously consider the possibilities of pursuing your heart's desire."

I sighed, feeling weight slipping from my shoulders. There was no clear thought in my mind, but his words made sense and opened up something new. I didn't know what I wanted from him when I called, but I understood at that moment why I did call. I could count on him. He was there for me. He, and Mrs. Baldwin, supported me, cared for me, could guide me. "Thank you, sir. I knew you could help me. But how do I do that?"

"Do you trust me, Karen?"

"Of course, sir! It's been difficult for me without you and Mrs. Baldwin. I wanted to seek your guidance so many times. But you said I should do whatever Ms. Warner told me, so that's what I did."

"You did well, Karen. It was hard for us to be away from you, too. Abby and I are proud of you. We stayed in contact with Ms. Warner. We always knew what was planned and what was happening. We were in the background guiding and supporting. We want to help you now, too. The decisions need to be yours, though. We can help, if you like."

I flushed. That warm flood of feelings. They were there! I felt so alone, but they were there. I should have known. And they are here, again. I feared I had lost them, but I haven't. "What should I do, sir?"

"That's my girl. Over the next few days, find some way to find peace and relax so you can open your mind to options going forward. Seek the vision of that blank canvass in your mind in a relaxed mental state. Then, what would you put on that canvass? How would you depict your life? It is up to you, now. Nobody else. What would please you the most, if you could devote yourself to it? Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, sir." This feels so good. I feel like I have a path to follow, again. I might not know where it is leading me but the path is guided and safe with Mr. Baldwin alongside me.

"Do you think you can have some thoughts prepared by Friday night?" Yes, sir, I said with new excitement. "Good. I will send a car to pick you up. I will arrange a nice dinner for the three of us. We'll celebrate the end of your ordeal, your freedom, and the new opportunities in front of you. Remember how proud we are of you, Karen. Find that peaceful place and imagine your desires. At dinner, we can explore what you imagine."

"Thank you, sir! I hope I'm not too much of a bother."

"Nonsense! You've always pleased us, dear."

I ended the call with a spirit that seemed to be floating, flooded with warmth. It was a feeling I had missed but not forgotten. I went straight into the bedroom, stripped out of the conservative clothes I was still wearing. I stood naked before the mirror and smiled. The first step was to rearrange my closet and dresser. As I worked, I considered the steps to following Mr. Baldwin's direction. Wine. Yes, a couple glasses of wine. Peace and relaxation. The headphones, of course. Yes, this is a good start. I felt my heart pumping with renewed energy and excitement. This will work. Of course, it will. I can rely on Mr. Baldwin. He was proud of me... she was proud of me... Desire. What do I desire? Where are those headphones? I can multitask as I rearrange the closet. What is that feeling? Oh, God... I have missed that.

Headphones in place on my ears I hum to the sounds with my spirit lifted by the minute. I pull all the clothes out I haven't touched in six weeks and pile them on the bed. I push all the rest to the back of the closet. I now have more room in the closet. I smile. Options. Clean canvass. I hold up each dress, blouse, skirt, bra, pantie, stockings, and shoes. In between placing each item where I now wanted them in the closet or dresser, I touch my breast and nipple or my pussy. My nipples are erect. My pussy is seeping. God, I have missed this feeling. What are my desires for my life? They are proud of me...

* * * *

Friday night. I am dressed and anxious. I am wearing one of Mr. Baldwin's favorite dresses, a black, form-fitting dress that hugs all my mature curves. The tight skirt ends way above mid-thigh. The bodice has a large oval cut into it above my breasts to show plenty of cleavage but allows me to wear a bra for support. I am nervous. He said nothing about how I should dress for the evening, which is out of character for him... but it has been a while for us.

Right on time, I see headlights flash across the living room sheers. A moment later I hear a car door close and another moment before the doorbell rings. I grab a little purse I left on the entry table and open the door. A large black man in a black suit announces he has been hired to take me to the restaurant. He stands in the doorway a moment too long looking at me. Then he's embarrassed.

"Sorry, ma'am. It's just... you're going to make someone's night very special."

I blush profusely but thank him. I feel that warm feeling wash over me and I smile. It is nice to get that kind of attention, again. I can't remember where the thought originated from but it feels good and right to dress to please men that way.

In the restaurant, I get more looks. I ask for Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin's table and am led to a small alcove open to the main room but providing a bit of privacy. Both of them stand as I approach, each giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Baldwin whispers in my ear, "I've missed you, dear. Seeing you like this reminds me how much I've missed you."

Most of the meal is relaxed and light. All the talk is about mundane things, catching up on things that have happened in their lives, and pulling feelings about how I am feeling with the resolution of the divorce. Mr. Baldwin waits until we order light desserts before bringing up the big questions. He reiterates many of the same questions he threw out to me a few days ago. I stumble around with my attempts at answering and he can sense I am having some difficulty. Mrs. Baldwin is watching the interaction intently between her husband and me, allowing him to direct and guide it all. Finally, he drives it home.

"Karen, we understand there is a lot to consider and there are a lot of uncertainties. Where a job might come from. What kind of job might be appropriate for your skills and experience? Where to live. There is a lot that can't be defined, yet. But... what your deepest desire is... what you ultimately desire for yourself to feel fulfilled and true at some level going forward... what is that deepest desire inside you?"

I look into Mr. Baldwin's face and find the man who I came to know as stable, strong, controlled while being supporting and caring. I look into Mrs. Baldwin's face and find the woman I came to care so much for and see a look of anticipation and expectancy.

I take a deep breath. Tell them. Just tell them. You've done it before. Why would anything be different now? They are both here for you. Tell them.

"Sir, ma'am... nothing has changed... no, of course, things have changed but not what I truly desire." I search each of their faces. Slight smiles have formed on them and I catch Mrs. Baldwin flick her eyes to her husband and quickly back to me. Mr. Baldwin is fully concentrated on me. I hadn't yet said what needed to be said. "Sir, ma'am, yes, things have changed in my life. Things that will need to be addressed and resolved... and soon. But there is a big part of me, what is inside me, the most powerful desire and need within me that directly affects my feeling of fulfillment that has not changed. You have shown me that I am submissive and I have accepted that. More, I have embraced it, I think." I look him in the eyes. "Sir, I still want to be your submissive." I turn my focus to her. "Ma'am, I still want to be your submissive." My eyes flick back and forth between them as I continue. "I can't stop thinking about what was before this happened. I still very much desire to serve and please both of you. The idea in my head of being in service to you makes me horny, fully aroused. It consumes me."

They are both watching me. Both watch my breasts rise and fall with my huge breaths. Now that I let it out, spoke my desires, told them what I really wanted on a larger need than what job or apartment, my body feels ready to explode in anticipation... hope. Nothing about my confession resolves anything without their acceptance. The first time I was privately in his office was when I committed myself. Now, we are in a public restaurant and it is both of them.

Mrs. Baldwin breaks the silence that fell on the table. "You're sure, Karen?" I nod enthusiastically. "You speak of serving and pleasing... what would you do?"

I gush the response, "Anything, ma'am. Just tell me what you want and I'll do it. I'll eat your beautiful pussy until you tell me to stop and my face is smeared with your juices."

Mr. Baldwin interjects, "And me, Karen?"

"Sir, anything, of course. Both of you." My voice drops, again. "I'll suck our cock... I'll fuck your cock... I'll be what you desire me to be."

"Tell us what you will be for us."

I look at them both, my back becomes straighter, my shoulders pull back, my chin up. Yes, this is exactly what I want and I am proud of it. They showed that was in me before. "I will be... I am your submissive slut." I look back and forth between them. There is only one more statement. "If you will accept me as yours... your submissive... your slut... yours to do with as you wish." They are quiet. A moment of panic begins to form. Could it be they don't want me, anymore? "You asked me, sir, to consider what it was I truly, most deeply, desired. You suggested I consider what lay ahead as a blank canvass and what I wanted could be painted on that canvass. This is what appeared, sir. This is it. There is more I need to resolve to live but I need this to somehow still be a part of that new living."

Mrs. Baldwin smiled as she glanced at her husband. The smile made me nervous. "What are you wearing under that dress?"

"Stockings... not pantyhose... thong and bra."

"Prove what you just committed to us." My eyebrows showed my question. "Remove the thong and place it on the table."

I was sitting with my back to the rest of the restaurant. My tight dress made it impossible to easily do that. I glanced to the sides but had no way of knowing what was happening behind me. The chairs were solid backs and that would provide some cover. I raised my butt and pulled my skirt to my hips. I raised myself a second time to tug the delicate garment over my hips. With one hand on the edge of the table and the other pulling the thong, I moved it down my legs and off one foot and the other. I looked into her eyes. She was waiting. How obedient was I going to be? We had never done anything this publicly humiliating before. I breathed and spread the fabric in front of me.

"Take a breath, dear. The waitress is coming. Let's order dessert."

Oh my God! In the next instant, the waitress was there, standing between Mrs. Baldwin and me. She started her spiel about the dessert option when she saw the thong. She leaned closer and softly commented, "Show and tell? They are pretty." She gave me a wink and took our orders. I knew I was bright red. I was also amazed at her composure.

The thong remained in front of me as we waited. The talk changed from me to banal banter. I didn't know what that meant if it meant anything. When the waitress returned, she had another waitress assisting her with the desserts and coffee. I didn't think she needed to. She was showing the other woman. My dessert was placed on top of the thong. My blush rose, again.

Then, when I had finished the light dessert, Mrs. Baldwin commanded, "Take off your bra." My eyes bugged out. I glanced around. I couldn't... could I? With this dress, I would need to unzip it in the back and lower the whole top to do that. She raised her hand and the waitress was next to us, again. "Our friend needs your assistance with something in the restroom." Oh my God.

She led me through the tables to the restroom door. She pushed it open and checked inside. It was empty and I entered. She looked at me questioningly. She didn't know what to expect but she expected something interesting, I could read it on her face.

I leaned my head forward and pulled my long hair to the front to expose the back. She didn't seem to need more than that after the thong on the table. I felt her fingers at the clasp of the zipper and she moved the zipper down my back. I remained where I was. She gasped, "Seriously? Oh, you guys are so bad." But, she did it. She released the clasps of my bra. I stood before the mirror and looked at her reflection behind me as I pulled the dress and bra straps until the bodice fell in front of me and I could remove the bra. I dropped the bra on the counter and put my arms back through the dress. She giggled as she re-zipped the dress. I turned around and hugged her. I didn't know what else to do. I wanted to kiss her at the moment but didn't want to chance taking it too far. The way she looked at me, though, maybe I should have.

She returned to the table with me. I held the bra in my right hand all bunched together. It wasn't a dainty little thing... not with my breasts. Anyone looking closely would see it, though most would have been distracted by the jiggling of my unconfined breasts in the tight dress. At the table, she leaned forward, "I have loved you guys! If you come back, please ask for Sally." Mr. Baldwin promised to do that.

Mr. Baldwin made a quick call. When we exited the restaurant, the same driver and car were waiting. He held the back door open. Mrs. Baldwin entered first, then me, and finally Mr. Baldwin. I was sitting in the middle. The short, tight dress was forced up to my hips by getting in and they stopped me from pulling the skirt down. Both caressed over my stocking-encased thighs. We had only gone a few blocks before Mr. Baldwin asked the driver, "Please find a spot to pull over for a moment."

As the car stopped at the curb in front of a block of dark storefronts, Mr. Baldwin opened his door and extended his hand for me to follow him. Outside the car, he turned me around, reached under my hair, and lowered the zipper. He's undressing me? Outside? In front of a strange driver? In fact, yes. He pushed the dress over my shoulders and down my body. I held onto the top of the car as I carefully stepped out of the dress, taking care to keep it off the sidewalk. He turned me back to him and smiled. I stood naked but for stockings and heels. With a hand on my breast, he pulled me in for a very deep kiss.

I gasped as a thrilling shiver rippled through me. I clung to him. "Sir... you never said if you accepted me."

He chuckled. His hand at my breast shifted and his fingers squeezed my nipple. I moaned. Naked outside. Cars passing by on the same street and that was what I was concerned about. Did he accept me as their submissive slut?

"Of course, I accepted you... we accept you. This was our hope, Karen, my slut. We have a proposition for you to take care of the other concerns about your future... job and place to live. First, you needed to be our brazen slut." I smiled and kissed him. The warm feeling washing over me was so familiar, again. My pussy flooded. I was theirs! They wanted me!

I slid back into the car. I saw the driver adjust the rearview mirror, not to see out the back window but to see down at me. I smiled at him and winked. I felt so wicked. Mrs. Baldwin took my left leg and draped it over her leg. Mr. Baldwin did the same to my right leg before he closed the door and the overhead light was extinguished. I was spread open obscenely to the gaze of the driver. It was wicked. It was exciting.

On the way, again, they both began fondling, caressing, and exploring my invitingly naked and exposed body. Hands fondled my breasts, rolled and pulled my nipples, stroked my pussy lips, rubbed and rolled my quickly engorged clit, and thrust into my wet and open pussy with one, two, and three fingers. All the while the driver divided his attention between the road ahead of us and the rearview mirror when we passed under street lights. I orgasmed before we reached their home but they didn't stop their assault on my body. I was theirs to use. I told them I was. I had no doubt in my heart that this was right, this was what I desired most. To be used by them as they wished and to please them in any manner they wished.

When the driver pulled into the circular drive of their huge house, I was quickly rising to another orgasm. The car stopped and the hands and fingers were gone. It happened so quickly it almost ached that they were gone. The driver was holding Mrs. Baldwin's door open. She took his hand to exit. Then, I saw the hand reach into the car to me. I looked up into the eyes of the man. His eyes moved quickly over my body, taking in the vision before him. I knew my pussy and inner thighs glistened with the juices of my orgasm. I blushed as I took his hand. As I slid one foot out of the car, I knew I was again opening myself to his gaze. Mr. Baldwin had exited by the other door and met me as I came out. I turned toward the house but was stopped by the driver's voice.