tagNonConsent/ReluctanceA Devil's Wage

A Devil's Wage

byCindysBob©

[This story contains graphic descriptions of sex activity. It deals with voyeurism and multiple-partner scenarios. Some of the scenes herein can be considered as borderline non-consensual in nature, and is definitely "rough" at points. If you are offended by such material, please do not read further. All characters are over eighteen years of age.

As always, I do appreciate your taking the time to cast a vote, and really enjoy posted comments. I won't delete the negative ones, unless they attack other posters. So please, don't hesitate to express your views.]


_________________

A DEVIL'S WAGE

"What's this?" Ellen said with a mischievous grin, plucking the oversized envelope from high on the Christmas tree. "Has your name on it. See."

"To Frank, from Santa," I read aloud as she slid atop my lap, dallying the card before me.

"Better open it and see what the big guy has to say," she whispered.

I took it from her, ripping the seam with my thumbnail. I could see she was anticipating my reaction, that little air of nervousness, the furtive way she buried her nose into my neck. She'd obviously done the card on our computer; there was my wife sitting lotus style in front of the fireplace, an outsized Santa hat creeping down comically over her eyes. I chuckled at it, the goofy, playful smile of hers—a bushy pink bathrobe, and a truly outlandish pair of bunny slippers.

"Very chic," I commented dryly.

"All for you, Baby," she cooed close to my ear. "Check inside."

The certificates almost fell out onto our laps. Three of them on heavy stationary, each cut to roughly the size of a dollar bill, white with bright holly edging. I angled the top one down for my bifocals as Ellen shyly buried her face against my chest.

"Nice," I blurted appreciatively, reading the coupon again, nudging her with my shoulder.

There she was, front and center, my lovely wife, decked in an equally lovely short red dress—a mini Ms. Claus dress, I guess you'd call it, hemmed with white fur, lots of leg, cut low off the shoulders. The robe and slippers were strewn at her feet, curly brown hair spilling down across her shoulders.

"Very embarrassing," I heard her mutter.

"This could be the best gift I ever had."

"Could be?" she scoffed, punching me softly in belly.

I cleared my throat and read from the certificate, my smile broadening with each word.

WITH ALL MY LOVE, ELLEN

JUST ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE—AND YES, THAT MEANS "ANYTHING"

I rifled through the rest of them. Ellen had posed differently in each; bent provocatively at the waist, down on her knees, hiking that already ultra-short mini up a wee bit short of her knickers. She looked absolutely terrific.

"Something maybe thirty-two year old mothers shouldn't be doing," she said, finally lifting her eyes to mine.

"You look great," I answered, pecking her lips with a quick kiss. "How'd you think of this?"

"Out 'n out plagiarism," she laughed. "Book I was reading. Writer had her lady character give her husband a set of these."

"Did he make good use of them?"

"They had other issues," she said judiciously.

"Well I can pretty much promise you that won't happen with us."

"Never thought it would," she whispered at my ear, her tongue tracing along its many ridges and valleys.

"Think I'm gonna have to use one of these right now," I muttered, feeling that familiar warm swell low in my chest.

"Uh,uh," Ellen said, wagging a scolding finger. "You supposed to use these for something special, some deep dark fantasy. ...And remember, I can't say no."

"That could posit some interesting scenarios."

"Legal tender, both public and private."

"Some very, very interesting scenarios."

"Let's hope so," she said full of play now, pulling me up to my feet, rising tippy-toed to bring her lips to mine, her fingers tracing the front of my jeans—a discovery—and slowly pulling me off towards the bedroom.

______________________

I guess at heart I'm a bit of a miser, something that had really not appeared in my character up till Ellen gave me those vouchers. I just didn't want to "cash" them in so to speak, and so, quiet bizarrely, simply hoarded them, secreting two of them in my sock drawer and neatly folding the remaining one in the billfold of my wallet.

Ellen for her part was more than amused by this turn of events, teasing me on more than one occasion as to my ultimate plans for them.

I just couldn't get myself to waste them; that I guess was it in a nutshell. My wife has always been a generous and occasionally daring lover, a girl aware of her innate sexiness and the power it entailed over the men in her life. A flirt in a nuanced way, a reveler in fantasy; a woman relaxed in the fiery lust she still was able to stoke within me.

We'd been married for just over twelve years by then, two kids, a nice home; a nicer life. We had a deep affection for each other, a certain corporal loyalty seeded by years of monogamous fucking.

"I bet you're saving them for something absolutely debauched," she whispered one afternoon, coming upon them as she arranged clothes in our dresser.

"Maybe," I smiled.

"Remember, I can't say no," she grinned, suddenly full of mischief.

"No veto?"

"Nope."

"That's taking quite a chance," I parried, stepping up to nuzzle her slender neck, the sound of the kids running around downstairs telling me that this wasn't going to much further.

"I fully understand the implications, sir," she whispered throatily, lolling her head back with my attentions.

"I could..."

"You could give one of them out to some strange man," she half purred, knowing that this would stiffen me. "Then sit back and watch me have to entertain him."

I chuckled softly. It was always one of my darker fantasies to be a voyeur, a particular bent I'd harbored since I was barely in my teens. We'd been engaged for almost a year when Ellen first pried it out of me, laying in bed, spent from one of those vigorous, mind-blasting fuck sessions you'd have when you were twenty-one. Asking me what my favorite sexual fantasy was, coaxing me, teasing, finally laying it out that I'd probably want to see her with some other girl, the two of them doing it for my amusement. I said she was far closer than she knew, hesitant, wanting to say it aloud, leaping across the dangerous chasm; "not with another girl" ...that pause and the so-delicious grin that crossed her young face as the image coalesced, a crinkle of her nose; "another guy?" Or "guys" I whispered back on that long ago night, still able to hear her peel of laughter as she punched away at my bare chest and called me a pervert.

It was something my wife had always enjoyed playing with, a bit of hushed naughtiness that riled me more than any other single thing. Just like she was doing now...

"That I could do," I heard myself answer with a tight laugh.

"What would I have to do?"

"Whatever he wanted."

Ellen disengaged from my grasp and slipped across the floor, closing the bedroom door and pushing the lock button on the knob.

"Anything at all?" she asked, smiling, lowering to her knees, lifting her blouse over her head. "...Would you let him fuck me?"

I nodded and walked in front of her, feeling her small hand deftly work my belt buckle, the zipper gliding down slow, then pulling and tugging till I sprang free.

"And you'd watch?"

Ellen had me in her mouth as she muttered the words, wetly sliding up and down my shaft, her tongue swirling beneath me. I rested a hand atop her head, a silky mop of dark hair. I made a small gasp as she gently cupped my testicles.

"What if he wanted to come inside me?" she said, her face hard and shiny as she pulled back from my cock, dropping the straps of her brassiere off her shoulders and just lowering the satiny cups off her rounded breasts.

"If that's what he wanted to do." My hand was shaking as I grasped a fistful of her hair.

"You'd let him?"

I nodded tightly, keyed up as she went back onto me, working faster now, a scrape of teeth, her gaze constantly flickering up to mine.

Footsteps coming up the hall fast, our oldest girl Amy trying the knob: "Mom!"

Ellen fixed her eyes on mine, grinning around my swollen dick, sucking it, rocking her head from side to side.

"Mommy's busy," I wheezed, my tone shaky now.

"I need her!"

"In a minute," I answered, then dropping my voice: "...She'll be all done in a minute."

"But I need her now!"

Ellen's smallish fingers were stroking that patch of skin below my balls now, a wave a crackling pleasure churning up my body.

"I'm gonna come," I mouthed.

Ellen suctioned harder, her cheeks hollowing out with the effort, a flicker on her face as the first spurt of semen filled her mouth, bucking myself against her hard now, tugging her hair, emptying myself fully as she momentarily struggled for air.

"Mom!" The knob was turning again, rattling harder.

"Here I come," Ellen gasped impatiently, offering me a quick wink as she quickly stood up, slipping the straps of her bra back into place and readjusting the cups. Her mouth glistened lewdly. I reached out and took a firm tit in my hand, gently rolling the hardened nipple through the fabric.

"You owe me one tonight, buddy," she said close to my ear, then bent and picked up her blouse, motioning for me to straighten myself.

"Mommy!" My other little girl out there now, a shrill chorus—way too shrill coming as it did a mere thirty seconds after I'd just violated their Mom's mouth.

"When you have that other guy over we better send the kids to your Mom's," Ellen said with mock seriousness, holding the knob for another moment while I got fully tucked in.

I sat back on the bed as she sidled out of the door. "What is so important?" I heard her chide happily, the echo of their voices drifting as the three of them went back downstairs. I leaned back, closing my eyes, content in the way you feel after getting a good, spur-of-the-moment, blow-job.

I closed my eyes and thought about Ellen's words, amusing myself with various scenarios, imagining paying off some perilous debt with one of her vouchers, or of losing one across a smoke shrouded poker table—fun images to mull over, even though, thankfully, I had no "perilous" debts and my entire gambling career amounted to occasionally getting in the office Super Bowl pool.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, letting loose a relaxed sigh. I really did get off on that kind of shit; it was just some weird, twisted stuff was all. Harmless fantasy and all that; like a kid knocking off an imaginary tank with a cap pistol.

Just some fun, harmless stuff...

____________________

I went out to the Pittsburgh/West Virginia football game that fall. It was a cold, snowy day at Heinz Field, with Pitt just squeaking by for the win. I was out there with my brother, Tommy, and his friend Jack, who'd gotten some majorly sweet tickets from a sales rep.

A terrific time, I drove, my brother sprung for our post-game feast of fries and dogs at the big O.

Perfect, till I realized I'd lost my wallet. I'd had it in my jacket pocket, and didn't realize it was gone till I was parked in a toll booth just shy of crossing back into Ohio.

I'd bought popcorn at the stadium, and beers for three of us. Had to be where I dropped it. I called Ellen from the car and told her what happened, letting her know to put a freeze on my two credit cards.

That probably would have ended it, save for the hassle of getting a new driver's license and all the insurance and registration cards replaced.

Ellen phoned the stadium staff and was told nothing had been turned in, so I just chalked it up to experience. Still, what the hell would it cost someone to just toss it to the side, even after they'd rifled the cash and all.

On Monday I got home from work late, and Ellen had a plate made up for me. The girls were watching television and I was exhausted.

"Got a call on your wallet today," Ellen said brightly as I started eating.

"You did!"

"Guy found it in the parking lot at the stadium," she went on, reaching across to pluck a snow pea from my plate. "Asked if I wanted him to drop it off or just mail it."

"He's from around here?"

"No, he's from Pittsburgh...least I guess that's where he's from. Said he would be out here for a meeting tomorrow, and said he could drop it off before he goes home."

"Whatever," I answered cheerily. "...Hey at least I don't have to get all my papers duplicated."

"Yeah, your driver's ID, the registration card..."

"Insurance paper, my medical cards..." I added, absently ticking items off on my fingers.

"And let's not forget that little certificate for an evening of erotic bliss that your wife gave you for Christmas."

I froze, my mouth hanging slack. I'd forgotten about having it inside my billfold. With all the aggravation it had slipped right out of my skull.

Ellen's mouth crept into a wry twist.

"Shit."

"How nice it was for me to be speaking to this strange man, having a really pleasant conversation and all, hearing that all your cash and everything was still inside the wallet...and then just when I was thanking him so much for being honest and all, he mentions how he almost didn't want to return the "Ellen certificate"...that's what he called it, the "Ellen certificate". He just..."

"I don't believe this."

"Actually he was very nice about it, not like you're thinking or anything. He was just being a bit of a wise guy, just some mild joking and all."

I leaned back in my chair, the back legs creaking with my weight as I settled onto them.

"Of course I'm sure he also was hoping to fuck me," my wife went on in a hushed tone, wagging her brows for emphasis. "...I did look pretty snazzy on those pictures I took."

I just shook my head a bit.

"Anyways," Ellen went on. "He is coming by tomorrow after five with your belongings."

"You think it's a..."

"...a good idea that he comes out to our house?" she shrugged. "I'm not sure, that's why I think you are going to take a half personal day tomorrow and be here when he comes by."

"Okay."

"Good, now finish your dinner," she said, helping herself to another snow pea. "...An "Ellen certificate". How completely mortifying is that?"

I don't know why, but I started to laugh, and saw Ellen falter after a moment, her hand covering her mouth as a thin giggle escaped, a high blush rising on her fine cheekbones.

And so it was that I was home by one the next day, the weather outside very cold. Our youngest daughter was home from kindergarten at two and Ellen was upstairs in the small office she kept, doing a set of account books for one of her audit clients.

I have to admit that the whole situation had given me quiet a charge, the fact that this guy had found my wallet and had seen Ellen's certificate. It was intriguing; he had my wallet, the pictures of her that I kept inside, an old snapshot of her in a bikini at Cape Cod, formal portrait stills of her and my two girls, a picture of the two of us at our wedding reception.

It was around four-thirty when the door bell chimed. I glanced out the window and saw the BMW convertible parked in our drive, top up of course, winter salt and grime giving it a leached-out grayness.

Ellen was down the steps and at the door in a lick, clearly wanting to get there ahead of me.

"Hi," she said, stepping back a bit, her head craned upward.

"You're Ellen." I saw only the hand with my wallet in it, the voice deep and masculine, cool and sly. "I'd recognize you anywhere."

"Come on in," she said, ushering him inside with a wave. I noticed that she'd changed her clothes since I'd gotten home—a turtleneck traded in for a chic white blouse, which together with her slacks perfectly accented her thin, athletic frame, a healthy bounce to her tits.

"I was looking forward to..."

"This is my husband, Frank, and this is Amy," she said quickly, gesturing to me as I came up from the opposite side. There was just a flicker on his face. I knew he must've been hoping that she was alone; just on the percentage that you never knew what was going to happen when you got a woman alone.

"Hi," he said without missing a beat. "I'm Tony Conti."

"Great to meet you, and thank you for that," I said heartily, pointing to the wallet, taking it from him as he held it out for me. We shook hands. His grip was strong, like being snapped up in a machine press or something.

"Hey no problem, man," he said pleasantly. "I'm glad I found it."

"Good game, huh?"

"Not for me, man. Not for me," he laughed, shaking his head, crouching down at the knees to try shaking hands with Amy who was hugging against me thigh. "You're as pretty as your Mom," he said, making her hide her face harder into me.

"Would you like something to drink," Ellen spoke up.

"No, no, I gotta get going,"

"I appreciate you bringing it over like this," I said. "I hope it wasn't too far out of your way."

"Not at all," he said casually, still smiling at my daughter. I watched him for a long moment. He was a very big guy, extraordinarily large through the shoulders and neck, clean cut, with a dark complexion. I was guessing that he was maybe in his early thirties tops, neatly dressed in a dark overcoat.

"You went to West Virginia?"

"Yeah, played for 'em when they still sucked," he laughed.

"What'd you play?" I asked with real interest now.

"Special teams and I started as an end for half my senior year," he replied. He was six-five easy, a broken nose that healed out of line a bit; he towered over me, and was a good foot and a half taller than my Ellen who was a very petite five-one.

"Sure you won't have a drink or something," I asked, repeating Ellen's offer.

"No, I really do have to get back on the road," he said, then thinking of it for a second. "...You go to the games a lot?"

"When I can."

"You Ellen?"

"Once in a while," she lied.

"Well, here," he paused, reaching beneath his overcoat and coming out with a business card. "Give me a call and I'll try and get us tickets to one of the better games."

"Thanks," I said, again shaking his hand, or rather having my hand nearly disappear in his.

"Yes, thank you," Ellen added quickly, coming up on her tiptoes' for no other reason than to look good. He took her hand and bent to gently envelop her with a quick hug, a pretty bold move if you asked me, as it came with people he'd only just met.

I pulled the curtain back as he backed out of the drive, feeling Ellen up at my side.

"Is it in there?"

I glanced over at her. She looked off a bit, frazzled in an odd way.

I flipped open the wallet, fingering through the bills till I found it, sliding it up for her to see.

"I think he wanted to give it to you personally," I whispered, checking to see that Amy had run off to find her sister.

"I think he wanted to give it to me too," she smirked.

"I could call him back."

"He'd kill me," she said, stroking her fingers up my chest.

"He was a..."

"He'd fuck me and there'd be nothing left. God, could you imagine him on top of me," she cooed sexily, a surreptitious glance around to make sure the girls were gone as she glided down to my crotch.

"He definitely was hoping to. You know that."

"I sort of flirted with him on the phone," she whispered, clearly aroused now. "He was talking about the, you know the paper and all, and...and I was maybe a little too flirty with him, saying I hoped I could get it back from him...that's why I wanted you here tonight. I was all worried when I hung up and thought, like, are you crazy talking to some strange guy you don't even know like this."

"How 'bout when you saw him?"

"Jesus I..."

"I'm sure you could've reclaimed your property very easily."

"God, he was gargantuan," she giggled, darting back from me as she heard the girls coming down the staircase.

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