Consequences of an Affair Pt. 04

My house sold within two weeks. As I was completely out of the house and it was cleaned professionally, I banked a payment of $1.27 million dollars. I insisted that Ling take her professional commission. Officially, I was suddenly homeless. In reality, I was housed in Ling's home. Sleeping in her bed, with her. Eating at her table, with her. Bathing in her bathroom, with her. Entertaining Janice about every other day, with both of them.

Not searching for a job. I wanted to remain self-employed and free, except for total support of the two wedded sluts I'd had, over and over again.

To this end, I looked for an office/workshop, to pursue some of my more 'eclectic' projects. It turns out that the building that housed Ling's Realty practice had two other areas to lease. The one on the outside housed a hypnotherapist, but the center office was vacant. The monthly rent was reasonable (for San Diego that is ... outrageous anywhere else), so I moved myself in. I added a bed in the curtained back, along with a simple kitchen and a pre-fab shower plus new toilet. That, along with a reading lamp and recliner chair, was all a single man would need in his workshop. After all, I wasn't going to entertain or have girlfriends over, since the only women I was interested in were right next door.

Maybe I could contact the owner of the building to let me cut a connecting door to their office.

Ling and Janice were delighted, although a little mystified as to what I really did. What did I do? Well, I puttered around with 'thinking-out-of-the-box' projects.

I started with Ling. Her legs were shortened due to a car accident, which sheared them off. Legs cut off above the critical knee joint. Just two delicious, sensitive thighs, ending in a knob of tissue, covering a fused bone end, inside her ... damnit, I don't want to call them 'stumps.' The accident forced her to be dependent on wheel- and power-chairs, at her business and inside her own home.

So what to do about that?

After setting up portable worktables, chairs, computers and graphic design software, I got to work. First thing was to measure Ling's legs, hips, waist and then her 'stride.'

Huh? She doesn't have a 'stride,' because she doesn't have knees, lower legs, or feet. OK, but she does have two lovely thighs and functioning hip joints. So start there. Living at Ling's house, it was easy to get in a roll of newsprint and pads of ink, plus painter's-tape.

I set up, while the little wanton slut watched from her low couch, totally nude (just the way I liked her, which was exactly the way she wanted to be). I unrolled a strip of white newsprint paper in front of her, while I gently attached a couple of ink pads to the bottom ends of her leg ends with wide painter's tape.

I said, "OK, pretty girl, hop off the couch and onto the paper. Now, while I help hold you steady, just walk forward. The ink pads will leave a mark where each of your thigh ends hits the paper."

Ling took a short 'step' forward, then another. The distance she covered with each thigh movement was less than 12". I felt her body fighting to stay upright against my hand and arm, as she gritted her teeth to 'walk' forward to the end of the paper. There, I picked up my little Asian girlfriend-lover and carried her back to the couch. After settling Ling back on the couch, I carefully labeled the sheet of paper and laid it aside, to make sure the smudges of ink were dry.

Next, we did it again, but this time, without my hand or arm. Ling was able to stagger about 3 to 4 steps, but then she'd fall over to one side or the other. A few times, she fell forward, and twice, she fell back. I was there to catch her each time. Not necessarily a bad thing, because I had a tangle of golden-skinned Asian woman in my arms, bare pussy fully on display. She was giggling uncontrollably when I said we were finished, for now, and labeled the sheets of paper as to each experiment.

I got the ink pads off her leg ends, pulling the painter's tape off her lovely skin. That only took 4 times as long as it should have, because Ling kept dragging my face down into her pussy for licking and clit sucking. She had an orgasm, then two more. She squirted.

When she tried to press me for details, I just said, "Not yet. Next, we've got to get you to a sexy lingerie store, to look for garter belts."

"What?" she said, unnecessarily adding, "I don't have any way to keep my stockings up and I can't wear them anyway. Why a garter belt?" I merely smiled and looked mysterious.

There was a sexy underthings store in the downtown area, and I got my Ling there. The lady behind the counter was surprised, but showed my pretty girl some of her offerings. I measured the straps coming from the belt to the top of the stockings, and bought Ling a couple of the expensive—but very comfortable—ones from France. Of course, then I had to buy two more quarter-cup bras and an imported 'baby-doll' nightie, made of black lace gauze. The bras held up her boobs while concealing exactly nothing. The nightie sort-of looked like solid smoke and concealed nothing, either, while looking sexy as hell.

When we got back to her house, she put on both the bra and the nightie, then demanded that I rape her to death. I tried, I really tried, but the material resisted my efforts to rip it off her body, as it was a lot stronger than it looked. I couldn't turn either piece into rags, although I tried. Along with shoving my fevered cock deeply into her flowing wetness, as she screamed and thrashed under me, on that couch. She blasted squirt all over that piece of furniture and over me.

Much later, the next day, she was in her Realty office (next door), while I analyzed her 'stride' and her 'gait.' People don't realize just how critical feet, ankles, calves and especially knees are to walking balance. Without the constant but unconscious feedback, standing upright or walking in two shortened limbs is a challenge of balance and coordination. For instance, she slid forward on her leg ends, rather than lifting the feet she didn't have, any more.

My job, if you can call it that, was to assist that effort. I eventually designed a 'shoe' that fit over each of her leg-ends. It allowed a forward slide but resisted a backward slide. The interior and exterior padding was thicker to the outside, front and back of that 'shoe,' without looking clunky or something from a 'rehabilitation' catalog. The garter belt was the key. I attached the end ring-clips, front and back, to a short web of strings to hold the 'shoes' to her leg-ends, which led to the expensively, lace, barely-there garter belt.

There in the Realty office, with Janice helping—not needing sight, just support—I fitted the 'shoes to Ling's leg-ends. Then we got her off the low office couch and she took her first 'steps'. A bit unsteady, she 'walked' across the width of the office, holding to both of our hands, but not completely falling over to either side or to front or back. On the way back, Ling let go of our hands and walked over to the door and back.

Then she cried! Tears soaking her classic Chinese Qui-Po dress. Deep, racking sobs, as she called out, "I can walk again! Oh, damnit, I can walk again! I don't have to always use the wheel-chair. I can get around on my own. I have more freedom. I can WALK AGAIN!""

Still crying, as if she'd never see the sun rise again, she added, "What can I do to ever re-pay you, Mike? This is the biggest, best gift you could give me. I can walk. What more can I do for you, 'cause, if you say, I'll do it. Whatever. Just say the word and I'm yours."

I just grinned and said, "You can—with Janice's OK—add me to your 'wed-lease,' so that I can get on with pleasuring and supporting the both of you. Right now, I'm free, but I don't want to be. So make me part of your 'family,' please."

Ling looked over at Janice, who was only partly dressed and stripping herself of the rest of her clothes, who said, "Yes!".

Then I was stripped, assaulted and raped by two demon sluts, intent of ending my manhood and life by mutual suffocation and sexual pleasure. Ling was stripped bare, only a few moments behind Janice, as she shed her armless, semi-Chinese Qui-Po outfit.

What can I say? I was literally raped by two Sex Goddesses, intent on melding me into their 'leased' family, one thrust ... one caress ... one clit-lick ... one cock-suck ... one pussy-fingering at a time. Slowly and with infinite care, they both devoured my manhood, surrounding my rigid shaft and straining cock-head with tongued affection and care. Stroking and tugging on that same shaft, as they shifted its focus from one womanly opening to another.

I was treated to a short-limb centered pussy, sitting on my face and suffocating me until I had to gasp for breath. Then treated to a gaping view of a lust-inflamed vaginal opening—held wide open by the fingers of two hands—dribbling sex-juices down a Chinese thigh, while my cock was buried inside a downward-thrusting bundle of blind lust, operating at something like 60 thrusts per minute.

I screamed 'slut' at them and they agreed, verbally screaming, "Both of us." They also answered non-verbally with their bodies, writhing and slithering over mine, now slippery and sticky with female secretions and drool.

I tried to hold out, but failed within several minutes, as I came, shooting several loads into and onto their quivering bodies.

Later, exhausted, they showed me their 'Marital Lease' agreement. It was, as they said, well-written enough to stand up in court (not that it would ever come to that), but explicit in the extreme, without ever becoming dirty or gross. Ling agreed to find a way to write me into a new agreement, where Janice would edit it. Then I was to read it over, suggest changes, if any, and then sign it in the presence of a notary.

Right from the get-go, I insisted that I could bring in a sufficient money amount to the 'Lease,' to be held in an escrow account for 'emergencies,' so that I could be a contributing member of the agreement.

This sparked an additional round of penis worship, where I discovered that even a limp, fucked-out cock could be stimulated by a pair of lusty wenches.

A week later, in the presence of their notary, I signed and was then 'wedded' to both my new women. I. H.Ling, Janice Atkins and Mike McCorkindale were a family, within a new Marital Lease agreement, for the next 2 years.

END OF PART 4