Chapter 17. The Slut Treatment
Craig's place was nice. For a guy I'd understood to be a gym instructor, it was swanky -- rather more ostentatious than my own house. I made a mental note to check out some realtors, now that my app deal was dramatically improving my bank balance. I thought it might also be prudent to move house before Dean got out of the slammer, just in case.
Stacey's outfit was somewhere in the region between 'kinda cute and sexy' and 'not too outrageously slutty'. She'd arranged her long, silky hair into two plaits on either side of her head, making her look even more like jailbait than normal. Her dress was short, tight and displayed more flesh than I might have been comfortable with if we'd been, say, in church or at a school function where my presence alongside her could (quite understandably) be mistaken for the behavior of a stalker or pervert. I protested -- pointlessly, I knew -- that what she was wearing -- and also
wasn't
wearing -- might not be appropriate.
"Uncle Bob, we're going to
Barbie's
place to
fuck
. She's already told you she wants to take you up her ass again, and honestly, what girl wouldn't? So I need to be dressed for the occasion."
"Stacey, baby, may I remind you that the occasion is supposed to be about
me
, your dear old uncle, receiving a well-deserved reward by getting his rocks off inside a very grateful -- and steaming-hot -- young lady? And for once, that isn't you. I guess that Barbie invited you because she knows you normally travel around on my dick, because she may like a side order of pussy with all the meat she'll be getting, and because you could be an amusing fuck-toy for Craig, her guy, while I'm fucking her brains out. The thing is, knowing Barbie's taste in men, Craig's probably gonna be built like King Kong and have a cock like my forearm. I'm not sure that's your thing, baby, and if he gets that cock inside you, he might just rip you apart. I'm worried that you'll take one look at him, go 'Euch!', and spend the rest of the evening trying not to get raped while watching me fucking Barbie in every available hole. And I may not have the time, the opportunity or the remaining jizz to stick my cock inside you as well. Barbie's very demanding."
"Uncle Bob, I appreciate that you're just trying to make it sound attractive for me." She paused and stuck out her tongue -- on her, a very sexy look. "But I
have
had a big cock before, you know. In Italy there was Giorgio and actually, Jaco's was a pretty good size. But even if I don't find Craig attractive, I'm sure Barbie wouldn't let him rape me, and I can always eat Barbie's pussy while you're ass-fucking her. Maybe Craig might be good at pussy-munching, too."
"OK, OK already, But I'm not sure that a butt-plug is the kind of body jewelry a young lady should wear to an occasion like this. Leave your panties at home, why don't ya? I mean, it would hardly be the first time. But remember, your ass is mine, and if Craig is hung the way Barbie suggested, you really won't appreciate him being the one to remove the plug and fill the hole with something larger."
When Craig opened the door, I was surprised. I mean, he was clearly very, very fit. His shoulders were broad, and I could tell from the way his shirt molded to his body that his upper torso was about as good as a guy could make it. The inverted-triangle look that most guys try to achieve sat perfectly on him. He wasn't at all like Dean. His smile was welcoming. His face was handsome. He not only looked very strong, but he appeared to be both intelligent and friendly.
And black.
I have no idea why it didn't occur to me that Barbie would have a black boyfriend, but it wasn't only the skin color that shouted how different he was than Dean. From the brief phone conversations I'd had with him on the day that Barbie had been assaulted, I'd guessed that I'd probably like the guy. His response showed that he truly cared for her, and that was a good thing in my book -- given that she'd made it clear that I would never be granted sole possession of her deliciousness. But here, in the flesh, he seemed to exude a calm, friendly confidence that Dean could never achieve. Dean was all pumped-up angst; Craig was the kind of guy you immediately liked, despite him being handsome, strong and more than able to smash someone's teeth down their throat.
"Bob, I'm so pleased to meet you at last. Barbie and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude." He reached out and shook my hand firmly, then glanced up at the girl behind me. "And you must be Stacey! Wow! I can see why Barbie's so fond of you! You're a lucky guy, Bob. Welcome, both of you. Do please come in."
Craig led the way into the house, which was -- I have to say -- pretty opulent. I'm not exactly short, but Craig towered over me. I guessed he must be maybe six-eight. And he wasn't what you'd call 'heavy' with it. I looked at his ass and thighs in the tight jeans he wore -- don't get me wrong, I'm not gay -- and felt jealous that someone could be such a perfectly shaped male. I could definitely see why Barbie preferred Craig to me.
I turned to Stacey, and she looked back at me in wide-eyed wonder. 'Oh. My. God.' She mouthed at me, clearly impressed.
"I've made us a seafood dinner, but I'd rather not cook it straight away. A meal can make me sleepy, and I think the girls would probably prefer to do what we're here for on an empty stomach -- if you understand what I'm saying. However, there are a few snacks around if you're feeling hungry and I'll be fixing drinks. I have several white and red wines, a selection of beers and sodas and there's a jug of Margaritas in the refrigerator. Barbie and I are drinking a nice Chilean Chardonnay. What's it to be, guys?"
"Yeah, the Chardonnay would be nice, please. For both of us."
Craig seemed unfazed by the idea of Stacey drinking alcohol. We followed him into the kitchen. Stacey moved in close and whispered in my ear. "Oh my God, Uncle Bob! Craig looks amazing! I don't think you'll need to stop him raping me. If you do, I'll never speak to you again."
I smiled. "Amazing place you have here, Craig. So how did you get together with Barbie?"
"Thanks. She came into one of my gyms when I was there. I noticed her -- hey, who wouldn't notice Barbie? She was with Dean, but he just seemed focused on his own workout -- or mostly posing with ridiculous weights in front of the mirror. Barbie was working out but her form wasn't great, so I went to advise her. We talked, and before she left, she passed me a card with her cell number and a time to call her. When I did, she told me she didn't feel safe with Dean. Things kinda developed from there. A month later, she left Dean and moved here."
"I'm glad. When Stacey and I met her, she didn't seem happy."
"Yeah. Dean is, like, such a loser," Stacey added.
"I think we'd all agree with that," Craig responded. I could see from the way he was looking at Stacey, and the way she was looking at him, that I needn't have worried about what would happen when Barbie and I were busy.
"Craig, you said 'one of my gyms.' How many do you have?"
"Three at the moment, in Delray, Boca and West Palm. I'm negotiating on a fourth in Miami. I majored in sports medicine but also studied business for my degree, and I managed to get a group of backers, including my dad who owns a company back in Chicago, to get me started. After a couple of years, I was able to get funding for a second, and then a third. They're very popular, and they help me afford a place like this."
He passed Stacey and me a very generous glass of the Chardonnay each. I sipped the wine. It was, as Craig said, very good. Stacey took a much larger gulp, and I guessed that any inhibitions she may have had would soon be removed -- probably at about the same time as what there was of her clothing.
And then Barbie appeared. My chinos were a little tight to start with, but they instantly started to crush my balls as my dick expanded dramatically when I saw her outfit. The top was made of a kind of web of tiny black threads that converged with rings through which her nipples -- already hard, as I could see -- protruded. The panties were similar, with ties at the sides and tiny straps going between her legs, leaving a kind of arch at the front and -- as I saw when she did a twirl -- at the rear. Matching hold-up stocking and some high, strappy 'fuck me' shoes almost completed the outfit. I say 'almost', because she was wearing a leather collar with a ring -- the kind that takes a leash. And a butt-plug, with a short, fluffy black tail. Her make-up was, I thought, a little extreme, with huge false eyelashes and heavy red lipstick, and her hair had been lightened and nicely styled. This babe was smoking hot in street clothes. Dressed -- if that was the word -- like that, I thought she might spontaneously combust. Certainly, it felt my cock might.
"Hi, Bob. Hi, Stacey. Like what you see, Bob?"
"Barbie, I'd be desperate to fuck you if you were dressed in a sack and covered in coal dust. I'd lick your pussy if it was drenched in Budweiser. Seeing you dressed like that, I -- I'm utterly speechless."
"Barbie, you look totally smoking. And could you, like, dress up that way around Uncle Bob all the time. That way, he could so be persuaded to shut the fuck up occasionally." Stacey leaned in and kissed Barbie. What started as a 'hi there' kiss seemed to turn instantly into a heavy girl-on-girl scene. As Stacey's hand came around from behind Barbie's back to cup one of her magnificent tits, and Barbie's went down below the hem of Stacey's skirt to stroke my slut-angel's pert little ass, I saw Craig grinning.
"Seems like the ladies have been missing each other. How about we move to the bedroom before we create a fire hazard here?"
The bedroom was big. I mean, my bedroom is a good size, but this was fucking vast. The bed was super-king sized, and there was a sex-swing hanging in one corner. And mirrors; lots of mirrors.
"Do you have any cameras, Craig?" I asked quietly. "And are you planning to use them?"
