Post-Nuptial Agreement Ch. 05-06

"Get to it, darling," Darren said as he settled back into his seat, his cock softening but still hard enough to rise a bit above his legs. Violet sort of stumbled over to him and dropped to her knees, thankful for the carpet. She swallowed the slight gag as her brain reminded her where the cock had just been and started licking, cleaning off the lube and cum from the fleshy rod.

"Better be thorough," Darren said, "Vaginal infections are nasty, and I'll be very unhappy if you don't take care of my pussy. Make sure nothing gets on the carpet."

The last sentence sounded different and Violet wondered if he'd put his head back as she clenched her sphincter to keep any residue inside. Then she was shocked as she felt a tongue probing around her backdoor. She looked up at Darren with wide eyes.

"Let her do her job, dear," he said with a somewhat wicked smile.

Violet relaxed her backdoor against the determined probing of Lisa's tongue. She was mildly horrified at the idea of the girl cleaning her out that way, but she also had a talented tongue and couldn't deny the soothing pressure was nice on her recently ravaged asshole. She got lost in the sensation a bit until Darren's gentle slap on her cheek reminded her of her own task. She resumed bathing his cock with her tongue, even taking the head into her mouth a bit. Either her own ministrations or the sight of Lisa eating her ass managed to reinvigorate him and his cock started expanding. It didn't exactly pop back up to iron hardness but it was definitely more rigid than when she started.

She was startled again when Darren pushed her away and her shoulders were suddenly grabbed by Lisa. The other girl immediately pulled her into a kiss and forced her tongue down Violet's throat. A thick, gooey mass came into Violet's mouth with the girl's tongue and she reflexively swallowed. When she realized it was Darren's cum that had been licked out of her ass by the flight attendant she gagged and tried to pull away, but the woman had an iron grip on her head and forced the kiss to last until they exchanged nothing but spit, Violet having been forced to swallow most of the cum Lisa had "retrieved".

When they finished, Lisa was on top of her and they were on the floor just in front of Darren's chair. Lisa climbed up on her knees and leaned forward. Some telltale sounds suggested Lisa had taken Darren's cock in her mouth. Her position also gave Violet a view up her skirt, showing nothing on underneath it.

"Be nice to the staff dear," Darren's voice carried down. As he said it, Lisa's hips lowered, bringing the skirt down so it touched Violet's chest.

Violet still hesitated until Darren called out, "Even if I hadn't had investigators follow you, I know you've tasted the pussies of all my remaining female staff. And you don't want to be dropped in a random street in France, do you?"

Darren put an emphasis on "dropped" that gave Violet a very clear sense of what he meant. She reached up and pulled Lisa down a little more, but ultimately had to prop herself up on her arms and crunch to reach the space between her legs. The girl's lips were smooth and spread; she was very much into the whole thing. A tuft of hair was kept above her slit proving the authenticity of her hair color. Violet began licking, thinking to herself that before this she rarely ate pussy more than once a month and now she was doing it for the fourth or fifth time in two weeks. The first swipe of her tongue reinforced that Lisa was on board with the sex; her slit was dripping and felt like a furnace as Violet licked it, and her clit was practically a stone monolith at the top. Out of curiosity Violet tried and managed to get her lips around it like she would with a nipple, then proceeded to suck and flick it with her tongue. Muffled moans sounded above her and Lisa's body started to rock as she added energy to her blowjob in response to the extra stimulation. It seemed like a very short time to Violet before Lisa let out a loud, wailing moan and practically sat on Violet's head. Then her body shuddered and Violet's face was covered in juice. Lisa was apparently a squirter. Violet had to swallow some and close her eyes against the rest.

"Come up here, girl."

Lisa rose unsteadily from Violet's face and she saw Darren pull off the woman's blazer. Beneath it she had on a corset with a built-in shelf bra supporting her impressive chest; she was only a little smaller than Violet, and the bra basically negated the difference. Violet sat up now that she had the room.

"I'll handle the back end, darling, you get the front," Darren said, and then Violet paused in shock as Darren pulled her down onto his cock.

She didn't hesitate and she took him easily, unsurprising given how wet her pussy had been. It took Violet a second to process that Darren was fucking her before she noticed the expectant glare of her husband and the glassy-eyed look of lust in the flight attendant, now bouncing on Darren's cock in a seated reverse cowgirl position. Violet shuffled forward on her knees until her head was more or less level with the woman's and she gripped her bare breasts, immediately tweaking the nipples with her thumbs. Lisa let out a moan at Violet's actions and gripped her shoulders, pulling her into another deep, desperate kiss. Her bouncing made it tricky and Violet's tongue and lips were pinched between teeth more than once as she kept fondling the woman's breasts. Then Lisa pulled away as the sound of solid skin slaps got louder and faster.

"Yes, yes, yes, FUCK ME!" Lisa called out and then erupted. Lisa's juices coated Darren's crotch and dripped a bit onto the chair. When both of them settled, Darren pulled Lisa back against him and looked at Violet.

"Clean us off."

Violet looked down. Darren was still lodged in Lisa's pussy, though his cock was deflating. Both of their legs were coated in her juice, and cum was starting to leak from Lisa's hole. Darren still had the hard, expectant glare on his face and Violet shuffled forward again.

She started on their thighs, licking everywhere she saw moisture. Soon Darren's cock flopped out of Lisa's pussy, and with it came even more juice and a good deal of cum, all of which Violet licked and slurped off of his organ and thighs. Eventually he suggested he was clean enough and it was Lisa's turn so Violet resumed licking the girl's vagina, still tasting of her juices and Darren's cum. She'd been at it for some time and couldn't really taste cum anymore when Darren lifted Lisa's legs up, causing her to giggle, and said, "I think some stuff dribbled down there, too."

Violet had no idea what, if any, cleaning Lisa had done, but Darren's glare was not to be denied. She dutifully rimmed the flight attendant for another few minutes, eliciting more moans and giggles from her until finally Darren suggested she finish up.

Violet watched the woman gather her clothes and make her way to the back of the plane, too stunned to really move from her spot on the floor. She looked up at Darren with a confused expression. He returned only a smirk.

"I'm sorry, you've fucked at least five men in the last two weeks, you were expecting me to be faithful?" he said.

"You made me fuck them!" Violet snapped, "I didn't go cheat on you."

"And if I hadn't rooted out your plan before the wedding, you're saying you would have simply waited at home for me, every day, wet and ready to fuck, never straying and remaining faithful?"

Violet glared at him, tears pricking her eyes. They both knew she couldn't claim that.

"You need to get this through your head," Darren said, his volume quieter but his voice somehow more menacing, "Every privilege, every pleasure, every experience is my decision. If other people force you into things, they will be dealt with. If you defy my directions, we're through. And you know how that ends."

Violet felt tears running down her cheeks, but Darren kept going, his tone softer and his hand caressing her cheek, "This doesn't have to be miserable for you. I showed you on Sunday, and the day before with Julia; if you get on board with what I want, you can enjoy yourself. You're getting throat-fucked because you can't give a blowjob. You dread Sundays because you haven't found pleasure in them, and at this point that's all you; your ass should be used to any of the staff by now, and we both know you aren't put off by eating pussy. Lisa might have eaten you out while I fucked her, and she has quite a talented mouth, but you just sat there like a dazed cow. Everything is your decision, Violet. You just have to choose to accept things."

Then Darren's hand strayed to the top of her head and gripped her hair. "Now, I'm not a young man anymore, but I got some chemical assistance. Use your mouth to get me hard again. You still haven't technically joined the club, have you?"

Six

Violet tried not to waddle coming off the jet. Darren had fucked her twice more in the standard fashion over the course of the flight. The waddling wasn't from that, though; apparently as punishment for her hesitation with Lisa, Darren had forced her to put her panties back on without cleaning herself, both times. An uncomfortable mass of wetness had settled in Violet's crotch, and it had nothing to do with arousal.

Lisa gave both of them a peck on the cheek as they deplaned and also pinched Violet's ass as she followed Darren down the stairs. A luxury sedan waited for them on the tarmac and Darren greeted them in French as they got into the car.

"We're headed to the estate of my longtime friend Jasper Devonshire. He and I have been speculative partners for years on various ventures. We'll stay in one of his guest houses and dine with him in an hour or so. I've called ahead and had an outfit picked out for you."

The last part reassured Violet a bit and reinforced her earlier assumption that Darren's insistence she only bring a carry-on for luggage was related to their ability to simply buy any other outfit they'd need, and France certainly had no shortage of options for nice clothes. Violet's first instinct was to pull out her phone and fill up her feed with selfies against the French countryside with a caption about how she was going to fill her closet with legit Louis Vitton, but she held herself back. In her head, she rationalized that Darren probably wouldn't want his upscale wife acting like a desperate influencer and she'd already one-upped all of her followers just by marrying him. Deep down, she didn't want to see the congratulatory messages or have to think about the innocuous "Tell us everything!" demands that would force her to look at what this trip was actually requiring of her.

She expected the guest house to be something that would qualify as a luxury mansion anywhere else and wasn't disappointed. Everything was white, columns everywhere, linen curtains billowing in the breeze, and probably ten windows on each face of the house. Servants scurried about grabbing their luggage and offering water as soon as they got out of the car, which waited for them as apparently it was a full mile and a half (or two and a half kilometers, as Darren corrected her) from the guest house to the central complex.

Darren warned her that she wouldn't have time for a shower and she should simply dampen her hair and let it hang and air dry. Violet allowed herself a bit of a smirk; she'd been blessed with hair that naturally dried with attractive waves to it without her needing any product or machines to make it happen. Darren was probably just trying to save time but she told herself it was because he liked the look.

After finishing in the bathroom (which was just about half the size of her entire apartment before she'd moved in with Darren) she walked out to the master bedroom to see her outfit. She was initially mortified as she saw only two small scraps of blood red fabric sitting on the cream comforter of the bed, but as she got closer she noticed the red items were actually under another garment. She lifted it and twisted it back and forth a few times. It was white, made of some kind of lace or nylon, and it was basically transparent.

A light knock at the door startled her out of her contemplation of the clothes and she turned to see Darren standing in the doorway. She wondered if he'd been staring and hoped to see him transfixed by the beauty of her standing there naked, but his face barely had any expression except maybe slight annoyance.

"Are you not ready yet? We've got ten minutes before we need to be in the car," he said.

"I...I thought we were going to dinner?" she asked.

"We are," he confirmed.

"In...in this!?" she lifted up the clothes.

"It's France, they're a lot less prudish than America," Darren said, "Now hurry up. We will not be late."

Blinking back tears again, something she found herself doing a lot now that she was married, she dressed. It didn't take her very long. The dress, such as it was, had a full top with a high scoop neck and came in to follow the contours of her hips. The skirt of it was floor length, but it had two slits right over her hips that started basically at her navel and went all the way to the floor, leaving only a foot wide piece of fabric that would actually cover her crotch unless a breeze blew or she twisted too quickly. Of course, all of that was academic because except for where the dress gathered at her waist it was totally see-through. That wasn't helped by the blood red undergarments, though those also were mostly for show; the shelf demi-bra supported her breasts but unless she literally tried to fold and tuck them her nipples were nowhere close to being covered. The thong panties were crotchless, as silly as that seemed, and basically only served to draw a bright red triangle around her pussy in case anyone had trouble finding it. Four inch, spike-heeled shoes, also red, finished off the look, though she had no idea what look that was. Wedding prostitute?

She calmed herself after viewing the outfit in the mirror by thinking that maybe the dinner was actually one of those secret ultra-rich erotic parties where everyone lounged around imitating what people thought Ancient Rome was like, with a bunch of revealing togas and sparse outfits, eating hors d'oeuvres off of low tables or even naked women.

The thought was dashed as she came downstairs and saw Darren wearing slacks and a blazer with a light shirt underneath. He nodded his approval at her outfit and led her into the car. The servants at least didn't overtly stare, but she wondered how many quick head turns there would have been if she'd spun around.

The main complex looked like something out of Downton Abbey and Violet thought it should have been called a chateau or a manor or something. The drive up to the front was through a garden that seemed larger than a football field. At the first landing of a three-tiered staircase a towering figure waited. Darren got out and took Violet's hand as he led her up to him. He'd seemed enormous from the ground, but even when they got close he wasn't small; the man had to be six feet tall to Violet's eyes, and he had muscles that were obvious even through his clothes. He wore the same basic outfit as Darren though his was white with a pale pink shirt and his jacket was longer, reaching halfway down his thighs, it seemed. He was also black. Violet had gone to school in a partially urban area and was no stranger to people of every color, but this man had the blackest skin she'd ever seen; it looked almost blue in certain light, and the contrast made it seem like his eyes and teeth glowed.

"Welcome Darren, it's been a while," he said with a light but obvious French accent, "I apologize for missing the wedding, but I see you brought your lovely wife to meet me!"

He gave Violet a very obvious once over during "lovely" but also took her hand and bowed over it, kissing it politely.

"Yes, she's thrilled to be here," Darren said for her, "Darling this is Jasper Devonshire."

Violet was thrown off by the gesture given her state, but she also realized the bow gave him an ironclad excuse to study her pussy through the sheer dress.

The men fell into a discussion in French that was far too rapid for Violet to follow with what she could remember from one class she'd taken in junior high and some quick reading online. She tried to look at the house but she was more concerned about the servants she saw wandering around cleaning, carrying, or gardening. None of them were looking at her when she noticed them, but she couldn't look all the time.

They wandered through the house, another study in elaborate wood engraving, stone floors, and columns, to an oval room that was mostly windows. A dining table much smaller than she assumed it would be sat in the middle. She went to sit on one side but Jasper insisted she sit at the head of the table.

"Women should always be in the best place," he said, smiling widely.

She sat and the men settled to either side of her. Again, she started out feeling grateful for Jasper's manners, and then rethought things; the table they ate at was made of clear glass. Jasper sat her so both he and Darren could ogle her body at any point without drawing attention.

The food was pretty much as she expected; a series of very small entrees artfully put together on what would be side plates anywhere in the U.S. The courses were all served by wait staff who served in a traditional style, which meant leaning over near her every time they set or removed an item. Even if the dress weren't see-through, they would have been able to see down her top. She ate mechanically, basically a bystander as the men continued to converse in French except for a few snippets of English that made no sense out of context, and soon enough dinner was over and they retired to the "sitting room."

That room was decorated very differently from the rest of the house. Dark wood lined the rooms and the floor, broken up by some dark blue throw rugs. A lot of furniture crowded the room, most of it in red leather, but there were also wooden cabinets that held liquor and cigars. Jasper poured them all some of the former, though no one decided to smoke.

"How would you feel about some refreshment, or are you too tired?" Jasper asked, "I know there's a bit of a time difference."

"Oh of course. And Violet's all about such things," Darren said.

Violet's head snapped around but Darren wasn't even looking at her.

"Ah yes, you suggested that yesterday," Jasper said, "Is she aware?"

"Oh no. I know how you like surprises," Darren said.

"Excellent," Jasper replied and then he pushed a button on a table near him and Violet heard a sound like an intercom. "Envouyez-nous...ohh...Charlene," he said.

Barely a minute later a dark-skinned girl hurried into the room, running daintily. She was dressed in a literal French Maid outfit, with the addition of some heels, though based on how her chest moved she had no bra on and definitely should have. Her skin wasn't nearly as dark as Jasper's and she had long straight black hair gathered in a ponytail. Jasper spoke to her for a moment in French again and she merely replied "oui."

Then Violet was subjected to a series of shocks. First, Charlene dropped to her knees and pulled out a bottle, setting it on the arm of the easy chair Jasper sat in. Then, with his help, she pulled down his pants exposing his cock and began coating it in the liquid she drizzled on it from the bottle. The second shock came when Violet got over the sight of how quickly Charlene had done this. She actually looked at Jasper's cock and felt her chest tighten. She didn't get a sense of how tall Charlene was, but Jasper's cock seemed to be the same size as her forearm. She watched the girl lick and stroke it, and even when she put both hands around his cock they didn't cover the whole thing. He was at least as thick as Darren, if not a bit thicker, and definitely longer.