Kinky Love

byBOSTONFICTIONWRITER©

I was doing good, real good for a change. I had a great job as a chauffeur and, finally, was making enough dough to make me think about saving some of it to buy myself a new car, well, not brand new, but a new used car, a Ford Falcon, after my car died. Once out of prison, my life turned around on a dime, thanks to John, my rich employer, who is a real, nice guy. He was okay with the fact that I made a mistake, paid for my mistake with 12 years of prison time, and that I was working hard to change my life around with his help as my sponsor.

Only, things soured when John split with his wife, the la-de-da, pain-in-the-ass, queen of bitches, prissy miss, Godzilla Priscilla. John made the mistake of telling her that I was an ex-con and was in prison because a dozen years ago, when I was young, dumb, and full of, well, you know, it rhymes with rum, which I was full of that, too, I, kind of, tied up a woman, my stepmother. She deserved it, and I had my way with her. Man, let me tell you, I could write a story about that, the time that I tied up my stepmother. That was almost worth my 20 year sentence and my 12 year prison stretch behind bars and getting out early for good behavior.

My life started to take a turn for the worst, again, when John told me that I would be working for his wife, soon to be his ex-wife, now. After arguing with John over her settlement and losing, she was in a foul mood. This broad after being married to John for only two years thought that she was entitled to half of everything he owned. Hey, he earned his wealth way before she came along. Luckily, John was smart enough to have her sign a prenuptial agreement before they married and one that was ironclad. She still was getting a nice chunk of change but, no where near half of his estate.

So, here I am driving her to the country club for her golf lesson and she starts raggin' on me.

"Spike? What kind of name is Spike?"

She did not even give me a chance to reply before she went off on me and insulting me.

"Why would your parents name you after a piece of hardware? Did you father work for the railroad? Or was a spike the first thing that your mother saw and decided to name you that? The American Indians do that? You're not an American Indian, are you? Do you have a real name?"

"Everyone called me Spike or Spikie ever since I was a kid, Ma'am. It's just a nickname."

"Well, I cannot be referring to you as your nickname, Spike, if you are to chauffeur me. What is your given name?"

"Given name, Ma'am?"

"The name that appears on your birth certificate and driver's license, which I, certainly, hope you have a valid driver's license."

"Clarence, Ma'am. Yes, Ma'am, I have a driver's license that is valid."

"Very well, then, from this point forward, I shall refer to you as Clarence."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And Clarence, what are all those?"

"What Ma'am?" I said looking at her in the rearview.

"Those," she said pointing her manicured finger at me as if she was pointing to dog shit.

"My tats? My prison tattoos?"

"Yes, Clarence, why do you have them on public display?"

"It was hot outside when—"

"The limousine is air conditioned, Clarence. You will dress appropriately when driving me and must always wear your jacket and cap."

"But, John—"

"Who?"

"John, your husband," I said with a look that questioned if she forgot him already.

"Well, perhaps, my husband allowed you to call him by his first name but you shall only refer to me as Mrs. Pine or as Ma'am."

"Yes, Mrs. Pane, Ma'am."

"Pardon?" She shot me a look that shrunk my manhood.

"I said, yes, Mrs. Pine."

"And all of those people that my husband allowed to visit with you in your private quarters over the garage are no longer welcome and allowed on my property. One fellow tore up some of my prized flowers with his motorcycle."

"You mean, my friends?"

"That gang of animals and ruffians are your friends?"

"Yes, and John said that they could—"

"You work for me, now, Clarence, and will abide by my rules."

"But, they are my best buddies and because I don't have a car, yet, to drive to see them—"

"I should hardly call those criminal types best buddies."

"They are not criminals and they are my best buddies. They would do anything for me if I was in a jam and needed a—"

"What can that element possibly do for you other than to get you in trouble with the law, again? Haven't you learned anything from your mistake? Why on Earth would you risk jail time hanging around with those people? Matter of fact, I sent one woman, and I used the term loosely, away when she appeared at the front gate with a bottle of wine, and I use that term loosely. As she was, obviously, of questionable morals, the jug of wine she was holding was of a questionable vintage."

"You sent my Rose away?" I looked at her disbelieving that she sent my girlfriend away. All this time, I thought she stood me up. "It was my birthday. I invited her to have a drink with—"

"She was your girlfriend?" She said it like I just told her that I was gay. "I am sure that you can do better than that." She looked at me through the rearview. "You are not a bad looking type, in a brutish sort of way.

"But, I love her. She stood by me when—"

"Well, I don't think she'll be back, again. I told her that you were out with the maid."

"Out with the maid? I was not out with the maid. I drove the maid to pick up groceries per your instruction." I could not believe this woman torpedoed my relationship with Rose. "You make it sound like I was dating the maid. Now, Rose probably thinks that I was stepping out on her. That explains why she is not taking my calls."

My head hurt I was so mad. This broad in a matter of minutes was able to push all of my buttons. First, she started shit about my name, Spike, then, my tattoos, then, my friends, and now, my girlfriend. What the fuck? I was seeing red I was so mad. I was surprised that I could drive, I was so angry.

"Working with me, Clarence, you will meet a better class of people and, once you get to know and rub elbows with them, they will become your new friends, your real friends, and not some fly-by-night hoodlums."

"My friends are not hoodlums. They would do anything for me, if I needed help."

"Really, Clarence, what can they do for you? They have nothing. Do they even have jobs?"

"No disrespect intended Mrs. Pine but I would put my life in their hands, if it depended on it. After meeting some of your, so called, friends, I would not want to depend upon them for help."

"I beg your pardon. My friends, all of my friends at the country club, would help me no matter the emergency, especially, Biff, Muffy, Buffy, Sport, Duke, Ducky, Spider, and Bolo."

"Are those all their given names? Surely, those are not nicknames, are they?"

"Don't be smug with me," she said with a glare. "I don't like your tone."

"We'll, Ma'am, I do not appreciate you insulting me, my friends, and ruining the relationship with my girlfriend."

"I did no such thing. I just sent that trashy woman away. She smelled."

It took all the control that I had not to pull the car over and choke her to death.

"I will put my friends up against your friends, any day."

"Oh, goodie, a wager, I just love a competition." She actually clapped her hands. It was so annoying to watch his college educated and supposedly refined woman acting like a schoolgirl bouncing on the backseat of the limousine clapping her hands and giggling. "How should we go about this, then? And what should we wager? Oh, I know. If my friends come to my rescue and your friends do not come to your rescue than I will fire you. And if—"

"I have an idea."

I was on the far grounds of the golf course and pulled the car over, prematurely.

"Clarence, this is not the clubhouse entrance. We are in the middle of the woods." She peered out the window. "This is the eleventh fairway, I think, way over there."

I got out, opened the trunk, pulled out some roped, walked to her door, and opened it.

"Clarence, did you hear me, this—"

"Shut the fuck up."

I dragged her out of the car by her Armani silk blouse, wrapped the rope around her wrist, pulled her arm back behind her, and tied her other wrist behind her back.

"Clarence, let me go immediately or I shall call the police. Do you hear me? How dare you?"

"Lady, how are you going to call anyone when your hands are tied behind your back?"

"Help! Help! Help!" She screamed.

"Scream all you want, Honey. Ain't no one going to hear you way out here in the woods."

I walked her over to a tree a few hundred yards from the fairway, untied one wrist, told her to sit down on the ground, wrapped the rope around the bottom of the tree, and tied it around her other wrist. I figured, at least, this way; she was sitting down and comfortable. I figured this bitch would be crying and pleading with me to let her go, just like my step mom did, but not her, she was too mean. She has no idea what I am capable of doing to her.

I walked to the car.

"Wait, where are you going? Surely, you aren't going to leave me here in the woods with the bugs and forest creatures."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't leave you for a million bucks. I'll be way over there." I pointed to a hill 30 yards away that offered me some cover. I pulled a pair of binoculars from the car trunk. "Let's see how many of your country club friends will help you in your time of need."

"Clarence, okay, you've proven your point. Now, let me go."

"Let you go? What? So, that you can fire me, have me arrested, and sent back to jail? Oh, no."

"No, no, of course, not," she said, finally looking a bit nervous. "If you let me go, we will forget this little experiment ever happened. Okay? The whole thing is a big misunderstanding, a big joke. Ha, ha, see, it's funny."

I got in the car and drove to the distant hill parking the limo around back and out of sight.

"Clarence! Clarence! Clarence! Help! Someone help me!"

It did not take long for someone to come along, a golfer looking for his misplayed ball. I watched him approaching her from behind.

"Who's there?" I was barely close enough to hear but with the binoculars, I could read their lips, something that I learned in prison when all we had were our shaving mirrors to talk to our cellmates next door, so as not to have the guards hear our private conversation.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A golfer in yellow pants walked to the front of her. From his vantage point, with her skirt nearly up to her crotch and in disarray, he had a nice view of her panties up her cream, white skirt.

"Can you help me? Please, I beseech you. Untie my wrists, please."

"Of course, I will help you, but first you will have to do me a favor." He looked around before pulling down his zipper and pulling out his cock. He walked over to where she leaned against the tree.

"I have never had a man's penis in my mouth and certainly will not start—"

He grabbed and pulled a handful of her hair waiting for her to scream in pain before sticking his cock in her mouth. Holding either side of her head with his hands, he humped her face banging the back of her head against the tree. She leaned forward holding her head in place with rigid neck muscles so that he would stop banging her head against the tree and that, her holding her head steady, gave him the resistance that he needed to get off. He exploded a huge load of cum in her mouth within only a few minutes and pulled away from her.

"You filthy bastard. You dirty pig. Wait until my husband—"

"Bye, bye, Miss."

"Wait! Untie me. You said...don't go! Come back. Help!"

A big, black dog, a Lab, came running through the woods and over to her licking her face.

"Go away, doggie. Wait. Come back. Here boy. That's a good dog. Nice doggie. Where's your owner? Where's your master?"

"Hello," said a hiker, suddenly appearing from the woods. "What happened to you?"

"It's a long story, but a nasty man just forced me to suck his cock. He actually cam in my mouth." She looked up at him. "Can you believe that? Now, can you untie me?"

The hiker looked around.

"Untie you? Are you mad? This is an opportunity of a lifetime. You are a good looking woman. Let's see what you have beneath all those clothes."

"Stop! What the Hell do you think you are doing? How dare you?"

Within seconds, the hiker had stripped her naked, cutting away her blouse and bra. He touched her everywhere, the sick bastard. I actually felt sorry for her. She did have a great body, though. Then, he stood over her, unzipped, pulled out his cock and started masturbating until he shot cum all over her stomach, legs, chest, and face. This guy must not have cum in a month because he gave her a real cum bath.

He beat it the Hell out of there.

"Wait! At least untie me. I won't tell anyone. Please! Help! Somebody help me!"

Within only a few minutes a big woman wearing men's pants, a man's flannel shirt, and walking with a five foot hiking pole approached the scene.

"Hello," she said nonchalantly. "What happened to you?"

"Please, you must help me. A man just gave me cum bath after cutting my designer clothes away, stripping me naked, and touching me everywhere, and before him another man forced me to suck his cock and cam in my mouth...wait...stop...what are you doing?"

"I just want to suck your pussy, a little. You are a cute little thing, aren't you, Baby Doll."

"How dare, you? Stop! Don't you dare! Oh, oh, geez, that feels so good, oh, oh."

Priscilla cam violently with a few minutes.

"I need a cigarette."

"Now me."

"Pardon? What do you mean, now me?"

The big woman, removed her suspenders, unzipped her pants, and stepped out of them. Then, she removed the men's boxers she wore. She had the biggest ass and hairiest pussy that I have ever seen. She must never have trimmed that thing in all the years she was on this earth. I mean, she had long pussy hairs growing on the tops of her thighs and half way up her stomach. She squatted over her, grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her up to meet her pussy.

"You had better start licking before I start slapping."

"You listen to me. I am not a lesbian and—"

Slap, slap, slap. Mrs. Pine, Godzilla Priscilla, was now, officially, for today, at least, her bitch and a true lesbian.

I figured she had enough and was about to release her after the big dike had her way with her but through the forest came a large group of people carrying a couple of picnic baskets. As they walked closer, I recognized them. No way, what are the odds of this? There through the trees emerged Biff, Muffy, Buffy, Sport, Duke, Ducky, Spider, and Bolo.

"For God's sakes, Priscilla, Darling," said Duke, "What on Earth are you doing out here and in the nude?"

"Oh, Duke, Biff, Muffy, Buffy, Sport, Ducky, Spider, and Bolo," she said looking at and making eye contact with each one, as she named them, "my dear friends. My chauffeur, Spike, I mean, Clarence, you see, well, first there was an evil man that forced me to suck his cock cumming in my mouth, then, another man, a hiker, cut my designer clothes away stripping me naked and touching me everywhere and then he proceeded to jerk off shooting cum all over me." She looked down at herself. "I'll have to spend a month at the spa after this." Then, she looked back at her friends. "Then, his huge, hairy beast of a woman looking like a female version of Bigfoot ate my pussy and forced me to eat her pussy." She spat on the ground. "Would you be a dear and remove some of her pussy hair off of my lip?"

Biff looked at Muffy who looked at Buffy who looked at Sport who looked at Duke who looked at Ducky who looked at Spider and how looked at Bolo. Now, I don't know if it was the story that prissy missy, Godzilla Priscilla told them, but they all had the same idea at the same time. They all went at her and taking advantage of her like there was no tomorrow. Then, the worse of it was, when they were done, sexually satisfied, they left her there tied to the tree.

"Wait, God damn it. At least untie me. What the Hell kind of friends are you? Biff! Muffy! Buffy! Sport! Duke! Ducky! Spider! Bolo!"

Now, after watching her suck off that guy, get a cum bath, have her pussy eaten, eat a hairy pussy, and fuck and suck off all of her, so called, friends, I was totally turned on and it was my turn.

I strolled over to her removing my pants as I approached.

"You animal, how dare you? When my husband is done with—"

I stuck my dick in her pussy so deep and so hard slamming her ass into the forest floor that she cam, at least, three times before I exploded little Spike, Jr. inside of her womb. Priscilla and I have been together ever since that fateful day. Spike, Jr. just turned 24 and is out of college. He is off to Yale to earn his law degree.

Every year, on our anniversary, we recreate the scene by going to a different place, a beach, mountaintop, river bank, alleyway off of a quiet side street, or a biker rally; we've done it all. I tie her up and leave her there and then wait for the fun to begin. Then, we go home and celebrate our anniversary by fucking like newlyweds. I am telling you, especially those of you who have been married for a long time and your sex lives have, well, become distant memories; you must try this.

Get some rope, a comfortable tree to tie your Honey to, and leave her there. Trust me, you will not have to wait very long before the action begins. Good luck. Oh, and, just send me an e-mail letting me know where and when you tied up your Sweetie. I, uhm, just wanna see something.

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