Forced Wife Ch. 02

This is the second part of a story I published some time ago. I want to thank all of you who kindly commented and voted on the first chapter, and who contributed suggestions for this. Those suggestions that I have not included in this story are stored away in my mind and I'm sure I will find a suitable context in which to use them. It tells the tale of a submissive wife who is being forced to expose her body to a gathering of both friends and strangers. As her humiliation and exposure progresses I now intend to continue the story from the perspective of the wife. Her name is Brianna and her humiliation continues here:

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I stood before our guests, almost naked to the waist.

I did not understand what was happening to me. I had had little preparation for the ordeal I faced. I have been married to my husband Paul for 7 years. Up to a year ago, when we had our first child, our marriage had been very loving and our sex life tender and, I thought, very satisfying to us both. However, since the birth of our child there has been a progressive change to our sex life. Paul has become more demanding and has required me to perform acts with which I have not felt comfortable. Whenever I demurred from something he wanted of me, he became more insistent and I found that his domination over me eventually forced me to concur with whatever he wanted. I have come to realise that he now treats me as a submissive and although I don't like the role, I must confess that I do get increased sexual gratification. Whilst these more extreme sexual demands remained in the privacy of our own bedroom I have been content to adopt the submissive role he has imposed upon me, but this was about to change.

When Paul told me of the projected party at our home, there was no indication of what he had planned for me. I duly went through the routine of preparing for the party and we sent our daughter off to my mother for the weekend, happy in the expectation of a good time and a short relief from the demands of our young child

The evening had started so ordinarily and the changes that had brought me to this surreal nightmare had been made in small incremental steps. It began with my husband Paul insisting that I wear the most revealing and provocative clothes as I played hostess to our guests at the party in our house. The embarrassment I felt when I first entered the room dressed as a slut was swiftly eclipsed as my husband humiliated me in front of the gathering.

I thought my husband loved and respected me, instead he has used his almost hypnotic power over me to humiliate me in public. He openly unbuttoned my blouse almost to the waist so that my breasts in the flimsiest of bras were exposed. As I was made to serve drinks to the gathering I could feel the men's eyes on me staring at my chest as the blouse gaped open. But my husband was not satisfied even with this and he made me strip off the blouse with everyone watching. When I tried to conceal my breasts, bulging out of the inadequate coving, he actually grabbed my arms from behind so that I was blatantly exhibited to everyone as he turned me to face the whole room, my tits thrust out as he pinned my arms behind me. I couldn't believe it when he then encouraged two of the men to fondle my breasts and then shockingly he told one of them to scoop one of my tits out of the bra. I couldn't help it when my breast was exposed to show that my aroused nipple had become engorged and was sticking out from my tit like a pencil.

I now stood in the centre of the room and all eyes were on me. I looked down at my body, one of my tits was encased in the thin lace of the black bra but the other lay obscenely exposed atop the crumpled cup of the bra.

I raised my eyes to plead with my husband, but he repeated his words, "Brianna, you've been told what to do, we want to see you stripped to the waist, take off your bra. We want to see both your tits."

Again he was using that low whisper that I found so compulsive. I was unable to refuse, but the tears were rolling down my face as I raised my hands to the clasp behind my back. My fingers fumbled at the clasp and suddenly it seemed to fall apart and I felt the straps slide down my arms and the sheer garment fell to the floor. I just stood there, my eyes closed, and the tears of shame coursing down my cheeks. I stood seemingly paralysed like a rabbit in a light beam. I was in a room filled with people, but I had never felt so isolated and alone. I raised my eyes, and there was not a sound in the room. Everyone was just looking at my body. I felt shame and humiliation. There was no rational reason why I should. I had only followed my husband's bidding; the shame should be his.

Paul's voice broke the silence and seemed to break the spell that had come over the room.

"I think we'll have some music now. Brianna will you oblige?"

Strangely I was shocked by this bland request. How could my husband continue in such an offhand manner as though nothing was happening, whilst his wife stood stripped to the waist in front of all our guests. I moved like an automaton to the hi-fi , conscious of my breasts swaying and bouncing as I walked. I turned on the music.

Paul spoke again, "Lewis, won't you ask Brianna to dance."

Lewis was one of the junior partners in my firm, essentially my boss. He is a young good looking man, and normally I would enjoy the prospect of dancing with him, but now as I stood before him, stripped to the waist I inwardly cringed. He took me in his arms and we began to dance to the slow beat of the music. Momentarily I forgot my state of undress as we moved around the floor, but then I became conscious of his hand on my bare back. Although his hand was only gently stroking my spine I again realised my situation. This appeared to trigger the rest of my body and I felt all the sensations of my bare torso rubbing against him. He was holding me at a respectable distance from him as we dance, but this only served to gently rub my nipples against the cloth of his jacket. Inevitably I felt my nipples become aroused and begin to swell. When the music finished and we moved apart I felt the eyes upon me and I knew the cause.

I have what are known as puffy nipples. This means that, when aroused, the large aureole swell like small mounds on the top of my breasts with the nipple itself poking out erect. I had always been proud of my breasts, because the site of this prominent feature always excited my husband. But now, on public exhibition I wished that my breasts and nipples were less conspicuous, concealing rather than magnifying my arousal. When the music ended, Lewis stepped back from me, still holding both my hands, his eyes swept down my body to my swollen chest.

"Brianna," he said, "I hope you enjoyed the dance as much as I did." His eyes remained focussed on my breasts as he spoke.

From as if in a dream I heard my husband's voice say, "Well Lewis, from the look of the condition of her tits I would think she enjoyed it every bit as much as you did."

I remained silent, aware that my husband's words had focussed the attention of the whole room on my breasts and engorged nipples.

"Tell us Brianna," my husband continued, "Tell us how your tits feel, with your sticking out like that."

I looked at him, "Oh please Paul, stop this now, don't make me do this. You know my breasts begin to throb when I'm like this."

Paul was unrelenting, "Stop referring to your breasts, they're your tits, and I want you to show everyone what they look like when you start to get hot. Cup your tits in your hands and show them off to us."

"Paul, please, I can't," I begged.

Paul looked at me for a moment more and then he turned away. He scanned the faces around the room and his gaze settled on Roger. Oh no, why did it have to be Roger.

I knew that it was not by chance that Paul had chosen him for this next step in my humiliation. Roger had been our neighbour for two years now, and through all that time he had barely hidden his desire for me. I could feel his eyes staring at my body whenever we met. I had seen him looking at me in our pool, from his adjoining garden in a way that made me feel very uncomfortable. I was sure that one time at least he was jacking off from behind the cover of the garden fence as he looked at me. His eyes seemed to go right through the clothes I was wearing and it didn't seem to bother him even when my husband was present. Although he could be considered attractive, I found him creepy and avoided him as much as possible.

"Roger." he said, "it seems that Brianna has forgotten her duties as your hostess. Perhaps you would oblige us. Please show our friends and neighbours my wife's beautiful tits."

Roger arose from his seat and came towards me, his face positively leering. He circled around and came up behind me, his arms slipping around my waist and I cringed as his hands cupped my breasts I shuddered as I felt his thick fingers caress and squeeze me.

He whispered into my ear as he fondled me, "Oh that's good. I've waited two years to get my hands on your tits. You are really going to enjoy this, but probably not as much as I am."

He dragged me around the room lifting my breasts into the face of each man in turn, roughly fondling and palpating them. By the time he had pulled me round half the men in the room I looked down and saw that my puffy nipples were fully distended. they looked like two small eggs sat atop my breasts. When he had circled all the men he forced me before Sue, one of the two women present, and squeezed my breasts with particular maliciousness. I almost cried out as I felt a sort of wrenching sensation in my left breast.

Sue sensed that something had happened and looked closer at me. "Oh my god," she said, "just look at that."

I felt Roger stretch to look down at my breast over my shoulder. I knew what he was doing to see. I knew it but I couldn't believe it. I looked down at my breast and I saw the white droplet at the top of my nipple. It had been a month since I had stopped breast feeding my child and I thought that my milk had dried up. I was obviously mistaken.

He looked at Sue, "My God what's that?" he said stupidly.

"What do you think it is you fool, it's milk. The dirty bitch is flashing her tits when they're still full of milk."

Roger looked blank for a moment and then said, "You mean that her tits have still got milk from the baby?"

"Squeeze them some more and you'll soon see." said Susan. "She's like a cow with full udders".

Roger gripped my left breast with both hands and squeezed hard. I cried out in pain. I looked down to see that the droplet of milk had grown and begun to dribble down my breast.

"Not like that you idiot." said Susan "Here I'll show you."

Roger moved his hands away and Susan put out her hand and gently squeezed my breast gradually increasing the pressure as she pulled up towards the nipple. She repeated the process, and again and I could feel the milk rising. Roger gazed mesmerised, as the bead of milk on my nipple became a thick trickle that flowed down my breast.

My husband came over and looked at the milk flowing from my breast. He turned to Roger, "Not bad eh? Would you like to try it?"

"You mean---?"

Paul interrupted him. "Yes go ahead suck the milk out of her tit".

I looked at Paul in horror and backed away. "Oh no, please Paul, not that, don't let him do that to me."

"Shut up bitch," he said, "I'll let whoever I like suck on your tits. Now stand over here and stick your tits out".

He pulled me over to where we have a large full-length mirror on the wall. Roger and Susan had followed us over. Paul smiled at Susan, "Now Susan, you squeeze her tit while Roger sucks on her."

I shivered as Roger lowered his smiling face to my breast. I felt as his tongue licked across my swollen nipple. He looked up at me and smiled.

"Oh yes," he said, "that tastes really good. Squeeze hard on her tit, Give me some more."

Sue's hand squeezed harder as she urged the milk from me. Roger returned to my breast. This time he took my nipple into his mouth and I could feel him sucking on my teat. My breast tingled as I felt the milk flowing from my body into his mouth. His sucking became more urgent and I grimaced as I felt his teeth biting against the tender flesh of my nipple, trying to accelerate the flow. Now he opened his mouth wider and sucked in the whole of my swollen areola; the egg shaped lump making his cheeks bulge as he sucked on it.

Sue seemed to be enjoying her work as she pulled and palpated my breast. She looked across at the other woman present, her friend Julie. "Julie, this is fun. Why don't you come over and pull on this slut's other tit. See if she's got any milk in that udder."

Sue came over to my right side and put her hand to my right breast. She began to pump her hand up and down my rigid cone. Again I felt the tingle in my breast and suddenly, instead of trickling from my teat, a spurt of milk leaped from my tit and landed up trickling obscenely down the mirror in front of me. Seeing this lewd display Simon, who had up until that time been a passive watcher, stepped forward saying, "Oh yes I've got to have some of that – do you mind Paul?."

My husband smiled back "Help your self. She's got two tits. Use them both".

Without another word Simon clamped his mouth to my right breast, and like Roger, sucking on my left, tried to suck the whole of my bulging areola into his mouth. Up to this time I had been standing with my eyes closed as the two men abused my breasts, but now almost unconsciously I opened my eyes. The sight I saw in front of me, reflected from the milk stained mirror, was truly humiliating. I was standing naked to the waist with a man sucking on each of my breasts as the two women kneaded and squeezed them. In the background I could see that my husband and the other men had crowded closer to get a better view. To my shock I saw that several of them were openly rubbing the bulges in their pants. This party was getting out of hand and I seemed helpless to stop it. How far was my husband going to go? I was soon to find out.

After what seemed hours sucking at my tits, it seemed that the two men had extracted all the milk from my breasts, for they both stepped away from me and joined the crowd. The two women gave my breasts a last squeeze and also moved. I looked down at my body. My breasts and tummy were streaked with the milk that had escaped the men's sucking and it was soaking down into the waistband of my skirt. I turned to face the group looking at me. All the men were now showing bulges in their pants and even the women appeared flushed and aroused.

It was of course Roger who broke the silence.

"Paul," he said, "you wife is an incredible slut. Will she do whatever you tell her?"

My husband smiled, "Oh yes. Is there something you would like her to do?"

Roger leered across at me. "Well we've all had a good look at her tits now, can we see her cunt?"

I suppose I should have anticipated this, but it came as a shock, and even more so when my husband grinned at Roger saying, "You are our guest and it is Brianna's task to ensure that you have what you want. Brianna," his voice dropped to its commanding tone, "Your guests want to see your cunt. You can start by taking off your skirt – NOW."

By this stage I felt powerless to resist and with everyone in the room watching my every movement, I unbuttoned the ridiculous short skirt and let it fall to the floor. I now stood dressed in only my panties and suspender belt. I stood for a moment unmoving and then I saw Roger move towards me. He was peering at my crotch. I pressed my legs closer together, trying to hide what was there, but it was no use. I knew that the arousal of my nipples and breasts, together with the embarrassment of exhibiting my nearly naked body had made my pussy wet. Roger had spotted the dampness around my thighs, and so had my husband.

He smiled into my face, "Brianna, it looks as though your cunt is leaking, open your legs."

I hesitated but then meekly complied. As I opened my legs I looked down at myself. I could see that there was no disguising the fact that my pussy had leaked a big damp stain into the crotch of my panties.

Roger beamed at me, "It looks as though she's peed herself. She must really have enjoyed the work over we've been giving her tits."

He peered closer at the damp material stretched across my pussy. "Come on slut, open wider, let's get a better look at that mess between your legs."

I looked appealingly across at Paul, hoping that he'd put a stop to this humiliation, but I immediately saw that I would get no relief. There was no pretense now. It was obvious that Paul intended that I should undergo any debasement anyone thought up for me.

Roger pulled at my thighs and I spread my legs as far as they would go, slightly squatting, as my knees were forced apart. Now the only thing that hid my total nakedness was the thin patch of damp material that was stretch across my pussy.

Lewis, my boss, came over to where I half squatted in front of Roger. "Put your hands on your head," he said. I complied immediately as though in a trance, "and keep them there". I could not believe that this was the boss, who only yesterday, was treating me with the utmost respect and consideration. It seemed that my husband's will was having an effect on everyone in the room and I knew that my ordeal was about to take a major step forward.

Lewis was to be the one who took that step and it began when I felt his hand touch my inner thigh. I gasped in surprise and stiffened, but when he looked up at me he said, "Steady Brianna. You must obey your husband. I am just going to examine your sweet little cunt."

"Yes that's it baby, let your boss have a feel of your cunt." This was from my husband who had promised to love and cherish me. Evidently he now thought that to cherish me meant to let other men poke their fingers into my pussy.

I stiffened as I felt Lewis' fingers creep up my thigh, his hands sliding over the slime that had seeped out from my panties and was now coursing down my legs. I shuddered as his hand approached my crotch. I felt Lewis' hand brush the damp cloth of my panties, and then I felt his finger begin to push the sodden material up into my unresisting cunt lips.

"Go on, give her the finger," encouraged Roger, kneeling before me to get a better view of my abuse. I felt Lewis pull back and then ram his finger hard at cunt. The material of my panties gave further and was pushed further up inside me. I staggered, off balance in my semi-squatting position as he pushed into me again. This time as he withdrew his finger the material of my panties remained wedged up inside my cunt. I heard my husband's voice, and hoped against hope that he was going to save me from this humiliation. But no, I heard, "OK boys, stand back let's see what her cunt's like now. Brianna, strip of those disgusting panties. We want you to show us your cunt."

Even with the humiliation of all those people watching me I was in such a state now that there was no resistance left in me. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties and bending, over pulled them down my legs. As I pulled them down below the level of my crotch I felt the material pull and spring out from inside me and I saw a thin spray of my cunt juice leap out from inside me and coat the carpet between my legs.

This brought loud laughter from the watchers and I heard Julie's voice say "Look at yourself, you filthy slut, you're cumming all over the carpet".

It seemed that I was unable to resist commands from anyone now and I opened my eyes. I saw myself in the mirror naked, apart from my suspender belt, stockings and shoes. I thought I would almost rather be completely naked for the suspender belt seemed to provide a frame that concentrated attention on my pussy which was obviously aroused, my cunt lips wide open and moisture clinging to my trimmed pubic hair and glistening on my thighs.