Chapter 3

I can't say I "adjusted" to being Greg's sex slave, but I separated it from my "normal" life and tried not to think about it when it wasn't actually happening.

Then one day I did something stupid, and I exposed myself to my husband: It happened as I was coming out of the shower. I was being careless, I guess.

I saw my husband standing there and I froze. He glanced at me; then he turned and stared. I knew immediately what he was looking at. I tried to cover myself, but it was too late. I looked down and saw it too. "Greg's slut" was printed, in ink, across my breasts.

I tried to look back at him, but couldn't. I opened my mouth to try to speak, but I was speechless. I felt dizzy, and then I just collapsed.

I lay there on the bathroom floor, bawling and naked. I knew Master had left his mark on me and my husband had seen it. I knew I was exposed.

I cried and I cried. It was over now, I thought. My life was over.

My husband would divorce me. He would get the house. He would get custody of our children.

I would be alone. And everyone would know.

I felt him kneeling down beside me. When I felt his hand on my shoulder I started blubbering. It all came out; I told him everything... how I'd gone with Tony, how he'd blackmailed me and tricked me, and finally how Greg had made me his property.

I waited for him to curse me, or to hit me, or to leave me lying there naked on the floor.

But he sat down next to me. He didn't say a word.

I glanced at him. He had a pained expression. He was looking at the floor. I saw he might have been crying too.

I crawled over to him. I touched him and he did not push me away. I put my arms around his waist. Still he did not move.

I put my head down on his lap. "I'm so, so sorry... " I cried. "I know what this must do to you." He didn't move.

"I'll-I'll let you have the kids," I continued. "I won't fight you. You can have whatever you want... " I knew no judge would give me custody. I felt I was not good enough to be a wife or mother.

I pressed my face against him, I held him tight. I was afraid to let him go. I did not want to be alone. I did not want for him to leave me.

After a while I felt his hand on my temple, smoothing back my hair. "Kimberly," he said, "I-I don't want to-divorce you." I couldn't help but smile through my tears. I realized I had hoped for this. In my heart I'd hoped he was this good.

I adjusted myself on his lap, and I also noticed he was hard.

He said that he'd suspected. He confessed he didn't know what he would do, but whatever happened, he said, I couldn't go on seeing Greg.

I looked up at him. "I'll do anything for you," I told him, "anything at all... You're much too good for me."

He smiled wanly.

But I knew what to do.

I let my hand slide down his stomach, and I touched him through his pants. His smile faded, but his eyelids drooped. I saw from his expression that this was the right thing to do.

I caressed him through his pants, and when he raised himself, I pulled off his pants and underwear. I held his penis gently in my hands and then caressed it with my cheeks.

I licked him and I tasted saltiness of my tears. I took the tip into my mouth and felt him start to cum immediately. I took the first spurt in my mouth and then I took it out and let him spray the rest onto my face.

I knew my husband was no master, but I wanted him to like this too. When he had finished coming I looked up at him and saw that I'd been right.

I touched my fingers to my face where he had cum on me. Then still looking up at him I slowly brought my fingers to my mouth. When he groaned I also licked some fluid that had landed on his chest.

I opened my mouth so he could see my tongue coated with his cum. I climbed up and straddled him. I held his hands in mine and leaned forward to kiss his mouth. He closed his eyes, and I saw I was right to do this too. When I slipped my tongue into his mouth I felt him harden again beneath me.

Later, we talked about our situation. I cried again. I confessed I couldn't bear the thought of Greg exposing me. He told me he'd stick with me no matter what. I held him and I knew I was blessed to have him for a husband.

The next morning, Greg called me to his office. I saw he was playing tapes of me and I quickly closed the door. I sat down. He turned to face me.

"Kimberly," he sighed, "I'm an old man." He grinned sourly. "You may have noticed."

I looked away.

"I've spoken to your husband. We've, ahh, reached an agreement." He paused.

"I didn't think you'd tell him," he said. He turned away.

I saw he was watching a tape of me and Tony. I saw that Tony was about to cum. I was kneeling down to catch it on my tongue.

"You're a lucky woman Kimberly," Master said. I watched as Tony began to squirt his cum on me.

"I'm leaving soon," he sighed. "I'm going to let them buy me out."

He paused the tape and turned back to me. "I'm planning a little party." He smiled at my expression. "Ask your husband."

He turned his back to me again. "I'll call you when I need you. Now get your slutty cunt out of here."

I felt a thrill of excitement as I left the room. What had happened? What had my husband done for me? Was my master really leaving?

I could barely work. I kept fingering the telephone, dying to call my husband, but I knew he'd be at work. He'd reached an agreement, he'd said. He was going to retire. He was going to leave. Was it really almost over? Could I be a normal woman again?

I also wondered about the party. I shifted nervously in my seat. I'd become such a slut, I realized, that thinking about the "party" was actually turning me on. I bit my lips and stilled myself.

That evening I waited for my husband by the door. I dragged him to the bedroom.

"What happened?" I pleaded. "What did he say?"

My husband smiled. "He agreed to let you go." I hugged him, crying.

"Oh, honey," I bawled, "that's wonderful. You ARE much too good for me."

He pushed me away from him. "You-we-have to do something for him as well."

I dropped my head. "Whatever it is, honey, you know I'll do it. I want for this to end."

He swallowed. Master, he told me, was going to a party, in Cincinnati, a reunion for old friends, people he'd known from his years the army. I would be there. I would have to put on a show, and I would have to go along with whatever happened. In the meantime, I'd have to continue to be Master's slave, until the party, until he retired and moved away. And then I would be free!

He'd said he'd give me back to my husband.

I hung my head in shame, but secretly I was thrilled. I would get the tapes back! I would be a normal woman again! My purgatory would end.

Again I found myself thinking about this party, and now I wondered if my husband would be coming too.

That night I undressed my husband, and I called my master from our bedroom phone. "Master," I said, "may your slave please fuck her husband?" When at last he relented, and granted me permission, I found in me a strange passion building up inside of me. Knowing my husband knew everything, and was willing to fuck me anyway, made me burn for him. I crawled on top of him, and kissed him, and he let me press his wrists against the bed. "I want to be your slut, too," I whispered. He groaned and moved beneath me.

I took him in my mouth, but when I tasted him begin to leak, I warned him not to come. I kissed him again, letting him taste himself on my tongue. I'd learned to like the taste of cum, and I wanted him to taste it too. I reached my hand behind me and moved his cock so it was pressed against me. "Two other men have been there," I whispered in his ear. I felt him move inside me. "Master's cock is tiny," I told him, "But Tony's cock is huge. It felt so good inside me... That's why I let him do it... " He came, moaning in my ear.

We kissed for a while, and then I crawled up over his belly, positioning myself above his face. He saw what I was about to do, but made no move to stop me. I lowered myself on his mouth, although I knew he'd taste his sperm inside me. He was reluctant, but he knew what I wanted him to do. "Please, baby," I moaned, "Please put your tongue inside me... " I came as soon as I felt his tongue inside my cunt.

Afterwards I asked my husband if he'd be there for the show. He said he would. We held each other tightly and fell asleep in each other's arms.

The party was about two weeks later. Master drove me there. I rode beside him nervously; fingering the hem of the tiny leather skirt he'd had me wear. I'd been told I'd get to see my husband, that he'd be there at the party, that he'd take me home again when it was over. I was looking forward to it, to having my life back again.

Master parked outside the lobby. The valet who took the keys stopped to stare. I was embarrassed at how I looked: stiletto heels with kinky ankle straps, fishnet stockings, a micro mini-skirt and a tight-fitting corset with a big zipper down the front.

The skirt was too short to decently cover my stocking tops, and barely hid my panties. The corset squeezed my breasts, so they were spilling out the top. I imagined what people must think of me. I looked worse than slutty; I was dressed up like a sex-slave. He'd even put a collar on me; a black leather choker, with metal rings sewn in the sides.

I was, of course, embarrassed to be seen like that, and as we walked into the ballroom people turned and stared. I looked away, examining the paintings on the wall. My master took me by the arm and pulled me forward. He took me to the bar, where he ordered cocktails. I stood there nervously while I waited for my drink, and people milled around.

Master stopped a man and talked to him. He didn't introduce me. The man was tall and good-looking, but barely glanced at me. After a while a woman came up behind him, wearing a stunning evening dress. She put her hand on his shoulder and I noticed the diamond on her ring. She stood there looking at me an awkward moment before Master finally introduced me. She smiled thinly at me and squeezed her husband's shoulder. After she had gone Master told the other man, "She's going to be the entertainment. She's putting on a show tonight. Some of us are hoping that you'll come." The man glanced around and then he looked me over. He asked the number of the room.

This new humiliation was unendurable. I felt like a regular whore.

As the night wore on Master let his hands wander freely. He seemed to enjoy the way the men and women looked at me. I, of course, was mortified. To some of the men he spoke openly about me. To others he said I was his "friend," or didn't speak of me at all. Once, while we were talking to a young couple, he let his hand wander down my chest. He slipped his fingers below the corset and began playing with my breast. He blatantly pinched my nipple. They both watched me avidly. I looked down at the ground, but when I glanced up the woman gave me the slightest nervous smile. I blushed furiously, but something about the way she looked at me made my stomach tumble.

Greg would sometimes send me to the bar and encouraged me to drink. The bartender leered openly as I tottered back and forth, the heels and the alcohol making me unsteady on my feet. Later on I saw my husband. He was talking to the bartender, who glanced up at me and nodded in my direction. I quickly turned away, as I felt Master's hand sliding down below my waist. He cupped my butt and squeezed. I imagined my husband watching me and the thought made me weak inside. I was dreadfully ashamed, but there was a tingle in my belly.

Around eleven, the party began breaking up. My master told me to wait for half an hour, and then come up to the room. I drank straight shots of tequila while I waited. I found I had mixed feelings. I was nervous about what was about to happen. I wondered if I could do it. And I was thankful my servitude was almost over. But I admit, I was also curious, and a little bit excited.

When it was my time to go up, I was still very nervous, though my head was swimming from the booze. My master would have told whoever was there, I knew, what I'd agreed to do. I knew that I'd be humiliated. At the very least I'd soon be naked in front of a group of strangers.

The room number was 2211. The door was slightly ajar, and the conversation ended as I entered. It was dark, and there were large picture windows looking out over the city down below. There was a single dim light turned on, and people gathered around it. I could not make out their faces. I heard my master's voice, telling me to come forward, to come into the light. I saw they'd put a blanket on the floor for me.

There was music, and somebody turned the volume up. I nervously stepped forward, and Master told me I had to dance. I began to move my hips for them, looking around a little for my husband. I couldn't find him in the dark.

I swayed tentatively at first, but they began to clap for me, and I found it easier than I'd feared. With their encouragement I soon found myself dancing more and more provocatively. It was kind of sexy, being there in front of them, hearing their approval, and knowing they what I was doing. I found I did want to be sexy for them, for whoever was out there. The tequila shots were helping. I touched the zipper on my corset, and I pulled it down my chest.

I continued dancing for them, trying to be sexy. I slipped my hands along my bra straps, and along the fabric of the bra. I heard murmurs of approval, but I could tell they wanted more.

Suddenly I heard somebody come up behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, and then yanked my corset down my arms. Everybody cheered as it fell down to the floor.

"Take it off," I heard, "Take off her bra!" Another voice: "Let's see her tits!" I felt a little scared, but I touched the clasp that held the bra between my breasts. I felt the man slide his fingers under the straps that held it on in back. He slid the straps off my shoulders, and I undid the clasp. When my boobs were naked, they cheered again. I felt a sense of relief.

I touched myself for them. I held my breasts up in my hands.

The man behind me ran his hands down my sides. He held my waist while I continued dancing between his hands. I could feel my panties getting wet.

He found the zipper on my skirt, and began to pull it down. I felt his breath hot against my neck. My skirt slipped down around my hips. The zipper caught. I looked down and saw my panties, and the man's hands pulling on my skirt. I reached down and slipped my hands inside the waist of the skirt and wiggled out it. The crowd applauded me.

I continued to dance. I touched my breasts again, and felt my nipples stiffen. They can see how much I like this! I thought.

The thought embarrassed me, but didn't stop the feelings I was having.

I ran my hands over my body for them, touching my chest and thighs.

I was dancing in just my panties. My chest was heaving. I was breathing through an open mouth. My clothes were lying at my feet. I felt more and more a slut.

They started chanting: "Panties! Panties! Panties!" They wanted me to take them off, but I wouldn't do it yet. I kept dancing for them, wanting them to want me more. I ran my hands along my sides, and even between my legs. I felt the dampness there.

Then I felt the stranger's hands on my hips again. He grasped the fabric of my panties. I tried to catch his hands, but he jerked them before I could try to stop him. He was much too strong for me. My panties were stretched out around my thighs. I stood there a moment, panting and a little scared. They can do anything to me, I thought. There's nothing I can do to stop them.

The man slipped his hands along the outsides of my thighs and up my sides. When he brought them to my chest he caught my breasts in each hand and squeezed them. I inhaled deeply. I couldn't deny I was enjoying this.

Everyone was quiet, and then they began asking him to show them more. They chanted. "Show us her pussy! Show us her cunt!" There was a woman's voice in the crowd. I was astonished hear her chanting too.

The man took me by the shoulders and pulled me back, tripping me. I cried out as I fell. He lowered me to the ground.

I saw him for the first time then; he was a blond man with straight hair and handsome brown eyes. He looked very strong. I remembered seeming him at the party.

He knelt down beside me. He held my head in his hands. "Open your legs for them," he said. "They want to see you." I swallowed. I was scared. He stroked my cheek.

"We know you're enjoying this," he said. He stroked my nipple with his hand.

I looked at him.

"Do you want for us to punish you?" He began to squeeze me, hard.