What The Fuck Ch 01 Sluttification

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Author's notes: Warning! This is an extramarital non-consent/reluctance sex story, where the couple is seduced into becoming sex slaves to an entire company. 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.]

[Warning: This story has extensive male/male sexual contact, in addition to the wife being turned into a complete slut. It would be more at home in the Fetish -- Cuckold category, except for the clear drugging and extortion.]

[This is loosely based upon the same premise as the "What The...?" series of stories by Castlemania. His ratings were savaged by the Anonymous, because he was in essence writing a "Burn The Bitch" story without the husband ever leaving until he was in too deep. Anonymous don't write stories, or offer constructive criticism, so for their benefit, I'm not gay, I'm not bi, I don't suck cock, this is a work of FICTION. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so here is my imitation story.]

*****

The first memory I have of Debbie is from my freshman year of high school. We had a couple of classes together, plus she was in the band playing flute while I was in orchestra playing violin, but we had joint recitals and we were each other's first kiss (in a band instrument room). She was on the gymnastics team, a real sparkplug, destined to be the next Mary Lou Retton or Nadia Comaneci. But her body had other ideas, as she quickly grew a rack almost as big as her mother, Donna. Yet Donna knew what I was learning in every locker room conversation -- Debbie was being targeted by the big dogs at the school, and pretty soon my beautiful brunette gymnast with the big jugs became the belle of the ball for someone else: the homecoming queen for Tom Watts, Captain of the football team and homecoming king. She looked glorious that night in her sequined gown. I tried to focus on my date and not think of him taking it off of her (although according to locker room gossip they had already done that and much more).

A couple of years later at college, I found Debbie again, walking through the quad, head down, covered up in sweats and hoodie, yet her angular Pat Benatar style face shown like a beacon to me.

"Debbie?" I call out before she completely passes me by.

"Jonny? Is that you? IT IS!" she squeals in glee as she wraps her arms around me in a full bodied hug. I could tell the breasts have grown some more since I last felt them, and yet her tight rear end -- if anything is even tighter. She pulls me down to a kiss of her soft, full lips, and it is like the old makeout sessions -- all we allowed ourselves back in the day -- well every kind of sex except penetration (which meant a lot of oral) - were just a few moments ago, an interruption we conquered. But her lush kisses today have a heat we never shared before.

"Are you and Tom still a thing?" I ask warily, not wanting to give up my prize, but not wanting to get a beating from a quarterback turned college linebacker.

"I don't see him anymore." she says with a sour note in her voice, then happily "I quit dating jocks. Too high maintenance."

"You were gorgeous together at homecoming." I remind her wistfully.

"Yup. Once everybody knows you've popped your cherry, which everybody knew long before homecoming thanks to Tom's big mouth, they all get in line for a piece. Thus the high maintenance." she says with a laugh.

"So -- unattached?" I ask hopefully.

"Yup. How about you? Lilah drag you off to Goth world and make you her pet?" Debbie teases, pointing out that I had gone from cream of the crop to (presumed) slut of the month in order to even have a date for homecoming, but also letting me know that even with the quarterback king of the prom at her side, she'd paid attention to me, which had to be a good thing. Not that Lilah was a bad thing. Lilah had no limits, nothing I could not do with her, nothing she would not do for me. She had a bad reputation at the school, and you did not want to cross her, as many had found out. She was a force to be reckoned with, yet never anything but loyal to me, and I got the sense Debbie is checking out if she would get on Lilah's radar if we started dating.

"Yes, Lilah took me to her dungeon and I cried when she finally let me go. Taught me that loving a slut has its advantages." I said with a smile, remembering fondly the dark witch and her powers of resurrection, (mostly heavy suction applied directly to the tip of my cock). Also she polished my face with her thick dark muff -- a lot -- and then rode me like a pony across her finish line. It was very rare it wasn't woman on top with Lilah, not that I minded.

"Does it now? I'll have to remember that if I ever become one." Debbie said in her voice and eye twitch that told me she'd been some distance down slut road herself, but I didn't want to pry.

"So you going to the Chi Omega party tonight?" I ask hopefully.

"I'm required to at least put in an appearance. Made the squad again this year." Debbie said shyly.

"Bravo! Gymnast turned cheerleader really has worked out for you! Planning on going pro?" I say before I understand the implications of my own question, but I see the hurt look on her face and try to backpedal. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I was thinking Dallas Cowboys, you're that good."

"And not the standard implication? That most cheerleaders who don't make the squad in their later years become common whores? How far down 'Slut Road' do you think I've gone?", Debbie says as she pushes me away, and then says "Don't answer that. I don't need to hear your opinion anymore."

I watch her stomp away from me, her hands balled into fists, and remember that getting too close to her fire has left me burned before (when she left me and started dating Tom). Dynamite comes in small packages and thermonuclear devices in even smaller ones named Debbie.

Lilah and I get back together, as we are both pre-law, forming an intense study and boning group. Well some study and lots of intense boning, Lilah is like a personal trainer for sexual exhaustion, as my Dad sometimes says about women, with a thermostat set on high heat. Her waif like Goth figure from our high school days gets the padding it always deserved, and she ends up more "Xena, Warrior Princess" than "Elvira, Mistress of the Dark". Lilah has a damn nice set of curves, but it is the dark witch mind that flips my switch.

We go to different law schools, even though she offers to get her family to guarantee my student loans, ending that relationship. I've never met her dad in all our years of dating, and her mom is a cocktail waitress in a strip club who only makes a small fraction of what the strippers do, but at least she keeps her clothes on. I'd had to take her things for Lilah at her work, and liked the lingerie she wore.

So I stick around for the local law school I can afford, working as a paralegal for a local law firm to cover my bills. One day some buds and I go to the local "Breastaurant" down the street from the strip club, and are lucky enough to be seated in the right section.

"Holy shit! Look at the cans on that one!" one of my buddies says, as she brings her tray -- and 34E (I know, it says right next to her name on the tag) breasts and practically stuffs them in my face, right under my jaw. Due to her short height, she has to get a leg up on the crossbar of the stool, precariously threatening to tip us both over, so I mind my manners and keep the motion to a minimum.

"Hello, Jonny boy. BTW, for the rest of you who don't and won't get this treatment today, Jonny and I used to be boyfriend/girlfriend. He used to get to rub and lick and suck these puppies every single day and twice on Sundays. He is very, very good at it, and I have recommended him to all the other waitresses. So while I take your orders, let me remind him what he is missing." Debbie says as she whispers "So help me God, Jonny, if you motorboat me right now and get me fired, I will break this serving tray over your head or beat you to death with it, whichever comes first."

I desperately try to suppress a laugh, which still sneaks out as a snicker, so I quickly reply "Yes, Ma'am. Perhaps we could go fishing after you get off work?"

That had been our little phrase to communicate in public about arranging our makeout sessions. Debbie throws back her head and laughs, smacking my jaw with her boobs on the way up as she dismounts my bar stool to ground level, "By God Jonny-boy, you are as dedicated to fishing as your Dad. Yup, if you still have the old rod and boat, we can go for some midnight fishing!"

Debbie set to taking excellent care of my friends, rubbing herself on them like a cat as their eyes bug out, getting everything just right, and when I get the check, it has a note on it which says "Midnight sharp! Not a minute late or I drive myself home alone!"

I figure I already had two strikes against me with the love of my life, the one who got away, the one who was everything I ever wanted in a wife or girlfriend. I went to the Wal-Mart and bought a dozen red roses. I got a six pack of Alien Amber Ale and a nice Blue Teal White Zinfandel and stashed them in my fridge. I took a quick cold shower and dressed to impress. Most of all I got there early. My Mom always taught me if you can't be on time, be early, and I am certain this is my date with destiny.

She walks out the employee entrance and I start closing the distance across the parking lot, as does the security guard until she waives him off. I present the roses "An apology for my prior misbehavior and an indication of the esteem in which I hold your beauty."

She laughs. "Diamonds are a girls best friend. But as you can see, I didn't take that road, much to the distress of my bank account."

"What gaineth a woman, if she claims all the gold, but diggeth a hole to bury her soul?" I reply back.

Debbie laughs heartily, then says "You mixmastered that metaphor pretty good, but the truth is, your words could not have come at a better time for me. I ended up having to choose between becoming a whore and becoming a college graduate. I put my nose back to the wheel and got it done. Thank you."

"It cost me terribly. I was Lilah's indentured slave for years because you didn't show at the party." I complain, tongue well in cheek.

"I hope Lilah trained your tongue with some new tricks, because I'm kind of world weary now. As for the party, I was there, but already drunk and naked in a room upstairs. Thus the having to decide if I truly was to become a whore or finish school." Debbie confesses.

"As you can see, I have a new boat." I say as I lead her to the Lexus. When I take the bar, I plan on further upgrades.

"We don't have to play with the rod without dipping it in, or just kiss the fish either. My place or yours stud, take me now or lose me forever." Debbie puckers up, and I kiss her soft, well padded lips, our tongues dueling with a feral intensity they never had before. This is "Lilah-on-her-period intense", her hands fishing for my pole in my trousers.

The security guard coughs, and we separate, blinking, as we get into the car.

"Hey, that reminds me. You said my dad was a dedicated fisherman. What exactly did you mean by that?" I ask her as I drive, after finding out my place is closer.

"Every time we went out, he would run into the garage. Well one day, I pretended to have a date with you when I knew you weren't home. So I went to the wall next to your neighbors, the one with the windows, and there he was, pants around his ankles, wanking his rod to climax after climax. Told my sisters, and they watched him for years. Everytime my mom or I showed up, as soon as he could, he went fishing in the garage." she confesses, then slides her hand over to open up my trousers, sliding her hand onto my cock. "I'm thinking about doing some fishing myself. Can I borrow your rod?" Her hand is small, and it makes my cock feel huge. Thinking about my dad whacking off to her and her mom was a weird twist, but not half as weird as as her hands corkscrew motions on my cock.

"I can't hold out. Please, stop! In minutes we'll be at my place." I warn.

"What makes you think I can't blow you hard again in mere moments? What makes you think I won't make your tongue serve my pussy until you have given me more cums than Lilah? That witch owes me. That's right, Jonny-boy, you serve my pussy now, with mouth or cock, or taking my strap-on up your ass!" she laughs with glee, as I spunk all over the inside of my Lexus, and she wipes it up with her fingers, rolling her tongue over the blobs like an ice-cream delicacy. She is lust incarnate, for my taste, for my come.

We glide to a stop under the covered parking of my condo, in my assigned space. Debbie takes her top and bra off, then dives back into my lap. Those soft lips slide down my shaft, as her hands pull on my balls, finding out exactly how much slack there is, only to dart back to my shaft, pulling my skin taunt in firm strokes. Several more twitches release blobs of cum into her mouth, and she moans for each one.

She pulls off my cock with her mouth, as she continues stretching my ballsack and shaft with her hands. "If you aren't fully hard in another minute, I take off the skirt and panties, and just hope the walk to your place isn't far. Another minute after that, and you will have to fuck me bent over the trunk, naked in front of God and everybody."

Debbie returns to sucking me, as she guides my right hand to her left nipple, then returns to ballsack stretching and shaft stroking. Just as I get used to it, she goes into a frenzy stroking my shaft, one hand over the other, almost punching into my balls, but her small hand doesn't carry much weight or force. Her mouth is sucking hard, like she is trying to vacuum out my spunk by sheer force of suction, then she starts twisting one hand one direction, and the other the other, like wringing out a mop. I am hard again and she sighs.

"Damn. One night I'm going to win and you will have to bend me over the trunk. She grabs her top and bra in one hand and gets out of the car, baring her breasts to the whole complex, and being an upscale University area, there are lots of people milling about, even after midnight. I try to rush her inside, she tries to slow walk it, waving to everybody.

Once inside, she simply demands "Bed." I point like an Irish setter at a bird with both my arm and cock.

"Cock. Pussy. NOW! I've been stirring the pot, making all my little fishes swim in circles all night. You get them on that fishing rod!" Debbie demands as she jumps into the doggie style position on my bed, her tight gymnast/cheerleader ass ready to break my boner. I shuck my pants and underwear in a smooth motion I've never since equaled, spearing into her tight snatch full length in a single stroke.

"YES-s-s-s-s-s!" she hisses, as my hips thrash, moving us forward and backward on the bed, but not changing the position of my cock inside her one bit. Debbie has clamped down on me, throbbing, as she flips her hips, mumbling. She is so wet she is dripping down her legs, dripping on my bed, yet so tight I cannot move inside her. Then she lets up, on purpose or from lack of control, and since I stopped moving, she is now fucking me. The amount of friction is incredible despite lube splashing everywhere, as I respond, my hips driving my shaft as deep into her tight wetness as I can get with her bouncing her butt up and down, back and forth, like a fish trying to get off my rod. I surrender to the need of my balls, blasting into her as she joins my obscene cheer "Ungh-ungh-ungha-ungha-ungh-ungh-UGNH!" We try to make the bliss last, but the moment is gone, and we collapse onto the bed.

We roll over, and she gets off of me, only to turn around, dropping her mouth onto my still hard cock, letting the tufts of her thin pussy fur drop out of the sky onto my face, as she says "Again." It isn't a question, it is a command, one that I would like to get used to, as my tongue feasts on her sloppy cum filled pussy, something I am used to with Lilah, but never imagined my sweet Debbie would do to me. I clean out our come as Debbie rides me again and again until dawn, her proud breasts sailing above me as she pulls on her puffy nipples and strums her clit bud until we pass out, somewhere near dawn.

Debbie in essence moved in that night, we didn't spend nights apart after that. She continues working at the breastaurant. I pick her up each night, getting a blowjob as I drive her home and having to get hard again quickly or have her climb out of the car naked. About once per week, usually on a weekend night, I would "lose", and be "forced" to fuck her naked, her hands on the trunk of my car, boobs shaking like wild balloons in a hurricane. Several times we ended up with an audience, nobody ever called the police, I guess they thought it was performance art. About nine months later we were married in a simple ceremony at the courthouse with her folks and mine. I passed the bar, starting as an Associate at Johnson & Johnson, P.C., while Debbie starts volunteering at the YWCA. Is it possible to make a hard body harder? She did.

About two years later, Debbie and I celebrate my promotion to junior partner. We go to the strip club Lilah's mom works at, even getting lap dances from her. Debbie is just wildly fondling and groping the dancers, quite drunk, and we get thrown out. Still doesn't stop her from throwing me on the bed and repeating our "first date", screwing me into the mattress until dawn.

Debbie and I drive up into the mountains, watching the mix of scrub oak and Ponderosa pine glide by the window. She is wearing a crop top t-shirt to show off her belly ring to distract from her massive globes. No bra, so there is a good four inches of breast standing out from her chest, leaving a distinct tilt to the hem of her shirt, but at least her puffy nipples are not yet on alert. The Lexus I was able to buy as an intern has been upgraded to the top of the line hybrid, with leather seats, on which she has one leg folded up, splitting the slit of her leather skirt so that her lacy white panties are on display. She teaches gymnastics and swimming at the YWCA now, so her legs are smooth as alabaster yet hard as steel. Her whole body is firmer now, even more taunt than when she was a cheerleader. Strappy sandals, pearl earrings, and a light, classy makeup complete the outfit. Her hair is cut short, in the frosted craze that is sweeping the nation, but she looks good. We arrive at the picnic area with the cabins, to the logo and name of the law firm I work for, like a big business card made poster size.

Wives and husbands are milling around the picnic table with the food, all catered, so we quickly fill our plates and find a table. Debbie is handed a beer in a plastic cup as am I, and we sit on the concrete tables. Debbie's chest crashes into the table, so she turns to the right, throwing a leg over the bench to ride it sidesaddle. Peter, the Senior Partner takes the spot next to her, while Kevin and Brad sit across from me. We eat our food, we chat about football game results expected tomorrow, we get new beers, and the three Senior Partners rotate places.

Peter is the oldest, and has the most salt in his salt and pepper, short cropped hair. Not really thick at all, but tall, and still a commanding presence, at least twenty years my senior. Kevin is half the distance to my age, built more like a linebacker, because he played football in college. His style is more the dark haired all American guy, and is widely regarded as a Lothario in the office. Brad is the blonde troublemaker, who teases women wickedly in the office, widely regarded as an equal opportunity harasser of attorneys and paralegals alike, even known to stooping to poach other people's secretaries, only to nearly fuck them to death and dump them a few weeks later. Since we represent several adult industry clients, everyone has to sign really strict waivers of sexual harassment claims, leading to open season on staff and professionals alike. So it feels like sharks circling, even as the trees seem to get brighter, the sun seems to be a lot warmer, and Debbie seems to be more animated, but everyone is still having a good time.