A Chance to Advance
Copyright© 2008 by Vulgus
Chapter 7
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Childhood sweethearts marry and after college the husband gets his dream job. He is soon offered a big promotion and a huge increase in salary. There is a catch. His wife must make herself available to the company executives. This was originally written as a story, a sequel and two standalone stories that somehow ended up as part of the original story. They have all been combined here.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic NonConsensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Slut Wife Wife Watching MaleDom Light Bond Swinging Gang Bang Group Sex First Oral Sex Anal Sex Exhibitionism
I heard Mr. Riggs pull up at about ten before eight. I was on the way to the door when the bell rang. Mr. Riggs had sent his driver to the door to fetch me. I will give the driver credit. His eyes flicked down over my dress for a second. He wasn’t as nonchalant about it as Matt was last night. But he tried very hard to act as though I’m not nearly naked. He politely invited me to join Mr. Riggs in the car. I locked the door and followed him.
He held the car door for me and I stepped inside. Before my eyes could even adjust to the dim light in the car Mr. Riggs reached out and pulled me down onto the seat beside him. He pushed me forward, pulled my arms behind my back and put handcuffs on my wrists. Only after my hands were restrained behind me did he look me over and tell me my outfit was perfect.
Meanwhile, I was looking at the two strangers sitting on one of the side benches staring at me.
Mr. Riggs smiled that arrogant smile of his and exclaimed, “Didn’t I tell you the slut was hot?”
The driver got behind the wheel and we took off. As soon as the car was moving, Mr. Riggs roughly pushed me out of my seat and over in the direction of the two strangers whom he invited to check me out closer.
I nearly broke my neck as I stumbled and fell onto the men’s laps. Their hands were all over me instantly. The smell of alcohol permeated the air in the limo. All three men were already pretty well loosened up.
My dress was soon bunched up around my waist and my little thong pulled out of the way. Both men began groping me in an often painful manner. For the most part I bit my lip and suffered the abuse while trying very hard not to let them know how much they were hurting me. In retrospect I guess that was pretty stupid. But I cried out several times when they hurt me more than I could handle in silence. They ignored my cries. But it isn’t that they didn’t care. I quickly came to realize that hurting me is the plan and they were enjoying it.
Every now and then I was able to catch a glimpse of Mr. Riggs as he sat there watching his friends hurting me. He seemed to be enjoying the show but I got the impression he was disappointed when I didn’t struggle and plead for mercy. I want to. I want the pain to stop. I want them to take it easy on me but I don’t want Mr. Riggs to think I’m challenging his authority over me.
They might have gone easier on me if I’d been a little less stoic, but I doubt it and I was determined to be strong. I made up my mind I’m not going to start crying for him. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I can be so stupid sometimes!
After several minutes of rough, painful mauling, I was pushed to the soft carpet on my knees. One of the men pulled out his cock, grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled my head into his lap and started face fucking me. I didn’t struggle but he was very violent and for just a moment I thought this must be very much like what it’s like to be raped for real. Looking back on it later I would finally come to realize I had been raped for real. I thought I had some pretty rough sexual experiences last night at that kinky club up in the mountains. Compared to the man raping my throat at the moment those men at the club were doing nothing more than making sweet, gentle love to me.
The violent oral rape finally brought tears to my eyes. It didn’t help that through my tears I can see that the other man has his cock out. He’s ready and waiting impatiently for his turn.
I sucked them both off. Well, no. That isn’t true. My hands remained cuffed behind me and I had no control over what was happening to me. They controlled my movements with handfuls of my hair; slamming my mouth down onto their hard cocks until they shot their slimy loads down my throat while I prayed they’d release me in time to take a breath before I passed out. Despite the fact that both men ejaculated down my throat it was all done with such violence that I’m not certain what they did to me can be classified as a sex act.
Both men held me down over their cocks after they came until I was just about to pass out. I guess this isn’t the first time they’ve done this to a woman. They knew what they were doing. Each time they did it they let me go at the last possible second and I was able to sit up and gasp for air, sucking life giving oxygen into my starving lungs while they laughed and joked about my cocksucking skills.
The limo came to a stop. The driver got out and opened the door for us. Before we got out, Mr. Riggs said, “You might as well come over here and take the edge off before we get started.”
I hobbled over to him on my knees and I sucked him off with the door wide open and the driver standing there watching. If you haven’t tried it, I have to tell you, sucking a guy off when your hands are handcuffed behind your back is a lot harder than when you have the use of your hands.
Mr. Riggs came in my mouth but it took him a while. By the time he finally filled my mouth with cum my back was killing me. He leered at me with that degrading, arrogant expression on his face while he watched me swallow. Only then did he get out of the car and put his cock away. When he was presentable he reached in and pulled me out. I looked around and saw where we are. We’re standing in front of an adult bookstore. I didn’t have time to be anxious about that yet. My immediate concern is that my dress is still bunched up around my waist.
Mr. Riggs sounded so very bored when he asked the driver to straighten my dress out. The driver was all too happy to comply with that order. He did it slowly and carefully and it involved a lot of touching. Mr. Riggs’ two friends got out and watched in obvious amusement. When I was more or less presentable again I was escorted into the bookstore.
It’s a surprisingly large store. The laws of physics being what they are I know it isn’t possible. But it looks much larger on the inside than it does on the outside. All eyes seemed to be on me as I was led around by Mr. Riggs and his friends. We spent the first few minutes looking at dirty books, movies and sex toys. Some of those toys looked pretty interesting! I never realized there’s such a wide variety of vibrators!
At first the other customers in the store just watched us discreetly from a distance. But Mr. Riggs and his friends were constantly touching me, casually exposing various parts of my body, insulting me loudly enough for everyone to hear and putting me down as though I’m the biggest slut on the planet. They called me nasty names and talked about what a whore I am. They never used my name. If they addressed me at all it was either slut or bitch or cunt. Soon, men started gathering around to watch and listen. One of the men who had come closer to enjoy the show asked, “Is this your little sex toy? She’s pretty damn hot!”
Mr. Riggs answered disdainfully, “Actually, the dumb cunt is married to one of my employees. Most of the time she’s just a happy little housewife. Tonight, however, she’s my twenty-two-year-old cum pig.”
I don’t know why my age was worth mentioning or exactly what the term “cum pig” means. But it sounds more than a little messy and very demeaning.
The man who asked the question came closer and, after looking at Mr. Riggs for permission, he pulled me close and smelled my breath. Then he reached inside my dress, roughly squeezed my breast and said, “Smells like she’s already had her first load of cum for the night.”
Mr. Riggs smiled and said, “Three of them, actually. But that was just an appetizer.”
I began groaning in pain as the man started squeezing my tit harder. Then he reached up and pulled my hair. When I squealed in pain he leaned forward and spit right in my mouth!
I gasped in shock and stumbled back. I lost my balance in those stiletto-heeled shoes I’m wearing and fell flat on my ass. I cried out in pain when I landed flat on my ass. It hurt like hell. My hands are useless because of the handcuffs and I had been unable to break my fall.
The audience was amused. They gathered around to watch as I struggled to get back to my feet. I managed to get to my knees with a great deal of difficulty. But before I could stand up, Mr. Riggs snarled, “Stay down there. I’ll tell you if I want you to walk on your hind legs, cunt.”
It adds significantly to my fear that the audience seems to be enjoying my abuse immensely. They closed in around me and before long there were rough male hands all over me, pinching and pulling and squeezing. It took them less than a minute to uncover my body. Very quickly my dress was nothing but a belt again. Not long after that someone reached down and grabbed one of the thin strings holding my thong in place and yanked on it.
It tore away almost effortlessly, allowing the little patch of cloth which had only just barely been covering my vagina to fall down onto my thigh, totally exposing me to their lustful stares.
A tall, skinny old guy came over and watched for a minute. He’s just as amused as the others. But with obvious regret he turned to Mr. Riggs and said, “I hate like hell to say this. I’m really enjoying the show. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to take this into the back just in case someone comes in who might take offense, like the law.”
Mr. Riggs smiled agreeably and said, “I understand perfectly.”
He turned to me and said, “Come on, pig. Let’s go.”
I tried to struggle to my feet but he drew his arm back and slapped the hell out of me, knocking me back down to the floor, on my face this time.
I gaped at him in shock. He glared down at me and snarled, “I told you to stay the fuck down there, pig! Now get back up on your knees and let’s go!”
I struggled back to my knees while all those men watched. As incredible as it seems, or at least as it seemed to me, I don’t see anyone who isn’t amused by the abuse I’m suffering.
The crowd parted to allow me to attempt to keep up with him as he walked at a normal pace across the floor. The floor is constructed of wooden planks but it’s an old building and the planks have been worn fairly smooth. At least I’m not picking up any splinters.
No splinters, but I’m definitely scraping the skin off of my knees as I hurried to keep up. Suddenly I’m not quite so confident I’ll be able to handle whatever Mr. Riggs can dish out. From the time I stepped into the limo this evening the treatment I’ve been subjected to hasn’t been about sex. It’s about abuse and humiliation. These assholes are getting off on hurting me and degrading me.
I fought to ignore the pain and the degrading treatment and follow him through the closely gathered crowd of dirty old men. I’m too afraid of the cruel bastard by now to do anything but obey. Hands reached out and tugged at my swaying breasts or cruelly pinched my exposed ass as I shuffled past.
We reached a door in the back wall and a buzzer sounded. One of the two men who accompanied Mr. Riggs this evening opened the door and held it while the four of us passed through. We entered a very dark hallway and paused just inside the door.
I can’t see anything but legs. The hallway is very dark and there are two men standing in front of me blocking my view. They moved down the hallway and I tried to follow. My knees are now scraping painfully on a cement floor. I soon became aware that we were passing men standing in the dark who are watching in amazement as I hobbled along on my knees, naked and helpless with my hands cuffed behind me.
There was a long series of flashes of light behind me. The buzzer continued to buzz. Each time it did the door opened, admitting a little light and more of the men from out front who are following us in so they can continue to enjoy the show Mr. Riggs is putting on to amuse them.
Halfway down the dark, narrow corridor Mr. Riggs stopped at an open door and looked inside the small cubicle. He stepped inside and I followed.
I found myself in little room about eight feet wide by five feet deep. I winced in pain as I hobbled along behind him on my increasingly sore knees. I hadn’t gone very far into the small room before I felt something wet on my knees. At first I thought I was bleeding. But I calmed down slightly when I realized it couldn’t be my blood. The liquid under my knees is cool. And then the smell hit me! I suddenly knew what I’m kneeling in. I’m dragging my skinned-up knees across cooling puddles of cum!
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