My Boss' Slut Ch. 8

The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations in which it is legal. If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder, except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, non-commercial archive sites.

Copyright 1998 by E. Z. Riter.

Please! Give me your comments.

*****

Becky, my wife and my boss' slut, was telling me about her weekend. At his club, Mr. Williams, my boss, and six other men filled her with their cum after making a bet on which one would get her pregnant. More than that, nineteen other men fucked her all they wanted. Each of those nineteen had to use a condom so they would not interfere with the bet. Becky was very appreciative that they emptied all the condoms into her willing mouth so she could swallow all that man cum. Becky is a world class slut and sluts can never eat enough cum.

Becky gave me a beautiful, innocent smile and resumed her story.

"While I slept, I dreamed. I dreamed I delivered seven babies at once except they were not really babies. They were about four years old. They were all boys and each one looked exactly like his father, meaning none of them looked like you or me. The city gave me a big parade. I was naked, riding in a float covered with roses. Our seven little sons were standing up by me, waving to the crowd. Oh, Bobby, what a wonderful dream."

She looked pensive as a tear floated down her cheek. I knew how much my Becky wanted children, children I could not give her since I was sterile. She smiled wanly, patted my hand, and continued with her story about her weekend.

"Saturday morning, Horse awakened me. He untied me and removed my collar and restraints. I was a little stiff from being bound all night. In the bathroom, I removed the golden comb and swallowed down the cum that had been in my pussy, took a shower, washed my hair and, generally, cleaned up.

I was starved, Bobby. All that fucking makes a slut hungry. Horse just grinned when I asked for something to eat and handed me a quart milk bottle. It was full of animal cum, courtesy of Mr. Simmons. That was it. They gave me nothing else to eat all weekend except four quarts of cum plus the cum from all those condoms and funnels."

No wonder Becky had scarfed that pizza and beer as if she were starved. I wondered what the food value of cum was and if there was any way to find out.

"Bobby, come to think of it, I was never really hungry either, not until I smelled the pizza. Then I was famished. Anyway, it was just Horse and me in the club. We talked and played gin rummy. I really do like Horse. If he were fifty years younger, I would be his mistress, his personal slut. Don't worry, Bobby. I'd never leave you for him or anyone else.

My god, Bobby. You're so hard. You're hard all the time. I like that, Bobby. Want a quickie?"

"Later. Tell me more."

"Bobby, I think it's wonderful you like having a slut wife because, baby, your wife loves being a slut. Well, I drank the animal cum as Horse and I finished our gin rummy game. One of the men came in. He took me in the bedroom and fucked me. Nothing wild or unusual. Just a good hard fucking from a good man with a good hard cock. That's how the morning went. Men would arrive and fuck me. Some wanted to take their time. Others had a golf game or something and were in a hurry. Generally, it was fairly calm. I like that kind of fucking, too, you know."

She laughed introspectively and squeezed my hand.

"I like all kinds of fucking, don't I? About lunch, the other six fathers arrived. They went through the same routine as the prior night, tying me to the bed, using a funnel to fill me with seed, and then sealing my pussy with a golden comb through my pussy rings. In the afternoon, I played cards and visited and fucked whoever asked. About four Mr. Williams told me to take a nap.

Bobby, how about a quickie? Please."

I could tell by her voice and her face Becky wanted to orgasm. Mr. Williams, once again, had been completely correct about his slut, about my wife. Becky was addicted to sex and loved being that way. I loved her being that way. My sex life had never been better.

"I'll eat you," I answered.

She gave a little squeal and shoved me on my back. In a flash, her pierced pussy was pressed against my mouth. I do love eating Becky's pussy. This time I wrapped my arms around her thighs to hold her tightly against me. That reduced her movement and made it take longer before she came.

Wow! She came over and over, squealing and bucking and begging me to do it harder. I love seeing my Becky cum.

"God, that felt great," she said, as she lay against me, those massive tits crushed into me like soft pillows between us. I stroked her ass as she rested. Finally, she stretched and yawned, rolling over on her back.

"You have got to hear the rest of my weekend. Mr. Williams awakened me about seven, told me to bathe and dress. What surprised me was he gave me a pair of panties to wear. After all, I had never worn panties around him. But, they were silk and sheer.

'What is going on?' I asked.

He swatted my ass hard with his hand.

'Did Bob tell you not to open your mouth unless a man wants to shove a cock in it?'

'Yes, sir. I'm sorry,' I replied. And, I was sorry. I wanted to be the best slut ever for him and his friends. I wanted to do exactly what they wanted me to do.

I followed the seven fathers to a van. In about ten minutes we arrived at a gentlemen's club, you know, one of those places were women dance topless. We all went inside. Bobby, there were women, all sorts of women, everywhere. One woman was on the runway dancing, wearing just a G-string. We sat and watched for a while. When we first went in, I was disappointed. Really, since I'd fucked all seven of them, I couldn't understand why they wanted to watch other women. But, in a while, I found out.

You know, Bobby, we women are something special. Our bodies are so sensual, so, just so sexy. I was getting turned on watching the other women dance. I'm looking forward to having Trudy, Bobby.

It was amateur night and they were having a dance contest. Bobby, I felt sorry for the other women. I mean, they were good looking and sexy but, none of them stood a chance of winning. Not with me there. Not with these tits and these legs. But you know it's more than just looks, don't you, Bobby? Well, don't you?"

"Yes. It's more than just looks."

Her eyes glowed with excitement and desire.

"You bet it is! It's what is inside me, my desire, my need, my happiness at being a slut. That's what turns the men on. They just look at me and they can see it! They know I love getting fucked even more than they love fucking me. It drives them nuts!

Mr. Williams talked to me. He told me to think of fucking and of being the best. That's what I was already thinking of. He also told me not to take off the panties because that would be against the law.

Bobby, you want to fuck?"

"No. I want to hear about the rest of your evening."

"Bobby, it's a good thing you let me fuck other men, because I love to fuck. I don't think there is a man in the world who could keep up with me."

"I agree. Talk!"

"Do you understand what I'm saying? There'll always have to be a lot of men in my life, Bobby. A lot. I love to fuck and suck and swallow cum and feel their hard pricks in me."

"I know, Becky. That's fine with me. A world class slut like you should have a lot of men. Now, finish your story."

"When it was my turn to dance, Mr. Williams just lifted me to the runway. I looked around at the sea of faces. They were all staring at me, their eyes glazed. I could see their desire for me."

She laughed in a wanton, evil way.

"But all men want a slut like me. All of them. Oh, I loved dancing for them. I loved the way their faces looked as they stared at me. Bobby, they were dazed. They couldn't take their eyes off me. I loved their catcalls and the hands reaching for me. I loved the whistles and the applause. I loved knowing every cock in the place was at attention because of me. Me. Becky, the slut.

I took my time, bumping and grinding to the music. I could feel the sweat pouring from me, feel the sex oozing from my pores. Slowly, I stripped. I kept the panties on just like Mr. Williams said to do. The men watching me could see my juices sliding down my leg, see the rings in my pussy. I heard them comment on the rings. Honestly, I think a guy in the second row orgasmed in his pants from seeing those rings in my pussy through my sheer panties. Really, the panties, soaked in my pussy juice and plastered to my bloated pussy lips, were sexier than if I wore nothing.

It makes me so horny thinking about it, I need to fuck. Come on, stud. Fuck me! Please?"

"Soon. Go ahead."

She sighed unhappily, then smiled conspiratorially.

"I won, of course. One thousand dollars. The crowd collected another thousand for me to dance a second time. I would have danced for free, but it was nice to be appreciated. I danced slowly, moving my hips and my legs, showing off my body. They loved my body, Bobby. Oh, I could get to where I really liked dancing like that.

After my second dance, when the music stopped, the place was as quiet as a tomb. Everyone was staring at me. Their mouths hung open, their tongues snaked across dry lips. Even the owner and the bouncers stared at me as if they'd never seen anything as sexy, as slutty, as me. Mr. Williams reached up for me. I slid into his arms, wrapped my legs around his waist, and kissed him long and hard as I ground my body into his.

I didn't plan to say what burst out of me. But I did. Really loudly I said, 'I want to get fucked right now!'

Oh, my god, I thought the customers would tear the place down getting to me. They were wild animals, Bobby, like bulls in mating season and I was the heifer they wanted to breed. As the bouncers fought off the crowd, the seven fathers carried me out and shoved me in the van. After the van screeched away, Mr. Williams gave me a hard pinch on my tit.

'You'll be whipped for that,' he said.

'Okay, if you tie me down, too,' I said with a giggle. They all started to laugh, but when we got back to the club, they tied me over a poker table and whipped my ass. I loved it. I loved it even through my tears.

Please, Bobby, fuck me. I need it so. Please! Oh, you stud, the best slut in the world is begging you to fuck her. Begging! Come on, Bobby. Fuck me!"

I fucked her. I fucked her hard. What I really liked was that she started cumming almost as soon as I entered her. She came and came, multiple orgasms. When I felt like I might shoot, I pulled out and ate her, holding her arms down by her side, hearing her moans, her begging for me to continue. I ate her until she was exhausted and my jaw was sore. Then, I put my cock in her again and fucked her until I came. Her multiple orgasms did not stop until she felt my cum hit the walls of her pussy.

When I rolled off her, she smiled at me, her face soft and relaxed, her eyes sex crazed and unfocused.

"Feed me your cum. Take it from my pussy and let me lick it from your fingers. I love your cum, Bobby."

I fed her my cum, just like she asked. She slurped and sucked, the noise adding to the joy of seeing my Becky greedily eat my cum, the cum I had left in her. Her eyes closed as she drifted to sleep. I lay by her and stroked her face and body, enjoying this delicious slut that was my wife.

Yes, she was a slut, a super, world class slut. She was the slut of my boss, his father and twenty-three of his friends. But she was my slut, too, and she was my wife.

After about half an hour, Becky yawned and stretched. She pulled my head down to kiss her and I tasted her and our juices together.

"Have you been playing with me while I was asleep?"

"Yes, I have."

She gave me a slutty grin.

"Well, I'm horny as hell and I want to be fucked again."

"It's good for a slut to be horny. Makes you all the more ready when a man wants you."

"Bobby, you sound just like Mr. Williams. In fact, you're a lot more like Mr. Williams. That's good. I like your boss. I like being his slut. He sure knows how to treat a slut like me. I like you being more like Mr. Williams, Bobby."

She yawned and got off the bed. When she returned from the bathroom, she lay down by me again. She slipped up against me and gave me a soft kiss. Then, she continued her story.

"You know, after they whipped me, when I was tied over the table, I begged them to fuck me. They just laughed and walked away. My god, I was horny! I wanted it so badly. But they ignored me. That made me feel so slutty. There I was, naked, freshly whipped and still tied down, begging them, anyone, to fuck me.

I would have thought my desire would have ebbed as time passed, but it didn't. It seemed a year to me as I lay there begging to be fucked. Finally, they untied me and did what I had been begging for. They fucked me really well. Thank God, there was a lot of them because being tied down and whipped and left to beg really makes this slut horny. Super horny!

That night, the seven fathers again put their cum in me using a funnel. It was the fourth time. Again, they sealed my pussy with the golden comb, tied me to the bed, and left me there for the night.

Sunday morning was like Saturday. I read the newspaper, sitting naked in their club, quietly drinking my animal cum for breakfast. When a man arrived, I did anything he wanted. Then, Mr. Williams told me to clean the place up. I did. I scrubbed the floors, changed the sheets, everything. The seven fathers filled me again. They put the comb in place and brought me home."

A sly grin crossed her face and a devilish look was in her eyes.

"What haven't you told me?" I said.

"Do you know what a chastity belt is?"

"I've heard of them. I didn't know they really exist."

"They do. Believe me."

She wanted me to ask about it. She wanted me to ask so much she was squirming. Finally, I asked. She grinned evilly again.

"Bobby, as I was tied down over the table, after I had been whipped and left there, after I had begged long and hard to be fucked, I got mad. I know I'm a slut, but a slut has feelings, too. And this slut needed to feel a cock in her.

'I'll find other men to fuck, a lot of men, if you wimps cannot keep me happy!' I screamed at them.

No one said anything as they arose and started toward the table. I was afraid they really were going to whip me hard, but they released me. Mr. Martinez had this steel contraption in his hands. They held me motionless as he put it on me and locked it. Then, they walked away.

I started to examine it. I freaked out when I discovered nothing could touch me between my legs. Certainly no cock was going to get in me. I couldn't even masturbate. I ran to Mr. Williams who ignored me even though I was kneeling by his side, begging him to talk to me. Finally, he looked down at me.

'Becky, you're my slut. You belong to your husband and to me. If I believe you are screwing someone other than me, Bobby, my father, or the other twenty-three club members, I'll lock you in that chastity belt as punishment. I might leave you in it for a month. Do you understand what that means?'

'Yes. Please, Mr. Williams. I'll be good! I'll be faithful to the twenty-six men you named! Never do that to me!' I sobbed.

He released me, undoing the chastity belt and taking it off me. It felt so wonderfully free, so absolutely wonderfully alive, to be able to touch my own pussy again. Believe me, Bobby. I'll never fuck anyone unless Mr. Williams says I can. I couldn't stand to not orgasm, not even for a day."

She giggled again and stroked between her legs.

"I don't even know if I can stand to go eight hours without orgasming, Bobby."

A chastity belt. Wow! That would be the perfect punishment for my Becky. No orgasm! Ideal punishment for a slut like her. She'd go insane in less than a week if she couldn't orgasm. I had to hand it to Mr. Williams. He really knew how to handle a slut like Becky.

I realized how good it was for me to have someone like Mr. Williams to teach me how to handle a slut like Becky. She had changed since she became my boss' slut. I loved those changes. I was very happy. But I realized it took a special man to love, live with, and manage a slut. I was glad Mr. Williams was showing me how to do it.

"Bobby, let's get something to eat. I'm hungry again," she said softly.

After we ate, we curled up together in bed, her back to me, her head on my arm, a giant tit in my hand. We fell asleep that way.

The next day, I didn't go to work. Mr. Williams had agreed I could have a day or two off to help Becky get her townhouse rented and established. We drove in her new convertible.

On Wednesday morning, she started her new career as a professional slut, leaving the house at seven in the morning since her first fuck was at seven thirty. The first week or so, we were adjusting to the new routine. She'd come home from work tired and hungry but reasonably well satisfied. Sometimes she had only one man in the morning and another in the afternoon. Sometimes she had five or six.

But she was Becky, the slut. She still wanted to fuck me each night. She always came like a women sexually possessed.

Friday, Mr. Williams called me into his office. We actually talked about the company for a few minutes before he changed the subject.

"Trudy told me Becky came on to her?" my boss said.

"Yes, sir," I answered honestly. "Becky said a slut should have sex with women."

"Becky's right. A slut should have sex with women as well as with men. She should have sex with anything - animal, mineral or vegetable - which will fit up her love tunnel. Trudy's a little put off by it, though. I want you to have both of them this Sunday. See that they make love."

"Yes, Mr. Williams."

"I'm taking Becky Friday night. My Dad has her Saturday morning. One of the club members is having a poker party Saturday night. There will be six guys there for her. Do you want Trudy for the weekend?"

"Yes, sir. Please."

"She'll be there at eight. That is all, Bob."

Trudy and I had a lovely Friday night and Saturday. I was enjoying Trudy. She was a wonderful women. But, to be honest, Trudy was never going to a real slut, not a world class slut like my Becky. Trudy was perfectly happy fucking just Mr. Williams and me. Becky could never be happy with just two men. I knew that. We all knew that.

Trudy and I talked about her having sex with Becky, too. I told Trudy Mr. Williams wanted her to have sex with Becky and so did I. She was very apprehensive. Becky got home about four Sunday morning, awakening us with her arrival.

Becky was hyper. I asked her what was wrong. She turned and stared at Trudy, her eyes boring into my boss' secretary.

"I'm looking forward to having my first lesbian sex with Trudy," she said, desire dripping from her voice and, if I knew my Becky, probably from her pussy, too.

I couldn't see Becky's pussy though, to really tell if it was dripping. She had on a leather skirt which started right above her pubis, a leather halter top, and the "slut" charm dangling from her navel. She wore thigh high stockings, as always. The skirt was long enough to cover the stocking tops when she stood. It was an emerald green color. She really did look wonderful, wonderfully slutty, which is what she was.

"I don't want to have sex with you, Becky. I'm not a slut like you are," Trudy said shyly.

"Oh, Trudy, don't be ashamed by that. It's okay. Not every woman can be a world class slut like me. Not everyone is a professional golfer but a lot of people still like to hit the ball around. You can still have fun and not be a pro like me," Becky said reassuringly as she held Trudy's hands.