Slut Lessons For Scott's Wife

"Sure," Simon said. "You can take a picture. Laura, why don't you stand over there, against the wall."

To get there, Laura had to walk past the large window in the café wall, and when she turned she saw at least 20 patrons inside, some of whom were looking at her. Some stared with open mouths, some pointed, some laughed. Laura didn't want to linger for fear she'd get in trouble. But the guy next to her wanted to get a picture.

She walked past the window, to the restaurant's stucco wall. She turned around. The guy who had asked for the picture -- Jeremy -- stood next to her. One of his friends held his phone up, backward, to take a photo.

Laura stood with her back to the wall, exposing herself to the friend with the phone camera, and to everyone else. The one named Jeremy stood next to her, and he put a hand around her waist. The friend said "smile" and Laura tried, but she wasn't sure if her nervousness would allow her to cooperate. The friend didn't seem to be in any hurry. On the contrary, he took his time, taking a lot of photos of his friend Jeremy, next to Laura, standing nude.

The guy taking the photos handed his phone to the other male friend, standing next to him.

"Here," he said. "Take a few photos of both of us."

When his friend took the phone, the guy walked next to Laura, on the side opposite where Jeremy stood. He put one hand on Laura's back, and the other on her front. As the friend with the phone framed the photo he was going to take, the guy next to Laura moved his front hand up, until it cupped her breast. Jeremy, on the other side, saw what his friend was doing and cupped the other breast.

In his room, Scott watched the two strange men grabbing his wife's breasts against the café wall, on a public street. One of them pinched her nipple. His eyes kept going back and forth between her manhandled body and the eyes of her face. He tried to read them, from his room, miles away. Laura was nervous; he could see that. But there was something else. She had surrendered to the moment. His shy wife was naked and on the street and not in control, and Scott could tell that some part of Laura, struggling against her fear and her scruples, liked it. She didn't fight the men who put their hands on her breasts, even though one of them rolled her erect tit between his fingers.

Scott heard Simon speak from off camera.

"Laura," Simon said. "We should keep moving."

Laura responded. For a moment, she'd forgotten what was going on, and all the people nearby who had seen her naked. Simon's words roused her. She backed away from the men on either side of her.

"We need to get going," she said. Her voice still sounded tiny and far away to her.

"Can we come along?" the one named Jeremy asked.

"Jeremy!" the woman with him yelled. She glared at him.

"Never mind," Jeremy said. "Nice to meet you, Laura!"

With that goodbye, Laura walked briskly away from the café and the people outside it. She had another block to walk before she had to turn left. She was glad not to see any people or cars in front of her. She tried to move fast, but the heels slowed her down. She was keenly aware of the sound they made on the sidewalk: clack clack clack.

The sun was high, and the morning cloud cover was long gone. Laura looked right and saw the reflection of her nude body in the windows of the buildings she passed by.

"That's me," she thought. "I'm really walking down the street naked in public."

"Turn left here," Simon said, from behind her.

Turning left would mean crossing the street. That made her more nervous. She looked both directions, saw no cars nearby, and skittered across the asphalt on her high heels.

In just a few seconds she was across, although it seemed like it took longer than that.

"You're doing great, Laura!" Simon called, behind her. "Not too much farther to go."

Laura was glad to hear that. She didn't know what was to come, and she was nervous about it, but it had to be better than walking bare naked down a public street in the USA. She would be glad to be inside, out of view of people and cars. Like the car she could see several blocks away, in front of her, moving in her direction. The car had an interesting shape and it made her body tingle.

"Shit," Simon said. "That's a cop. Laura, go to the right, to the side of the building in front of us."

A narrow driveway separated the building to the side of her and the next one on their path. Laura scurried into it. There was no time to find a place to hide from the approaching police car, so she simply pushed her body against the wall of the building.

Simon walked quickly behind her and put himself between Laura and the street. He hoped it would conceal her. A few seconds later they saw the police car pass by. Laura caught her breath. The car didn't slow or stop. The police officer didn't see her.

Simon walked back to the street and looked both ways.

"Well, that was close," Simon said, his voice still calm and cheerful. "I've only been caught by a cop once before with a naked woman on the street, and he left me off with a warning and a promise to get indoors right away. But I don't want to press my luck.

"The pub is close. Move fast and you'll be there and inside in a minute."

"This is completely crazy," Laura thought to herself. "I'm walking naked in the street. I have no idea where I am. I almost got arrested." But her clothes were miles away, and Simon had given his car to Sam. Laura had no better option than to follow Simon's directions. So, she did.

Laura had to struggle to push her body away from the apparent security of the side of the building and the driveway, but she had no choice. She walked forward on shaky legs with Simon right behind her.

Simon was right. Within half a minute she could see the sign for the pub. The name "The Surfing Cow" was emblazoned in bold letters on the large wooden sign, with a Union Jack logo on one side of the name and a picture of a cow in sunglasses riding a surf board on the other. The sign hung over the door. Laura had never heard of an English pub with that name before, but this was California, after all, she thought. She hurried up. Several cars were hurrying toward her and she wanted to get to the door before they did.

She made it, just barely. The large wooden door was painted red. The façade of the pub was made of faded, worn brick, with two large picture windows to either side of the door. The shades were drawn, so it was impossible to see what was inside the pub. She put her hand on the door handle and took a deep breath. She didn't know what to expect.

She opened the door and went in, Simon right behind her.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light. But immediately, she heard voices call out all around her, with a few wolf whistles and assorted profane exclamations.

A dark-haired man stepped forward from the others with a friendly grin and held out his hand.

"Laura, I presume," he said. "I'm Pedro. I own this establishment. Welcome to the Surfing Cow."

Laura took his hand and shook it, weakly. An English-style pub owned by a man named Pedro, Laura thought. She certainly was no longer in rural England.

The interior of the pub, she had to admit, looked reasonably familiar. One wall was all brick, while the rest of the pub was done up in yellow walls and dark-stained, distressed wood everywhere. Against the walls were deep booths of wood and ruby upholstery, and all around the stained concrete floor stood sturdy wood tables and chairs. Opposite the brick wall, the bar extended most of the length of the pub. Laura recognized familiar names of English beers on the many taps along the back of the bar counter. The walls were filled with items obviously intended to remind the California patrons that this was an English-style pub -- Union Jacks, photos of British rock groups and English soccer teams, and numerous illustrations of the pub's eponymous cow mascot holding and downing mugs of beer. A distinctive California touch was the surf board, painted like the British flag, that hung over the wall in back of the bar, over the shelves of liquor.

Laura also could not help but notice that about 20 people were scattered around the bar, and that they were all looking at her.

She had never been naked like this in front of so many people before. Despite all that had happened so far, she blushed.

"Laura," Pedro said. "How about a pint? You might be thirsty, and it might sooth the nerves."

"That sounds nice," Laura replied. She thought it sounded like a great idea. He was right; she was thirsty, and she thought a little buzz from the beer might help calm her as well.

Pedro gestured to the bartender, a middle-aged man who looked like an aging surfer. He pulled a tap lever and filled a pint glass with what looked like a rich ale and pushed it across the counter. Pedro handed it to Laura.

Laura was aware that everyone was watching her while she drank, so she drank more quickly than she normally would. She downed the pint of ale straight away. There was some murmuring of the people around her amongst themselves, but she had the feeling everyone was watching her and wanted to move on to the next stage of things -- whatever that was. She wondered who all the people were and how Simon knew them. She wondered if they were all connected to Simon's Agency.

Scott still watched from his room. He hadn't moved from the bed. He was rooted to it, watching his pretty wife standing naked in front of nearly two dozen strangers. He'd planned this to happen, but now that it was happening he couldn't really believe it. He was turned on more than he ever had been, but he felt some of Laura's embarrassment and nervousness as well. He wondered what was going to happen next.

Simon's voice emerged over the group.

"Laura, why don't you get started by putting on a show for our friends?"

Laura looked up from her beer glass shyly and uncertainly. The ale in her belly felt good.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Get up on the bar counter," Simon said.

Laura set her pint glass on the counter and looked at it. She wasn't sure what to do. A row of bar stools spanned the length of the bar, but climbing up them onto the counter, nude and in high heels, wasn't going to be an easy task.

"I'll help," said a voice. A tall, muscular man in a tight shirt stood forward. Laura turned toward him and before she could react he put his hands on her hips and lifted her with ease onto the countertop. It felt cool against her bare bottom.

Somebody, somewhere turned on some music. A raspy, percussive slap sounded from a nearby speaker on alternating beats. It was Nine Inch Nails' song "Closer."

Laura was aware of being on view to everyone, and she felt the obligation to perform for them. But she didn't know what to do. She'd never done anything like this before. She sat on the bar with her legs together, her hands pressed against the counter to steady her. Her breasts hung before her, offering themselves to their audience. Her nipples were erect and popped up visibly from the skin around them. But Laura didn't know what sort of show the people around her wanted.

Laura looked to either side of her. Someone had sprinkled red rose petals on the bar counter. It was a nice seasonal touch. Obviously, they had planned that she would be on the bar counter.

"Laura," Simon called from behind his camera, taking control. "Open your legs. And touch yourself. Let your body move to the sound."

Laura did as she was told. Her legs parted, slowly at first, but then with more confidence. She lifted her heels and set each one on a different barstool. She put one hand behind her and steadied herself on the counter. She put the other one between her legs.

She looked out at the people around her. Most were men, but there were three women, as well, and that made her curious. She looked at one of them. She was pretty, but not unusually so, and she looked to be about Laura's age. She looked at Laura with wide eyes sparkling in the dim pub light, and her lips were parted and moist. Somehow it was easier for Laura to think about putting on a show for one person than for a room full of onlookers. Laura looked into the woman's eyes, and her fingers went to the folds of her sex and parted them.

Laura didn't have to look down to know what she was showing the woman, as well as showing everyone else. The woman's eyebrows lifted, and her lips turned into a smile. Laura looked around and everyone seemed to have drawn closer to get a better view. Laura ran her middle finger over and around the pink gash of her pussy, pushing the lips to this side and that and then opening them. She swayed with greater assurance to the beat of the music. Maybe it was the ale, maybe it was something else; Laura was gaining confidence in showing herself off. It helped that everyone around her seemed to enjoy watching her.

The words of the song over the speaker pierced the air around her: "I want to fuck you like an animal."

Laura felt like an animal. She wasn't a shy English school teacher anymore. She was something raw and feral. She wondered what an animal would do.

She shifted her position, putting both hands on the bar to the side of her. She set her knees against the counter, too. Now she was on all fours, the way an animal should be.

She heard murmurs of excitement and surprise from the people in the bar around her. Laura was surprised at herself. She turned her butt up to the ceiling and pressed her chest down. Her breasts hung down from her body until the points of her nipples dragged along the bar counter. Laura began walking on her hands and knees along the bar counter, her body dipping and swaying to the urgent beat of the song.

Her audience obviously approved.

"Fuck, look at the way her tits hang down. She's scraping the bar with them."

"I want that ass," said another voice.

Laura had never taken twerking lessons, but she thought she could fake it. She wiggled her ass to the beat of the music.

Simon at that moment happened to be holding the camera behind Laura, and he zoomed in, and as a result Scott saw not just the fleshy ass of his wife bouncing to the music, but the blue jewel of the plug in her butt and the open, sparkly-moist gash of her pussy too. He almost lost it again, right there, but he stopped stroking himself for a moment. He knew more was to come.

Scott heard others in the audience commenting on the plug in Laura's ass.

When Laura had moved, slowly and sensuously, about ten feet down the bar, on her hands and knees the whole time, she stopped, and resumed the position she'd been in before: legs to the side and open, one hand behind her, the other spreading herself open. But now she moved to the music with more confidence. The ale helped, no doubt. Laura was turned on, and she was less nervous than before.

Simon moved close with his camera. The people around her moved closer, as well.

The song ended, and another song came on. Another song with explicit words and a strong down beat. It sounded to Laura like someone had created a stripper song playlist.

I'm not a stripper, Laura thought. I was naked when I got here. I had nothing to strip. But I'm naked. I'll show them what I've got.

Simon spoke up again.

"Excellent, Laura. Time for the next phase. This is just the warmup."

The tall man with the muscles approached her again. Laura brought her legs together and he put his hands on her hips, and in two seconds her heels were on the floor once more.

"I'm Ray," the tall man said. "Come with me." He led her away from the bar counter to a large square table in the middle of the room. He helped lift her on to the table top, and then he put his hand against her chest and pushed. Laura lay back until her back was against the table and her knees were in the air, pressed together.

She felt hands on either knee, pressing them apart. Laura lay spread open on the table, her back arched against the cool wood. Her breathing was fast and shallow as she waited for what was to come.

"Laura, it's time," Simon said, loud enough so everyone around could hear. "Everybody has seen your body, and now it's time for you to give it up to them.

"Laura," Simon asked, his voice louder. "Do you want to be a slut? Do you want to be fucked and used for other people's pleasure?"

Laura paused. She knew her husband was listening. She knew what he wanted her to say.

"Yes," she said. "I do."

"Then say it, Laura," Simon said. "Tell these people what you want."

"I . . . I want to be a slut," Laura said.

"Say it louder, Laura," Simon said. "Everyone here needs to know what you want, so they can give it to you."

"I want to be a slut! I want to be fucked!" Laura yelled. She was surprised at the volume and decisiveness of her voice.

Laura felt hands on her body. She couldn't count them, although she looked up from her place on the table and tried to figure out who was touching her. There were too many people around her to know where the hands came from, and how many there were. Strong hands held her knees apart and kept the junction between her legs exposed, while other hands moved toward the junction across the smooth expanse of her naked skin. Rough hands grabbed her full breasts and pinched her nipples. A finger entered her mouth and she pursed her lips over it. She closed her eyes. She'd given herself up and events were beyond her control.

She felt two fingers move over her clit and begin tapping it. Her hips arched over the table toward the fingers, and her pussy tingled. Laura moaned.

"I need a taste of that," Laura heard a female voice say, from somewhere between her legs. The fingers on her clit moved away and two hands took her ankles and moved them apart. Her legs spread straight away and apart, like wings, ready to help Laura take flight. Then she felt a tongue on her pussy. She lifted her head off the table to see a blond woman with her head between Laura's legs tonguing the slit between her folds. No woman had ever done that to Laura before, and Laura gasped with surprise and pleasure. The tongue moved with expert skill over Laura's sex. Laura's limbs moved uncontrollably at its delicious invasion of her body.

She wanted to see what the woman was doing to her, but she was prevented from doing so by strong hands gripping the side of her head and pushing her head back against the table top. When her head was down she felt something large and fleshy slap against her cheek. It was somebody's cock. Its tip was directed at, and moving toward, her mouth.

Laura didn't resist. She opened wide. She had to arch her neck and direct her mouth as far back as she could to take it in. The head went between her lips and she took it in and tried to suck it. Laura had given blow jobs before, but the owner of this cock seemingly didn't want a good cock sucking as much as he wanted a full-on conquest of her open mouth. He slammed the cock forward until it hit the back of her throat, and Laura gagged.

At that very moment she felt someone pinch her left tit, hard, and she cried out, even with her mouth stuffed full of an unknown man's hard penis.

Laura's body was assaulted with sensations from every direction.

Simon's camera focused on the long cock pushing in and out of Laura's mouth. Scott, miles away, saw his sweet wife's lips closed around and engulfing a strange man's cock. It pushed so deep that he could see the outline of it in her throat when it pushed all the way in. He saw Laura gag, and drool from her gagging leaked out the sides of her mouth. But Laura didn't push away or try to stop the long, hard strange cock from invading her mouth.

The next thing Laura felt was something different between her legs. The woman's mouth was gone, and in its place, she felt a cock head nestled into the groove of her cunt. There was no foreplay. It pushed forward, and two seconds later it was in to the hilt. Laura tried to gasp again, but the sound was muffled by the cock filling her mouth. For the first time ever, Laura was being fucked from both ends at the same time.