The Transformation of Betty Ch. 05

And that was precisely how she was returned late the next morning. Nevertheless, to maintain my authority, I told her without indicating that Bill and I had discussed things, that she was being taken once again to the restaurant we had visited the previous weekend so that we could again display her as a slut. Her only response was to ask me what she should wear and I told her "your sheer gown, platform heels and nothing else!" With that announcement I left so she could attend to whatever chores she had that day and I could explore several sex shops in the city for the toys I thought we needed. My purchases that day were numerous. It seems that its easy to get carried away when one's wife is a slut and there is virtually no toy that cannot be used on her. The first store I visited however was devoted primarily to videos with a minimal selection of anything else ... one wall of prepackaged toys. But the second offered an array of toys that exceeded even my lurid imagination. In any event, in addition to a nice thick 8" vibe, tweezer nipple clips, riding crop and two pair of padded leather cuffs, I also bought a remote vibrating egg and a leather collar that buckled in back with a chrome ring in front. I'll admit to being tempted by other things such as the ring gag and a pair of latex panties with built in dildos for her ass and cunt, but I resisted them with the logic that it would be best to introduce my wife incrementally to things. I also felt a little strange dumping the pile on the clerk's counter, since he must have thought I was opening a store myself. I also checked out the leather hoods, but decided we could make do with Bill's and although I nearly succumbed to the impulse to splurge on a leather corset, their cost set me back a bit: 'that's for another time and another paycheck' I decided.

The most expensive thing I bought was the vibrating egg even though I wasn't sure it would have the hoped-for effect. So upon returning home I showed my wife my purchases I told her to put the egg in her cunt and to continue doing whatever she was doing (which in that case was simply folding the laundry). I had a few things to do then around the house, but I slipped the remote into my pocket. After 5 minutes or so, I turned it on with my wife in a different room ... 'might as well test the range of this thing'. I heard nothing and assumed she was continuing with her chores. After three of four minutes I turned it off, then on again 5 minutes later. This time I left it on and returned to the house from the garage, only to find her simply standing there with her hands on the washing machine, eyes closed. Walking up to her I put my hand on her ass, my index finger pushing her dress between the cheeks of her ass, and ordered "cum, whore."

"God yesssssssssssssssssss ..." she groaned, clenching her fists as her cunt went into the convulsion she craved.

Delighted with my purchase I told her even as she stood there recovering "take the egg out but wear it tonight." With that suggestion I was taking it on faith that she didn't need panties to keep it in her ... which fortunately turned out to be true.

That evening, after I'd slipped the collar and remote into my pocket, Bill arrived at our house since we weren't about to let my wife walk to his thru the neighborhood wearing fuck me heels and her semi-sheer dress. Remember, after all, that this was the dress that not only became sheer when stretched by her body and whatever modesty it provided was accomplished by the fabric's dizzying blaze of colors, but had a slit up the back that let anyone see the inside of her thighs to where they came to her ass.

As soon as Bill arrived I had her model the dress again for us, and seeing again that once one looked past the fabric, my wife's nipples and the well trimmed hair at her cunt were visible, I commented "I hope this isn't too much."

Bill's only comment was that it was ok for this restaurant, but he didn't think we'd want to take her to the shopping mall in it. I then told him what she had in her cunt and his response was simply "can I borrow the controls for the drive there?" Handing him the controls, he suggested that my wife sit alone in the backseat. I immediately grasped the purpose of his suggestion, and indeed, it was an interesting and different drive to our destination. Bill's intent was not to make my wife cum, but to bring her to the edge and keep her there throughout the ride: "We're going to have one hot horney little slut when we get there."

Occasionally glancing in my rearview mirror while Bill sat in the passenger seat with the controls on his lap, I could see my wife, eyes closed, leaning back in her seat breathing heavily with an occasional groan or whimper. Bill's only command was "don't touch your cunt, slut" and so never was she brought to the point of making whatever sounds she usually made when having a good cum. Occasionally he'd turn around, reach back and give one of her tits a squeeze with a comment such as "bet yu could use a good fuck right now." No doubt he was absolutely right. By the time we arrived at the restaurant, its safe to say we did in fact have a truly hot slut in the backseat who craved a good hard fuck.

I think even valet service could tell she was hot – I can't imagine they couldn't. Bill, however, opted to be generous and turned the vibe off as soon as she exited the car. I, on the other hand, decided to add some additional to the evening and, taking the collar from my pocket, buckled it around her neck before entering the restaurant. Bill was delighted: "Fantastic! That and her dress tell people what she is."

By sheer coincidence we were led past the bar and seated at the same table as before, with the same waiter who, unsurprisingly, immediately recognized us. Unable to keep his eyes off my wife or, more precisely, from subtly discernable nipples of her tits, he greeted us with a simple "welcome back."

Bill by that time had, per my request, handed the remote back to me and, sensing that my wife was beginning to calm down, I flicked it on as the waiter passed out our menus. I'm not sure my wife's reaction at that point was recognizable to anyone besides me – knowing that your wife has a vibe humming away in her cunt does alert you to the tell-tale signs of a bitch in heat – but I could see her tense just a bit and fumble with her 'thank you' as she took the menu from the waiter. I was, admittedly, debating in my mind whether to keep the vibe on, but decided to play Bill's little game of simply keeping her at the edge. Turning it off I leaned over and asked her quietly "how's my slut's cunt now?"

"You're going to want me to me cum here, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course ... but you knew that well before we got here, didn't you?"

"Yes .. I did" was her straightforward reply.

"Well, you will cum when we want you to cum, and not before" I answered, flicking the vibe on, but only for 15 seconds or so ... enough to emphasize the fact that I, in effect, controlled her cunt.

Having arrived a little later than last time, the band was already playing and when started its first new number after we had ordered our entrees I suggested that Bill take my wife to the dance floor. I should tell you now that even if nothing else occurred, the image she offered then was wholly salacious. With one arm held tightly around her waist, and my wife's arms around Bill's neck, the dress rode up an inch or so ... enough to give any who chose to look a view of the very bottom cheeks of her ass as they began to form their cleavage. I was concerned, in fact, that if the dress rode any higher the restaurant's management would in some way intervene. I nevertheless couldn't resist flicking the remote on, and watched her visibly tense up. But while I quickly turned the vibe off, I decided to have a little fun as Bill had done when driving to the restaurant. Turning the vibe back on, I set the remote down and sat back to watch.

Her outward initial reaction was little more than it had been before ... tensing a bit and holding Bill tight. But after 30 seconds or so her eyes closed and it seemed almost as if Bill were holding her up. I wasn't sure if she had cum, and learned later that she hadn't yet but was instead concentrating on not making any noises. Bill knew precisely what was happening, and all the time he held her, as he related to me later, he whispered such things as 'I love it when people look at your ass' and 'bet you could use a hard cock right now'. Bill had lowered his hand a bit so as to rest it on her ass while his other hand, pressed between them, squeezed her tit. Whether she could cum from the egg alone remained then an unanswered question. But the triple sensations of the buzzing in her cunt, Bill's hand holding her ass, and the subtle fondling of her tits was enough to do the trick. Within a minute she literally stopped dancing while continuing to hold tightly onto Bill and it was then I knew she was cumming.

Fortunately for her she still had enough self-control not to make a noise, but one could tell as Bill led her back to our table that she was visibly shaken.

When she arrived and with the vibe now turned off, I greeted her with "have a good cum, slut?"

"Yesssss..." she responded, almost seemingly ashamed it had happened.

Then telling her that that wouldn't be the last time tonight, her only response was a hushed "I know."

It was only after we had finished our meal and after the band had taken at least one break that I gave Bill the remote, announcing that "the next dance is mine."

Its easy to forget in all of this the varied stares my wife got going to and coming from the dance floor, not to mention when she was on the floor itself. It wasn't a long walk between our table and the floor and the view anyone enjoyed as she passed was fleeting ... only enough to wet the imagination and make men wonder 'is that really her tits and cunt I'm seeing'. On the dance floor itself, however, there was ample opportunity to see that what flashed into view were the bottom cheeks of her bare ass and that the slut was wearing neither panties not a bra. Keep in mind, moreover, the collar around her neck which, when people saw her sitting between Bill and I or dancing with one or the other of us, signaled clearly that she was shared.

One could reasonably ask, of course, as to whether I might have preferred to have her there by myself. I can say now that this was not that last time we visited that particular establishment, nor was it always the case that Bill and I were there together with her. But on this occasion at least there was a certain vicarious pleasure in having people know she was not simply a slut, but one that was at the disposal of both of us. That might seem to run counter to the presumed male instinct to visibly lay claim to his property. However, for whatever reason I never felt that Bill was laying claim to my wife ... only that he sought to transform and train her as a slut. And so even early on in our relationship I was able in public places such as a restaurant to focus not on any feelings of insecurity but rather wholly on displaying her and emphasizing her status as a slut.

In any event, my chance to dance with her couldn't come soon enough, and like me, Bill wasted no time turning the vibe on once we began. Her reactions paralleled what I observed when with Bill: tensing, holding tighter, and breathing that grew noticeably heavier. "Cunt throbbing, slut?" I whispered. "Yesssssss..."

"Do you like showing your bare ass to the people at the tables?" I asked, exaggerating a bit as to what they could see.

"Oh god" was her embarrassed reply. Suddenly she tensed again and I knew Bill had turned the vibe back on. "Please" she moaned without making any specific request..

"Cunt ready to explode, whore?"

"Yesssssssss ..." she replied, with her breathing now deep and labored.

"Like your new little toy?"

"I don't know ... oh goddddd ... I'm not sure ... It's embarrassing."

"Shall we find someone to fuck you?" I asked, now pushing on her the image of being a whore.

"I need to cum ... pleaseeeee" she replied, avoiding my question.

"Shall we find someone to fuck you?" I asked again, pressing for an answer.

"I don't care ... I'm going to cummm."

With my hand now resting firmly on her ass and letting her feel my hardened cock against her I suddenly pulled her harder still and told her "then cum you little whore." As with Bill I felt her sag against me in a way that let me know that if I had let go she might actually have fallen to the floor, followed by the soft silent convulsions in her stomach and the extra deep breaths she too to control any noise that might come from her. The dance, however, had not ended and Bill apparently was not about to give her any opportunity to recover. As soon as she had seemed to regain her composure, she tensed and leaned hard against me again. This time there was no silence, but instead a deep intake of breath and a whispered "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

`Two dances, three cums ... not bad' I thought to myself, already feeling that my investment in the remote vibe had been returned in full. Returning again to our table I felt it was time to display her further and, following the route she had taken the previous weekend, I told her to walk past the bar to the lady's room.

More than one pair of eyes from other tables and the bar followed her around until she slipped past the door of the restroom. "That's quite a dress," Bill commented as he handed me back the remote.

"Close to being over the top, I think."

"Yes, close. People can obviously tell she's a slut and possibly even a whore, but definitely not a cheap one."

"I just hope her cunt doesn't get so wet that the egg falls out." "Yes, that would be embarrassing," Bill noted with a wry smile.

This time when my wife exited the restroom and walked past the bar she paused to answer, I surmised, a question or two from one of the men sitting there. The pause lasted less than a minute, but needless to say my curiosity was peaked and when she returned I asked what had been said.

"He told me I looked delicious and asked if you two shared me. I told him yes, between the two of you. Then he asked if you shared me with others. I told him you hadn't yet."

"Yet is a big word, isn't it?"

"Yes, I know."

"And what specifically do you know?"

"I know that eventually you and Bill are going to have other men fuck me?"

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I don't know ... a little scared ... a little ashamed" – ashamed, no doubt, because the idea did turn her on.

"The idea of letting yourself be used like a whore?"

"Yes"

"Some people here doubtlessly already think you are one."

"Yes, I know."

"And that turns you on?"

Whatever modesty she still retained seemed to show then, yet her answer was still a 'yes'.

"And did it excite you, standing there at the bar answering his questions, knowing that it all likelihood he could see that you were naked under that dress?"

"Yes."

"And you'd fuck him if we told you to?"

"If you told me to, yes Sir" she replied, slipping back into the formal mode of a submissive slut. Of course, I had no intention of making such an arrangement. Even though this all occurred before any AIDS scare, disease and her physical safety were always a concern.

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"No, not really Sir."

"Well, we won't make you fuck him ... this time" I acknowledged, with the emphasis on 'this time', whereupon I stood up to lead her back to the dance floor. With this dance, however, I grew a little more daring. Rather than simply hold her tight around the waist and to let her gown assume in back whatever position it wanted to take, I subtly moved it up an inch or so with my fingertips knowing that those seated at the tables nearby were now going to see something more than the very tops of the back of her legs and thighs. At the same time I could tell that Bill had again turned on the vibe in her cunt. It might have been long enough and with sufficient distractions for her to forgot it was in her and this little reminder caused her to gasp 'ohhhhhhhhhh' as it switched on.

With my hand pressed between us and resting firmly on a tit we silently danced as Bill played with the remote. And play he did, turning it off immediately after her initial reaction then on again 10 or 15 seconds later. It was almost as if it was Bill dancing with her, because as she began to heat up and moan softly into my ear "oh godddddd", he turned it off again, leaving her there on the edge. She was now literally clutching me around the neck and it was 15 seconds later that he again turned it back on. With my hand now pressed firmly against her ass so she could feel my hardened cock I had the feeling that if I wanted to fuck her right there on the dance floor she'd be unable to resist. Then suddenly there was that telltale sharp intake of breath to announce a soft gentle cum. I could feel her tremble against me, but not being able to see her face, I wondered if anyone watching could tell the pleasure she was in.

She seemed to relax moments before the dance ended, at which point I led her back to our table. "Have a nice cum?" Bill asked.

Still recovering, she could only answer yes as she slowly, delicately sat down.

For the next hour or so Bill and I occasionally played with the remote while she sat between us. The ability of the vabe to make her cum, however, seemed to wear off a bit. Although it certainly kept her wet, she achieved two more orgasms only when Bill or I added the sensation of a hand running up her leg under the table to the vicinity of her cunt. However, what Bill and I noticed was that the man at the bar who she had talked to briefly on her return from the restroom was still seated there making what seemed to be a not altogether successful attempt at picking up one of the unattached women. Nevertheless, despite the attention he paid to her, he would glance over at our table to give my wife a good hard look, and there was little doubt but that he'd love the chance to fuck her.

With or without the attention he paid her, however, we decided it was time to put her on display again and for her to take another walk to the restroom. This, of course, she did, but when she was gone, and much to my surprise, the guy walked over to our table. "I hope you don't take offense at this, but the woman you're with is really hot. She told me you two are fucking her and I was wondering if you'd be interested in sharing her further."

I wasn't sure how Bill would have answered the question, but since I wasn't yet prepared to let others fuck her, I immediately answered "no, not really." It would also probably surprise most people to know that, despite all that had transpired in the past two weeks and despite having so explicitly put my wife on display, I was actually taken aback by his question. I truly hadn't resolved in my might precisely what I meant when either calling my wife a whore or promising to make her one. I wasn't sure then, in fact, that I'd ever be able to resolve this issue. But at the same time I thought that maybe it was time to extend her experiences as a slut and for her to suck someone off -- if only to let her know she WAS a slut we could share at our discretion. And so I added, almost without thinking, "but we'd have no objection to her sucking you off if you'd like that."

"Sounds good to me" he immediately replied.

Having made the commitment it was now up to me to find a way to implement things. "We'll be leaving shortly and when you see us get up from the table, why don't you meet us in the parking lot. We left the car with their valet but we know where its parked. Follow us and meet us there." I wasn't sure of course as to whether he would take me up on my offer, but after he again took his seat at the bar and my wife returned from the restroom I simply said "let's get the bill and go."