Post-Nuptial Agreement Ch. 01-02

The door opened into a wide open space featuring white stone flooring. Dark wood and black upholstered furniture was arranged to suggest a dining area and living room but nothing interrupted the space except for odd clear columns with dark cores. Based on their spacing Violet assumed they were supports for the floor above. A wide spiral staircase sat in the center of the space, the only other thing breaking up the view. A wooden wall did cut the space off before it went the length of the building, with one section set up as a bar and another appearing to be a cafeteria serving spot; Violet could see a whole mess of stainless steel appliances and utensils behind the darker opening.

"This is what I call the observation deck," Darren explained, "It's the first floor of the house and where I usually greet any visitors or guests. Also where I hold parties, obviously. Upstairs is the living area. That's divided much more traditionally, with a separate and more modest kitchen, intimate dining room, slightly larger dining room I would use for family if I had any, plush living room, and of course the ten bedrooms and four baths, not counting the master suite."

"I know you're rich," Violet said, trying to keep herself from snapping or yelling, "As you enjoyed shoving in my face this morning, it's why I married you."

"I'm simply giving you a description of the apartment, dear," Darren said, "Since the other times you've visited it's been to the summer cottage."

"You call that a cottage?" Violet asked.

Darren shrugged. "As you pointed out, I'm rich," he said, "If you don't want me to give you a tour, you should go up and pick one of the rooms for yourself."

"I don't get to stay in the Master?" she asked acerbically.

"Of course you do," Darren replied, "But I also know of your fondness for clothes, and there is only so much closet space, even in the master bedroom. I assumed you'd like to have a separate room as a walk-in closet of sorts. Oddly enough that wasn't one of the amenities built into this apartment."

"Oh," Violet said, now off balance. She'd been expecting more demanding and near abusive behavior, but Darren seemed to be polite and almost friendly now that they were home.

"You should also wash up. Use the master bath; the materials I mentioned this morning should be available. Then I'd like you to wear the lingerie you had on last night."

Violet froze. "Um...I don't...I think I forgot some of it."

"You mean Mister Monroe kept them as trophies," Darren deadpanned, "Don't worry; I had copies procured and laid out on the bed. Don't bother looking for the panties, though; they aren't included. Meet me in the living room. It's the one at the top of the stairs."

Violet made her way to the staircase and up. As Darren mentioned, the décor of the upper level was very different from the lower; plush cream carpeted floors, darker wood walls, and smaller rooms. Recessed strips of light gave a soft, almost intimate glow to all of the rooms, though there seemed to be more overhead lighting if a room needed to be brighter. The living room was maybe a quarter the size of the room below but still bigger than any room Violet had seen in a house, and it alone was larger than any apartment her friends had. Black leather furniture of all types was arranged in small groups around the room, with wooden end and coffee tables that matched the walls. Cubby holes lined the lower part of those walls, alternately empty or housing books, plants, decorations, and drinking materials.

She wanted to look more but Darren's footfalls started echoing up to her from the stairway and she scurried down the hallway he'd mentioned. Art lined the walls between doors, including a few tables with vases or sculptures on them, though Violet didn't know if any of it was famous or authentic; beyond obviously famous pieces like the Mona Lisa or the painting of the lines and the colored boxes Violet knew almost nothing about art.

She went to the double-doors at the end of the hallway and paused as she felt a sting in her eyes. She let herself wonder what it would have been like to see Darren fling the doors open triumphantly and carry her across the threshold like a real bride, her still in her dress returning from a loving wedding night. Instead she pulled one door open just enough to slip in.

Inside, the carpet changed to deep mahogany. Unusually, the bed sat next to the door and the foot of it faced away, though the reason was obvious; at the opposite end of the room was the floor to ceiling window overlooking Atlanta. While some buildings were near the same height, none were close enough to really block the view of their tower. When Violet stopped taking in the view, she noticed the bed was a four-poster and larger than any she'd seen, something that was becoming a running theme for this place. She tentatively touched the comforter and wasn't surprised to feel the silkiest, smoothest fabric ever. Her awe halted when her eyes traveled down the sea-green blanket.

Her "outfit" was laid out near the foot of the bed. Darren's claim to have replaced her wedding undergarments was only true in the broad strokes. She could already tell the bra was a shelf-style one that would only push her DD breasts up and out while covering nothing. The garter belt and stockings were similar enough that she couldn't tell the difference, but there were no panties of any kind, as her husband had promised. The shoes sitting on the bed also had heels that were easily three or four inches higher than her wedding shoes; basically stilettos.

I won't look like a bride, I'll look like a stripper for a themed bachelor party. Except even a stripper wouldn't wear this; everything's already exposed, Violet thought with resignation.

She went into the bathroom, which was also much larger and well apportioned than any other one she'd seen or heard of, and found the materials Darren mentioned. It took her 20 minutes or so, having never had an enema before, and she didn't enjoy the procedure, but the whole time two things kept flashing through her mind; Darren's whip and his promise that he wouldn't hesitate to throw her penniless out onto the street wearing whatever she had on at the time.

Violet made her way out to the living room, uncomfortable with the clothes and the residual feeling after her "cleansing." She found Darren sitting in one of the plush chairs in the living room, a tumbler full of some kind of whiskey in his hand, wearing the same turtleneck and slacks that he'd worn from the hotel.

"Excellent," Darren said, "I'm glad you found the clothes. Everything go okay in the bathroom?"

"It was disgusting," Violet said, "And none of these clothes fit."

"I know," Darren said.

Violet was ready to explain what the problem was with the clothes but Darren's reply confused her. "What? How do you know?"

"You came home drunk or close to most of the times when you snuck out on me, do you really think I wouldn't have been able to check your sizes? Or hell, just measured you myself? You sleep so deeply when you're drunk someone could start fucking you and you probably wouldn't notice until they came inside."

Violet felt her face flush as anger and embarrassment rose in her. "Then why-"

"Your bra is mis-sized exactly in a way that will emphasize your nipples," Darren said, reaching out and swirling his hands around one. Violet wanted to flinch away but stopped herself when she saw the cold look in his eyes.

"The stockings are slightly thicker so they won't tear as easily, and the heels are just to fit the part. Also, the spikes on them make for good handholds."

Violet seethed with impotent rage. Darren stepped closer to her, so close her breasts almost brushed his chest.

"Go ahead," he said, "Just this once, say what you want."

"I fucking hate you. You're a sick perverted old man," Violet said in a vicious near-whisper.

Darren leaned forward so his mouth was next to her ear. "You have no idea, my darling," he whispered.

Suddenly she felt his hand grip her hair just behind her scalp. It wasn't any tighter than when she wore ponytails, but it shocked her and she reached back. As her arms raised, she felt a sharp stinging pain erupt on one of her ass cheeks and shrieked.

"Stand and be quiet," Darren said, still holding her hair and forcing her to turn around and walk forward. As he did she heard some sort of electronic chime sound in the room. Then her heart began pounding as she heard some light chatter and footsteps. She tried to look over at Darren, wide-eyed. He simply stood there smiling.

Violet gasped as people came into the living room. Most of them were in stylish but utilitarian clothes. There were three women and four men. Two black gentlemen, one built similar to her friend Jim, tall and muscular, and the other thinner and slightly shorter, more wiry, both of whom smiled with wide mouths and bright eyes until they saw Violet and looked shocked; one shorter Hispanic man with an average build and a thin, small face who seemed to have no expression, even when he saw Violet; and one young white man with boyish looks and a goatee who looked like he was right out of high school, possibly after failing to get a track scholarship. The women were more diverse in body types; first an older black woman stood as the shortest of the whole group, looking at Violet with a curious and smug expression, her cornrow hair colored both black and gray. She was very curvy, but it looked like it was equal parts genetics and weight gain. At the other end of the spectrum, a taller Hispanic woman had very subtle curves, visible only when her loose clothes pulled against her body because of how she moved, who regarded Violet dismissively through long rings of dark hair that occasionally fell in front of her face. Finally there was an Asian looking woman, though Violet wasn't able to figure out the area her ancestors hailed from. She had noticeable but modest curves, probably giving up two cup sizes and a few inches to Violet, and had short straight hair dyed cobalt blue. She seemed as shocked as the two black men when she saw Violet.

Violet started to cover herself when a crack rang out and her other cheek stung with even more pain. A few of the people gasped and Violet yelped, but she stood straight, her bare pussy and exposed breasts on display for the crowd, blinking as tears filled her eyes.

"Thank you all for responding," Darren said, "I figured we should have a quick house staff meeting so I could introduce my wife; Violet Mallor nee Hardigan. Some of you may have seen her before at the summer cottage. She'll be staying here a lot, obviously, and occasionally at my other residences. Say hello dear."

Violet found her mouth had gone dry and she worked her tongue to try to wet it, sure that if she didn't actually respond another crack of the whip would sound. Darren looked down at her.

"Sharon, could you pour my wife a glass of water?" he asked.

The Asian woman took a second to respond but eventually she snapped out of her stupor and went over to one of the cubby holes to pour water out of a decanter into a glass for Violet. She handed it over with a mostly neutral expression but Violet could see from her eyes she was still shocked. And unable to avoid ogling Violet's tits and pussy when she was up close. For a brief moment Violet felt a smirk pulling her lips up as she realized she had a better figure than the servant, at least in terms of asset size, but the throbbing from her ass soon refocused her attention.

She took a gulp of water and said, "Hello."

"I understand this may be a bit shocking but I did brief you all on the situation with my wife," Darren said, and Violet felt herself flush. Had he told the whole staff she'd been sleeping around on him? How long ago?

"I also understand reading or hearing something is different from being presented with it. Just to refresh you on the details, in public she is my wife. If you see guests or are with her out of the house for any reason, extend her the same courtesies you would me. Otherwise I will instruct you on how she is to be served. As to the other matter, Violet will be available once a week, Sunday afternoons, unless I notify you otherwise. I've set up the appropriate furniture in the staff lounge. If she's absent without my notifying you please contact me immediately. Given how few responsibilities she'll have, at least to start, I can't imagine why she wouldn't be present."

Darren had turned a condescending and threatening smile at Violet as he said these things. Violet felt like her hearing was dulled because of her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

"Now, as I said, the reality is different from a description. You aren't required to partake in any of this, and if it actually offends you we can discuss it and make appropriate arrangements. However, be warned that your NDAs and loyalty agreements are still in effect. Mrs. Mallor is here of her own free will; I'm not chaining her to an eyehook at night, and we've discussed the details of our relationship, including the more unusual aspects. We haven't discussed the details of her day-to-day yet. But rest assured anyone approaching law enforcement will be dealt with to the extent of your contracts and the law. That said, Violet should be ready in ten minutes or so. Thank you all."

While many of them still seemed confused or hesitant, they all dispersed at Darren's dismissal, clearly used to responding instantly to his requests and orders. Violet moved stiffly with Darren as he took her arm and led her through the house. She'd wondered, when seeing the shocked expression of some of the staff, if she might find a sympathetic ear among them, but apparently her husband had them legally locked in like she was, even if their situation was a bit more above-board.

She finally snapped out of her stupor they moved into a room with different décor from the rest of the house. The carpet was darker, though no less thick, and the walls were taupe and flat. Pool and foosball tables sat opposite a large flat-screen TV with multiple gaming systems nearby, and a well apportioned kitchen and eating area was set up farther back in the room. Darren led her over to what looked like a set of tall cubicles with closing doors and took her inside.

The cubicles were separated by a solid wall and featured the standard fabric walls Violet had seen on cubicles everywhere, but an odd piece of furniture was set up in the middle. Violet had never seen it before, but given Darren's announcement to the staff and his explanation of her situation, she didn't have trouble figuring it out.

"As you can see the cradles here support your shins as you kneel there. Your stomach and shoulders rest on the bench, and there's room for your breasts to hang so they aren't squashed. Everything is padded with memory foam so it should be comfortable enough. Your head is supported here, though that section is more malleable so you can move your face as needed."

"As needed for what?" Violet asked.

"While you aren't brimming with intelligence I think you're smart enough to figure that one out yourself. There are lots of surveys and things that say house staff appreciate when the people they serve give back to them, and make them feel like part of the family. This is me giving back to the staff. Like I said, you'll be here for four hours. In the future you might want to bring a tablet or some headphones and listen to an audiobook or similar. For the moment, the only other thing I can offer you is a choice of whether to be blindfolded or not."

He held up a blindfold, and not a simple one they handed out at housewares stores as part of the swag bag. This one appeared to be leather and contoured to prevent the little vision gaps around the nose. Violet nodded toward it and Darren quickly stepped forward. Soon Violet was blind, the snug leather pinching her hair a bit. He guided her over and set her up on the bench, face down, exposed to anyone else in the room.

"Remember, your vagina is off limits to everyone but me. If anyone tries for it you stop and let me know immediately. At the same time, that is the only reason you are ever to stop."

Violet had somehow forgotten that restriction until he reminded her and she started breathing harder with her heart still pounding in her head. If anyone came in to fuck her, they'd be taking her ass again. For whatever reason she hadn't made the connection between the enema and what was about to happen to her.

Before she really calmed down she heard the door open, and it was clearly the one behind her. She hoped somehow it was Darren come back to do whatever, but no words were spoken. She did hear the telltale sounds of a belt buckle and pants dropping from someone's waist. Then hands touched her ass, gliding over it slowly. They were more calloused than Darren's; if she needed any more proof someone else was behind her, this was it.

Like the bench itself, Violet hadn't fully grasped what Darren's promise had meant. He'd told her he would be offering her body to others. She had thought it was going to be an ultimate punishment of sorts, or maybe a traded favor for special friends. She'd steeled herself for having to fuck a stranger maybe once or twice a month. Now her husband had set up weekly, multi-hour gangbangs she had to submit to.

Her internal panicked thoughts distracted her briefly, but nothing could distract from the feeling of a wet, spongy mass pressing against her asshole. It caught her so off guard she clenched and jerked away. There was no verbal response, but whoever was behind her paused, then Violet nearly shrieked as a finger jammed itself into her asshole. It was lubed with something and slid right through her sphincter with a burning, pushing feeling. She clenched and pressed against it in shock several times. When she finally stopped clenching, the finger sawed back and forth as if foreshadowing what was to come.

Violet tried to remember Darren's advice from earlier in the day. Relaxing wasn't possible for her right then, but she pushed back, hoping everything from the enema had truly come out. The finger's sliding felt easier for a moment, then it withdrew. She tried to keep her composure, but the knowledge of the next step in the process seeped into her brain and spiked her fear. She started breathing faster. She might have gone into full hyperventilation but a hand grabbed hers and another started rubbing her back.

"Aww, poor dear, come on, calm down, calm down," a gentle feminine voice said. It sounded older, and the feel of the skin in her hand reminded her of the service workers her mother had sometimes shacked up with. She guessed the older black woman was her coach at the moment.

"Now you ain't used to this yet, are you? Yeah, boss man said there's be a transition period. You want old Marcie to help you?"

Violet nodded. Tears stung her eyes and she relaxed a bit at finding a sympathetic figure among the staff.

"Now you can't stop this and neither will I, but you can bear it. It helps to have something to scream into, right?" Marcie asked.

Violet nodded, remembering the gag Darren used just that morning. She opened her mouth a bit, expecting something similar, but then her nose was suddenly assaulted by the smell of a woman's pussy. Soon her mouth was pressed up against a pair of wet lips with hair tickling her cheek and nose. She jerked back instinctively but another hand gripped her hair at the back of her head and pulled her in.

"Go on Manny. All at once now, she can take it."

Violet's ass felt like it ripped open as a hard fleshy mass pushed past her ring and slammed forward into her asshole. As the man's hips hit her buttocks Violet screamed into the woman's pussy.

"Ohhh yeah, that's what I like. A nice slut screaming into my cunt. Man it's been a while," Marcie said, "You hold on a second Manny, let the bitch breathe."