Chapter 2: Samantha's Inner Slut Comes Out

When Samantha woke up the next day, she felt different but had no idea why. She had fleeting memories of dreams where she was forced to submit for the sexual pleasure of a powerful male figure but she could remember few details except that this man had dominated her completely.

In the shower, she noticed that her tummy and tush seemed a little different – she’d always kept herself in good shape, but it’s pretty unusual to find a woman in her fifties with six-pack abs and a fly girl bottom.

“Well, maybe those hours in the gym are finally paying off,” she mused as she toweled off. Looking in the mirror, she was impressed. Her overall muscle definition and tone seemed too good to be true. Her breasts still high and proud, her legs still in excellent shape.

“Sam, you are one hot chick,” she said to her reflection, laughing. Her dream forgotten, Samantha finished her morning ablutions and got ready to head to the office. One thing though was a little odd. Instead of pantyhose she had selected a garter belt and silk stocking set to wear today. Sam couldn’t explain that. Her puzzlement was fleeting, however, and she was soon out the door heading for the office.

Just about noon, as she was thinking of lunch, the telephone on her desk rang.

“This is Samantha. How may I help you?”

“Orangutan.”

Samantha stiffened in her comfortable office chair as the trigger word produced instant responses in her brain and body. Her nipples instantly tautened into hard points, her pussy began to juice heavily, and her whole body tingled with sexual excitement.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Close your office door.

Samantha’s mind was a mass of confusion. She was in full arousal. She desperately wanted to do anything the voice on the phone told her. A small part of her mind, however, was horrified and angry – Samantha was a powerful woman used to giving orders. Who was this voice on the phone? Why was she doing what he told her to do? What the hell was going on?

The door was quickly shut and Samantha resumed her seat.

“The door is closed.”

“Good. Now, listen to me very carefully, Samantha. I want you to stand up and remove all of your clothing except the stockings and garter belt. Put your clothes in your tote bag. Put on your coat and button it up to the neck. Leave your office and announce that you are going out for lunch and you do not know when you will be back. Get in your car and drive to the Pinecrest Motel located at 224 Oak Street. Go to room 208. Knock on the door. Before the door opens, remove your coat. Do you understand these instructions?”

“Yes, I understand,” Samantha said, but that part of her mind that was still under her control was screaming “no fucking way!”

Five minutes later, Samantha was in her car wearing nothing but a trench coat, garter belt, stockings, and 3-inch “fuck me” pumps, headed for the south side of town and the Pinecrest Motel. Her pussy was throbbing; the lips were swollen, her juices flowing freely. Her clit was stiff and it also felt larger than normal (it was, in fact, much larger than it had been – Jim liked women with prominent clits and had modified Samantha’s body to suit his fetish).

She resisted the urge to put her hand between her legs and masturbate. She had not been given permission to do this and for some reason that was important to her, but she did not know why. She had never needed permission from anyone to touch herself or give herself pleasure, so why should she start needing permission now?

Obeying most, if not all, traffic laws, Samantha made good time to the motel and soon found herself standing, trembling with fear and desire, in front of the door to room 208, which was on the back side of the motel. She knocked and then to her own amazement, actually took off her trench coat so that she was standing outside in full view of anyone who happened to be in a position to look, nearly naked – worse than naked – in hose, garter belt, and high heeled shoes.

After what seemed like an eternity the door opened.

“Come in, slutpuppy.”

She stepped across the threshold into the relative gloom of the motel room and heard the door close and lock behind her – there was also the rattle of the security chain being fastened.

“Close your eyes and kneel down on the floor.”

Samantha complied without speaking. She didn’t know what to say in any event. “Yes Master” seemed rather silly and gothic and she got the impression that she should just keep silent.

“Butt on your heels, slutpuppy. Hands behind your head. Spread your knees.”

These last commands burst out like the cracks of a whip. Samantha struggled to comply. This posture thrust her tits out and put her pussy on display. While one part of her mind was screaming that this was wrong the rest of her realized that she had never been more sexually alive and aroused in her life.

“Keep your eyes down.”

Samantha lowered her eyes. She still had not seen the man in the room with her, but his rich baritone sounded familiar. Given her state of sexual excitement, her higher-order thought processes were not functioning at peak efficiency. There was still some conflict between the parts of her personality that longed to be dominated sexually by a powerful male figure and the rapidly weakening point of view that this person, whoever he was, was not her husband, she was nearly naked in front of him – worse than naked in fact. This was wrong, what was left of her conscience screamed at her. It was, however, an unequal struggle, thanks to Master PC, and Samantha quickly surrendered. She moaned as her total submission suffused every nerve ending; every cell in her body. The rush of pleasure that this surrender produced was nearly orgasmic.

She heard footsteps as her captor(?) kidnapper(?) moved to face her. She didn’t look up.

Jim was ecstatic. Samantha radiated lust like a solar flare. He could smell her arousal. Her beautiful white flesh was deep pink with sexual heat from the tops of her breasts all the way to her cheeks. His rampant cock threatened to burst through the front of his slacks. He wanted to throw her on the bed and pound her pussy until she screamed in release. It took some serious willpower not to give in to his lust.

Samantha, meanwhile, was practically whimpering with need. She wanted to be taken; used like a common whore; forced to do things she’d never done – things she’d thought of but never dared ask her husband to do to her. She knew she was being controlled somehow and that was what made it possible for her to surrender. SHE wasn’t the one who would be responsible. There would be no guilt because she had been deprived of choice. At least that’s what she told herself. The truth of the matter was that Jim had used the Master PC program only to emphasize those aspects of Samantha’s personality already leaning toward submission and to weaken the more resistant part of her mind – the part that said “no way” when she fantasized about being a Gorean slave girl.

“Crawl to me. Keep your eyes down.”

Samantha crawled until she was at the feet of this mystery man. Jim looked down at the beautiful woman on the floor in front of him and nearly ejaculated on the spot. Her beauty and sweet submission made the semen boil in his balls and demanded release.

“Why are you here?”

“Because I am a slut.”

“Tell me how that makes you feel.”

“It makes my pussy wet and nipples hard. It makes me hot.”

“Good answer.”

The sound of a zipper broke the momentary silence of the room.

“Suck this cock, slut.”

“Mmmmm ... what a wonderful idea,” Samantha murmured.

Samantha rose up on her haunches and leaned forward to grasp the thick, hard cock protruding from Jim’s pants with her lips, careful not to look up into his face or use her hands. She moaned with pleasure as she felt the spongy flesh of his glans press against her tongue. The musky flavor and odor of his cock teased her olfactory receptors and added to the fire that was building in the pit of her belly.

Her whole world was the cock sliding deeper into her mouth. She loved to suck cock and this was a nice big one. Every bit of its texture and taste fed the fire of her lust; answered the call of her need; pushed her toward fulfillment of her deepest desires to serve and to be rendered without choice, sexually. She wanted to be taken; forced to do things; made to be a slut.

Samantha felt hands grip the sides of her head and pull her face forward with some force. The thick cock gained her gullet and then withdrew before plumbing her oral depths again. Her mouth was being used as a fuck sleeve, her throat repeatedly invaded making her gag. Long strings of saliva escaped from her lips and ran down her chin dripping onto and between her heaving breasts. A shining trail of spit reflected lewdly in the light of the room’s cheap fixtures.

Samantha was in heaven. Her inner slut was fully in the saddle now, all reservations forgotten. She was a willing partner in her sexual submission and she loved it. Her clit throbbed – its swollen red head protruding angrily from between her labia like a mini-penis. Pussy juice streamed down her thighs and dripped onto the worn carpet – probably not the first time that this had happened in this room.

For Jim’s part, he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of running his big dick in and out of the throat of the lovely woman at his feet. Her moaning, gurgling, gasping expressions were music to his ears. Samantha’s obvious arousal was a five-course feast for the senses. And the icing on the cake was that the moment he saw her in the doorway, naked, he knew who she was – who she really was. Samantha was someone he had met online a while back. Her photos were up on Flickr and she was a member of some of the same Flickr groups that he hung out in.

What’s more, they had chatted from time to time on YIM and she had shared some of her fantasies with him. He grinned as he realized that what he had done in ignorance was the actual fulfillment of one of those fantasies. He also knew from those chats that her husband wanted to share her with other men. That made it even better. He planned to fuck Samantha in her own living room in front of her husband. And he planned on having Samantha beg for this to happen. She would have absolutely no clue how he knew that this was another fantasy of hers. AND he thought of having her get together with Cheri for a threesome. Oh, the possibilities.

Jim pulled his cock out of Samantha’s sucking mouth. She moaned in protest but kept her eyes down and remained silent.

“Stay where you are, in that position, slut.”

Jim removed the rest of his clothing, taking his time, hanging up each item as he removed it. He looked at Samantha, kneeling there. Her eye makeup a mess; her chin covered in saliva which ran down the front of her body all the way to the fur at the top of her pussy mound. Her nipples were cherry red and stiff and the sex flush that began at the top of her breasts ran all the way up her neck to her cheeks. This wench was one horny mother.

He stood before her again, naked, his large cock protruding from beneath the folds of his belly – folds which would begin to disappear shortly, thanks to a better diet, workouts, and a little boost from Master PC.

“Resume sucking my cock, slut.”

He placed the head of his dick at her lips which opened instantly forming an “O” around the head and rapidly sucking it into the depths of her throat. Jim grabbed the sides of Samantha’s head once again and began to slowly skull fuck the retired military officer, making her squeal with pleasure.