The Transformation of Betty Ch. 05

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A new toy; displayed again at the restaurant.
8.4k words
4.52
104.8k
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Part 14 of the 25 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 05/06/2006
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It would take countless pages to recount all the details of my wife's training and experiences and at this point it's probably more useful to describe its various high and low points. After her first week as a slut, perhaps the most notable events that occurred relatively shortly thereafter was when Bill and I jointly had her again at his house and a return to the restaurant we ate and danced at that first full weekend of her as a slut.

Bill and I had agreed that to establish a routine for her training and use, we should spend at least one night a week at his house. And naturally, I'd spent a good part of our second week thinking about the hooks in Bill's ceiling and what my wife looked like helplessly strung up. I suppose many husbands fantasize about such things, though perhaps mostly in the privacy of their own bedrooms. Well, if that is erotic, having another man there is even more so. But I was largely a voyeur the first time and didn't truly control her myself. That was a situation I craved rectifying. So when Bill and I agreed to bring her over the following Friday after dinner I told him I wanted to take the lead. He had no objection, doubtlessly because he knew that if all went well, he'd have innumerable opportunities of his own.

So Friday, after the dinner dishes were washed, I told Betty we were going to Bill's and that she could wear whatever she wished, provided that she also wear her hose, garter and 5" pumps. That requirement derived from the fact that she looked so wanton and slutty wearing only those things.

When she appeared shortly thereafter dressed neither conservative or slutty I thought to myself how unashamedly she switched between housewife and whore – between asking me to help with the dishes to quietly following me to Bill's knowing she was being taken to be used and fucked as a sub slut. I on the other hand seemed to struggle more with switching between being her husband versus a Dom and I understood even then that the struggle was a sign of my inexperience in this lifestyle as well as to the fact that I had not fully adjusted to my wife being not only a willing sub slut for Bill and I but who also responded to the imagery of being made a stripper and a whore..

Because there's no point in pretending a 'normal' social mood, upon arriving at Bill's I immediately told her to remove her blouse and skirt. Then turning to Bill, asked him to help me attach the wrist and ankle cuffs he kept nearby. Neither of us played with her at then – she was required to stand submissively silent as we prepared her -- but her cunt was clearly growing wetter, especially when I pointedly stated "let's go to the bedroom, I want to string the slut up."

Once there she simply walked over to stand beneath the hooks in the ceiling without even being told to do so and thereafter allowed her wrists to be attached to the ceiling with no more resistance than she offered downstairs. Even today, when I think back to that night, it all seems surreal – my wife seemingly asking to be used as a BDSM slut. Once hung, I found the image incredibly erotic. Of course, I'd seen pics of women strung up wearing heels, hose and garters, but for it to BE your own wife and for her to have so willingly surrendered to her helpless state is altogether different.

I remarked to myself how much more sexy and depraved she looked with her cunt now trimmed as Bill had suggested – into a sharply defined dark strip that would certainly stand out in a white or sheer gown. I even thought then of a night when I'd take her out on display in the skin tight gown I'd bought her that became more than semi-sheer when stretched tight over her. But now the main order of business was to bring her the pleasures she so unashamedly craved. "Comfortable whore ... and cunt wet?"

"Yes Sir," she replied, once again reverting to the formalism of calling me Sir.

"What do you think we're going to do to you?"

"I don't know, but I know you will make me cum ... Sir"

I turned to Bill and asked if he would again put the hood on her with an opening only for her nose and mouth: "there's no reason you should see what will be done to you until it has in fact been done." Even as I said this, however, I knew I had no specific plan. And the question I had not answered to my own satisfaction was what I hoped would be the net result of this session. If it were training, then training to what end? My wife, after all, was not resisting anything – there were no apparent inhibitions that needed to be broken. I had to admit, then, that tonight was largely for my own pleasure – a motive that left me feeling mildly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, satisfying my own inner lust, fueled by seeing my wife as a strung up slut, was a motive I couldn't resist.

I motioned to Bill to now get the tweezer clips since she had responded so strongly to them before. However, rather than attach them directly, I decided to again have her confront her surrender. I may have been inexperienced, but I did know that an essential part of a slut's training it to get them to reveal desires they would otherwise be too embarrassed to acknowledge, and to repeat that process until there is no possibility of any surviving modesty Stepping in front of her I let a finger slide slowly over her clit, then move ever so lightly around the entrance to her cunt: "Your going to be our slut again tonight, aren't you?".

"Yes Sir, I am."

"And I bet you're already looking forward to having Bill and I fill you with our cocks and our cum?"

"Yes Sir"

Then referring to myself in the third person: "Tell Bill you want him to fuck you .. Tell him you want him to shove his hard cock into you while your husband watches you cum like a whore."

"I want you to fuck me Bill ... fuck me like a whore while my husband watches."

"Because you are a whore, aren't you?"

"Yes ... because I am a whore."

Noting that her use of the word 'Sir' tended to disappear whenever she began to get hot, I asked a question I had no desire to pursue, but still wanted her to address: "Do you think we should make you a real whore and loan you out to be fucked?"

"Oh god ... I don't know ... I'm not sure I can do that."

"NOT SURE?" I queried, registering disapproval, while twisting two more fingers into her cunt. "Oh god, I can't .... oh, I don't know ... "

I could sense a break in her resistance to the idea, but decided to turn my attention to something she might find less objectionable, "should we make you a stripper on stage for men to admire and lust for?"

"Ohhh .. I don't know .. I'm not .... I don't know ... " she answered in a half-pleading voice.

"Think of the men looking, lusting, fantasizing about fucking you" I said while keeping my hand and fingers at her cunt: "See yourself dancing, playing with your tits and cunt, making their cocks hard."

With definitive pauses between acknowledging what she now knew to be true, she replied "I don't know .......," but then as I moved my fingers in a way I knew would excite her, she suddenly blurted "maybe ... yessssssssssss, if you want me to."

"And if they wanted to touch you, you'd let them, wouldn't you?"

"Yesssssssss ..." she moaned as I felt her hips and cunt begin to move on my hand. In another circumstance it might be difficult to say whether she was trying to escape the pleasure in her cunt or deliberately seeking to accelerate it. But now there was no escape and her answers made it clear that it was not escape that she sought.

Bill, seeing her increased excitement, retrieved his 8" vibe while interjecting "lets get this slut really hot and see how hard she can cum." Then, with little time for her to adjust, he plunged it hard into her ass.

With a guttural cry of "ohhhhhhhh god" her hips jerked forward against me. But Bill gave her only seconds to adjust before he turned on the vibe and began to slowly twist and turn it in her ass. My wife, fortunately, is one of those women who can cum when 'merely' being butt fucked without clitoral stimulation. However, at that instant she was getting both and it took less than a minute for her body to stiffen, followed by a wailing "yessssssssssssssssss ..." as her first cum of the night hit her.

"Lets see how many times this whore can cum," I announced.

With Bill playing with her ass and my fingers still in her cunt, I began fondling, squeezing and pinching her tits with one purpose in mind – to make her cum. And indeed in short order she let out a loud moan "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as a second cum shook her.

"The slut's really getting unleashed now," Bill observed, his hand around her waist as he slid the vibe in and out of her ass hard and deep.

Pushing my fingers up hard until it seemed I was nearly lifting her off the floor, her body began to shake in what would otherwise pass for a convulsion: "Ohhhhhh goddddddddddddddddddddd" she screamed as her orgasms began to come in rapid succession. Then lowering my head to take a tit in my mouth, I licked, sucked then bit down hard until her body seemed to shake uncontrollably and a guttural moan "Arggggggggggggggggggggggggggg ..." announced yet another orgasmic convulsion.

At this point it was impossible to resist wanting to fuck her, and Bill had by then already dropped his pants. Pulling the vibe out and grabbing her by the hips, he thrust his stiff cock into her. And even in her present disheveled state her body seemed to instinctually know the difference between a vibe and Bill's throbbing cock: "Yesssssssss ..." she moaned, followed quickly by another convulsive "ohhhhhhhhh godddddddddddddddd."as he pulled partially out then thrust his hips forward to ram back into her.

Bill came quickly and now it was my turn. Normally it's not easy to fuck a woman when she's standing – forget about those images of a slut pinned against a wall being lifted off the floor were one's cock is as likely to slip out of her than anything else. But here's where hanging her by her wrists provides a special advantage. Stepping out of my pants, I lifted my wife by her thighs and aimed my cock into her cunt. Truly hanging now by her wrists, she instinctively wrapped her legs around me as I slid wholly into her, my hands gripping the cheeks of her ass. Rocking now into her, her head fell back as she commenced a cadence of moans to the rhythm of my hips. Clearly, this slut of a wife of mine was being consumed by the sensations in her cunt and it again took little time for another orgasm to tear thru her.

Bill, however, was not about to sit idly by. Again stepping behind her, he reached around and with no delicacy whatsoever attached one clip to a nipple and the second to the other. She let out with a sharp "ohhhhh godddd" that was somewhere between a cry of pleasure and pain, followed almost immediately by the sensation of her hips bucking wildly, uncontrollably against me as she let out another orgasmic wail.

Watching my wife cumming virtually out of control with her cunt holding my cock and her hips pounding against me made it impossible to maintain any degree of control. And there was, in fact, little time to announce the explosion of my cock as spurt after spurt filled her.

I held here there like that for a minute or two, looking at her swollen clamped nipples. She hung there motionless for five or ten seconds, not uttering a sound, and then a small tremor would pass through her shaking her tits. Then another few seconds of calm followed by a similar tremor. This cycle continues until I pulled out and released her, whereupon she seemed to hang there by her wrists like the proverbial rag doll. Bill, on the other hand, was still not yet done with her. Handing me the vibe that he had cleaned off on a nearby towel, he said simply "shove this into her cunt and watch this."

Doing as he suggested, Bill disappeared for a minute only to reappear with yet another 'toy' I had not yet seen my wife endure ... a riding crop. Letting its end slide slowly and seductively over her lips (and yes, her mouth did open instinctively as if she was going to suck it) he asked "you know what this is, slut ... don't you?"

She was in fact more conscious that her appearance suggested – conscious enough at least to let her moan "Yessss."

With me still holding the vibe in her cunt, Bill slowly and tauntingly let the end of the crop slide across the cheeks of her ass and then into the crack between them. "You know how this feels slut, don't you? ... you know how hard it can make you cum?" This time there was no verbal response, but I could feel the press of her hips against my hand and the vibe in her cunt. Then, a light flick of the crop against one cheek, followed by another, and her hips jerked again against my hand. "Watch, the slut loves the crop," and with that announcement Bill cracked the crop hard against a cheek.

"Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh" she grunted, jerking again, followed by a wail "Aieeeeeeeeeeeeee" as the crop landed again against her ass. And then a third crack, and a fourth when suddenly her body once again began to shake uncontrollably and nearly off the vibe I was holding in her cunt. A piercing scream, half out of pain and the other half from pleasure, announced still another surging orgasm.

"I think the slut is done" Bill announced and I had to agree. After we both stepped away I siply stood there watching her watching her limp body, head hanging down, tremble, relax, then tremble again as she had done with impaled on my cock. I had, of course, heard of a thing called sub space wherein a woman gives herself over totally to pleasure and can be said to no longer have a mind of her own. I had, however, never seen such a thing, but I knew then that whatever it was, my wife had achieved it.

With my cum now drying on her thighs and the clips still attached to her tits Bill suggested that we leave her there to recover. I couldn't see how she could take any more, and to be honest, in this recounting of events, I'm not even sure I've accounted for her multiple orgasms accurately. At times I couldn't even tell when one ended and the next began.

Bill and I dressed and went to his kitchen for a beer, and there we talked about what we should do with her next ... not that night, but in the near future. We agreed that it was time to more publicly display her, perhaps even more so than we had done at the restaurant the previous weekend. For my part, of course, I was looking for excuses to have her wear the other slut attire I bought for her and it seemed reasonable to suggest that we take her to dinner again the next night to the same place we had visited the previous weekend. My somewhat naughty thought, I'll admit, was that if she came to be a regular there dressed always as a slut, who knows what 'opportunities' might arise. I had no concrete idea as to what those 'opportunities' might be, but if worse came to worse, it would at least be an opportunity to further erode whatever inhibitions still resided in her about exhibiting herself.

Bill also suggested that I take her tomorrow to a sex shop and buy some of the 'essentials', and I readily agreed, at which point I thought it was time to see how she was doing. Returning to the bedroom, she was still somewhat drawn out but alert. Saying her wrists were getting sore, Bill and I had to agree that it was probably time to release her.

Laying her on the bed, I turned to Bill and asked quite directly whether he was in the mood to fuck her. "Of course" he said while proceeding to undress. I have to admit at this point that there was a certain nasty erotic pleasure ... perhaps even the touch of the sadistic ... in simply asking someone if they wanted to fuck my wife with her laying there, alert. Although Bill had by then fucked her innumerable times, my wife never seemed more like a whore and me her pimp then than at any time before. And that feeling was a definite turn on. I suppose it was for that reason that I especially enjoyed watching him turn her over on the bed with the comment that he wanted her ass again, and immediately pressed his cock into her.

Despite the intense fucking she'd experienced earlier, she immediately responded to the invasion of her butt. But after 4 or 5 thrusts, Bill pulled her hips up off the bed and asked me to shove some pillows under her to hold her ass in the air ... a request I readily fulfilled. It was then that the hard drilling began. Bill would pull back and then slam down hard into her as hard as he could, and with each drive of his cock into her she'd let out a gasp that's difficult to communicate her with any combination of English letters. Time and time again he slammed into her until he had her literally bouncing on the bed but where the timing of his trusts matched her oscillations. It was, in short, the hardest fucking I could imagine a woman getting and it was clear she was going to have one sore asshole after he was done. But sore asshole or not, it was also clear that, after 3 or 4 minutes of this hard fucking, she was again getting ready to cum. Either because Bill sensed this or because of his own needs, Bill finally simply pressed his cock up into her and held it there and told her "cum you little bitch, cum."

I can't say whether it was his words or the pressure of his cock that sent her over the edge, but only seconds after the words left Bill's mouth she let out a scream "arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as she came.

Her orgasm, of course, only led Bill to fill her ass with his own cum and after he pulled out her ass had apparently been so heavily used that whatever Bill shot into her immediately began to leak out. However, I now had a raging hard-on after having witnessed this hard drilling of my wife, and while she was still attempting to catch her breath I turned her over and pressed my cock into her slick wet cunt. This time, though, I kneeled so that I could pull her ass off the sheets to impale her on me. I wanted not only to fuck her but to also play with her still-clamped tits.

With me lightly pulling on the chain connecting her tits as I fucked her she seemed, amazingly, even more alert and excited than when Bill pummeled her ass. With her hands by her sides, her rocking into my cock seemed only to grow more frenzied as I increased the tension in the chain. Each time I gave the chain a tug she'd let out a cry of "ohhhhhhh yessssssss", arching her back to take as much of my cock into her as she could. The harder I pulled, the harder her hips pressed against me until it seemed the clips would literally tear from her tits. Clearly, at least then she craved whatever pain the clips brought her. Suddenly one clip did tear away and with a piercing scream, her back arched tight and and she came.

I don't know about others, but when a slut cums with my cock in her, I find it virtually impossible to not follow suit. Pulling out when I was done, I barely noticed the trickle of cum leaking out of her onto the sheet – I was spent. Bill and I had had enough for the night. The question then was what do to with my wife. Trying to bring her home could take an hour or more ... unwinding, showering, dressing, etc. "Bill, I'm pooped and going to go home for the night. I'll leave her here and if you want to fuck her again or in the morning, feel free to do as you wish."

Naturally, Bill had no objection to my proposal although he admitted he probably wouldn't use her again until morning. My only suggestion before leaving was that he remove the hood and the remaining clip on her tit so she could get a good night's sleep.

Sleeping came easy that night with my wife at Bill's and almost certainly in line to be fucked before I saw her again. That, however, was how I wanted it ... trading her back an forth on occasion as his slut since I seemed to get off almost as much knowing she was being fucked as actually fucking her myself. I have no idea how many other husbands feel the same, but there was always a vicarious pleasure in knowing my wife was being used as someone else's whore. Imagining her thrashing about, moaning and screaming, while someone else's cock was ravaging her cunt or ass was always an instant turn on. How hard Bill would use her then wasn't my concern – all that mattered was that she would be eventually returned as a well-fucked slut.