Wrong Turn, Right Hallway Pt. 04

Wrong Turn, Right Hallway

A Wade Wilson Story

by The Preve

Based on the character and story created by Wade Wilson, and illustration by Lechono

The Author wishes to thank Wade Wilson for his permission in writing this story (and no, it's not that Wade Wilson :D).

Part Four

The Executive Suite:

Part Three

Wade stood against the walls of the shower. Water ran in rivulets down his nude body. His eyes were closed, his mouth, open. Soft moans and ululations gasped from it.

His body quivered at the touch of hands stroking his skin. His almost painfully hard cock, twitched and throbbed to the tongues and mouths licking, and swallowing, its flesh.

Ms. Parilla leading him to the shower wasn't an anticipatory, "What happens next," moment. A miasma of sex and submission smothered him. Shower sex was just another event within the greater experience.

Wade no longer hesitated in his steps. Ms. Parilla dominated him completely. His obedience was automatic.

The shower's size answered his earlier question. The restroom's open door, viewed from the living room, presented an illusion of something smaller. If Wade's senses weren't already overloaded with sex and luxury, he might have gasped upon entering.

The restroom seemed more a salon; the bath almost like a swimming pool. The shower, showers plural, were easily the size of the ones in the gym.

The walls were mirrored. China white tile and silver chrome formed the restroom's motif. An extra room held the towels, washcloths, and bathrobes.

"Okay girls, you know where to put the clothes. We'll be in the shower. Come along Wade."

Anne and Nicki drew Wade into the shower. The washing commenced almost immediately.

It was like fucking in the warm summer rain. The water rained from the ceiling, into the drains on the floor.

"We recycle the water in this building," Nicki explained.

Wade said nothing. Ms. Parilla hadn't given him her permission to speak.

The two women soaped him, and each other, and rinsed, then proceeded to fuck him.

"Just stand, young Wade," Anne said, "We'll say when you can use your hands."

Wade, in hindsight, figured the exercise was a case of feeling him up again. There wasn't much to say after that. The women pretty much had made their intentions clear on the table.

Are they tuning me for the others?

Most of the time they slid their hands along his chest, belly, and groin. Ms. Parilla was particularly interested in his ass.

"It's so cute and your cheeks are so round," she breathed in his ear, "It's just perfect."

Wade could only reply, "Geep!" Ms. Parilla had plunged her fingers into his bunghole.

Ms. Wallace stroked his cock and balls, and played her fingers along his taint, then a new feast of flesh entered the shower.

Wade blinked to view the four milfs: Ms. Cooper, Ms. Welles, Ms. Robinson, and Ms. Moore, all nude. His eyes took in the nude perfection and skin tones of the four superior women.

Ms. Cooper, with her pale, light pink skin complimenting her flaming red hair. Ms. Welles, and her near jet black skin, glowing almost like obsidian, her close-cropped natural black crowning her head. Ms. Moore, and her Greek olive skin. She was the only one with a bush, albeit trim and sculpted. Finally, Ms. Robinson, skin like coffee and cream, with a touch of copper.

All the women were fit, with variations: Ms. Welles was the most athletic in appearance, Ms. Cooper, the most imperious, Ms. Moore, the most dangerous, and Ms. Robinson, the most humorous.

The four women, on stepping into the shower, were most impressed with the view.

Anne and Nicki, eyes heated to incandescence, looked back at the quartet. Young Wade between them, wide eyed, nervous, fear and lust mingled on his face. The falling water lent the three bodies a slick, wet glow.

"This is going to be so fun," Samantha licked her lips.

The others agreed wordlessly, and converged on the trio.

Wade, in subsequent years, never quite remembered how long the shower orgy lasted. It didn't matter at the moment, nor did it seem important later.

The women took turns deep-throating him, or plunging their tongues down his throat, or plumbing his asshole with their fingers, or gliding their tits into his mouth, or stroking, licking, massaging, nipping, scratching his cock, his balls, his taint; a hurricane of flesh, and sex, and lust, and he was the eye.

His cock responded with spritzes of cum, down throats, on bodies, to be rinsed off down the drain, and then repeated.

He wasn't the complete center. His lust-clouded eyes would see random pairs fucking each other.

Nor were the women uniform in their styles. Ms. Moore scratched and bit the most. Ms. Welles was the strongest, her hands tightest on his hips. Ms. Cooper sucked his cock similar to Ms. Parilla. Ms. Robinson displayed the gentlest of touches.

The aesthetics of the pairings helped Wade with his energy: the contrasting tones of Ms. Cooper's and Ms. Welles' skin as they took turns licking each other's pussy. The coffee/copper to light skin of Ms. Robinson, Ms. Moore, Ms. Parilla, and Ms. Wallace, as they stood side by side, in a line, playing a sex game.

The first pair would make out, then, while one turned to make out with the next person, the first knelt to suck the second's pussy until she came. Then the second repeated with the third and the third with the fourth. After cumming, the process reversed. The game flowed back and forth like a tide.

Wade watched this game, while standing against Ms. Cooper, who massaged his balls, while Ms. Welles deep-throated him.

The office boy stayed passive throughout the orgy. Ms. Parilla hadn't yet permitted him to use his hands, or speak, so he stood quietly and came to the women's ministrations.

No one spoke in the shower either. It was a quiet orgy, punctuated by gasps and grunts, with falling water sounding in the background.

Nor, in spite the attention given it by hands and mouths, was Wade's cock allowed into the pussies. Not that it wasn't included in future plans. He was only aware, vaguely, the orgy had stopped when Ms. Parilla grabbed his cock once again.

"Come along, young Wade. Time for the next session."

Wade followed obediently. The shock long since worn off. Awe held some presence, still, but little thought remained in his head otherwise. He let the wave of lust carry him along. He didn't notice the cleaned and reset table, nor would he question it if he had.

The women took turns on the table, while much of the other activity, at least for Wade, centered on the couch. The women divided their time between the table and Wade.

"You can use your hands now, young Wade," Ms. Parilla permitted, "There are obvious things you need to gain more experience in. No speaking. Your mouth will be too busy."

Yes Ms. Parilla.

Anne lay on the couch and spread her legs. Wade positioned himself and slid in. She didn't have to guide him this time.

"Mmmm," she purred, watching his cock enter her pussy. "Such great potential. Thank God for opportunity."

Moreover, she liked the look on his face, as he pumped her. No triumphant or cocky, ego-driven grin, like so many other partners in her past. Young Wade's smile was bright and open; the smile of a young man discovering something new, and beautiful, with a slight sense of disbelief in its reality.

Maybe we should deflower more virgins. I've never had a man this . . . fresh.

The other women had paired off with each other. Tilde and Nicki sixty-nined on the table, while Sam, Double R, and Odie threesomed further down the couch.

Wade and Anne came simultaneously. Anne waited until Wade's cock settled.

"Time to switch, young Wade. Lay on the couch. Odie?"

Odetta propped up on her elbows. She'd been laying back while Sam ate her out. "Yes, Anne?"

"Young Wade needs some lessons on pussy-licking, and we haven't fucked in a while. Sam's gotten you wet enough. You want to kill two birds with one stone?"

Odetta thought for a second. Sam's tongue was really good. She looked over Sam's body to Double R, who was between Sam's legs, working her mouth over the rebel's pussy and asshole.

Yeah, it's been awhile since I had Anne, and I'm curious if this young man's tongue is as good as his cock. "Okay Sam, I'm going over Anne and the kid. You okay here?"

Sam wordlessly gave a thumbs up.

Wade, who'd obeyed Ms. Parilla without question, lay still while Ms. Welles positioned herself over his head. He was far past awe. He had never performed this act before. Ms. Welles' thick, meaty pussy grew closer, and he opened his mouth.

"Just take your tongue out and lick, young Wade. You can use your hands to spread her cheeks. Odetta will do the rest. It's very simple. Just think of it like a kiss."

Yes, Ms. Parilla.

Ms. Welles lowered to his face and started to grind. Ms. Parilla continued pumping Wade's cock.

Ms. Welles tasted of honey and salt. Her pussy felt like a soft, wet rose against his tongue. Her ass was firm and hard as basalt.

Wade couldn't see what Ms. Welles did with Ms. Parilla, but he had an idea.

His body grew to orgasm but he felt no real anticipation. He no longer thought, only acted and reacted. Cumming was just something to do. A burst of cum on his face, which he licked and gulped, followed by one on his groin. He reciprocated with a squirt into Ms. Parilla's womb.

Odetta's verdict, "Mmmm, not really experienced but he has good instincts. I like his tongue. It feels pretty long."

Anne took her mouth from Odetta's nipple. "He's pretty fresh, Odie. He'll get better with time."

"I'm sure he will."

The following hours were a near constant School of Fuck for Wade. The women used every part of his body.

He experienced the taste of pussy in different flavors. The touch and feel of ass in various shapes, sizes, and degrees of firmness. Ms. Welles was the hardest. Ms. Robinson, the softest. Ms. Cooper had the best shape. Ms. Moore's was the tightest. Ms. Wallace's ass came second to Ms. Welles in firmness. Ms. Parilla's was the largest.

He experienced what it felt to have someone (Ms. Moore) lick his cock and balls, while he drilled another pussy (Ms. Cooper), whose clit received simultaneous attention from her assistant. Meanwhile his mouth and tongue worked Ms. Robinson's pussy.

A continuous orgy didn't describe the activity, exactly. However great the stamina among the participants, occasional breaks were needed, either for lunch or brief naps.

Between fucks, Wade would doze, waking to one woman or another stroking, blowing, or fucking his cock.

The casual atmosphere of the late afternoon became almost normal. The experience, of sitting nude at the dining table, eating a sandwich, while equally nude women stood around and talked of mundane subjects, was nearly surreal.

Like a wet dream.

All of Wade's thoughts and emotions were put into suspension. He felt nothing except arousal. Ms. Parilla and the others had tuned his body into an automaton, that responded immediately to orders.

Odetta, Anne, Nicki, and Double R, later, watched Wade on the table. Tilde was going down on his cock, while the office boy worked Sam's pussy.

"This session was good, Anne. Thanks for the invite."

"You're welcome Odie. What's your verdict on young Wade here?"

"Very good. He has some good instincts."

"He's a bit on the awkward side, though," added Double R, "But I liked his performance."

"I think his shyness, and awkwardness, are too ingrained," said Anne, "He might improve over time, with more experience."

"We're all going to be too busy to give him more lessons," Nicki said. "Anne, the Old Lady texted. She'll be in tonight. I offered to send her pics of Young Wade, but she said she wanted to be surprised."

"She's always loved surprises, Nicki," said Anne.

"Much as I want to stay and fuck him some more, tonight's dinner and a movie with Mason," Odetta said.

"Can you stay for a few more minutes?" asked Anne, "We need to get Wade cleaned and put to bed. I suspect he's pretty tired by now."

"Oh good, another shower," smiled Double R.

"I think I can stay an extra hour," Odetta smiled back.

The quartet waited until Sam and Tilde were finished, then helped Wade to his feet and into the shower.

The second time was less intense than the first, albeit some blowjobs and cunnilingus were involved. Overall, everyone managed to get clean.

While Sam, Tilde, and Double R got dressed, Nicki, accompanied by Anne and Odetta, carried Wade to bed. The three women were the strongest in the group, albeit Nicki, who lifted weights regularly, carried the young man with ease.

Wade was out of it at that stage and, thus, missed the experience of a woman carrying him to bed, for the first time since infancy.

The office boy safely put to rest, the three returned to the bathroom, dressed, and left the suite to carry on the rest of the day. Nicki remembered to text the Cleaning Crew before stepping into the elevator.

****

Hours later, Wade woke up. He'd been sleeping, curled, on his side. He didn't know where he was at first. It was night, obviously. The memory of the earlier day crept into his brain, but not the shock.

"I think I'm still numb," he sleepily thought.

Noises entered the open door, from outside the bedroom. Ms. Parilla and the others?

His cock stirred at the thought but Wade still felt too tired and sleepy to leave the bed. So he turned on his belly and went to sleep.

He woke again to hands stroking his ass. His first thought, Ms. Parilla's back, was erased when he raised his head from the pillow to look. Shock and fear produced a faint gasp. Holy fuck!

She wasn't Ms. Parilla, but he sure as hell recognized her.

"The girls were right," she said, "You really do have a nice ass."

A Jump Ahead To Late Sunday Morning.

Robert Wentworth, for all his toxicity, wasn't completely lazy. He did pull some of his weight for the frat house, such as helping clean up after the previous night's blowout.

The celebration was more a congratulatory party on his wicked prank against Wade Wilson.

Most of his bros didn't know Wade, nor did they care one way or the other. A few, more than a few, of Robert's mindset agreed people like Wade really didn't belong at Dartmouth. The world belonged to them after all. People outside their class, race, and (with privileged exceptions) sex, needed to be taught their place occasionally.

Others were at the party for fun, and didn't concern themselves over some geek they never met, and probably never would.

The extra bonus for Robert came from porking Martha Vandergriff. She was pretty, and he'd had better, but she deserved a little something for her inadvertent role in bringing Wade into his clutches.

He hadn't planned on the prank but Wade's presence, at last week's keg party, provided an opportunity too good to pass up.

His own mistake, allowing Wade to control the terms of his penalty, was offset by a correct guess where Wade would stow his clothes.

Robert did give Wade his integrity in fulfilling his part of the bet, evinced by the nude selfie sent to Martha, and the brief flashes at the windows, but that didn't save him.

Wade's integrity was one aspect that drew Robert's contempt. He hated goody-two-shoes.

So that Sunday morning, Robert could help his bros clean the main room, basking in the glow of victory, anticipating Wade's firing, arrest (probably), and subsequent expulsion from the college.

The doorbell rang. One of the bros, Ashton, went to answer it. He returned half a minute later, his usual brash confidence salted with a little fear.

"Uh, Bob," he said, more subdued than he normally spoke, "There's somebody who wants to talk to you."

Robert would normally dismiss talking with a visitor while busy, but a person who could scare Ashton Brewster obviously deserved attention.

Curious, Robert went to the door. The man standing there drained the color from his face.

Oh . . . fuck! It's Mister Kim!

Stephen Kim, the family Fixer. If he appeared at the door, it meant the person in question really screwed up in the worst possible way.

Said person being, sometimes, a member of the Wentworth family (often Robert). Which meant he'd pissed Her off, over what, Robert didn't know. He'd kept his nose clean . . . mostly.

"Robert." Mister Kim was one of the few family employees allowed to call Robert by his first name.

"Mister Kim." It had been made clear to Robert, in no uncertain terms, was he to use Kim's first name.

"May I come in?"

"Uh, yes."

Mister Kim stepped into the frat house.

"I will make this brief." He handed Robert a letter. "You are to read this, then I will recite the orders written on the letter. You will then sign the letter, acknowledging you were given those orders orally, and in writing, and that you will obey those orders to the letter. Failing to do so will result in . . . consequences. Do we have an understanding?"

Robert nodded, and began to read. The contents dropped his jaw.

"What the fuck?!" he muttered. It couldn't be. It had to be some sort of joke. He looked up at Mister Kim, confused.

"You have read the instructions?"

" . . . Yes."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes . . ."

"Then I shall recited them orally. You, Robert Wentworth, will present yourself to the third floor office of the Jansonn and Berkshire building at precisely 9am, Monday. You will have with you Wade Wilson's clothing, appropriated by you from the men's restroom, cleaned, neatly pressed, and folded. You will have accompanying your person, all witnesses to the bet made with Wade Wilson at the gathering last Saturday, as well as all witnesses and participants in the act committed against the same, including and most especially one Martha Vandergriff.

You will, on meeting Wade at the office, present him with his clothes. You will not take your eyes from his person at any time in his presence. I repeat my question. Do you understand these instructions?"

Robert stood blankly, trying to process the words. He blinked and said, "Yes."

"Good," Mister Kim grinned savagely. "The Old Lady looks forward to your presence."

Stephen Kim left, resisting the urge to chuckle. He'd hated this rotten spoiled brat for years, and never missed an opportunity to put him in his place.

Robert stared at Mister Kim's departing back, his mind in a panic.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! He had things to do.

First, fish Wade's clothes from the garbage bin. Next, find the best damn laundry, conceivably open on a Sunday. Then, gather everybody, including Martha, and convince them to accompany him to Jansonn and Berkshire, early, on a Monday morning.

Finally, he needed to figure out one question: why the fuck was the Old Lady interested in Wade Wilson?

Overall, today and tomorrow were not going to be good.

Next: The Old Lady, The Walk of Shame, and What Happened After.