Mrs Swanson
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2019 by mattwatt

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A tour de force that I've been working on for a while. Shows a raft of difficulties but also strength and love shining through. Enjoy

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Coercion   Lesbian   FemaleDom   Rough  

His voice sounded confident on the phone: “Look, whore,” he said to her. I want you to free up your night. Meet me at the rialto at 8 PM; tell the usher, Chet, that you’re Pam and would like to sit in the balcony. Do you have all that?”

“Yes,” she stammered, “yes, sir.”

She was struck afterwards about how compliant she was, how compliant she’d gradually gotten in the days, since the original encounter. There was no thought in her mind about it; it was only and all this thing that was happening and that Roger was directing. This also caused her normal round of conscience. The struggle left her determined to stop it, the whole thing, that evening at the theater. ‘Enough dirty things,” she thought, and sighed, ‘Enough.’

She showed up at the theater exactly when she was supposed to. The usher was in the theater and she smilingly introduced herself as Pam, asking if she could use the balcony. He gave her a big grin, as he allowed her to go alone to the balcony.

Roger was waiting. “Hi, slut,” he began. She said to him in a soft voice, knowing it was almost her last plea.

“Please, can’t you call me Kristen?”

“Don’t like the name?” he said with a laugh.

“No” was her whispered answer, and even then she just wasn’t sure, for something about the name calling did appeal to her. She knew that this was a bad start and decided to back off.

“Tell you what then; you get to choose. I’ll call you slut, or cock sucker, which is it to be?”

She sighed knowing that this was already beginning to turn her on. Where in hell did it come from this dark desire to be treated this way, and what way would it continue to grow and show itself.

“Hey,” he almost shouted, “I’m talking to you.”

“Slut” she quickly said. She hurried on because she knew it would be difficult to do what she knew she had to do. Taking a deep breath she said to him:

“Look this has finally got to stop. All this dirty stuff. I just can’t continue to do it. You keep forcing me to...” Roger slapped her across the face.

She gasped audibly, looked around wildly and noting with chagrin that the usher, that Chet, was watching their little balcony scene.

Roger plunged on: “Shut the fuck up, you pig!” She was quiet immediately, holding her hand over her cheek that stung. “Shut up and listen to me or you’ll get worse than that.” Reluctantly she acknowledged to herself that his kind of talk was turning her on. “Forcing? Forcing?” he said with his face an inch from hers. “You paraded almost naked in front of me; you did it constantly. Big turn on! Big tease! There is no forcing here!” He was absolutely in her face, as he said this.

Her response surprised both of them: she simply leaned in and kissed him; kissed with mouth open and tongue active, using her teeth, lips and spit and capturing his. Sucking on his tongue as though it were a cock and the last cock available. He smiled, when they broke it off. She noted that Chet was still watching.

“More like it, cunt!” he said to her. The name thrilled her, and she saw no reason not to admit it.

She whispered to him, as though Chet might overhear her admission, “It turns me on so, when you call me those dirty names.”

“I know,” was his answer. “You do know, slut, what this is about, don’t you?”

 
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