The AMFOP

When even that didn't get his attention, the hot little barista got even more overt. "Um, Mr. Donelan," she said. Although she was speaking to her boss in a small, breathy voice, it rang out clearly through the laptop speakers. "I've been thinking about that date we talked about. I think I'd like to do it."

When he heard that, Mark almost fell off the couch. Slim and Doug just chuckled and watched the young man's face contort into a mask of pain and confusion as it dawned on him that his wife wasn't winning this bet. The proof was still burning in his ears. Amy had been the one to bring up the subject of a date -- not Mr. Donelan. And he hadn't bullied her into submission the way she described. He wasn't even looking at her, let alone groping her. Shit, there hadn't been enough time for Mr. Donelan to harass her either: she had just arrived at work a few minutes earlier. While Mark continued to process what he had heard, Slim took a victory lap.

"Just like I said, married sluts will chase dick every chance they get and lie to their husbands about it. That's what you are, Amy. A lying slut, just like all the rest." Slim's tone was cold and cruel as he rubbed it in. "Now I get to make one rule for your date with Barry."

Amy opened her mouth, as if to protest, but no words came out. She knew that video clip did not tell the whole story: Sure, she may have been guilty of flirting a bit, but only because she was desperate to slow down Mr. Donelan's relentless attempts to molest her, she told herself: He had been harassing her for weeks. She was no slut! But she couldn't find the words to defend herself. In a million years, Amy never expected that Slim would surreptitiously record her at work and she hadn't recovered from the shock.

Doug was quick to fill the silence. He snatched the laptop from Amy, passed it to Slim with a ceremonial flourish, and said, "Slim, my good man, I think we have established that this young lady is no lady at all. But let's see what test number 2 reveals, shall we?"

At this point, Mark stood up. He was unsteady on his feet from all the booze, but he knew he had to put an end to this bet once and for all. He had to save whatever was left of his wife's dignity. But before he could do anything, Doug deftly intercepted him and whispered in his ear. "Don't do anything stupid, son. Everything is under control. Slim is going to use one of his rules to make sure you finally get that BJ. Just watch."

Mark was momentarily torn, knowing that the love of his life was drunk and helpless against these cunning old skirt-chasers, but secretly wanting to see how far she would let them push her. Besides, now that he knew Amy had not been entirely honest with him, it seemed only fair for him to get something out of this. In the end, Mark sat back down on the couch to watch.

"Test two," Slim said dramatically, "coming right up. Keep in mind what I said: Sluts get aroused by men who dominate and abuse them. I will show Amy another video and then Markie over there" -- Slim looked at Mark and winked -- "will reach into her panties and tell us if they're wet or dry. As men of honor, unlike this deceitful little trollop, we will take him at his word."

Doug and Slim laughed, Mark tried to suppress the erection forming in his pants, while Amy sat grimly with a thousand-yard stare. Then the room fell silent as Slim began the next video clip for her. Once again, Mark could see nothing on screen but he could hear everything perfectly.

Amy was in a stupor, intoxicated on a cocktail of alcohol, shame and sexual arousal, and her eyes were wide as saucers as she drank in every minute of the video. At first, the screen was blank except for the opening credits, which identified "American Modeling Fantasies, LLP" and "Omega Partners" as the producers in cheap-looking computer graphics. Then Amy saw a naked young woman with long brown hair, tied back in a ponytail. Her back was to the camera, concealing her face. Offscreen, a man could be heard, but his voice had been digitally altered to make it unrecognizable. He commanded her to present her ass and she immediately got down on all fours, sticking her tiny little bum at the camera, leaving her face unseen. Her perfectly shaved cunt glistened as the man's hand appeared in the frame and began gently stroking, rubbing, tapping and patty caking her bottom.

Then came the spanking. His hand smacked her ass palm down, repeatedly and rhythmically. At first, she reacted with a few girlish giggles, but soon the anonymous brunette was moaning like a whore as her little ass turned red from the sharp smacks. The spanking went on for an agonizingly long time, filling the apartment with the sounds of throaty groans and flesh slapping flesh. Again and again, the man smacked her red bottom until the young woman was whimpering and blubbering. Amy blushed and squirmed in her seat as she watched the merciless spanking continue.

At long last, when the petite brunette was a quivering mess, Slim paused the video and, without looking away from the blushing young bride with bouncing breasts, ordered her husband to do his job. "It's time, Markie," Slim said darkly. "Reach into Amy's panties and show us that sweet nectar. Let's see whether this proud little feminist gets wet when a dominant man takes control."

Amy had difficulty looking her husband in the eye as he approached. She hung her head in shame. Her cheeks burned red and her bosom heaved in her thin tank top. Doug took out his cell phone and began recording. He had never seen anything as hot as this big-titted blonde slut with the face of an angel spreading her legs to allow her husband to dip his hand beneath her panties. As much as Doug lusted after Amy's huge, firm breasts; he zoomed his camera lens in on that gorgeous face to record every tiny little emotion she registered while her husband felt the sticky swampy secretions from her enflamed pussy all over his fingers.

"Well?" said Slim with a sneer.

Doug captured the moment in film as Mark withdrew his hand from the warm, soppy confines of his wife's underwear and held it up. Amy could see as well as anyone that her husband's fingers were coated in her sticky juices. They fairly glistened with proof that Amy is a slut who creams her panties for a dominant man.

The most humiliating thing about failing Slim's second "slut test" was that he didn't even bother declaring her the loser. It was obvious to all. He just scoffed and spoke directly into Doug's camera. "Time for the final test. We've all seen that Amy is a peculiar kind of feminist. The kind who is hungry for strange dick and lies to her husband about it. The kind who craves domination and discipline from a man. Now let's see if Amy is the kind of feminist who likes to watch other women used and abused for a man's pleasure."

Amy winced. Until now, her feminist armor had protected against his verbal assaults, but her pride had taken a beating. She felt defenseless, defeated and exposed in front of her husband and made to look common and cheap. She had been brought low and she was afraid, but also excited, to see if she would be brought lower still. Amy's inner slut was awakening.

Mark wanted to put a stop to this, but he also wanted to see his wife's lips wrapped around his dick, which was erect and throbbing in his pants. In the end, he did nothing to interfere, earning a silent nod of approval from Doug, who continued recording video with his phone.

"For this last test," Slim said tauntingly, still looking straight into the camera, "we won't need you, Markie. We already know your slutty little wife's panties are wet. This time, we're going to see if watching a woman treated like a little bitch makes her nipples hard. And with that white tank top she's wearing, I think the outcome will be obvious to us all." Slim's voice crackled with an almost evil enthusiasm as he set Amy up for yet another humiliation. After a dramatic pause that lasted so long Amy finally found her voice again and demanded that he get on with it, Slim finally pressed play.

It was the same video as before. The lithe brunette had been spanked into submission and now the man holding the camera -- his voice still digitally disguised -- ordered her to lie down on her back. She obeyed, positioning a pillow under her hips so he had easy access to her tight, bald slit. The camera was focused on her flat stomach and skinny legs; her face never entered the shot. Suddenly, the woman started panting and squealing as a hard cock began tapping and rubbing against her engorged clit. The cock was thick and girthy and just over nine inches from tip to base. It was a beautiful tool, perfect for fucking bitches into a frenzy. Amy couldn't tear her eyes away from it. She sat still and awestruck as the man rubbed his steel-hard shaft against the petite brunette's delicate pink pussy, eliciting gasps and moans. After teasing her little nub with his big, spongy mushroom head, the man dropped the full weight of his big dick on her protruding pubic bone and taut stomach, where it landed with a satisfying thwack. Amy was in disbelief as she took in the sight of this king-sized cock silhouetted against the woman's firm, tight body. It looked like it would impale the poor woman up to her ribcage.

As she watched, Amy felt her panties growing even damper, but by some miracle her sensitive nipples were not poking through her tank top. If she could just salvage this last round, she thought, then that fat bastard would only get to make two rules for her date with Mr. Donelan, instead of three, which would make it somewhat more tolerable. And, perhaps more importantly, she could reclaim a little piece of her dignity.

Just how little of it was left soon became apparent. All the men watched Amy as she watched the video. On screen, the hot little brunette was on her back, legs splayed wide, while a cock bigger than a wine bottle began burrowing inside her. The man was patient as the fat head of his cock nudged its way slowly into her tight little cunny. It took five minutes before he loosened her enough to accommodate his massive girth, but once he was fully ensconced in that sweet, shaved pussy, he began hammering away with long, powerful strokes, causing her entire body to convulse with pleasure. Her face was off camera, but the sounds of her lusty moans poured out through the laptop speakers. He constantly varied the length, speed, depth and angle of his attack, keeping her in a state of constant ecstasy. Every so often, he would drag his enormous penis out of her tight snatch, breaking the seal with a loud pop, then slap it against her clit before plunging back inside. His stamina was impressive as he relentlessly rammed her pussy with punishing strokes from his cock. Eventually, after the petite young woman had screamed herself hoarse, one of her legs began spasming and the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced wracked her body.

Amy soaked in the scene. As a feminist, she disapproved of pornography, but being forced to watch so much of it was having an effect. Her pussy was tingling and moist. Her nipples, however, were not hard. Throwing shame to the wind, she gestured toward her generously endowed chest, inviting Slim and Doug to see that she had passed the test, and loudly pronounced herself victorious on this round.

After enduring all the insults and abuse, the beautiful blonde made sure to flaunt her chest while rubbing their noses in defeat. "What a shock," she said to Slim, her voice positively dripping with sarcasm and contempt. "This ugly fat ass bald loser still has some things to learn about women. Who would've thunk it!"

It was a brutally raw taunt and Mark was proud to see his wife get the better of his fellow engineer. Even Doug was laughing. Slim had hammered away viciously at Amy's sense of self-worth; now he was tasting his own medicine. And it was about to get worse. Finding a way to both humiliate Slim and boast of her triumph in the last test, Amy said, "Oh my God, Slim, are the hairy-ass nipples on your flabby tits hard? It looks like you're the slut here!" Now Amy, Mark and Doug were all laughing loudly, while Slim's bald dome turned crimson with anger.

He quickly composed himself, however, and responded in a calm voice, quiet enough to be difficult to hear above the din of laughter. "Good for you, my dear. Well played," he said, disarming Amy with a rare display of humility. Then he tilted his head slightly, cocked an eyebrow and sprang a question that hushed the laughter. "How would you like a new bet, double or nothing?"'

Amy almost gasped, but stifled herself and asked, cooly, "What do you propose old man?"

Slim smiled. The hook was baited. "What I propose," he said, still smiling, "is that you watch the video for just two more minutes. If your nipples are hard after those two minutes, I get to make four rules for your date with ol' Barry instead of two. If not, then you get double everything: I pay you two years' salary, do all of Mark's work for two years and pay his student loans for two years. "

Amy didn't have to think for long. She had passed the final slut test, but she still lost the first two. Going double or nothing gave her the chance to undo all that AND rake in some serious cash and benefits. And winning seemed easily in reach. After everything she had been through, she could endure another two minutes. This was a second chance to make this sexist swine pay. "I accept," she said, trying to project confidence.

"Then hand your engagement ring and your wedding bend to Doug as collateral," Slim shot back, startling the young wife. "You'll get them back in two minutes if you win. Otherwise, you'll get them back after your date," he said suggestively, "if you follow all four rules."

This was finally going too far for Mark, who felt his hands balling into fists. It was bad enough that he had allowed these old dickheads to treat his wife so shabbily; he wasn't going to let them take possession of her engagement ring -- a family heirloom passed down by his grandmother -- and the ring he put on her finger on their wedding day. This was insane.

But before he could stand up, Amy had already taken the rings off and slammed them into Doug's palm. Seeing that felt like a punch in the gut and Mark slumped back on the couch, defeated, the situation around him fully out of his control. He hoped his wife knew what she was doing, but his nagging doubts made his dick hard.

"Two minutes, then I want you assholes gone!" Amy exclaimed. Mark hoped that didn't include him, but after the weak-willed cowardice he had displayed tonight, he couldn't be sure.

"I think taking those rings off already turned you on," Slim observed while staring impolitely at Amy's hefty chest.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Two minutes," she repeated. She was all business. So was Doug, who jammed the rings in his pocket and resumed recording Amy as Slim swiveled the laptop to face her.

When the video began, it was the same recording that Amy had been watching moments ago. No one's face was visible on screen: it was a close up shot of that huge dick pummeling the petite woman's hairless pussy. Amy found the scene arousing but her nipples

were not hard. This was going to be easy money, she thought as she watched the fat cock pull out wetly and shoot a copious load all over the young woman's stomach.

One minute into the video, Mark could see a smile begin to flash across his wife's beautiful face. She was going to make these chauvinist swine pay a steep price. The thought alone tickled her. She couldn't wait to get paid and then send their broke asses home.

But Mark watched in horror as Amy's smile vanished and her mouth hung open, slack-jawed, a look of disbelief her face. The camera had pulled back and Amy could see the man to whom that huge cock belongs. He was barely five feet tall -- he might be taller lying down, Amy thought as she sat there stunned. It was her boss, Barry Donelan! And the petite young woman he had been porking was Elsa, her fellow barista! In an instant, Amy felt her nipples harden, the delicate little nubs chafing against her tank top as she failed another slut test, her body betraying her again.

"Yes," said Slim with casual disdain. "That is the man you will be dating. I see you're already excited about it. Just imagine how much more exciting my four rules will make it for you, my little slut -- or should I say, my little princess?" He began chortling.

Livid, Amy chugged her drink until it was dry, pounded the glass down on the table and stormed off for her bedroom without saying a word. She couldn't stand the humiliation for another minute. She didn't even give Slim a chance to explain the four rules for her date. She just slammed the bedroom door and flopped face down on the bed, tears beginning to well up in the corners of her dazzling blue eyes. Finally alone, free from the perverted old men and their unsubtle stares, she tried to calm herself down by focusing on her breathing. Outside her door, Slim and Doug were having a conversation with Mark. Their voices were muffled and difficult to hear. Even as she choked back her sobs and regained her composure, she still could make out very little of what was said.

Back in the dining room, Slim and Doug were standing up, ready to leave, but they took a moment to gloat about their victory. Mark was deep in self-loathing for how he had let them manipulate and humiliate his wife, but he had never been so turned on. He wanted to knock their old asses the fuck out for how they talked to her, but he was afraid to push things too far. Slim and Doug had all the leverage. They were senior partners at the firm. Pissing them off was a good way to get fired. And they had some mysterious arrangement with Amy's boss, so they could probably get her fired as well. Not to mention the fact that Doug was now in possession of Amy's engagement ring and wedding band. Mark was resigned to his fate -- or, more specifically, his wife's fate. The idea of his hot, innocent, respectable wife being forced on a date with her older, disgusting, princess-fetishizing boss was nauseating.

As if Slim had read his mind, the fat man said sneeringly, "It's not like we forced your wife to go on this date, Markie. Barry didn't force her either. You heard the video. She asked him out -- as soon as she got to work. Face it, buddy. We did you a favor tonight. Your wife has been holding out on you. Now you know what a little slut she really is."

Mark bristled at that, but he knew it was true. And he knew he liked seeing his proud, feminist wife reduced to a slut. His cock was still hard enough to cut glass.

"And we're going to do you another favor, aren't we, Slim?" Doug chimed in, his voice silky smooth.

"Absolutely," replied Slim with a smile. "We're going to get Amy to give you that blowjob. Let me explain my four rules for her date with Barry."

When Slim and Doug finally left, taking Amy's wedding rings with them as an insurance policy, Mark was exhausted. He dragged himself to bed, where he found his wife, looking flushed and red-eyed from crying. Their conversation was quick. Mark ran through what he had talked about with Slim and Doug, keeping it as bland and brief as possible so as not to further upset his fragile wife. There was so much more to say, but Mark was too tired to think straight. All he wanted to do is to go back to sleep.

For Amy, sleep came only much later. Over and over again, she replayed in her mind the scenes of her boss stuffing little Elsa with that mammoth cock. Amy had felt Mr. Donelan's crotch a few times before as he "accidentally" rubbed up against her in the small confines of the Starbucks. It always felt warm, as if it radiated heat. But now Amy knew the source of that heat was a thick, beautiful fleshy beast with an angry purple bell end -- the perfect tool for smashing princess pussy. And she knew exactly who Mr. Donelan wanted to bury it in next.