The Cuckqueans Contract Ch 07

It's now early January, and my back and legs are aching as I traverse the fairly short distance from my parked car to the Walgrens' mansion. I've been told I'll be spending another week at their home, and therefore in their marital bed, so I've got my backpack and roller bag, each of which are heavy enough without the added strain on my feet.

Gina texted me a few days earlier with instructions on what to wear when I arrive: a party dress and high heels. To my surprise, I was given the freedom to choose the dress myself as long as it met certain requirements. It had to be 'revealing', which Gina left open to interpretation; the hem had to stop halfway down my thighs; and the panties had to be sexy.

I've picked a sleeveless white bodycon dress with a bandeau-style covering for my breasts and a cutout around my midsection. It leaves my arms, shoulders, and upper chest bare, showing off some cleavage while stopping halfway down my thighs. Open-toed strappy stiletto heels complete the look and add another four inches to my height.

I finally complete my exhausting trek to the Walgrens' front door and ring the doorbell. I really don't want to be here, even more so than usual given how tired I've been recently. For some reason, my breasts also feel sore, and I since my period is due any day now, I hope the Walgrens send me home early as soon as it starts.

The massive door unlocks and swings open, and there's Steven Walgren wearing a polo shirt that barely contains his impressively muscular body, and a pair of cargo shorts.

"Welcome back, Grace." That wolf-like grin he makes whenever he greets me never ceases to disturb me. "Come on in. Gina's working out at the moment, but she'll be done soon."

I nod and step over the threshold, pulling my roller bag behind me which Steven immediately takes and places in the corner. I take my backpack off and place it on the floor before stretching my sore limbs while Steven shuts the front door.

"Time for a spot inspection," he says, turning around and walking straight up to me.

I don't resist as Steven pins me to the wall with one hand and aggressively shoves the other up my dress. I try not to squirm as he gropes my crotch, gripping my underwear and pulling them down. My panties are black and elastic enough not to break as my thighs stretch the material. I've dressed myself according to the instructions, and Steven smirks with satisfaction.

"Good girl," he says as his smirk widens into a grin, "now take them off and give them to me."

I obediently slide my underwear down my bare legs until they reach the floor. Then I step out of them and squat down as low as my high heels will comfortably allow before plucking them off the floor and standing up again. I give Steven a hard and hostile stare as I proffer my freshly worn panties to him, trying not to go weak kneed at the sight of his devilish blue eyes.

Steven takes my underwear and presses them against his face, inhaling the scent of my pussy in a way that I swear is intended to make me feel violated.

"D'you like that?" I ask him, maintaining my hostile glare, "sniffing young girls' panties?"

"You're not a 'girl', Grace," Steven replies while stuffing my underwear into his shirt pocket, "you're 23 and therefore a grown woman." He presses me against the wall again and sticks his hand back up my dress. "And a fuckably beautiful one at that."

He worms his fingers in between my labia and this time, I can't help but squirm. The more he moves his fingers inside my pussy, the wetter it becomes, and I try my best to just let him have his fun until he gets bored. I know that's naïve, but there's nothing else I can do.

After fingering me for a while, Steven withdraws his fingers from my vagina and sticks them in my mouth. I wrinkle my nose at the taste of my own sexual juices, but that just makes him even more excited, and I have no choice but to let him make me suck on his fingers.

"Very good girl."

Steven withdraws his fingers from my mouth and tries to worm his hand up inside the bandeau covering. When his fingers touch my nipples, I shriek in pain and push him away.

"That fucking hurt!" I don't know why, but my nipples are still sensitive and sore.

Steven looks taken aback, not quite sure if I'm defying him or actually in pain. His expression crinkles into menacing anger as he seems to think it's the former. I recoil as he moves in and tries to manhandle my breasts again, but once again I yelp in sincere pain.

"I'm not fucking kidding!" I insist angrily, my emotions boiling over as I force his hands away, "my breasts feel really sore! And I feel really fucking tired! So if you're gonna force yourself on me, at least have the decency to be gentle about it!"

His anger at my perceived defiance shrivels away as he realizes I'm telling the truth. Instead of groping my breasts, his hands move towards my waist, and then he forces my skirt up.

"Alright, Grace," he growls as he unzips his shorts, "I'll be gentle with you."

I see he's already hard and ready when he whips his cock out, and he pulls my skirt up higher so he can lift my leg up by the knee with one hand. He uses his free hand to line his manhood up with my pussy, and I grit my teeth as he enters me again.

I still can't get over how good it feels to have him inside me, even though I hate his guts. Steven thrusts his cock up into me, stretching my pussy walls and making me wetter with each stroke. It's best just to bear it and let my body enjoy how good it feels to be fucked.

Steven has me in a dancer pose hoisting one of my legs up in the air, forcing me to rely on him to keep myself balanced. I have to stand on my free leg while also wrapping my arms around his neck to secure myself, all while he pumps his cock inside me.

He fucks me with determined force, his manhood sliding against the walls of my womanhood with a speed that tells me he's in no mood for a long session. Why is he in such a hurry? Is he afraid Gina will catch him fucking a younger woman in the front hall?

I hear Steven start to grunt louder and deeper. My tight pussy is gripping his thrusting penis in a way that makes it hard not to cum, and after a few more moments, he does exactly that. I feel a burst of warmth deep in my pussy as he pushes his cock deep into me, making sure to get as much of his seed into my body as possible. I hug him submissively, waiting for him to finish.

Finally, Steven groans with satisfaction and withdraws his penis from inside me, letting my leg down at the same time. The click of my high heel touching the marble floor again jolts me back to alertness, and I hastily pull my skirt down and straighten the rest of my outfit.

"Now, I've got a task for you." It takes me a moment to register what Steven just said, and my heart sinks when I do. "You're gonna walk out the front door and back out the security gate. Then you're gonna turn right and walk to the end of the street, then keep walking until you get to a roundabout with a palm tree in the middle."

"Why? Did you stash something there?"

"Shut the fuck up until I'm finished," Steven snaps back at me before continuing. "Once you get there, you're gonna take a selfie with the palm tree in the background so that I know you actually did what I told you. Then, you're gonna pull your skirt up and take a photo of your pussy under the palm tree's canopy. Once I text you back, you can come back here."

Steven leans in close to me until his chest is touching mine, his hand is on my bare thigh, and his mouth is next to my ear. "And if you start to leak between now and the moment you step back through the front door again, don't you

dare

try to wipe it away. Let it ooze and drip."

"You're a fucking monster," I tell him, my voice wavering, "you know that, right?"

"Well, Gina doesn't want me to be too nice to you."

With that revelation echoing in my head, Steven sends me on my way. He opens the front door for me and graciously holds it open as I step over the threshold.

"Oh," I speak up and turn to face him, "can I have my panties back, please?"

"Of course!" Steven says with a beaming smile, "After you get back from your little walk."

And with that, he shuts the heavy door in my face, making me regret for the thousandth time ever having signed that fucking contract.

***

I should be past the point of feeling humiliation after months in the Walgrens' clutches, but I'm not. My cheeks are burning as I go back the way I came and exit the front gate. I dutifully follow Steven's instructions and turn right before heading in the direction of the roundabout.

A cool breeze caresses my bare legs like the clammy hands of countless invisible perverts as I strut along the sidewalk. I move as fast as my high heels and sore limbs will allow, eager to get this humiliating and ridiculous errand over and done with and get back to the warmth -- if not necessarily the safety -- of the Walgrens' mansion.

The click of my heels on the smooth slabs of the sidewalk echoes over the sound of the rustling of leaves and the occasional car driving past. I hope desperately that no one notices or pays any attention to the young Asian woman dressed like she's on her way to a nightclub, and before I know it, I'm halfway to the roundabout with the palm tree.

I don't have a bra on under my bandeau covering, and the fabric is rubbing against my nipples as I strut, making them feel even more sore. The quickie with Mr. Walgren followed by a walk to stretch my limbs has made me feel less tired, but the tenderness in my breasts won't go away.

I've nearly reached the end of the street where I'll have to cross to get to the roundabout when I feel the dreaded trickling sensation leaking out of my pussy. The rocking motion of my hips and the movement of my legs as I strut, not to mention gravity, made it inevitable.

I reach the end of the street and stop to look for cars, all while trying to ignore the distracting trickle of cum touching the uppermost part of my inner thigh. I feel like a prostitute on her way back from a client's home, and maybe that's the point. I don't see any cars, so I cross the street while doing my best to resist the urge to wipe Mr. Walgren's semen away.

With what? My bare hands? My sexy bodycon dress has handy little pockets for me to put my phone and car keys, but I didn't bring any wipes with me. It's almost a relief when I reach the other side of the street, and my high heels touch the soft grass surrounding the palm tree in the middle. It looks totally out of place, and I wonder if it's even real.

Wary of losing my footing on the grass, I stop in front of the palm tree and touch the bark. It's definitely real. Now that I'm here, it's time to get this over with.

I stand with the palm tree behind me, pull out my phone, and open the camera. Then the breeze picks up and blasts my hair with a gust of wind, forcing me to brush my hair out of my face.

I feel another trickle of Steven's cum oozing out of my pussy, and I decide to hold my phone one-handed while using my other hand to give the camera the middle finger. The picture comes out nicely, and I send it to Steven's phone.

Next, I roll up the hem of my bodycon dress and angle my phone so that I can snap another pic, this time of my cum-filled pussy. The upskirt photo has my face visible at the top of the image, and the broad green leaves of the palm tree are in the background behind my head.

Once I send the photo to Steven, I wait. And I wait. And I wait. It's only a few minutes, but the longer I wait, the more uncomfortable I feel, and not just because that trickle of cum is oozing down the inside of my thigh. I bet he's making me wait to punish me for flipping him off.

My phone buzzes, and I check the text.

'

Nice touch with the middle finger, you feisty little bitch.

'

I text back: '

You told me to take a selfie, you didn't say I couldn't give you the finger.

'

A moment later, I get a reply: '

I think you need two or three fingers in you, now get back here.

'

'

On my way,

' I text back.

Half relieved that he didn't make me wait longer, I put my phone back in my skirt pocket, and strut carefully across the grass back to the sidewalk. When I reach the sidewalk and watch for cars, I see a police car driving fast down the road.

I realize I haven't straightened my skirt, and I hastily do so for fear they'll arrest me for public indecency. Then again, if they do take me into custody, boy would I have a story to tell them: a psycho couple who forced me to sign a contract to be the husband's concubine in exchange for debt relief from my student loans.

Except they never forced me to sign it. I'm loath to remember that even though they pressured me, they did give me the choice to either sign or walk out, and I chose to sign. It may be morally bankrupt, but I fear it's perfectly legal, and I consented to every single clause when I added my signature to the bottom. Plus, they're paying off my student loans in return.

I suddenly realize that the cop car is gone, and I've been ruminating on the sidewalk for several moments. I check in both directions for more cars before crossing the street, my heels clicking on the asphalt. I can also feel Steven's semen oozing down my leg with more leaking out.

I ignore it as best I can. All I have to do is act confident and put one high-heeled foot in front of the other until I reach the Walgrens' front gate again. I look a lot more confident than I feel, keeping my head high and my shoulders back with cum dripping out of my pussy in public.

***

At long last, I make it back to the dubious safety of the Walgrens' mansion. I'm buzzed through the security gate, cross the final distance to the front door, and ring the doorbell, all while cum is oozing down my inner calf towards my strappy heel.

The door opens and Gina is there to greet me, wearing yoga shorts and a tight top that leaves her washboard belly exposed. Her long chestnut hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she ushers me inside. As I step over the threshold, I notice she isn't smiling at me.

"How was your little walk?" She asks as she shuts the front door.

"Fine," I reply, nervously wondering if the trickle of cum will reach my heel, "apart from being told to take lewd photos of myself in a public place."

"Roll up your skirt," she instructs me, "and hold still."

I nervously obey, rolling up the hem of my skirt before positioning my feet in a wide stance. Gina's been holding a tissue this whole time, and she squats down in front of me to wipe away the semen from my inner calf and then my inner thigh. As she finishes, more cum starts to drip out of my pussy, and she drops the tissue and uses her tongue instead.

I inhale sharply as Gina's wet tongue slides up my inner thigh until it reaches my womanhood. She then gives my pussy a long, sensuous lick, making me fight the urge to squirm.

"There," she remarks, standing up again, "all gone."

"Which way do you swing again?"

"I'm definitely straight," Gina answers confidently, "and then only for Steven, but it's still fun to play with the same team sometimes."

"But you just licked your husband's cum out of another woman's pussy."

"Yeah." Gina visibly swallows the dollop of cum in her mouth. "So what?"

I have absolutely no answer to that, especially since I think I already know the deeper reason.

"Steven told me you were complaining that your breasts feel sore." Her comment catches me off guard, even more so when I see she's serious.

"That's right," I admit, once again conscious of my nipples rubbing uncomfortably against my bandeau covering, "but it wasn't bad enough to call in sick."

"He also said you complained about feeling tired."

"Yeah, why?"

"Have you had any spotting?"

Now I'm really puzzled. "Not really, no."

Gina nods and beckons for me to follow her. I dutifully follow her up the stairs to the landing, and then into the master bedroom. My bags are lined up against the wall -- presumably left there by Steven -- but everything else is as I remember it.

"Take your clothes off," Gina instructs me as she sits down on the bed and removes her ankle socks, "you and I need some more alone time."

"Ooh, a secret affair behind Steven's back?"

"Hah, cute," Gina replies, unamused, "but no, we need to talk."

A nervous knot forms in my stomach, but I obey and start removing my clothes, taking care to mind my sore breasts. Once I've deposited my clothes in a neatly folded pile on the bed, Gina leads me naked to the bathroom. Not for the first time -- or the last -- I grimace with envy at her gorgeously toned figure, especially from behind.

I wonder if we're going to have a bath or a shower together, but first she kneels down in front of the bathroom cabinet and retrieves something. As she tears open the packaging and extracts the contents, I do a double take when she hands me a pregnancy test.

"Pee on this," she orders me, "I'll get the shower going."

With a trembling hand, I take the pregnancy test and sit down on the toilet. Gina gives me the packaging so I can read the instructions before starting the shower. Once I've peed on the stick, I place the test on top of the bathroom cabinet and toss the packaging in the trash.

"Ready?" Gina's waiting for me, and I join her in the shower.

Am I pregnant? I don't have time to process the implications of that possibility before Gina's hands are all over me. The shower water is just the right soothing temperature, and she presses my body against the wall, washing my hair for me and running her hands across my ass.

She steps closer until her big chest is pressing against my back. Her hands slide up and down my flanks and touch my breasts, as if she's trying to give me a body-on-body massage.

"Ugh, just come out of the closet already," I murmur just loud enough for Gina to hear me.

"I'm not a lesbian, Grace."

"Then why do you like to feel me up so much?"

Gina leans in close until her mouth is next to my ear. "Because I can."

Of course. It's about power. It's all about power. Asserting this kind of intimate, sexual power over someone else's body makes her feel more in control when her husband fucks other women.

But all of that stays in my head. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Your future," Gina answers ominously, "once your contract is fulfilled and we've paid off all of your student debt, where do you see yourself going from there?"

My life for the past few months has been so defined by my contractual sexual subservience to the Walgrens that I hadn't even considered life afterwards. Total silence prevails in the cramped shower except for the sound of the water hitting our backs.

"I have absolutely no idea," I respond after the longest time, "I guess I'll just have to make my way as a single mother to your husband's illegitimate child."

"Well, you'd still get support on that front," Gina informs me.

I sigh wearily, feeling the weight of responsibilities that I never asked for bearing down on me.

"How do you feel?" Gina sounds almost maternal, and it's really unnerving.

"I was never sure I even wanted kids," I murmur pensively, "now I'm gonna have my first kid before I've even gotten my first job. A real job, not concubinage in exchange for debt relief."

"But you still went to bed with a rich older man you met at a hotel bar."

Gina's talking about the night I met Steven, and the one-night stand that got me that fateful job interview. "That feels like a lifetime ago," I respond, staring at the shower wall.

"Why'd you do it?"

I'm not sure I want to give away that much to Gina, but it's not as if she doesn't have enough to use against me already. "I'd spent a whole year looking for a job, sending out resumes, going to interviews, working part-time as a barista, and getting nothing."