Marline Becomes A Slut
Copyright© 2001 by Linda Jean
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Marline is the wife of a minister; she gets kidnapped, then blackmailed, and hooked on a sex drug. She fucks anyone, anything at anyplace she can. Toys, men, boys, and dogs.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Reluctant Blackmail Mind Control Drunk/Drugged BiSexual Slut Wife Sister Humiliation Gang Bang Group Sex Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Sex Toys Bestiality Cream Pie Exhibitionism Voyeurism
I looked at Jim and said "What time will you be back Sunday?" Jim turned and said to me, "I told you dear, I fly in about 6:30, and I'll be home in time for the evening service. I am still having Chuck do the evening service, just in case. Are you still going to Abilene to the women's thing?"
I said, "Sure, I think every community needs to band together to get that filthy pornography out of all our towns here in Texas. There are so many sex shops around here. It is a disgrace. Mary and Bobbie-Jo (church sisters) told me they now have over 8,000 signatures to give to the city counsel."
Jim looked at me and said, "Keep it up honey. With you heading up the other churches and the good people here, we'll get all those smut shops out of Austin real soon. Are you still planning on driving up to Abilene?"
I said, "Sure. It is only a 2-3 hour drive. I'll be checked in by 10:00 provided I get out of here before 6:30 and get through the city quickly." I went over and kissed Jim good-bye and said, "We'll talk after the service Sunday. I plan to be back for it myself." I asked, "Is Tommy doing the Sunday night service or are you? Oh, If I get back early enough, want me to pick you up at the airport?"
Jim said, "Yes, Tommy is going to take it, but as for picking me up, I'll leave my car in the long-term parking and come straight back here."
I said as I walked out, "OK dear, have fun and relax. I can't wait to get up there and get some new or better ideas"
I went out to my Voyager van, and was off. It took a good 15 minutes just to get out of town and on the 183 North. I was thinking how long it had been since Jim and I had spent time apart. It had been years. We started the church about 8 years ago out of our home bible study. Now the church is so big we have to have two morning services on Sunday and that is with the new building holding 4,000 souls. Life was good and I was leading the way to rid Austin of the filthy scum that wanted to have sex stores, sex shops and allowing the poor college students to get caught up in that sickness. They hid behind the laws and poisoned our community. I had to stop this.
I don't know how long I had been driving. I saw the 620 intersection just ahead. I could smell a sweetness in the air. It was so strong. I glanced down at the gauges and my heart stopped. I had two red lights glowing on the dash; one was the temp and the other the oil. I then realized the sweet smell was coming from my steaming engine. I looked in the mirror and saw all kinds of white smoke coming from my van. I remembered that time and time again Jim would tell me that if I ever saw one of the red lights come on I had to stop right then. Here I had two of them bright red.
I pulled over to the side and turned off the motor. I reached for my cell phone only to remember I turned it in for repair. I know the kind of people around here and they are all friendly. I looked at my watch and saw it was almost 7:30 and those on the road were most likely going to work. I just knew that someone would stop and offer help and I would not be delayed too much. I was right, by the time the motor stopped making the turning over sound like some kind of truck, a man stopped. I was standing outside with the hood up looking at all the steam coming out from my van.
He walked up to me. He was heavy set, had a clean-shaven face, wore glasses and said, "Hello Ma'am. I don't know much about cars but I think you need some help. Can I give you a lift?"
I am friendly however I am not stupid, I said, "No thank you. But you could call a tow truck for me if you have a cell phone."
"Sure thing Ma'am. I know a tow truck service real close. Are you a car club member?"
I said, "Yes" and he went back to his car and made a call. He came back to me and said a tow truck was on the way. He told me he would stay with me until the truck got there. I thanked him and we started with small talk.
It took about 20-25 minutes before the truck arrived. In that time I found out he owned a small diner/coffee shop just down the road along with a small motel. I told him who I was and where I was going and why. He agreed with me that something needed to be done in Austin. He had seen exactly what I was talking about and what I was fighting.
I found out that the tow truck was coming from the nearest service station that, lucky for me, was also an auto repair shop. His Brother owned it and he promised that he would make sure that Steve, his brother, would not over-charge me.
He asked if I wanted to call my husband. I told him I couldn't. That he flew out this morning, also for the weekend. He suggested that I wait to find out the problem, that it could be a simple one and as long as I had not damaged the motor, I may still make it to my meeting today.
The tow truck arrived and the nice man that was helping me left. Funny thing, all the time we talked he never told me his name. Steve looked at it and said, "Well ma'am, it looks like your water pump is frozen. It won't turn and your fan belt is gone. If you want, I can tow you to the shop, replace it and you can be on your way. It will most likely cost $48.00, provided you turned off the motor in time. Or if you want I could tow you back to Austin. It is only about 35 miles away. I would have to charge you $50.00 plus mileage."
I asked him, "Can you fix it today?"
He said, "Sure, no problem. I'll run over to Burnet. It's not even 8:00 yet. I'll have you be back on the road by 11:30, easy.
I said, "Well, let's fix it. I want to get to Abilene by 4:00."
Steve hooked up my van and I rode with him in his truck to the garage. He told me his brother Phil instructed him to be extra nice on his pricing and that for most people he would charge about $150.00.
I thanked him and as we pulled into the station I asked him if I could use his phone. I thought I should call my office to let the hotel know I would be arriving late. Steve pointed me to the diner and said, "We all use the diner phone. Why not get some breakfast and I'll be real fast with this here van of yours?"
I walked over to the coffee shop and looked around. Steve was right. It was small but clean and what a perfect place. I said a little prayer and thanked God that Steve stopped to help me when he did.
I walked over to the pay phone and using my calling card, dialed my husband's office. A woman came on the line (I assumed the telephone operator) she said that due to an accident, the lines were down and should be back working in about an hour. I looked at my watch and it was 8:15.
I hung up the phone and sat down at a nice clean table. This lovely young waitress came up to me and said, "Mornin' Ma-am. Care to order?"
I said, "Sure. I'll be here for a while. My car is being worked on next door, so no hurry. I'll have two eggs, toast, coffee and orange juice."
She smiled and said, "Sure thing" and walked to the kitchen. A minute or two later she was back with the coffee.
I sat there sipping the coffee and looking out the window.
The next thing I remember is I was dreaming of a very sexual, very erotic, very nasty dream. I was dreaming. I knew I was dreaming and I was with two men. My dream was like nothing I had ever even thought of before in my 33 years of life.
What amazed me was, even though I knew this was a dream, I could feel myself liking it more than when I had sex with Jim -- much, much more. I had a man in me and I was giving oral sex to another. I felt myself close to a climax and as I was ready to go over the top, so to speak, I heard a loud truck horn blast away. I knew my train of thought was broken and I was going to wake up.
I laid there a minute trying to think of where I was? Did I make it to Abilene? Was I in my hotel room? Why were my legs sore? Why was my bottom sore? Why was my butt hole sore? Why did it smell like sperm? How did I get here -- wherever it was that I was at?
I laid on my back, eyes closed trying to remember all of this. The only thing I could remember was my car, the diner and the last thing -- the coffee. I felt very hungry and I could hear rain outside my room. I remember it being sunny and no rain was forecast until Sunday. I knew I would be driving in it back to Austin from Abilene.
I opened my eyes and it was light. I had to pee in the worst way. I also realized I was wearing stockings and a garter belt. I got out of bed and looked at what I had on. The stockings were red and on the inside of them I had crust of something.
I looked around and saw the bathroom. I went in, sat down and when I did gobs and gobs of gooey stuff came out of me. I could hear it plop in the water. As I let my bladder go, my mind was racing. I started to cry. I could not remember where I was, why stuff was coming from my body like this and why my legs were so sore.
I wiped myself and as much as I did not want to, I had to smell some of this stuff oozing out of my vagina. I smelled it and my stomach turned. It looked and smelled just like Jim's sperm.
Even after all that had dropped from me while I sat there, I still had a big gob of it on the paper after I wiped myself. I knew I had somehow been raped -- taken against my will. I had to call the police.
I got up and went in the room to look for the phone. I saw the bed. It was full of sperm stains and there were Polaroid pictures all over it.
My stomach was turning as I walked over to them, I knew I did not want to look at them, and yet I knew I had to. I could tell as I walked closer they were the kind of pictures that I hated -- the kind my committee and I were fighting to rid our cities and towns from. They were porno.
The closer I got the sicker I became. All the pictures were of one woman and her face was mine.
I reached down and picked up one. I was kneeling and I was sucking a black man with a huge penis. I felt myself starting to throw up and I ran to the bathroom. I vomited and vomited until I could not get sick anymore.
I went back inside the room and gathered all the pictures. I sat down as I looked at them. In every one you could only see my face, no one else.
I looked close for some sign of glassy eyes, anything to give me an idea what happened. What I saw was total bliss or total lust. I saw myself straddling a man and he had a big penis, which I completely hid inside of me. Then another and another, black men, white men and Mexican men.
There were pictures of me with two men then three men. I saw pictures of men with their clothes on having sex with me and pictures of a woman using something strapped to her hips with a huge fake penis attached having sex with me.
She used a big fat beige colored penis; a big fat brown colored one and a big fat black one. I could not see her face but by her red, long hair I knew it was that waitress from the diner.
My face was clearly shown, and it was of pure lust and pleasure. I had a very big smile on my face and I could tell from the pictures I was not forced into this sick thing being done to me. I then found more pictures of her, only this time I had my face in between her legs and then I had the harness on me as I was using the three big fat fake penises in her in her. As well as sucking one as I did her.
I cried and cried as I sat there looking at those filthy pictures. I counted 52 pictures of those filthy things.
I heard the phone ring and I did not say a word as I picked it up. I was sobbing too much to talk. A woman's voice said, "Turn the TV on, and watch it Mrs. Johnson."
As if in a trance, I walked to the TV and turned it on.
A big man named Phil appeared on the screen. He was sitting at a desk and started to speak, talking to me. "Well, Mrs. Johnson by now you have found the pictures and have had a good cry. You must be full of questions and I will answer them all. First of all, I need to thank you for your timely breakdown. If I had not come along when I did, none of this would have been possible. Before you go crying rape or kidnapping or anything like that, you better think again. The only proof anyone will ever find around here are pictures like you have on the bed right now and of course the 43 different sex videos you made these last 2 days. That's right miss high and mighty, you have been making porno movies ever since 9:00 last Friday morning and not in any one of them were you forced to do anything you did not want to do. The telephone is on right now. Feel free to call the police. Call your husband. Call anyone you desire. However, if you are as smart as I think you are, you may wish to hear me out first.
First off, Marline, I am not going to blackmail you. I don't need your money. I am not going to force you into coming back here and fucking the truck drivers or myself again. I won't kick you out of bed, but once you leave, you will never be required to return, unless you have the desire to come back and play. I have to tell you baby, you suck one hell of a cock and that asshole of your is wild. No, Marline, all those videotapes and pictures we made are my insurance. The first time I ever see you leading, setting up or supporting another anti-porn rally or meeting, your nasty, filthy disgusting videos will be released. I have to tell you Mrs. Johnson, you made some videos yesterday that even got an old porno guy like myself blushing and hard as hell. I don't want to spoil your surprise. I'll let them speak for themselves."
I sat there - numb. I could not move. I was watching his lips move and hearing everything he said. Tears were running down my face. I could not believe I had fell right into the den of Satan himself.
"It is now Sunday morning," he said. "You will be out of here by 5:30 just in time to get back to join your husband for the evening services at your church just as you planned. The only difference is instead of going back to Austin with all those ideas on how to close our sex shops down, you are going to be working for us behind the scenes killing this campaign you started and leave us all alone. Oh and of course, good old Jim when he fucks you tonight will most likely notice a huge difference.
First of all he should notice the size of your pussy; how big it has gotten. With all the fucking that you have done these last two days, that cunt of yours has been stretched 4-5 times the size it was when you first got here. And most of all, he is going to notice how hot you are for his cock. Shit, if I did my plan right, that poor husband of yours is going to be all worn out and you, my dear, will not even be close to wanting to him to stop.
I can see you now -- he rolls off of you and you have to get up and go to the bathroom to fuck yourself three or four more times. Oh don't worry Marline; I am going to send you home with your three favorite rubber cocks; the ones that you fell in love with these past 2 days. Knowing your sexual appetite, I am sure you are going to need them from now on.
You are still at my truck stop. Well, it really is not a truck stop exactly; it is more like a cock stop. The shop and diner are a support for the real business here. You see Marline; I have a booming whorehouse. Oh don't worry my dear, your van is fixed and there is no charge.
You see Marline, all the truckers stop here to get their cocks serviced by my girls. I have 8 girls working a shift -- three shifts a day and you sort of "pinch hit," so to speak. I must say you where a hit. Well, to be totally honest with you, we told the boys you were doing this for the kicks and they did not have to pay the normal $25.00 for 5 minutes. They were told you were here doing it only for the sex and they could leave tips. Needless to say, I suggested they leave a quarter. After all, a cunt like you, as hot as you, should really have paid them.
Well needless to say, all the boys took their time and you had a line at your door for two days. Oh sure, I lost a hell of a lot of money but I have a feeling I am going to reap much more than money from your little stay here. Anyway Marline, you will find all your tips in the top drawer of the nightstand next to the bed. Take it all. You sure earned it, to say the least.
Yes, Mrs. Johnson you have been fucking strange truck drivers for two days straight and do you know what is so exciting about it? You have craved every one of them that fucked you. Now stop your sniffling and watch what you have been doing non-stop all day Friday, Saturday, and Saturday night and what you are going to be doing this afternoon before you go home. That is right. Unless you want the videos we now have to be sent out, you will continue being the cunt you have been the last two days. Only today you will remember everything you do.
I am going to play them for you. That way you will know how this all started, and how you became the star attraction on my 40 new videos. I call them, "Mrs. Marline Johnson Can't Get Enough -- 1 through 40."
Don't you like my title selection? I like the ring it sends out. Now sit there and watch, bitch."
The screen changed and I saw myself walk into the diner. I watched as I went to the payphone and then sit down in the booth. The waitress took my order and brought back my coffee. I sat there looking at the trucks driving by and finished half of my coffee. I noticed that I sort of put my head down and the waitress came over and I heard her ask me if I was all right.
I told her I felt woozy and she told me to come with her, to lay my head down in the ladies room. I got up and went with her out the door; she had to help me walk. Then the picture changed and I was being helped into this room I was now in. She laid me on the bed and comforted me. She told me to lie on my tummy, that I might feel better. I rolled over and she left.
I could see my eyes closed and she came back carrying a syringe and she walked up to me, lifted the back of my straw dress, pulled down my white panties and injected me.
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