Chapter 11

My wife didn’t challenge me when I told her I might take her downtown and turn her out as a whore. She smiled at me instead. It wasn’t a scared smile like she didn’t believe me or as if daring me to test her willingness to obey me. It was the smile of someone pleased to have the responsibility of decision making taken out of her hands while getting something she’d quickly come to crave. Sex.

I didn’t doubt she’d stand on a street corner with a sign around her neck but that if I actually did it, she’d be constantly freaking out at the thought someone she knew might recognize her. That caused me pause. I still had her job to keep in mind, so it would be a valid worry. Still, no one on staff at the school would be able to picture the slut they saw as the prim and proper guidance counselor, surely?

I made her wait to find out if I was joking or not and I made her wait in humiliated silence - a silence she initiated. We drove away from the house and I had Karen ride the entire way in the nude while holding her pussy flaps open. It wasn’t such a big deal to me but to her it absolutely was.

You see, the difference between this ride and the ride home from the reunion was that Karen had to leave her underwear in the house while I pulled the Mustang out of the garage. The children were all out doing their thing so I wasn’t worried about them seeing. I ordered her to leave her borrowed bra and panties, the last vestiges of her modesty, on the couch - and come out the front door completely naked before climbing into the car.

Karen, the uppity neighbor who had to have a professional come to weed the garden and trim the walk to perfection whether needed or not, was made to sneak out her own front door and be naked from there to the car - I’d backed it all the way down our driveway too. When she climbed in, she tried to politely ask me to never again make her do that outside home again, where the neighbors could see. My response was to make her exit the car and do twenty jumping jacks next to the front bumper.

Karen was obviously suffering mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, I didn’t need to threaten her. She could see that I would have dragged her out of the car by her hair if I’d needed to and she was past needing threats to be made to do something she didn’t want to. On the other hand, she really didn’t WANT to. She was just about in tears as she climbed back out of the car in our driveway in full daylight. We live on a pretty quiet street and there was no traffic passing but there could have been. It wouldn’t have made a difference to me.

So Karen got out, stood next to the front fender as I’d ordered, and quickly began her jumping jacks. The first two were conservative. The rest were great! Her tits looked fantastic jumping around, defying gravity as they bounced up and down, side to side. I did have to yell at her from inside the car after the first two, urging her to spread her legs more and to jump higher when she did each. After she’d counted out twenty five, she stood there pleading with her eyes for me to allow her back into the car. I made her wait a few heartbeats before I nodded.

She was halfway into the car when a nearby lawnmower cranked up. Neither of us could see who’d started their lawnmower nor whether the owner had witnessed Karen’s humiliation but both of us knew she may have had an audience.

When she shakily pinched her piss flaps and drew them apart, it was clear she was soaked. It was like watching an oyster being opened with strands of girl goo sticking to each flap. Knowing what I was seeing only made Karen even more embarrassed, if that were possible. She seemed mortified.

As a result, Karen rode in the passenger seat silently reflecting on what requests are suitable and what aren’t. Her shaking stopped but her juices didn’t.

She finally spoke as we were pulling up at our destination. I reached into the backseat and scooped up a top and skirt I’d had her put there.

“Thank you Master. For the clothes but for being you, too. Without you I wouldn’t have ... no, I couldn’t have come out of the house naked, much less done jumping jacks for your amusement and to punish me for trying to control you. And I’m sorry for being mad at you too. You did everything right. I was a bitch. You make the rules and I follow them. It’s what I want and I want it more each day rather than less. So thank you from the bottom of my heart, Master,” Karen said with a voice full of emotion that I wondered if she’d start crying happy tears.

I allowed Karen to get dressed in the car and we went into the store I’d chosen. I changed my mind after briefly talking to the cashier at the shirt printing shop I’d selected near downtown. I quickly discovered that I could not in fact get a tee shirt printed to my specifications. The woman flat refused! So instead, I took Karen back to the car and I got on the freeway. I took her to a flea market on the poor side of town. By the time we arrived at the second stop, Karen was VERY apologetic and repentant because of how our first stop had gone. Karen IS pretty smart. Have I ever said that?

I didn’t care that people at the flea market saw my wife naked when we parked. A Mexican family climbed out of a Dodge Durango next to us just as we pulled up. The father and sons all gawked at Honey’s tits through the windshield until I finally allowed her to put a flimsy top on. The mom and her daughters looked at Karen with disbelieving grins of total shock before craning their necks looking for what I assumed to be hidden cameras.

Once Honey stepped out of my car wearing a skimpy little skirt with more cleavage than cover, she looked just like the Mexican women from the SUV next to us. They youngest one was wearing hot pants with glitter across the butt that spelled out the word, ‘Juicy’. I knew my wife would fit in perfectly with the slutty women that frequented this flea market.

So in town there are shops that won’t put whatever you want on a tee shirt yet I’ve seen some pretty risqué tee shirts. They had to come from somewhere, right? Within two minutes I saw a woman Honey’s mother’s age at the flea market proudly wearing a, “Trump can grab MY pussy 2020” T-shirt with a picture of the president happily reaching down to the front hem of the woman’s shirt as if he were grabbing her crotch. I saw another girl younger than Claire with a shirt that said “fuck this” on it. I kind of hoped it referred to some sort of protest but when she passed me, the back said, “sucker” on it.

We stopped at the first stall that sold custom shirts. “Will you make a tee shirt that offers free blowjobs?” I made my wife ask the vendor.

“No need, I’ve got three versions of it over there,” he pointed to some tee shirts with dirty messages on them. One of the shirts was clearly intended for a younger girl and it displayed two Tootsie Pops over the boob area with the caption “Lick - don’t bite”. The other two made it very clear that the women wearing the shirt was down to give head if anyone asked her. They may have been gag gifts or there may have been women like Karen that shopped there. I really didn’t give a fuck - I was just pleased I could get what I wanted!

“Remember the piggy bank from that gas station, Honey? This time you don’t have a dime. I want you in one of those tee shirts before we leave.”

“Master? What if he won’t agree? How far do I have to go?” She whispered in my direction.

I held my hands apart as if saying she had better not fail. I knew she could be pretty persuasive. “Then don’t fail, Honey. It looks like your lucky day anyway. He looks okay too. Imagine if he’d been old and fat and you had to make the deal?”

I moved to the corner and pretended to look at some of the more generic shirts for sale, leaving my wife in her slutty outfit to do her thing.

“Could we all m ... come to an arrangement for a shirt, Sir?” I heard her ask the vendor.

“Sure. Buy ten, get one free!” The guy said as if offering her a deal of a lifetime.

“No, I mean what would it take to let me walk out of here with one of those shirts, Sir?” She asked.

“Just $5. No tax, and we’re the cheapest shirts you’ll find here. Even the thrift stall at the other end can’t undersell us!” He proudly proclaimed.

“Um ... I mean other than actual money, Sir,” Honey said, flipping the shirt she was wearing as if it was getting really hot inside the stall. She knew she was flashing the guy a little nipple while she did it. That upset me. She was doing exactly what women did to get their way.

I couldn’t help myself. I strode over and intervened. “She’s offering you a blowjob for a shirt, buddy!” I said in exasperation, thinking the guy was a little dense.

“Well why didn’t she say so then? Shit. No. See that hot chick over there?” He asked, pointing to an admittedly very attractive woman hanging shirts high up using a pole outside the stall - high up where they couldn’t easily be stolen.

“She’s my wife and she gives better head than anyone. I don’t need no housewife head when I got THAT,” he grinned. “Hey Gina! C’mere,” he hollered at his wife. “Wait till you see the lips on my bitch,” he loudly boasted. “For $50 she’ll rock YOUR world in the bathroom if you’re interested?” He said to me slightly more quietly, grinning from ear to ear.

“What, Vinnie? I’m nearly done here!” Gina complained but came over anyway.

“Slut wants to trade a bj for a shirt but I offered one for her man from you for $50 instead. That okay with you?” He asked his wife.

This was not working out at all how I’d expected! Before Gina could answer, Honey spoke up.

“Or you could print your stall name on the back and it’d be cheap advertising for you, if you want, Sir?” Honey said helpfully, while blushing clear to her hairline.

“Gina looked at me and her eyes lit up a little. “Twenty five bucks and I’ll throw in a shirt, too?” She counter offered, as she reached out and grasped my bicep. Then she made a guttural sound of appreciation at the back of her throat.

“Your wife is a hottie,” I agreed. “Give me the shirt and no free advertising - and make it $5, like I offered for my wife to suck YOUR dick? A little strange is still a little strange, buddy. I happen to think Honey’s got a great set of pipes too. She can suck the chrome off a Chevy bumper,” I assured him. “But your wife looks like she has talents too,” I admitted.

The guy didn’t take long to take another look at Karen as if reevaluating her suggestion. I think he may have been a little upset at his own wife’s suggestion too. I could see the gears grinding slowly in his head even though the obvious choice of declining any sort of deal seemed to be missing from his equation. Allow me to translate the thoughts most likely running through his head. ‘I can get head from a hot housewife and free advertising, or my Gina sells a bj for a fraction of what I quoted and I lose free advertising and a bj’. It seemed to take him a minute to put things together.

“I gotta stay with the register. Fuck off and finish hanging them damn shirts, Gina. I got me a bj coming. On yer knees, slut!” He instructed his wife and Honey as if used to directing women.

“Vinnie!” Gina squealed in protest.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch! I saw you creaming over this guy. Shouldn’t have dissed me! Fucking undercutting your own fucking husband? Just wait till we’re done here tonight. We gonna have words! Now get them damn shirts hung up!”

Gina stamped her foot but obediently spun on her heel and harrumphed out of the little stall.

Honey hadn’t moved. She was waiting on me to give her the instruction to begin. I just knew that, even though she’d done nothing more than look at me.

“That dick isn’t going to suck itself, Honey,” I gestured for her to get busy. It was something I had to remember to talk to her about later, too. When I gave her a task and told her to do whatever she needed to, to achieve her goal, I shouldn’t need to prompt her further. It was the equivalent of dilly dallying.

Vinnie didn’t seem to care he was in a booth at a busy flea market. He allowed Honey just enough time to free his dick and then used her hair to pull her head onto his cock. I don’t even know if he was hard. I mean even though I was watching, I just didn’t see it, so it wasn’t like his dick was ever on display. It was completely concealed in Honey’s mouth and Vinnie just held it there for a few seconds. It was in those few seconds that I realized Vinnie wasn’t slow in some ways.

Honey started to hum and suck on him. Mere seconds later, she was making the glug-glug sounds she makes when a cock is opening her throat and a minute after that, he was groaning and she was swallowing. He only managed a single, ‘daaaamnnnnn’ before he came down Honey’s throat.

Honey cleared her throat while his cock was still in her mouth and she quickly cleaned the last drops of his cum before she lifted her head off him. I finally got a glimpse of his dick before she tucked him away again. For a well-built guy, his dick was surprisingly small. Maybe four inches and quickly retreating back to its flaccid state. He’d struck me as an overconfident jock who could treat a woman as he did because he knew he had a big cock. See, I learn something new every day too!

Just in case you’re wondering what possessed me to want to see a guy’s junk? I had to, really. I’d taken the opportunity to use Karen’s phone to snap the daily picture I’d promised my new friend - I’d sent it to Philbert before Honey even got Vinnie zipped back up. A few minutes later, Honey was handing me her flimsy top and squeezing into a tee shirt a few sizes too small.

On the front of the tee shirt were the large words, ‘Protein Fanatic’ situated so each word would be curved over a smaller girl’s boobs, followed in much smaller words that would follow the contours of an underwire bra, ‘show me the white stuff’. In even smaller words under that, ‘guzzler’ printed in a weird font followed by the last line. It simply said, ‘donations here,’ but you had to really focus to be able to read the weird text. A person with regular vision would almost have to be standing within a foot of Karen to be able to read the whole thing, but it’d do. I almost completely missed the fact that from a distance, all you’d be able to clearly see on the black tee shirt would be clear white lines forming the shape of an erect dick and balls pointed towards Honey’s cunt!

Because the shirt was too small, it was stretched tightly over her braless fun bags and the words were even harder to read but the picture was clear as day.

As we left, Gina caught my arm again and whispered, “if you change your mind, I’ll still give you the $5 deal. There’s an empty booth 3 doors down. If the closed sign is upside down, it’s occupied. Take the sign in with you and I’ll cum right away, capisce?”

I just smiled and nodded that I’d understood. I couldn’t believe I was having so much luck today! We’d just found ‘our spot’ for Karen’s next challenge. I ducked into the empty stall pulling Honey in with me just as Karen’s cellphone chirped.

I looked around the empty stall and all there was, was an old, stained single mattress on the dirt floor. It looked like it had seen a lot of use, too. Then I focused on Karen’s phone. It was a message from Philbert. I’d included a caption to the picture I’d sent. ‘Giving out free bj’s today’.

Philbert had replied, ‘put me down 412’

I looked at the message blankly. I had no idea what four hundred and twelve meant at first. It took a moment to realize it was text speak for, ‘for one too’. Put me down for a free blowjob too! Philbert was funny guy in a deviant sort of way. It was a shame he was nearly four hundred miles away. Then the phone chirped again.

‘Cumming to town 2day can ICU

Philbert was coming to town? Great! I shared the news with Karen when I told her to strip for an inspection. The inspection was to be a technicality more than anything else. Getting her naked and inspecting her like livestock was really aimed at getting her into the right mindset. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t thorough, of course.

Honey had looked worried about being caught in the stall naked but had done as she’d been told without hesitation and had her butt plug clenched between her teeth. I had four fingers in her pussy when the canvass flap protecting our activity from outside, moved. A teen girl popped into the stall followed by a guy a few years older than her.

“¡Oye! ¡El cartel no está al revés, amigo!” The guy said, before repeating himself in English. “You didn’t turn the sign upside down!” It was really like the guy was talking to Honey and I wasn’t there.

The guy’s eyes bulged at what he was seeing and he licked his lips as he mentally photographed my wife. I didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He’d absolutely caught me flat-footed.

“Hey, ¡Mírame! Look at me! Not that old skank! Big boobs aren’t everything, Jose’!”

“Sorry, buddy,” I apologized. “My bad,” I said as I pulled my fingers out of Honey’s cunt and used the lubrication on them to make it easier to slip a couple of fingers into her ass. I was not going to stop just because we had an audience. “We’re about done here. Do you want this slut to join you?” I grinned at the still-staring guy.

The girl elbowed him in the ribs angrily then spoke for him. “No! We only have a few minutes! But I’m not going to fuck with an audience, so go!” The girl waved her hands at us as if pushing us away. “Next time turn the sign, si?” She demanded.

I shrugged and stood up, telling Honey she could get dressed. The female had a point. I’d screwed up. I realized this empty stall must be a well-known secret and Honey couldn’t monopolize it. She’d have to do her thing behind the dumpsters out back when she gave her bj’s, but she definitely wasn’t off the hook for the task at hand. She needed her protein!

I’d purchased a box of ten condoms for Honey to fill before we would head home and her shirt made it ridiculously easy for her to fill her quota. It seemed that guys weren’t shy about commenting when they saw a tee shirt on a hot chick that basically suggested the wearer would give free bj’s. It was quickly evident that many guys would quickly separate themselves from their wife or girlfriend in order to circle back to Honey and ask if she was serious.