The Portrait Ch. 02

The Portrait

The Sequel

This is my attempt to add to Cindy'sBob's excellent story, "The Portrait." It is probably my favorite story on the entire site. I don't know why, exactly, except that I love the characters, love the way Leanne changed, and found her conversion incredibly exciting. My only quibble with it was that it needed more chapters. I've resigned myself to the fact that he isn't inclined to provide one, so, with his permission, I have tried my hand at a further chapter of Leanne's descent into slutdom. After reading his story numerous times I discovered that he was never specific about their children, nor did he ever reveal Mr. Ellison's first name. I have provided specifics in both instances, no particular reason for my choices, just what I felt like.

This is my first attempt at erotic writing. I know it is not worthy of his wonderful story, but I've done the best I could. I welcome comments and hope I can bear up under the burden of criticism.

Two further disclaimers: Much of this is probably illogical or, even, impossible. It takes place in my universe where such things can happen. Comments attempting to inject reality of planet earth into my universe will be futile. In addition, if you hate stories where the husband gets excited seeing his wife fucked by other men, you will hate this.

I hope you enjoy it!

Time went by. A couple months on I hadn't noticed any more bruises or anything to think that things were continuing like that.

One night, as we were getting ready for bed, I noticed that she was wearing a particularly heavy nightgown. Since I was in a rather frisky mood that night, I suggested something a bit frillier.

"No," she said, "I'm kind of chilly tonight."

"Nonsense, I'll keep you warm."

I grabbed her, playfully, thinking we could tussle over the nightgown for a little foreplay. Instead, I suddenly found myself being attacked by a woman, seemingly fighting for her honor against the world's most dangerous rapist, fighting, scratching, clawing at me in desperation.

I quickly stepped back and looked at her, alarmed at her ferocity. Breathing as though she had run five miles, she looked wildly at me, and then became somewhat sheepish as she saw the shock on my face.

"I'm sorry, I just don't feel like it tonight," she murmured.

A cold wave swept over me, and I starred at her as she slowly lowered her eyes to the floor. Slowly realization dawned on me. Blocking her so she couldn't possibly leave the bathroom, I said; "Leanne, I want to see your body."

"No, let's just forget it, I'll make it up to you tomorrow or the next day."

"Leanne," I said, "Do you desire to remain married to me?"

Her eyes snapped up to me abruptly, wide with shock and worry.

"Of course, how can you ask me such a thing," she said in a trembling voice.

"If that's so," I said, "Then I want to see you naked right now. I've noticed bruises on your face or neck a couple of times over the last few months, and I've never said anything because our life has been so good otherwise, that I thought your secrets, and I'm assuming you have some, should remain yours. However, when you attack me like that just because I want to love you, as we've done hundreds of times, something is going on that I can't just dismiss. Show me what it is you're hiding, NOW"

The last shouted into her face from a couple inches.

I could see the tears starting to well up in her eyes, as she looked up at me, then down to the floor again.

"it's really nothing that horrible," she murmured, "I just have a bruise fr -- from slipping against the washer today. I just didn't want you to get all excited about it. Can't we just forget it?"

"No, we can't, show me."

Slowly, reluctantly, she started lowering the neckline of the nightgown. She slipped her left arm out and lowered that side until it revealed the top of her left breast, on which I saw a dark bruise about the size of a thumb print, which was not lost on me.

"All the way down," I said, "down to your waist, NOW."

She recoiled, again, and slowly slipped the other arm out, holding the garment over her breasts.

"Please promise you won't be angry," she whined.

"I won't be angry at you," I said, "but if this is an example of your "slip" we're going to have to have a long, serious talk, now show me!"

She lowered the gown to her waist, and stood, face down, fingers nervously clutching and re-clutching the material of the garment.

I gasped in shock and for a minute thought I was going to black out as I looked at her body, naked from the waist up. Her beautiful breasts, that I had fondled and played with for our entire married life, were a mass of bruises and bite marks, more than I could quickly count. In addition, she had a band-aid clumsily stuck over her right nipple. Grabbing the band-aid and pulling it off, I saw another bite mark, spreading over her areole and nipple where the skin had just been slightly broken. Not enough to be a serious wound but enough to make me see red.

"Who did this to you," I shouted.

"Please be quieter," she whimpered, you'll wake the girls." Our 10 and 13 year old daughters, Tracey and Sylvia, were sleeping down the hall.

"OK," I wheezed," but I'm getting to the bottom of this. Pull your gown back up, if that makes you feel better, and meet me down at the kitchen table in five minutes, we're going to talk this out, if it takes all night."

I sat at the kitchen table with two glasses of a red wine that we both favored sitting before me. She eventually came down the stairs, robe over the nightgown now, and clutched in both hands as though some unseen person or gust of wind was going to snatch it from her. She sat down at the table, never looking up at me and I pushed the glass of wine over to her.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"All right, Leanne, tell me everything, and you'd better hope that I don't think you're lying, because I won't be held responsible for my actions if I think you're holding out on me", I said menacingly.

Slightly shrinking away from me see turned her eyes up to me timidly. "You said you wouldn't get mad at me," she whined.

"I won't, if I know you're telling me the truth."

"All right," she said and proceeded to tell me the following story:

"Well, I decided to go to one of those big box hardware stores today to price mulch for the garden and the shrubbery this spring. I didn't dress provocatively, I thought, just those blue short shorts and a halter top."

"Did you wear a bra," I asked, sarcastically.

"Um, no, I guess I forgot that, but the halter top didn't seem to need one," she said, nervously, twisting the napkin I'd given her in her hands.

"Go on."

"Anyway, I walked in the store and went toward the back, where they have the garden supplies and found the pallets of mulch. As I was looking at them, trying to figure out which size bag was the better deal, a big guy came out of the back carrying another bag to put on the stack. As he was putting the bag on the pallet he turned and looked at me and asked if he could help me. I noticed him eyeing me, up and down, and, um it, um, well I guess I got a little excited about the way he was looking at me."

"Why would you do that," I asked.

"Well, um, I, uh, "

We sat and looked at each other for a few minutes that seemed like hours. Finally, I decided I had to get it all out in the open if I expected her to be truthful to me.

"This attraction to big, rough men all started with Donner, didn't it?" To her shocked expression I added, "He told me all about it, I know what happened between you two," I said.

Her jaw dropped and she starred at me as though horns were growing out of my head.

"You knew?"

"Yes, he told me everything, but I love you so much, and our life has been so good, that I didn't see any reason to disrupt it all for something that was over. But it isn't over, is it?" I asked. "Go on with your story."

"Well, we talked about the mulch for a while, and then he said that there was some in the back that was the best overall deal. I said I would be interested in looking at it, and he led me over to the door to the back of the store and escorted me through it. We went into the back of the store and he led me over to a pallet of mulch. It looked like the same stuff that was out on the floor and I said to him that it didn't look any different from the other stuff."

"No, it doesn't," he said, "but you look a lot different back here, alone with me, than you did out there."

"I was going to react indignantly to his forwardness but, truthfully, I was hot from looking at him. He was roughly dressed and sweaty because he had been working and was big and very buff. I had thought of Donner when I first saw him and the resemblance affected me. He must have seen this because he suddenly stepped back, unbuckled his belt and quickly dropped his pants and boxers to the floor. I recoiled somewhat, since it really surprised me and he just stood there, leering at me with his cock standing erect from his body. He -- he must have seen me looking at it, because he stepped back another step and then folded his arms across his chest and said, "There it is baby, you know you want it, and I know you want it. Either get on your knees and start sucking or get back out in the store and buy your mulch and go home,"

I -- I stood there for a minute.... Well, actually about ten seconds, I guess and then stepped to him and went down to my knees and started sucking his cock. I thought maybe I could make him cum and it would all be over, but he suddenly reached his hand out and grabbed my arm and pulled me up and kissed me. The kiss made all resistance drain out of me and I just melted in his arms. He started tearing at my clothes and, before I knew what had happened, I was naked and he was pushing me down on the bags of mulch. I tried to push against him at that, since I realized that anyone could walk back there and see us, but he forced his hand into my crotch and rammed a finger into my pussy. I was shocked but, at the same time, it felt so nasty and reckless, and so good, that I just let him have his way. Within minutes his cock was inside me and he was fucking me hard, as hard as I've ever been fucked. He put his hand around my neck and started choking me and before I knew what was happening we were both climaxing and I could feel him filling me with his sperm. We laid there for a moment and I became conscious there was another person there. It was his partner and he got off me and gestured toward me and said, "Your turn," like you would tell one of your golf buddies it was their turn to tee off!"

"So, then you did him too," I asked, probably more sarcastically than I meant to.

"No, he did me. He was the one that pinched my breasts and nipples until I was practically screaming. Then he rammed his cock in me and started biting me. I thought he was going to chew my nipples off, but eventually he came and calmed down a little. I thought they would leave then but the second guy grabbed me by my hair and pulled me over to the door that went outside where their truck was. All the way to the door he was talking about how they could take me with them and use me in their truck until they got tired of me. I was terrified! When they opened the door however, there were other truckers and customers out there and he loosened his grip on my hair. I bolted away from him and ran back, grabbed my clothes and ran into the lady's room and locked the door. I was in there a long time, trying to fix my clothes and when I finally opened the door they were both gone. I ran out the back and got to my car and came home just before the girls arrived from school."

'Jesus Christ," I breathed, "What if he had dragged you to their truck?"

"I know," she said, looking at the floor, "It was so dangerous."

"OK, Leanne, how many times have you done this in the last three months?"

"Two or three," she said, "but only in my car where nothing like that could have happened."

"Can you see that you need to never do this again," I shouted.

"I know," she whined, as tears ran down her face. "But I can't forget how it felt when I was with Donner, and sometimes I get so frantic to just be used the way he used me that I can't help it. I've gone to a therapist, and it helped, but I run into some guy like that in a store or wherever and it just takes over me."

"Well, the first thing you're going to do is go to the doctor and get tested for venereal disease before you can sleep in the bed with me. The next thing you're going to do is promise me that you will not do this again and, if I find out that you have done it, I'll kick you to the curb so fast your head will spin. Then we're going to try to find some solution to this whether by therapy or physical means.'

"What does that mean"

I don't know, Lea, maybe a chastity belt for you." She blanched at this, and I said, "Can you suggest anything else?"

"I promise I won't do this again, while we work on getting my mind in the right place, George," she said, "please give me a chance to win your trust back."

"All right, Leanne," I said, "but you'd better not slip while we try to get a handle on this."

After four weeks or so, things seemed to have calmed down and our life seemed to have returned to normal. NO more incidents with injuries, Leanne's blood work came back negative, and we talked regularly about what she was feeling and how she was dealing with any stress. Our sex had become more frequent and I tried to be a bit rougher with her when having sex, but I was pretty sure that the itch was not being scratched as thoroughly as it needed to be. All-in-all though, life was good our sex life had gotten hot again and, except for having a teenage female in the house, things were going smoothly.

Then, my secretary stuck her head in my office one day and said, "A Mr. Donner on the phone for you, line one,"

Grabbing the phone off its cradle I growled into it, "What do you want, you bastard."

"Why Mister Ellison," he intoned, smoothly," I just wanted to make sure you are satisfied with the quality of your portrait, and discuss a business proposition with you. Nothing for you to be so belligerent about."

"You know what you did to us, you son of a bitch," I asserted angrily, and then told him about the problems Leanne was having as a result of his having introduced her to her "slut side", as he had put it.

"You had a chance to end that, pal, and decided that you would rather watch and jack off to it than put the kibosh on it, so don't lay this all at my feet. Anyway, that's not why I called. I have a business proposition for you."

"What is it?"

"A fellow artist of my acquaintance, Devin Ghormley , a British painter, was looking through some of my copies last week and saw the photo I took of your wife's portrait, with her basically blanked out," he said, adroitly heading off my sputtering accusation that he promised no one would see it. "He couldn't see her and wouldn't know who she was if he did see her. He really liked the setting and has a commission for a portrait from a very wealthy client who wants a similar portrait of his trophy wife, and he is willing to pay $ 1,500.00 to you to use the venue. I thought maybe in the next week or so he and I could come out so he could see it in real life and decide if it's worth it to him. How about it?"

"I wouldn't let you near my wife again, for all the money in the world!"

"We're not going to be near your wife, buddy," he retorted, "We'll get out of my truck, go to view the venue, and you can come outside to discuss it with him. We'll never get near your house, so you can lock her up inside, safe and sound, until we leave. As a matter of fact, he even said, if he likes it, he'll pay you $500.00 earnest money which you can keep even if his client doesn't go for it. No loss for you either way. So, what do you say?"

I thought about it for a while and then said, "I'll have to ask Leanne how she feels about it. I don't want her to suddenly look up and see you there, we're just starting to get back to a safe place in our marriage. I'll call you back in a couple of days and let you know. OK?"

"Good for me," he said, "I'll wait for your call," and hung up.

That night I broached the subject with Leanne, explained it just the way he had told it to me. She got a somewhat deer-in-the-headlights look for a few seconds but the said, "Fine, as long as he stays away from the house, I don't see a problem."

So it was that two weeks later Donner's truck pulled up and he and an even taller, similarly bulky guy got out and strolled down through the woods toward the waterfall. I watched them out the window and, when I turned to look at Leanne, I saw her starring after them and almost hyperventilating. Thinking this didn't look good, I asked her if she was OK. Looking nervously at me, and with a trembling voice she said, "Maybe we could invite them in for a beer on such a hot day."

"Are you crazy? You know he'll want more than a beer,"

"I know, but you have been anxious that in trying to scratch my itch I would get into a bad situation and be injured or worse. This could scratch the itch under a controlled situation, you would be here. and you could put conditions on it so nothing dangerous will happen. I've been really good for months and the girls aren't here and there could be a time limit on it. Please do this for me," she said, "and I promise things will be normal again afterwards."

We argued about it for a few minutes until she said that if I chose not to do this for her, she might be hard pressed to promise me that nothing bad would happen in the future. "I really want this, and I will make it up to you any way you want. PLEASE!"

"All right," I sighed, "Invite them in." I went upstairs to a window above our back door and waited for the two men to come out of the woods. Leanne, wearing a sundress with nothing on under it, went out on the back porch to wait for the men. As they came up the trail, talking, I saw Donner glance up to the back porch and stop, seeing Leanne standing there.

"Mr. Donner," I heard her voice, "Why don't you and your friend come in for a beer while you talk to George?"

Donner was looking at her with his mouth open and then I saw his friend nudge him and they both looked up to the window where I was purposefully standing so they could see me. I made a big show of nodding my head up and down so they couldn't miss it. They looked at each other and continued toward the back door, Donner with a big smirk on his face.

When I came down the stairs, they had just entered the house and Leanne guided them through to the living room and directed them towards two stuffed armchairs arranged in front of our bay window and facing the couch. They sat down as I came down the stairs and stood behind the couch facing them. Leanne came in with two beers and handed them to the two men and sat down on the couch facing them. Donner introduced Ghormley to us and we said "hellos" all around.

"Well, Mr. Ellison," Ghormley began, "I love your waterfall and I would be happy to pay you to use it. I brought the earnest money with me, and I hope we can do business." As he said this, he pulled out his wallet and extracted five $ 100.00 bills.

Leanne was sitting nervously on the couch facing the men with her knees pressed tightly together and her hands clutching each other in her lap, a fact that did not escape Donner's attention.

I nodded to Ghormley and he placed the bills on the small table between the chairs they were seated in. "Well, that was easy," Donner remarked, crossing his right leg over his left knee, "Now that the business is settled, what can we do to amuse ourselves while we finish this excellent beer. Mrs. Ellison, what would you suggest?"