Cuckold Hotel

"We always fulfil our commissions, Mrs Ashton. The paintball shooting challenge on Wednesday will allow us an excellent opportunity, will it not, Helga?"

Helga nodded. "Ja."

Belinda, largely thanks to Toby, was starting to feel mollified. "Is Mehmet okay?"

"Thankfully, yes. He was wearing his support cup to rest his equipment in between sessions, so there was some bruising but nothing serious. I'm afraid he will be out of commission for a week or two."

Belinda sniffed. "Is Toby available?" She rested her hand on Toby's and looked up at the curly dark-haired man with green eyes and a lazy smile.

"Of course, Mrs Ashton." Madam Poutville clapped her hands and Toby escorted Belinda out, the very model of attentiveness.

"Make sure everything goes smoothly at the paintball event on Wednesday, Helga," instructed Madam Poutville.

"Jawohl!"

That evening the Domaine Epouses arranged a small dinner dance for its guests. Sympathy was extended for Mehmet, condolences for an inconsolable Ivan who burst into tears when dancing with Clarissa, leading several ladies to quietly cancel the 'Viking Experience'.

Belinda's mood had lifted. Toby proved an excellent companion and an exceptional lover. Perhaps Mehmet getting struck in the balls had been karma she thought philosophically as she bounced on top of Toby with Robert snoring softly in the closet.

****

Belinda took breakfast on the terrace with Clarissa, having made her apologies for her prior behaviour.

"Don't mention it, dear, we all get a bit stressed from time to time. Marriage requires give and take and if your husband isn't giving enough for you to take, well," Clarissa shrugged.

"Thank you," Belinda appreciated the older woman's understanding.

"People just don't appreciate the pressures of our lifestyle," Clarissa continued. "A dick less husband, their constant whining, the pretty boys, the endless sex, always having to look our best. Does anyone sympathise with us, the hotwives?"

"Exactly," Belinda agreed with feeling as she dug into her muesli with soya milk.

"Anyway, we're on holiday so let's enjoy it. Have you any plans for today?"

"Not really. Any suggestions?"

"Well I was planning on joining Tina for some, shall we say, downmarket fun?"

Belinda perked up. "Do tell."

"Don't get me wrong, the boys in here are fantastic, but it can be a little too manufactured, too clean. I told you yesterday hubby spent the day in the glory hole, well there are two establishments and as guests, we have the option of being 'dirty wee whores' for an afternoon. Rough, common men poking their cocks into us. It's positively delicious, dirty and decadent!"

"Wouldn't have thought that was your thing," smiled Belinda.

"Oh, darling, the posher the pussy, the dirtier we like it. The man who runs it is positively disgusting and seedy. He's pimping Tina and one of the other wives, Beth, every other day.

"Tina is the?"

"The rather frumpy brunette, with glasses and saggy tits, but she is addicted to cock. Hubby is at his wits end keeping her 'fed' so to speak. It's her turn today she says."

Belinda considered it. Why not, she thought. "After lunch?"

"Excellent. Tight top no bra, short skirt no knickers and put some slap on your face, we are going to be cheap whores for the local peasants!"

Tina's husband John dropped them off outside of a squat blacked out building on the road to town, just off the hotel grounds. John had a resigned air, his wife Tina had tied her mousey brown hair back, her heavy breasts straining against the cheap fabric of her t-shirt. She had a hungry, almost desperate look.

Belinda and Clarissa exchanged glances in the back seat. As they got out of the car, Clarissa whispered: "Told you, the woman is addicted!"

Brushing off her husband's urgings to be careful, Tina stepped out and waved him off before turning to the two women.

"Time for some fun, baby needs cock," her smile was wide and transformed her face.

Clarissa hooked her arm through Tina's "Of course you do, dear." and headed to the staff entrance around the back with Belinda in tow.

The inside seemed oppressively dark after the glare of the naked sun, a solitary red bulb casting gloomy shadows in the corridor.

"Tina!" A male voice boomed. "You've brought company. Clarissa! It's been a while!"

A short fat man filled the entrance to his office, his slick black hair was swept back, and his pockmarked face wore a huge grin with stained teeth.

"Baldassar," greeted Clarissa offering him a cheek to kiss.

"Ah, such a refined lady!" Baldassar groped Clarissa's arse as he ushered her through. His eyes lit upon Belinda, "and who is this fine piece of pussy?"

"This is Belinda, Baldassar," replied Tina, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. She squealed in delight as his fat, greasy fingers reached under her short denim skirt and began fingering her.

"Belinda! Come here!" Without waiting, he crushed her to him, Belinda breathed in sweat and stale wine. His hand dropped to her arse as he kissed her hard. Struggling in his grip, she tried to break free and then felt his hand between her legs. Tina was pouting slightly as Baldassar focused on Belinda.

"Unhand me!" Belinda shrieked.

"A lady with spirit!" His fingers rammed into her wetness as he trapped her between himself and the wall. "You suck cock like Tina, eh?"

Belinda began to weaken as this brute probed her in all the right places. Repulsed and aroused, she nodded. "Yes, I can suck cock like Tina," she gasped.

"I should put you to work, yes? Pimp out your fuck holes for strangers to enjoy? I make good money off you?"

The words 'pimp out' raced like fire through her veins. "Oh, God, yes, pimp me out you, you beast!" she spluttered.

Sinking to her knees, she scrabbled at his dirty jeans and pulled out his hard cock, the scent of stale pussy, making her gag.

"You suck my cock, yes?" It was less a question and more a statement.

"Mmmph!" Belinda said as he pushed his cock into her mouth. A hand reached between her thighs. It belonged to Tina. She was crouched down, trying to kiss his balls.

"Suck his cock, suck him good," breathed Tina, her eyes hard with lust as she rubbed Belinda's pussy.

Nodding, Belinda began throating the Maltese man's cock, this was dirty, nasty sex and she was loving it.

"Ah, you are a sexy piece of pussy!" Baldassar pulled Tina into his groin. "Lick my balls clean, yes? I fuck your friend's face good, and you, stuck up cunt, you rim my arse, yes? Otherwise no cock for posh pussy!"

With a look of feigned distaste, Clarissa joined her companions on their knees and pushed her face into his arse crack. This was a calculated move from Baldassar who knew the older woman loved tonguing his hairy, sweaty arsehole.

Tears and drool running down her face, Belinda struggled to cope with his thrusting but refused to give in or plead with him to stop. Suddenly her mouth was free, she gratefully breathed in warm air, then hot liquid splashed over her face, gumming up one eye.

"Don't wipe!" Baldassar ordered as Belinda instinctively raised her hands. "Does saggy titted whore want Baldassar's cum?"

Tina nodded eagerly, leaning in to lick the thick goo from Belinda's face.

Baldassar stepped out of the triangle of women, Clarrisa gave a small grunt of disappointment.

"Filthy whores!" he spat at them. "Get to work!"

Scrambling to their feet, the afternoon recruits were shepherded out of his office and down the corridor, deeper into the bowels of the building. Opening one of the paint chipped doors, he shoved Tina inside.

"Ten cocks minimum!" he yelled at her. "Strip!"

Tina shucked off her thin t-shirt and stepped out of her skirt in seconds such was her eagerness. She cupped her tits for him. "Fuck me later please, Baldy baby?" she pleaded.

"No! Fifteen cocks and maybe!"

Slamming the door shut he ushered them further down.

"Double booth for you two" he grinned, slapping their arses to get them inside. "Ten cocks, now strip!"

Watching them both as they stripped, he nodded in satisfaction. "Sexy, be a big attraction," Taking out his phone he took waist-high shots for their pics to be displayed for paying customers.

"You suck good, yes?" With that, he closed the door.

A screen showing porn on a loop flickered on, Belinda sank to the floor near her station. It was sticky and the booth smelt of cum and bodily fluids.

Clarissa smiled at her. "Disgusting isn't it?" the thrill in her voice evident.

Nodding, Belinda said: "When does it start?"

"Soon. A light goes on in the booths on the other side when a girl is ready to take cock. Start with sucking. When you get tired, let them have your pussy."

The afternoon sun crawled across the sky, baking the booth and its naked contents with its heat. The small ceiling fan barely stirred the heavy, fetid atmosphere inside. Gulping down some tepid water, Belinda watched the blades circulating overhead, their rhythmic swoosh and the stale air making her drowsy. She groaned as another fat cock thrust itself through the hole, barking for attention. Riveluts of sweat ran freely down her body. How long had she been confined? She groaned again, her belly heavy with cum.

Clarissa had her arse pressed against the opening, moving rhythmically as she fucked her unseen client, her toned body glistening with sweat and oils.

"You! New pussy! Keep sucking cock!" Baldassar yelled over the intercom, making Belinda jump.

"Give them your pussy, dear. Think of it as a yoga session with cock, and this heat really does sweat off the holiday pounds," advised Clarissa.

Crawling to her station, Belinda slipped a condom on the cock and swivelled round to present her pussy to the customer. Blinking away the sweat stinging her eyes, she reached through her legs and guided the cock into her.

"That's it, girl!" Clarissa urged. "Can't have these people thinking English pussy can't hack the pace!"

Gritting her teeth, Belinda grimaced up at the CCTV camera and started banging the cock thrusting inside her

"Better!" Baldassar yelled. "Keep fucking!"

Beside her, Clarissa began chanting her mantra. "Om shanti, om shanti, om shanti!"

It was another hour before they were released, both women staggered out sucking in the stale air of the corridor.

Carrying their clothes, they were escorted back to the office where Baldassar was fucking Tina on his desk, her boobs gyrating in opposite directions like melting jello.

"Fuck me, Baldy baby, fill my baby maker with your cum, give me your babies!" Tina screamed.

"Ah!" He boomed. I screw this whore then I screw you? No screw, no money," he added with a sly grin.

"No thanks," replied Clarissa with a haughty sniff. Belinda shook her head. She was exhausted, sweaty and just wanted a long shower.

Baladasar roared with laughter as he went back to fucking Tina. "Posh pussy thinks she too good for Baldassar, but not too good to lick his arsehole!"

He dismissed them with a wave and the two naked women made their way outside. As they dressed, Tina's husband pulled up with his habitual anxious look.

"Where's Tina?" He asked.

"Getting fucked by Baldassar and begging for him to impregnate her," replied Clarissa.

"Desperate to have his seed in her belly," added Belinda nastily.

"Oh no, not another one of his blasted offspring!" With that, he dashed into the building.

"Let's sit in the shade, dear. Think it could be a while before Tina's husband can drag her away" said Clarissa.

****

The morning of the paintball event saw most of the guests in attendance, alongside their chosen companions for the day. In the distance were their husbands, loosely chained and naked.

The event was billed as a way of working through the tensions that sharing a life with a cuckold invariably brought. It made the bonds of marriage stronger and was, as Clarrisa was fond of saying, 'jolly good fun'. Besides, inflicting a spot of pain never did anyone any harm. Well, no one that mattered.

Belinda was tense as she was handed a rifle by Stefan. He coached her through the technique and there was a satisfying splat and scream from Robert as he clasped his stomach.

"A little too high, Mrs Ashton." murmured Stefan, holding her as he passed her another rifle. "Breath in, and squeeze."

Belinda tittered and rubbed her self against him, her shot going wild.

"Try this one," said Stefan. He handed her a rifle with a yellow stripe on the stock. "Take careful aim, Mrs Ashton," he added with a wink.

Smiling, Belinda did so, and with a triumphant: "Goodbye, you useless faggot," she squeezed the trigger.

With another yelp, Robert rubbed his chest and frowned unhappily.

"What the?" Belinda muttered in confusion.

Suddenly a loud bang came from her right. Clarissa looked startled as her husband collapsed to the ground and lay there, groaning.

Fearing the worse an exasperated Clarissa turned to Antonio. "It was only supposed to blow his bloody balls off!"

Belinda, stiff with fury, watched the husbands milling around in a panic. She handed her rifle back to Stefan.

"Can you run and inform Madam Poutville that I wish to see her in her office right away," she told Stefan with exaggerated calm.

"Right away, Mrs Ashton," Stefan bobbed and scurried off.

"I assure you, Mrs Ashton, I am at a loss to explain!" A harassed Madam Poutville stammered some fifteen minutes later.

"A full refund and I shall be taking my leave. I shall be also leaving a very scathing review on your website. It's simply not good enough. My own fault. I should have known, one simply cannot trust the French."

Madam Poutville quivered with outrage, only the fact that she had indeed failed to deliver quelled her angry retort.

"If I may," interrupted Helga.

"Please," said Madam Poutville, gratefully.

"I understand your husband is a keen sailor in which case I will offer to take him sailing tomorrow on the pretext of allowing you to enjoy yourself without his insufferable presence. Once we are in the open water, then," she shrugged.

Belinda considered this. "It will be done?"

"Ja." Helga exuded Germanic efficiency.

"Well. Until tomorrow then. Madame Poutville, Helga." Belinda swept out the office, satisfied.

****

Robert blinked at his wife's overt concern in the lobby. "Be careful, darling, I do so worry when you are out at sea," she said.

"You do?" This was news to Robert.

"Of course, dear," Belinda said loudly. "Be safe and enjoy yourself." With an effort, Belinda kissed her husband on the cheek and waved him goodbye.

"Remember your life jacket, dear," she called out, "you sometimes forget to put it on!"

Grabbing a drink off a tray one of the waiters was carrying, Belinda took a large mouthful and then spat it out into one of the large lobby planters, erasing the taste, if not the memory, of that kiss on the cheek.

Madam Poutville caught Belinda's eye from behind the desk and nodded. Frostily, Belinda returned the nod and mouthed 'final chance', before retiring to the poolside.

The tragic news came just after lunch. A grim faced Madam Poutville called Belinda into the office and regretted to inform her that her husband had been lost at sea. Helga had valiantly tried to save him but to no avail. Belinda's anguished cries could be heard all over the hotel, helped by the office door being left open.

Dabbing her eyes, Belinda put her hand over Helga's. "I don't blame you, dear. I'm sure you did your best. Robert could be headstrong and reckless, it's how he would have wished to have gone. A man against the cruel elements."

"I extend my heartfelt condolences for your loss, Mrs Ashton," said Madam Poutville.

"Thank you. You are very kind. I think I'll retire to my room. The shock you know."

"Of course, is there anything we can do, Mrs Ashton?"

"No, no. I just want to mourn the loss of my rock, my anchor."

"Naturally." Madam Poutville helped the distressed woman to her feet.

"There is one thing," sniffed Belinda.

"Of course, just say the word."

"Could you send Toby up to my room? I may need someone to lean on, to help me get me through this."

"At once."

"Oh, and perhaps Stefan as well?"

"Consider it done."

"And Bobby too. Such a sweet, kind boy."

"A wise choice, Mrs Ashton."

Belinda smiled tearful thanks. "I think maybe some champagne to calm my nerves? Oh, and chocolates, I hear chocolate helps in cases of shock."

"I will arrange everything, Mrs Ashton. You can always rely on the service at the Domaine Epouse." Madam Poutville added meaningfully.

Toby arrived and helped Belinda to her room, where he and his fellow companions strove night and day to comfort the grieving widow during this difficult time.

****

Barely a month after the tragic events at the Domaine Epouse, a taxi pulled up outside a small lodge in the Black Forest region of Germany. The driver politely helped the rounded, rather plain woman out of the car and carried her luggage to the door, which swung open as he deposited the cases.

"Liebchen" the occupant enveloped the woman in a big hug and showered kisses on her beaming face.

Robert returned the embrace and the kisses, then helped Helga in with his luggage. The smell of bratwurst and pumpernickel bread filled the lodge, reminding Robert how hungry he was.

Adjusting his wig he sat down at the wooden table while Helga fussed over him.

Yes, he had cleared and transferred all the funds he had been defrauding from his firm. No, the funds can't be traced and his 'death' would likely mean they stopped any investigations.

His lover stooped to smother him in more kisses and insist he finish his pumpernickel. Placing a stein of frothing cold lager beside him, she then clasped Robert to her large bosom, whispering sweet endearments.

Robert and Helga met two summers ago, she was on a hiking holiday in the Yorkshire Dales and had stopped at a small pub for lunch. Robert was eating there whilst travelling between offices, making sure his fraudulent schemes ran undetected.

She had been dressed in a flannel shirt, shorts and sturdy hiking boots. He, an ill-fitting suit and comfy loafers. Their eyes met over the 'scampi in a basket', and it had been love at first sight.

A torrid holiday romance ensued as Robert claimed mechanical failure left him stranded in the Dales for the day and 'stomach flu' necessitated his absence for the rest of the week.

Robert adored her sturdy figure and mannish looks, Helga loved his weak, flabby body and pegging him up the arse with her collection of dildos. They kept in touch over the next two years, cooing over the phone and enjoying stolen afternoons of romantic bliss in hotel rooms from Grimsby to Cleethorpes.

They were a perfect match. He possessed the cunning to hatch the long term plan, she the practical skills to put things in motion and to make sure no harm befell him at the Domaine Epouse, and finally, fake his demise.

As Robert tucked into his German sausage, he caught the glint in Helga's eye and smiled back. With a coquettish kiss, she disappeared to return a few minutes later, oiled and naked save for the bulbous and eye wateringly large strap-on.

Eagerly Robert stood, hitched up his skirt and pulled down his frilly bloomers, before bending over the kitchen table.

"Liebchen, oh my liebchen," Helga sighed contently and then thrust the strap-on deep into her lovers willing bottom.

Robert's loud cries of pleasure startled cawing ravens into the air from the surrounding trees. It was the joyous cry of a man reunited at last, and forever, with his one true love, his soulmate, his blessing, his Helga.