Anna's Humiliation Continues (Version Three)


Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Coercion, Heterosexual, Fiction, Cuckold, Wife Watching, MaleDom, Humiliation, Black Male, Oral Sex, Cream Pie, Size, .

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Version Three of Anna trying to get a contract for her husband.

There are several versions of this story. My first was Anna's Gambit. The next one was Anna's Humiliation Continues. This is my latest revision. I'm in a rut. Rather than start a new one, I have tried to embellish this series. This is the (latest) one I am most intrigued with. The acknowledgement below was part of the original one:

There's an author on who uses the pen name of "scorpi00155." I have gone back to his stories a number of times to read them. His story of "Getting the Contract" is one of my favorites. I have emailed him telling him so. I have offered to re-write the story for nothing other than my own amusement. I believe I stated that I was willing to let him use it as a variation to his own.

As near as I know, he has not responded. His story is still posted under his name and the same title. If anybody objects to my rewriting and posting this, I will remove it. I have changed some of the names and changed some of the descriptions. Please read his to see the difference.

His story (in my mind) has a lot of "run-on sentences." I am 72 and don't see clearly, but there seemed to be many sentences that had commas where there should be a period and the next word capitalized. I don't know why my program didn't catch them on spell check. I have NOT gone through and painfully weeded through all of it like I should. If you are a stickler for proper grammar or reading the works of an educated journalist, this is not for you.

I was just trying to create a story in my mind...

Anna did not like the setup one bit. She crossed her arms stubbornly as her husband started the car and roared off into the night. "I think we're pretty much on time." He said as he glanced over his shoulder while merging with the traffic. He tried to lighten the conversation to see if he could get his wife to talk about something. He knew she was not happy about going to the gathering tonight.

Anna was pissed, but agreed to go. She did not like Jim Wellswood; did not care for the way he looked at her. There was nothing her husband ever noticed, but women seem to have that second instinct about men. Never the less, she had agreed to go. Jim Wellswood was an influential man, and her husband was antsy about his invention, the patent and possibly getting enough start-up capital to continue.

People looking at Anna and Mark Menendez nowadays see them as a successful couple; both in their relationship and business life. Married for fifteen years they have managed to grow ever closer in that time. To Mark, Anna is more beautiful at forty than she was at twenty five when they married. Despite the years her figure is as firm as in her youth. Her red hair had no hint of grey, and her eyes still sparkle with mirth and innocence. Mark, her husband is more distinguished over the years.

Together they have built up a successful supply business. Mark had been interested from the time he was a teenager with Café Racers.

Started five years ago, Mark had gambled most of his retirement fund for the software, patents and machine work for mass assembly. They were close to being the successful couple with nary a care in the world. The thinking had been done. Everything was in place.

Jim Wellswood had a massive website organization. Whenever somebody clicked on a combination of words like: "POD Air Filters; Café Racer; Re-jetting Carburetors, etc." he was paid a few pennies for each click. He was constantly making deals with distributors to be on his website.

"It's not good Mark," Anna sighed, "if we don't get a break soon we'll lose everything."

"All we can do is pray we get the Wellswood contract." he sighed back.

"Do you think we're in the running?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered slowly, "I really don't know."

"Didn't Wellswood say anything when you met him yesterday?" she asked.

"Only that our quote was under review." he answered "Maybe he'll say more at the party tonight."

"Mark," Anna frowned, "I'm puzzled. Why did Wellswood invite us tonight? Why us and none of the others that have quoted for his contract?"

"I don't know Anna," he shrugged, "and I'm as puzzled as you about that, but we have to go to the party if only to keep Wellswood sweet."

"I know." Anna sighed deeply, "Only I don't like the man, there's something ... slimy about him."

"I don't like him any more than you do," Mark sighed back, "but we need his contract. Without it we'll go under."

"I know, I know." Anna frowned, "And if we get the Wellswood contract it will give us an in with the Carillon group. I just..."

"Just what?" Mark asked as Anna fell silent.

She shook her head then smiled, but though her lips were smiling her eyes were troubled.

"It's just me being silly," Anna finally responded, "I just have a feeling about tonight."

"Feeling?" he asked feeling confused.

"Forget it Mark," she laughed, "Even I don't know what I mean by it.

Mark glanced discretely over at his wife although he seemed to have his eyes on the road. It was clear that Anna had reluctantly decided to at least go through the effort to try to charm their host. She had picked out her sexiest evening dress; one she normally only wore at home. It was a dark grey, floor-length button-front, with a Décolletage that showed off most of her bust. It was thin enough that her daughter, Dakota had teased her about the bra lines and chided her about trying to wear a bra with it. She felt she had made enough concessions by even putting the dress on. She was not going to appear in public without a bra. Since Anna wouldn't wear the dress without a bra, her daughter talked her into giving up the usual, padded, foamed, granny type of bra and used an almost tissue thin, transparent one, made out of the panty hose material. It didn't hide much; but at least for Anna, she had the emotional or psychological support of having some sort of support garment under the dress.

The dress came long enough that her daughter had coerced her into wearing her 6" high black high-heel boots. The boots were zippered up the side, and the tops stopped just below her knees.

Anna felt like a hooker in her daughter's boots and low cut dress, but she had been outvoted by her husband and daughter. Around the house, maybe without her daughter around, Anna, in a weak moment, might have been secretly been thrilled to see her reflection in the mirror; but to be in public like this was unthinkable.

It didn't take them long to get to the Wellswood address. It turned out to be a large house, almost a mansion, with a party in full swing as they drove up to the front of the house. As they got out of the car, Mark glanced at his watch concerned about being late and was relieved to find they were five minutes early. Giving the car keys to a uniformed flunky he took Anna's arm and headed for the entrance.

"Mark, Anna, come in, come in." Wellswood said as he greeted them at the door, "Anna I must say that you look delightful tonight, truly delightful."

"Thank you Mr. Wellswood." Anna responded.

"Come now," Wellswood smiled, "let's not be so formal, it's Jim."

"Then thank you Jim." Anna said; forcing one of her sweet innocent smiles.

Wellswood was in his late fifties, graying at the temples and thinning on top. He had obviously led the good life with plenty of time to spend at the gymnasium, pool and track. He had a bit of a mustache and goatee. His lizard skin boots added a couple of inches to his already full 6'-0" slender frame. Beaming at them he led the way to the bar, Mark felt Anna's arm tense a little when Wellswood wrapped his arm around her back, but she tried valiantly to smile sweetly at him. Leaving them at the bar he went off to attend to some of his other guests with a promise to be back 'soon'. Accepting drinks from the barman Mark and Anna looked around the room, there were about ten people there. Although the situation escaped Mark, Anna picked up quickly that everyone except her was male; but then they began to recognize some of them.

She recognized Ben. She had reservations about him too. Ben Blackwater was their banker and also the father of one of their daughter's best friends. Dakota didn't like him either; kind of creepy. He was always making vague suggestive comments to her. Anna decided not to add to her daughter's doubts by saying anything negative about him. "Why make things worse if it is just my unfounded opinion?" she said to herself.

"Most of these people are top end business men. Think of the contacts we can make tonight!"

"Never mind the contacts," Anna almost whispered back, "just concentrate on getting that contract from Wellswood. If we get that perhaps some of the others will follow his lead."

Anna looked around the room then leaned close to her husband.

"I wonder where all the wives are?" she said softly.

"Home; I guess." he commented, "Does it make any difference?"

"No, I guess not." Anna smiled nervously.

Just then Mark spotted their host heading across the room towards them. He waved for them to follow him to another room so Mark felt hopeful that they were going to get the good news about the contract. Anna must have thought the same thing because she nudged him and grinned. They joined Wellswood in a large study that adjoined the main room; he was perched on the edge of an ornate oak table as they entered the room. Smiling he waved for them to take seats then sipped at the glass he held.

"Well," he said at last, "what do you think of my humble home?"

"We haven't seen much of it," Anna replied with a smile, "but what we've seen is impressive."

.... There is more of this story ...

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