Slut-2-Fuck Ch. 05

He reached over and took her hand. "Really? You're not joking?"

"Far from it. I only arranged to marry Chris for tax reasons. You see, a husband can gift anything he wants to his spouse free of tax."

"And he's given everything over to you tax free?"

She grinned, a little sheepishly. Of course, it wasn't just about the money. But why gift the taxman money?

No, it was everything. She wanted Laura and Chris on her terms. Destitute. So she would have as much control over them as possible.

"Yes. Although there are still paperwork and returns to be filed."

"Wow." He sat back in his chair, as a waiter arrived with their starters.

She had never imagined she'd fall for somebody like Steve. She'd always pictured herself with a rich, successful husband. But that no longer seemed so important. She had a Home now. Money. Income.

And a Plan.

"Of course," she said, "we can wait a while. So it all looks legit. Give Chris his thrill of being a cuckolded husband for a couple of months. I think that's the least we owe him."

"And after that? What do you plan for them once we're married?"

Sam smirked and shook her head.

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

*** *** ***

Q27. Can I watch S2FH have sex with his wife during my session?

A27. At a special session, you can watch S2FH do anything within reason to his wife including oral, fluff and clean up, or rimming her ass, or using a vibrator on her, even caning her, but you will not be able to witness penetrative or romantic sex between husband and wife. S2FH is kept in strict chastity and he will remain locked in his steel device throughout any session.

*** *** ***

Kelly was house-sitting Sam's home during the honeymoon.

And so she was baby-sitting Chris too, in the evenings and at weekends.

Although Kelly had lived in England for two years, she still sported a year round suntan. Her long honey-coloured tresses were cut in a Farrah Fawcett style of a 1980s Charlie's Angel. She was gorgeous but uninterested in Chris.

Sam had chosen well. Kelly was a demanding tenant, expecting him to arrive home punctually to prepare her grilled fish and salads, serve her, then wash and tidy up. Although she was lesbian, she was fascinated by Chris's Steelwerx Extreme. She seemed to enjoy monitoring his showers and brief time unlocked for hygiene purposes. His obvious sexual frustration amused and delighted her.

The only physical contact she had with him was via the two ends of a crook-handled cane; the handle in her strong palm, and the long pole splattering across Chris's bare, bruised rump. There was no sexuality to it at all. It was functional training, just like the push ups, lunges, crunches and other exercises that he had to complete for her seven days a week.

"Strewth." She'd comment, when he collapsed exhausted at the end of his work-out. "I wish all men were wimps like you."

*** *** ***

Q28. Is Slut-2-Fuck available most of the time?

A28. Absolutely. But booking slots have to be limited to ensure that Slut-2-Fuck is fresh and in shape for every visitor's pleasure. Normal booking times are weekdays (Mon-Fri) from 10.00 a.m. to 5.00 p.m. Evenings and weekends can be booked by special arrangement.

*** *** ***

After they returned from honeymoon, life settled into an easy routine.

Well, 'easy', in the sense of familiar, Sam thought. She was legally Chris's wife now and there were occasional corporate functions that she had to attend as his spouse; his office Christmas party, a management-and-wives dinner, that kind of thing. On those evenings, she was on her best behaviour; charming, witty, determined. She made sure that both Mr Lewis and Mr Mitchell appreciated her, especially the former who couldn't remove his eyes from her cleavage.

Steve's life was easy too. He made friends with Fred and the two of them shared an interest in classic automobiles. Fred had an old Jaguar coupe in his garage and both men set about restoring it together and tuning it for amateur racing. Fred's large home was located only a 20-minute drive away from Sam's house.

Meanwhile, unusually for a 'just married' husband, Chris wasn't distracted from his job and career by the amorous or adoring demands of his new wife. He lived a brutally chaste life and steadily learned increasing levels of humility. Instead of him, Sam was well catered to by his old friend Steve.

But life was busiest of all for Laura. An ex, no longer married, she was able to enjoy the carefree existence of a single 28 yr old girl-about-town. Her reputation as a slut who offered superb entertainment filled her diary and earned at least a couple of grand a week for the woman who had replaced her as Chris's spouse.

*** *** ***

Q29. What are Slut-2-Fuck's standard rates?

A29. The following apply for in calls.

15 Minutes 'Quickie': £50

30 Minutes: £100

60 Minutes: £200

90 Minutes: £300

2 Hours+: Please email for rates

Out Calls: Please email to discuss

Special Offers:

A 'book' of 10 'Quickie vouchers': 20% off (ie. £400, payable upfront)

Loyalty Package: 20% off (for regular customers)

Gangbang Package: £240 an hour (60 minutes, 12 men, only £20 each)

Bukkake Package: £100 for 20 men (60 minutes, no penetration, only £5 each!)

Male Pensioners over 65: 20% off

Male Pensioners over 75: 50% off

All Females: 50% off (eg. 30 minutes for only £50)

*** *** ***

Steve had a bladder full of beer and a belly full of asparagus quiche. He pissed into a bowl and sniffed the vegetable bouquet of his green urine. Whistling, he decanted the frothy fluid into a glass carafe and placed it to warm on the radiator for Chris's return from work. For what Steve liked to refer to as Chris's 'cocktail hour'.

He was interrupted by a crack, a female scream and commotion.

He ran into the living room and found Slut-2-Fuck nursing her red cheek, cowering away from the large male punter who had obviously just hit her.

"What the fuck?!" Steve roared, marching into the gap between them.

"I only hit the bitch." The guy shouted, stepping back.

"Well get the fuck out of here."

The bully looked at him in amazement. His tobacco-stained teeth were bared and he had thin lips. He reached out to push Steve out of the way.

"Get out." Steve repeated, standing his ground. He glanced round at Laura. "You okay?"

"I only tapped her."

"I heard the fucking noise." Steve said. "You hit her. Hard."

"So what? She's a cunt."

"No. She's a slut, not a fucking punch bag."

The scene ended with the unpleasant punter leaving, without his money being refunded and a place on Slut-2-Fuck's blacklist. Steve cradled Laura in his arms gently and put ice and then Arnica on her swollen cheek. Fortunately it had been her final booking of the day.

He despised people who confused Bdsm with real violence.

A week later, Steve toured round the new house that Sam had found them all. It was much more spacious, with 5-bedrooms, a garden, and a large basement.

"This is it." She enthused, excitedly. "It's what I've always wanted."

She had used every penny she had saved to buy it outright without a mortgage. The entire profit she'd made on Chris and Laura's 3-bedroom home, her savings out of Chris's salary, and part of Laura's cash earnings. She was now a proper homeowner!

Steve and Sam took a particular interest in the undeveloped basement. It was cold but not damp, brick-lined, windowless, with concrete floors. The only natural light filtered down from four iron-grated holes at ground floor level.

The basement comprised an old cellar with empty wine bins, a large vacant area, four small rooms, and a decrepit, hole-in-the-floor style privy. It stank of musky decay and stale urine.

It would make perfect staff accommodation.

*** *** ***

It was a hectic day. Sam sold her 3-bedroom house on the same day as she completed on the purchase of her new 5-bedroom home. She also initiated divorce proceedings against Chris. The final pieces of the jigsaw were slotting into place. She had accomplished everything she'd aimed to pull off before her 24th birthday.

Next, she managed to launder what remained of her stash of banknotes earned by Laura, by paying the builders for refurbishment and decoration work in cash. There were some raised eyebrows at her designs for the basement but, hey, money talked. They did everything she asked.

"What do you think of it?" Sam asked Laura and Chris.

"It's fantastic." Chris replied, admiring the house' space and views.

"Laura?"

"Yes. It's so large."

"Just how you like them." Sam teased her. They opened champagne.

"Well, it's all mine." Sam continued, chinking glasses. "But hey, you can live here."

They sipped their drinks. Sam rarely allowed them any alcohol.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Until I get bored of you that is." She laughed. "Then you're on your own."

Laura's 'entertainment room' was a large bedroom on the ground floor. It was furnished with a huge 4-poster double bed, a separate chaise-longue, a dressing table, a chest of drawers, two armchairs and a walk-in wardrobe. It was decorated pink, with frilly curtains and a mirror on the ceiling. There were erotic etchings framed on the wall of Indian and Chinese sexual couples. Finally, there was an enormous TV screen on the wall and several cameras on tripods.

In her ensuite bathroom, there was a sunken Jacuzzi, a multi-jet shower, twin basins and a throne toilet. Obscene framed posters of Slut-2-Fuck in explicit poses and in action with various partners covered the walls. A huge print of her squatting astride a kitty-litter tray hung on the wall above the toilet. A large brown stool dangled between her thighs and her face was crimson with indignity.

It was here that Slut-2-Fuck spent her daytime when she was working.

But at night she slept down in the basement. She and Chris each had one of the four adjacent and identical rooms. Two were empty. For now.

All were small and basic, measuring just 6 ft by 6 ft with concrete floors and bare brick, sound-proofed walls. There was a glass viewing porthole in each solid door but otherwise no window. A bright halogen light bulb was the only light and two CCTV lenses monitored the inside of the room. Everything was controlled remotely by Sam or Steve upstairs.

The only furniture in each small room was a narrow child's bed, with steel springs, a thin mattress and horsehair blankets. There were pegs on the opposite wall for their clothes and a slop pail in the corner for overnight waste.

The only decoration was a framed photo.

In Laura's room, she had a picture by her bed. It was of Sam on her wedding day to Chris. Sam was having an orgasm, clutching a bed sheet. The back of Chris's head was visible lapping between her thighs.

In Chris's room, he had a glossy photograph of Laura being spit-roasted. Behind her, a large black torso was visible fucking her from behind with black hands cradling her pale tits. Her profile was visible, squished in a thick mat of pubic hair and a sagging white belly, a hidden penis buried in her throat.

One day, out of the blue, Sam asked Chris. "How long since you came?"

"Forty six days, Ma'am."

She arched an eyebrow, glancing over at Steve who was listening.

"Is that all? Oh that's fine then. You can wait another few weeks."

Steve nodded approvingly. Eventually their goal was to train Chris to go for periods of three or more months without relief.

Mr. Lewis, one of the two owners of the company where Chris worked, was a divorced man who had taken a shine to Sam. He was okay looking and obviously successful, but he was in his mid-forties and waaaay too old for her taste. When he heard that Sam had sadly divorced Chris after their very brief marriage, he phoned to invite Sam out on a dinner date.

She accepted and flirted naughtily with him. So much so that he eventually tried to kiss her.

"No." She teased. "I have a much better idea."

And so it was that, shortly afterwards, Jacob Lewis, became yet another of Laura's many 'lovers'. Sam allocated him a freebie slot every Tuesday afternoon, before his weekly game of squash. The idea was that Chris was obliged to work hard and long for a man who left the office once a week to fuck and sodomise his ex-wife. Jacob wasn't particularly discreet about it either. He kept a photo of Laura in a bikini on his desk at the office.

*** *** ***

Couple bookings were rare.

Which made them all the more enjoyable when they happened.

Kev and Sonja were a white-black couple in the music industry. Kev loved fucking other mens' wives and Sonja liked to dominate white men. They got in touch via Adultwork.com where they'd been searching for submissives.

"So, they're not married?" Kev said on the phone.

"Not technically any more." Sam replied. "I had them divorced. But I'm getting them married again very soon."

And so, at a quiet registry office service, six months after they had divorced, Chris and Laura legally became loving husband and wife once more.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Chris said solemnly to Laura. "With my body I thee worship. And with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

Sam grinned to herself. Worldly goods?

An hour later, the groom was lying face up on the 4-poster bed in the 69 position while his bride's bald cunt hovered just above his mouth. She was still dressed in the same pretty white wedding dress she'd worn to marry him first time round eight years earlier.

Laura's dress was hitched up above her back revealing her white suspender belt and stockings but she had no panties on. She was kissing and nibbling Chris's naked hairless thighs, sucking her husband's 3-inch metal tube into her mouth.

Sam, Steve, Kev and Sonja were watching them, sipping a wedding toast. They had all attended the wedding registry and then returned for the private reception. Kev and Sonja had come on a motorbike and were dressed in black leather.

"I think it's time to fuck the bride. She's gagging for it." Sam said.

Kev put down his glass. "I thought you'd never ask."

Sam watched him take up position at the end of the bed and drop his leathers. Sonja moved in close so she was standing inches from Laura's head.

Kev revealed a shockingly large penis that wasn't even fully erect yet. Sonja turned her head to smile at Sam and winked. She was a striking black woman, in her thirties, who looked like she'd probably been a fashion model once, but her waist was now rather thickset and she had an enormous bosom.

Sam could observe Chris's flushed face just under Laura's thighs. He appeared suitably apprehensive to see Kev's heavily-veined hunk of meat jutting out. Sam gave Chris her best gloating smile. It was time for her couple's renewed wedding vows to start being broken all over again.

Forsaking all others indeed. Hah!

At Sam's request, Steve had recently spent several hours ploughing through Slut-2-Fuck's historic records. In all, 107 different men had already paid to use her. That total excluded those like Tim, Ginge and Cole who had been her first few non-paying partners. It also excluded Steve of course, and Jacob Lewis, Chris's boss, who never had to pay.

Kev was her 108th punter and one of the largest. He was a typical rock industry type; long prematurely grey-streaked hair tied in a ponytail, a face that had seen some hard drugs and harder living, earrings, some facial stubble, and large tattoos snaking down both arms. Laura emitted a guttural groan as he thrust himself into her bald, marital cunt. By now, she was ignoring her husband's steel tube lolling uselessly in his lap and she was staring directly into the camera lens. The scene would make a special wedding video.

Watching, Steve put his arm around Sam and kissed her. She looked at him lovingly. He and Fred had gone into business together, buying, doing up and selling classic cars. She was looking forward to later, when the party was over, and she and Steve could retire upstairs to make love together in their wonderful master suite.

Steve. Her fiancé.

Theirs would be the last, and best, wedding of all.

Meanwhile, Kev had begun hammering in and out, producing loud grunts from Laura. He had shown Sam his negative STD test and was riding the bride bareback.

"Fuck the bitch. Fuck the bitch." Sonja chanted, encouraging him.

Without warning, Laura suddenly squealed in a shattering orgasm. It took her and everybody by surprise and her wide green eyes desperately sought Sam out. She mumbled an apology as a sliver of drool ran from her lower lip.

"I ... I'm s ... sorr ..." she gasped.

Sam beamed indulgently. Laura climaxed so rarely nowadays. She had been so well trained. Why not cut her a bit of slack on her wedding day?

"It's okay my dear. Have as many as you can. Just today."

Sam turned to watch as Kev threw his ponytailed head back and discharged his payload deep inside Laura's clenching, newly married cunt. The mini-camera installed to the side of Chris's head recorded a nice cuck's eye view as Kev's twitching balls and glistening dick usurped the groom's privilege. Then Kev pulled out and a thick blob plopped onto Chris's forehead, before a string of gooey pearl-juice followed close behind.

"Okay Husband." Sam said, smiling down at Chris. "Time to drink a toast."

Ten minutes later, the groom was hunched over, with his sticky forehead on the rug, while Sonja took his anal virginity with a strap-on. It was a thick black ribbed dildo and Chris whimpered bravely into the rug as his Mistress and his wife both held his arms down.

"Mmmfff ... mmmfff ..."

"Come on." Sam said into his ear. "Your wife takes big cocks in her asshole, so you can too. Can't he?"

Laura was still dressed in her rumpled wedding finery. "Yes."

Sam smiled at her, remembering Laura's first time. Chris had held his love's ankles apart while Tim deflowered her rectum. Now she was holding her husband's wrist while some black lady opened up his tradesman's entrance for future deliveries.

Sonja was a magnificent sight, rearing back so that three quarters of the dildo's gleaming length was visible as it exited Chris's anus, and then bucking forwards to ram its full extent deep inside him again.

"There we are." Sam winked at Laura. "How to cut the cake."

*** *** ***

Later, when there were just the four of them, Chris was allowed to masturbate to celebrate his nuptials.

Sam, Steve and Laura sat on the sofa drinking wine, watching him jerk himself off into a saucer.

"Don't cum yet." Sam warned him. "Patience."

"Yes, Ma'am." He bowed his head and slowed down. It was so hard. He had managed to learn to wait several weeks and not to think about cumming. It was about managing his expectations. He didn't deserve to cum as often as normal men did. He accepted that. But there was a point beyond which everything backed up physically so much inside him, like feeling bloated with too much food after a heavy meal. And it drove him almost mentally insane when they constantly edged him to the point of orgasm then made him stop.

"Look at your husband. Doesn't he make you proud?"

Laura looked over at him, and them. "Not really, Ma'am." She shrugged.

Sam and Steve both chuckled.

Chris tried to fix his gaze on Laura. He knew she loved him. Really. But they both sometimes felt this antagonism towards each other. Like addicts blaming the supposed friend who introduced them to their first fix. But he and Laura were married again now. For better, for worse, for richer.

For poorer, that was for sure.

"Okay. A bit faster again." Steve told him, taking over the wheel. "But still don't cum yet."

*** *** ***

Laura watched, as Steve eventually gave Chris permission to 'consummate' their marriage. Her husband gasped and groaned, his hand working in a blur, as he squirted his juice into the cheap plastic saucer. A thick helping of porridge.