Neglected Red Headed Trophy Wife

Hey guys, part two. I know this part of the story will seem a little less forceful, but keep in mind Valerie is still being blackmailed, even if she does seem to enjoy it. I mean, technically, that still makes it non-consensual, right? Oh well, fuck it, it's not that forceful at all, but hey, it is rough, so whatever. If you're gonna get pissy and complain that she's not really reluctant at all, just don't bother reading it. Or do and then complain anyways. Whatever, I'm keeping the whole story on noncon/ reluctant so everyone can suck a dick. Enjoy!

**********************

2

After Paul got home, he took a shower then headed over to his friend's place where they played risk, drinking cheap beer and smoking weed and lasting until the wee hours of the morning, before he finally lost, coming in a close second place.

By the time he got home, it was late, and he passed out, forgetting to set his alarm.

The next morning, he woke up slowly, getting dressed and hopping in the shower before he even bothered to check his phone, and by that time it was already 12:30.

"Fuck," he groaned, rushing to put on his pants before heading out the door, looking around to make sure no one was around as he walked over to Valerie's.

He almost knocked, then remembered his orders, opening the door and letting himself in, finding Valerie waiting for him a few feet inside the door, naked, on her knees, her giant, lucious tits bare, an emerald green collar around her neck and a leash in her hand.

"I was starting to worry," she whimpered, looking down at the ground.

"I'm sorry about that, pet," Paul smiled, walking up to her and rubbing her face, and she nuzzled against his hand, closing her eyes.

"Mmm, I missed you," She moaned.

"And what's this?" Paul asked, taking the leash from her and pulling her face up to look at him.

"Oh, well, um," she stammered, her face blushing. "I went out and bought it, because, well, I'm your pet now."

Paul watched her blushing and fumbling over her words, smiling as she did her best to avoid his eye contact.

"I am your pet, right?" She asked, and Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, you're my pet," he told her, and she slowly leaned forward, latching onto his legs, rubbing her face against his thighs. "I own you now, you belong to me."

"Oh!" She gushed, shaking her head. "Oh Paul! sir!"

"Yes, pet?" He asked, and she stared up at him.

"Can I be your kitten? Will you call me kitten?" She begged, looking away, blushing.

"Yes, kitten, of course," he told her, reaching down and petting her.

"Oh! Thank you, sir!" She bounced, rubbing against his touch. "Have you eaten? Are you hungry?"

"Well, no, but I suppose I could use some coffee," he shrugged, and she bounced up.

"Ok!" She smiled. "May I- may I make you some?"

"Yes, kitten," he told her, and she groaned, standing up.

"Wait for me outside?" She asked, unclipping the leash and handing it to him. "I'll only be a few minutes, but it's a beautiful day."

"Sounds good," he smiled as he pocketed the leash, walking outside and sitting down at the patio table, leaning back and checking his phone as he waited.

It took a little longer than he'd expected, but when she came out she was holding a tray with two cups of coffee, black, a small bowl with sugar and tiny spoons, and a little cup with cream in it, as well as a plate of small brown doughy balls that smelled delicious.

"I know you said you weren't hungry," she smiled, setting the tray down before him. "But I made you beignets, I hope you like them."

"Hmm, what are they?" Paul asked, picking one up, but it was still a little too hot and he set it back down.

"They're donuts, basically," Valerie giggled. "How do you like your coffee?"

"Cream, one sugar," he told her, and she began making him a cup.

"May I- may I please sit in your lap?" She asked, and Paul sat up, patting his knee.

"Of course, kitten," he told her, and she gently took her place on him, nuzzling up to him.

Her tits were right there in his face, and he could feel his cock getting harder by the second. He leaned forward, groping and kissing them, biting and sucking on her nipples.

"Oh! Thank you sir!" She groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, her long fingernails digging into his skin as she squirmed and giggled.

"Sir! Sir!" She moaned as he bit her. "Please! Let me feed you!"

"Mmmm, I'm enjoying my breakfast already," he told her, and she laughed, pulling his hair and groaning, before he finally let go.

"Ok, ok, they do smell delicious," he smiled, reaching for one, but she grabbed his hand and wrapped both her hands around it before he could grab one.

"Please, sir, let me feed you!" She begged, smiling as she pushed his hand to her breast.

"Hmm, ok kitten," Paul smiled, pinching her nipple before working his hand down her body. "But you're going to have to spread your legs for me so I can play with your naughty little pussy."

"Yes sir!" She giggled, opening her legs up, shivering a little as Paul groped her legs, reaching over and grabbing a beignet.

"Mmm," she groaned, holding it up to his lips, and he bit into it, savoring its sweetness. It was soft and fluffy, slightly crispy on the outside, covered in cinnamon and sugar.

"Fuck, that's good," he told her, chewing and swallowing, and she smiled, rubbing his back.

"Oh! I'm so glad you like them!" She gushed, holding the rest of the doughnut up to his lips and feeding it to him.

"Oh god, they're delicious," he told her, and she moaned as he forced two fingers in her pussy, burying her face against his neck and kissing him while he played with her.

"Would you like another?" She asked, sitting up and grabbing one.

"Yes, kitten," he whispered, and she fed it to him, smiling and rubbing the crumbs and sugar from his lips before kissing him tenderly.

"Is that enough? Or one more?" She asked sweetly, and Paul pulled his two fingers out, dripping wet with her juices.

"That's enough for now-" he started, but she grabbed his hand, bringing it up to her lips, licking his fingers clean.

"Please, sir, let me lick my filthy whore juices off of you," she moaned, sucking and slurping at his fingers.

"Oh fuck," Paul groaned, smiling as he watched her sucking her juices off of him.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered, grabbing his coffee and handing it to him, then grabbing her own, drinking it black.

Paul relaxed, and she leaned against him, enjoying the morning together, drinking their coffee as they rubbed and kissed each other.

"Mmm, you're the best company, Paul," Valerie whispered, then she spied his mug, almost empty. "Oh! Would you like another cup of coffee?"

"Yes, Kitten, I would," Paul smiled, and she grabbed the tray, standing up, but when she stood up, she accidentally knocked her mug over, coffee spilling all over the table.

"Oh god! Oh sir! I'm so sorry!" She groaned, rushing inside and grabbing a kitchen towel, running back, her tits bouncing, and wiping the table clean.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir!" She cried, dropping to her knees.

"It's ok, it was an accident," he smiled, petting her face, but her eyes dropped and she stared at the ground.

"No, it doesn't matter, I was bad," she whimpered, looking up at him. "You need to punish me."

Paul shook his head, having trouble believing what he was hearing.

"It's ok, kitten," he assured her, rubbing her face, "It was an accident, you don't need to be punished for that."

But her eyes were welling with tears and she shook her head from side to side.

"Sir! Please!" She begged, grabbing his hand and rubbing her face against it. "I need you to punish me when I'm bad! For every mistake! I want to be a good little pet for you!"

Paul sat back, taking a deep breath, and she stared at the ground. Then she looked up at him, closing her eyes, and held her face up for him.

"Please, sir," she whimpered, quivering as she waited for her punishment.

Paul shrugged, staring down at her as she waited patiently, then he leaned over, and she winced a little at the sound of his movement.

He slapped her, and her jaw dropped, gasping and panting.

"Thank you sir-" she started, but was interrupted by another slap.

"Oh! Thank you sir!" She groaned, and he slapped her again.

"Thank you! Please sir! Harder! I've been bad!"

He slapped her again and again, her cheek turning bright red as she whimpered, tears streaming down her face, until finally, Paul stopped, staring down at her as she took quick, short breaths, then he rubbed her face and she opened her eyes.

"Oh, thank you!" She gushed, lunging forward and rubbing her tears in his lap. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, kitten," Paul smiled, rubbing her skin, and she looked up at him.

"Have I been good for you, sir?" She whimpered, and Paul nodded.

"Yes, kitten, you've been so good." Paul told her, petting her.

"May I? May I have my breakfast now?" She asked, rubbing his hard cock through his pants.

"Yes, of course, kitten. Would you like me to feed you?" He asked, leaning forward and grabbing a beignet, but she shook her head.

"Oh no! Not that, sir!" She giggled, pulling his belt open and unbuttoning his pants, pulling the zipper down and reaching inside, tugging out his hard cock. "I'm hungry for your cum!"

Paul groaned, leaning back as she started licking and sucking on his cock, eagerly jerking him off while she bounced her head up and down on his dick.

"Please sir! I'm such a hungry little kitten!" She groaned, shoving his dick back down her throat, drooling all over herself, giant globs of spit dribbling down and onto his pants.

Paul couldn't take much more of it, watching her submit to him like that, pinching her nipples and groping her tits with one hand, the other gently, yet deftly stroking him off.

"Fuck!" he grunted, and she pulled her head back, opening her mouth wide and gripping his dick as he shot load after load into her mouth.

She swallowed, cum dribbling down her chin, then opened up for more, letting him fill her mouth again before he finally stopped cumming, grunting as he leaned back in his chair.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, and she looked up at him, wiping the cum up with her fingers, then licking it all off, relishing every last drop.

"You taste so good!" She giggled.

"You're amazing," Paul groaned, rubbing her face.

"I'm a good little cock sucker for you?" She squealed, leaning forward and resting her face in his lap, and Paul pet her.

"Yes, kitten, the best."

**************************

After finishing another cup of coffee, Paul stripped naked and they both took a swim in the pool, relaxing and swimming together, kissing and holding each other in the cool water, then Paul got out and drip dried in the sun while he watched Valerie swim laps. She was incredible, her bare body showing off every contour as she swam lap after lap, wearing herself out before climbing out, curling up next to him.

"Would you like to come inside?" She finally asked, sitting up. "I don't like to be out in the sun for too long."

"Yes, kitten, that sounds nice," Paul said, reaching over for his pants and pulling out the leash, clipping it onto her collar.

"Get on the ground, now," he demanded, and she got on her hands and knees, smiling and following obediently as he walked her inside.

"Do you like classical music?" She asked as he walked her to the living room, and Paul laughed a little.

"Yes, I mean, what? Like Beethoven?" Paul asked as he sat down on the couch, his naked body bare before her and Valerie laughed, shaking her head.

"Oh, you're such a novice!" She giggled, lunging at him and wrapping her arms around him, sitting in his lap and rubbing her face against his neck as he held her. "Please, can I play for you?"

Paul looked over at the grand piano in the foyer.

"Yes, I'd like that," he told her, and she jumped up, bouncing off into another room and

coming back with a violin case.

"You can play the violin?" He asked her, a little surprise, and she giggled.

"Oh, you thought I meant the piano?" She laughed, shaking her head. "Well, yes, I mean, I can play that too."

Paul sighed, shaking his head.

"I didn't know you were so talented," he laughed, and she blushed, pulling out her violin.

"Hmm, there's a lot you don't know about me," she told him, giving him a wry smile, then she positioned the violin at her shoulder and picked up the bow.

"I'm a little rusty," she warned him, then began.

It started off slow and somber, a sad tune that waxed and waned with grief and sorrow, and Paul's heart broke listening to her play, then it built and grew, peaking violently and returning to grief, again and again, until the melody changed, almost bright and sprightly, cheerful, before ending on a sweet note.

"Wow," Paul told her, eying her beautiful, naked body playing for him.

"Did you like it?" She asked, hopeful.

"Yes, I loved it," Paul smiled, and she blushed.

"Do you want me to stop? Or should I-"

"Keep playing," Paul told her, leaning back and relaxing as she grinned, picking up the bow again.

"Yes sir," she whispered.

Paul closed his eyes, letting her music fill his head and take him away from his body, feeling her pain and struggles through the notes she played, her sorrow in the stirring of the strings, hearing her story.

It went on for almost an hour before she stopped, setting it down and he opened his eyes, staring at her.

"May I come lie next to you?" She asked, and Paul nodded. She slowly walked over to him, smiling as he made room for her, and she cuddled up next to him on the couch.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered.

"No, thank you," he replied, petting her back, but she shook her head, burying her face in his chest.

"No, I mean it, thank you, nobody ever, nobody ever wants to hear me, nobody ever wants to listen."

"I'll always listen," Paul smiled, and she lied there silently, and when he looked down at her, he saw tears flowing down her cheeks.

"What's wrong, kitten?" Paul asked, and she hid her face.

"Paul! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She cried, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Paul asked, sitting up, and she hid her face from him.

"No, this isn't what you want, this isn't what you're here for," she sniffled, hiding, but Paul grabbed her hair, lifting her face so he could kiss her, her tears smearing against his skin.

"I'm here for you," he told her, inwardly feeling a little guilty for using her when he could see she was so vulnerable and lonely.

"No, you wouldn't-" she started, but he cut her off.

"I own you, understand?" He told her, raising his voice sternly, then grabbing and slapping her ass. "All of you, even the bad parts, now out with it!"

Valerie whimpered at his touch, burying her face in his chest, clinging to him tightly.

"Nobody likes me, nobody's ever liked me!" She sobbed, quivering. "I know I'm a bitch, I'm mean and I have a temper problem, but nobody's, I mean, I've never really had any friends. And now that I'm just some stupid trophy wife, I'm even more lonely."

Paul held her, the pangs of guilt unnerving him, and he couldn't believe she was confiding all this in him.

"Well I mean maybe if you were a little nicer to people-"

"Don't you think that I've tried that?" She snapped, then realized her anger and buried her face in his chest. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry sir!"

"It's ok, I'll punish you for it later," he assured her, and she smiled.

"It's just, I try to be nice, I do, but everybody always has this idea about me, everyone always sticks their noses up at me and thinks I'm this overconfident bitch, guys only see me as some conquest, just a big ass and a nice rack, and now that I'm married they only want an affair, sex, but they don't care, and Roger just wants me to stay at home, it doesn't matter to him if I'm lonely, he wants his little trophy wife to bring out when it suits him and to stay home and cook and clean."

She was shivering, her naked body covered in goosebumps, tears soaking into Paul's chest. He picked her up, curling her up into the fetal position and holding her in his chest as she latched onto him.

"It's always been like this," she whispered, and then it all started gushing out of her, her terrible childhood, her abusive mother, her negligent father, her constant search for friendship, her struggles with her temper, things Paul already knew from the emails, but he didn't bother cutting her off, telling her he knew, he just sat there and rubbed her skin, listening, and his heart almost broke.

"And so here I am, married to a guy that treats me like his old favorite toy, in this big fucking house with nobody, all the money I could want but nothing to spend it on, all the time in the world but nobody to spend it with, I don't have anyone, I don't even have friends." she sniffled, slowly regaining composure.

"That's not true," Paul told her, rubbing her back. "I'm your friend."

"What?" She asked, sitting up and staring at him like he'd said something insane.

"I'm your friend, I like spending time with you," he told her, shrugging, and she shook her head.

"No, you're not my friend, you just want my body," she groaned a little, but Paul shook his head.

"No, kitten, if I just wanted your body, I wouldn't be here listening to you, I could easily have just fucked you and went on my way."

She sniffled, staring up at him, her eyes full of hope.

"Nobody's ever listened," she whispered.

"I'll listen, to everything. I own you now, and I want all of you, every last inch, your stories, your troubles, your mind and heart, all of it, I want it all."

Paul was only doing his best to comfort her, ready for her to combat his words with more argument, more tales of troubles, more crying, but instead she lunged at him, grabbing his face and kissing him feverishly, straddling him, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she grinded her body against him.

"Paul!" She whimpered, shaking her head, then kissing him again and again, kissing his cheeks and neck, running her fingers through his hair and nuzzling her face against his. "Oh Paul!"

Paul kissed her back, groping her, pulling her hair and biting her, and she gasped, panting and quivering.

"Wait-" she said, sitting up, "wait here."

She ran off and Paul sat back, waiting for her until she returned, holding something in her hand.

"I got this for Roger for our first anniversary, when I still had hope for our marriage," she said, looking away. "I want you to have it. He never wears it, he'll never notice it."

It was a watch, antique looking, silver with a white face, so many dials and hands, so many functions, with a dark brown leather strap. It looked like something a captain would wear, expensive and ornate, yet simple and utilitarian.

"Wow," Paul smiled, looking it over, and on the back was an engraving. "My heart belongs to you" and her initials.

"Do you like it? Will you wear it?" She asked, kneeling before him, taking his hand and putting it on him, smiling as he looked at it in awe.

"Yes, of course I will, every day," he smiled, and she purred, resting her head in his lap, grabbing his cock and gently stroking him.

"Good, it looks so good on you," she gushed. "You're such a handsome man."

Paul didn't know what to say, he just kept staring at the watch, then looking down at her as she smiled up at him, her big doe eyes fluttering.

"I'm a mess," she sniffled, wiping her face, her tears finally beginning to dry. "I'm going to go clean up for you, sir, here, watch some TV while you wait."

She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, picking up his legs and placing them on the couch, grabbing a pillow and forcing it behind his back, her hand gently caressing his face.

"Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Would you like some fruit? Some cheese and crackers? Wine?"