Staid Wife to Slut Wife Ch. 03

Preface

The two previous chapters of this story appeared in the 'Loving Wives' section. I deliberated for a while as to where to place this chapter before deciding it really doesn't matter all that much. As the content from this point on will be slightly more dom/sub I have put it back in my regular home of 'BDSM' but it could equally be a Loving Wives story I think.

A quick summary of the plot so far – I cheated on my hubby, he caught me, he fucked me and we both decided that it had awoken something we both wanted to explore – my desire to be treated like a slut, his desire to watch me being a slut, and to treat me as such. This next chapter continues our journey.

For those who have commented negatively about my/our lifestyle choices with the whole slut wife thing, tough! These are my desires, fantasies and sexuality being written about for the pleasure of those who enjoy erotic writing and have the ability to enjoy and appreciate a wider range of consensual, sexual experiences. If you don't like the theme, go read something else, I really don't care for moralising judgements, if you do, then you're maybe on the wrong website, just a thought..

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My husband had given me clear instructions. I was told to take the Friday afternoon off work, to prepare dinner and that he would be in at 5pm. The rules of this particular game were very simple; I was to do everything he told me without question and without hesitation.

As I scurried dutifully around the kitchen preparing dinner, I knew 'everything' would include our lovely and invigorating brand of rough fucking and dominant control that I enjoyed probably even more than he did. I just didn't know right then what form it would take but I knew I was already wet and fully seduced by the thoughts that were racing through my mind. He could take me now, right now and I would be ready for him.

The day had started as a usual Friday, rudely awaken by the nerve shredding shrill of the alarm clock, both Paul and I stumbling around in the gloom brushing teeth, washing, performing oblutions and so on. At the breakfast table, we were 'enjoying' our customary hurried tea, toast and cereal before leaping into our cars and battling with the rush hour traffic to take our usual places in the office madness. What time we did have however led to the conversation that in turn lead to me being back here now, my pussy throbbing in anticipation of what was about to happen to me.

"Are you able to leave early today?" Paul said casually, in between munching on his toast.

I glanced at him questioningly, "I guess so, I've got some morning meetings but that's about all I think," I shrugged.

"Well you are the boss, hon," Paul said smirking. He was right of course, I could pretty much come and go as I pleased as long as my work was done and I was already happy that apart from a couple of quick meetings, it should be a relatively easy day.

"OK then, I guess I can leave early. What do you have in mind, do you want to go out somewhere?" I asked.

"No, quite the opposite," he said, "I want us to stay in!" He said, grinning.

"Stay in? So why do I need to leave early?" I said, perhaps a little irritably, I wasn't really a morning person and I wasn't enjoying Paul being so cryptic. He soon made himself much clearer:

"I want you to leave at 2pm, you will come back here, prepare dinner and wait for me. I will be back at 5pm. When I get back, you will obey everything I say, do anything I want without comment or complaint. I will give you further instructions by text between now and then. Is that clear, SLUT...?

I just stared at first, my toast in my hand frozen in mid-air, my mouth agape. Paul finished his little speech and looked at me calmly and 'butter wouldn't melt' style, perhaps with a slight smile of amusement as he watched my reaction. I literally didn't know what to say and he seemed to enjoy my stunned confusion.

I looked at him again. I had wondered when we would continue this lovely game again. It had been a few days since the events I told in a previous chapter. The only sound for a few seconds was the 'swish' of my tights below the table as I uncrossed my legs.

I took a deep breath and said the only thing that seemed appropriate, "Yes of course.... Sir!" I said as we exchanged eye contact, a nervous chuckle and then a quick peck on the cheek as Paul left, his keys in one hand, his briefcase in the other.

As he stood up, I noticed his pants straining a little in the crotch area, he had a semi on. I glanced at it knowingly and gave him an ironic smile and look. He shrugged, laughed and left for work.

As he left, I looked at my watch and regretted he hadn't asked me ten minutes earlier, I was so turned on that I had the strong urge to take his cock in my mouth there and then and show him exactly how much I approved of his developing dominance. It would have to wait though, I had work to go to, albeit only a short morning's worth before who knows what waiting for me when Paul got home.

Even though I only had two meetings and some routine enquiries to deal with, everything seemed to drag interminably. I even thought of making my excuses and leaving even earlier than planned.

Paul sent me a couple of texts that made my impatience even worse. The first said, "Looking forward to fucking my slut wife later, she better be ready." The second was similar, more direct, "Not long to go before you're on your knees sucking my cock." I didn't reply to either text. I didn't have time but they did make my head swim in anticipation and lust.

The clock finally ticked around to when I could go home. As I returned to the house at about 2pm, the latest text contained fairly precise instructions on what I was to wear. I was surprised he actually knew what clothes I owned, I guess he had taken a look in advance for this very purpose. The clothes he chose - well you could tell a man had chosen them. He had me wear no underwear but the now traditional black seamed stockings. For shoes he just stipulated 'black heels' so I chose what I considered to be my sexiest pair. No real surprises so far.

The dress choice was surprising however. I would have guessed he would have had me in one of my little black dress numbers, or something with a gaping cleavage, kind of classy and trashy all at the same time but he actually chose a floral print Laura Ashley style dress. Very feminine and elegant I guess, but not what I thought of as my sexiest attire. The dress was quite a long, loose one, below knee length. I was worried it wouldn't fit as I'd not worn it for twelve months or more but it actually felt really comfortable once I had found it and slipped it on. I'd enjoy wearing it and hopefully he would enjoy ripping it off me later!

As I put my instructed clothes on, I did feel giddy with excitement but giggled a little as I dressed myself in such a strange fashion combination. Slut heels and stockings underneath a floral print summer dress. Hey ho, whatever Master wants I thought to myself...!

As I prepared to go downstairs to get dinner ready and prepare for him coming back and whatever he had in store for me, I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror. I lifted my dress up to reveal my stockings and felt a knot of giddy tension in my stomach. I knew his idea of the evening involved rough dominant sex and looking at myself in the mirror, he had me dressed as a conservative housewife on the outside, and a dirty slut underneath. Pretty much summed me up I smiled to myself as I let the dress fall back down over my legs and wiggled out on my heels downstairs and into the kitchen.

Half an hour into my dinner preparations I got another text.

'I'll be home in one hour. Be prepared, you'll do exactly what you are told at all times. I expect dinner to be almost ready when I get back but we're not going to eat straight away. No talking when I get in, just do what I tell you and take what I give you."

The text took my breath away, I loved it when Paul spoke me now with such assumed dominance. I felt my pussy throb and twinge between my legs and I considered sliding my hands beneath my dress but I resisted. I was already wet and ready for whatever my filthy husband had in mind. I was determined to go along with it to the letter. I would only do what he told me, no more, no less.

Every minute of my food preparation was frustrating. I kept listening for that key in the door knowing as soon as I heard it, anything could happen, it felt so deliciously unpredictable, which I guess was one of the effects Paul was aiming for.

I had the dinner ready a little too early if anything. I plated it up and left it in the oven to maintain the heat. As I wondered what to do to kill some time, I heard it; the key in the door. I had my back to the kitchen door pretending to carry on with my preparations. I heard him stride into the kitchen and my body tensed and I had that anticipatory tickling sensation all over my body as I felt him move right up behind me, my pussy wet and throbbing as my mind had been on erotic overdrive for hours already. I was breathless and my body felt clammy as I realised I had no idea what was going to happen and I had voluntarily given up all control to him.

I groaned inwardly as I felt his hard-on through his pants immediately against my back and bum. Clearly he was looking forward to this too, he pressed his erection firmly against me, it felt hard and long and I wanted it already. For some reason, I had hold of a wooden spoon at that moment. Paul grabbed it out of my hand forcefully and tossed it across the kitchen work top, it ricocheted of the work top and bounced onto the floor.

With his other hand, he slid under my dress and straight between my legs. I opened my legs as much as I could, wanting to show him I was completely open and compliant for him. I heard him say something like, 'Jeez!' Possibly acknowledging how hopelessly wet I was as his fingers quickly rubbed across my slit and inside me. His fingers were not slow and tender like he had been throughout our married life, they were rough and urgent, finding their target of my wetness. I felt he was doing this not for my pleasure, but to ensure I was ready for entry. I definitely was.

I stretched my head back against him in pleasure. I felt his lips and tongue on the back of my neck, my ears and my shoulders as he started to finger fuck me roughly. I imagined my juices pouring out of me as I tried to lift myself higher onto his fingers. I barely noticed that with his other hand, he had unzipped and his hard cock was poking out behind me aggressively. I thought of dropping to my knees and sucking him there and then but I realised he was the one in control. I'd wait for instructions. The very next second he gave me them.

Without even speaking, he pushed my shoulders down strongly so I was bent over the work top. Within seconds, he placed my hands flat on the work top and roughly pulled my dress up clean over my hips. He pulled my hips up so that I lifted my bum high in the air. I didn't have time to think, I knew he was basically going to fuck me hard, right there, right then. I wanted it, fuck, I needed it, take me you dirty bastard, bend me over my own kitchen work top and fuck the shit out of me, use your wife's dirty whore cunt, fuck me roughly, use me.

As these slutty thoughts flashed through my mind, I felt my body lurch forward against the work top as my husband did exactly what I had mentally urged him to. As soon as he had me bent over, he gripped his swollen dick and launched it straight up me, filling my pussy fully, easily, with one thrust and a grunt that hurled me against the cold surface of the work top, he was balls deep inside me. He wasted no time, he used no finesse; fuck, he hadn't even used any words. Once his cock was buried inside me, he basically grabbed my hips tightly, and in fast, urgent trusts, gave me a deliciously frenzied fuck.

He fucked me senseless, he must have given me about 15 or 20 long hard thrusts of his thick shaft as I hung on for dear life, my accommodating pussy being roughly invaded and split in two around his thick meat, his balls actally slapping me quite firmly with the force of his thrusts.

The first proper words he spoke since he'd got in where, "Ah, take it you filthy slut, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes!" As he said this, he gripped my hips even more tightly, buried his cock deep inside my cunt and filled me full of hot, thick spunk. I felt my pussy throbbing around his shaft, it felt like I was milking him as he deposited what felt like a pint of come inside me whilst he held me in place firmly, using me as if I was simply the receptacle of his come.

As he came down from the high of his orgasm, I felt the tension ooze out of his body. He pulled his dick out of me firmly. He surprised me again by simply folding (as best he could) his dick back into his pants and zipping back up, he gave me a swat of his palm on my arse and pulled the skirt of my dress back down over my waist.

I stood up and sighed breathlessly, feeling every inch the well-used slut. Paul looked at me curiously, a little amused and simply said, "I'm going to freshen up and get changed, I expect dinner on the table in twenty minutes," and with that strode off to the bathroom and to get changed.

I looked at him amazed, but also so turned on. He'd come in, fucked me, taken what he wanted and without even acknowledging it, had moved on with his evening. I didn't really know what to say, I said nothing, smiled naughtily at him, and walked back to the kitchen to carry on with dinner, my pussy slick with come and starting to leak as I walked the few steps to the oven. I was almost in a trance and my feelings were hard to explain. I hadn't even come, yet that didn't seem to matter, in fact, in this context it made it better, I had felt so completely used, it was all for him and my pleasure wasn't even a factor, not even a thought.

My head was spinning and I felt wonderful, I was looking forward to whatever else would happen to me but already this had been a fantasy fulfilled. I felt like the serving wench who had been routinely fucked by her Lord and Master. He had simply taken possession of what was his, my pussy. What's more, as I stood there having just been so aggressively 'had', I was now dutifully preparing his dinner and waiting further instructions.

I finished meal preparations in head-spinning silence, noticing my hands were shaking and my heart was pounding with the excitement at what had just happened. Paul returned and joined me at the table and we spent a pleasant hour eating, drinking a little wine and chatting. It was as if we hadn't just had frantic, urgent sex just five yards away from where we were now sat. It was all perfectly civilised and respectable and 'normal'.

As civilised as this was, I was quickly reminded that we were still in Dom/sub mode. As we finished dinner, Paul stood up and said, "Get this cleaned up and come and join me in the lounge, we need to discuss this evening." He didn't wait for my reaction this time, he just assumed I would obey. Too right I did, I was so enjoying this changing dynamic and I was becoming fascinated by how Paul's demeanour and attitude were changing. It didn't feel like a game anymore, just a new regime and he seemed to suit it perfectly, I did too.

As I hurriedly tidied up, I entered the lounge to see Paul was sat on the chair. He smiled warmly at me and patted the couch next to him to indicate I was to sit down. He motioned to pass me my glass of wine but seemed to change his mind. He looked at me calmly and said, "Lift your dress up and spread your legs first."

He chuckled as he noticed my taken aback face. This evening was full of surprises. I remembered what I had promised though and did as he ordered. I stood up, lifted the hem of my dress high above my waist and sat back down, bunching the dress across my stomach. I blushed markedly as he gazed between my legs. His come from before had dribbled down my legs and even though it had dried by now, I'm sure he could still see it. Even though this was my husband of ten years and he had seen me naked a thousand times over, this felt different and humiliating, like he was inspecting his property and enjoying my embarrassment at being so openly on display for his voyeur enjoyment.

Time seemed to stand still as he surveyed my stocking clad legs and my pussy. He looked me in the eyes again and said, "Changed my mind, take the dress off completely and sit back down. I want to look at your tits."

I stood up, reached behind me and unhooked and unzipped the dress, letting it slide away from me as I stepped out of it. I motioned to sit back down, now naked apart from stockings and shoes but before I did, Paul motioned with his hand, "Not so fast, pick the dress up off the floor, fold it and put it on the chair," he ordered. I had no idea why he'd asked this, just exerting the power he had over me I guess. I bent over to scoop the dress up, feeling my breasts fall down vertically beneath me as I did so and folded it as instructed, feeling Paul's gaze firmly on my near naked body.

I sat down. I was instructed to drape my right leg over the arm of the couch so my pussy was completely on display for him. My head was a fog of lust as I wondered where this was now going as I sat there as if I was posing for a men's magazine, openly on display for my husband.

Paul sat back to enjoy the show, his eyes alive with lust at seeing his wife dressed like such a slut on the couch in front of him. He sipped his wine, passed me my glass and gave his next orders, "Right wife, strum that clit whilst we have a chat. I want to see you play with yourself until you come. But if you do come, you're not to stop talking to me. Is that clear?"

I looked at him in the eyes with lust. I was a little ashamed of my eagerness as I realised my fingers were already draped over my cunt in readiness to obey. I just about managed a weak, "Yes," in response. He greeted this with a smile and then opened both his hands in a gesture that said, 'help yourself or get on with it.'

I had little or no dignity to preserve by this point, as soon as he gave me the go ahead, I slid my index finger straight into my pussy, and across my clit. I groaned audibly at the pleasure I felt straight away. I'd been on erotic tenterhooks for hours, been roughly fucked in the kitchen but still hadn't had release of my own.

As soon as my fingers found my sodden clit I knew I wouldn't last long. I didn't want to last long, my stomach was almost aching in need of release.

My arousal was intensified as I looked at Paul, in turn looking at my fingers in my cunt. I felt such a slut in the lounge, frigging myself off in front of my fully clothed husband. He was clearly amused but he reminded me that his orders were that we were to have a chat as I masturbated for him. He started:

"Did you enjoy the fucking I just gave you?"

"Yes....I did," I said, struggling to even focus on the words as my arousal grew.

"I did too. You make such a natural slut. Do you want my cock again?"

"Mmm, yes...yes I do, I want your cock inside me."

As I said this, I watched him, I was almost frantic now as my clit throbbed in my fingers. I saw him lift his bum up and pull his pants down. My heart skipped a beat again as I watched him pull his meaty shaft into his hand and show it to me as I pleasured myself by pressing down firmly with my index finger onto my swollen clit.

"Is this what you want?" he said, grinning, and waving the shaft of his cock theatrically from side to side. I felt hypnotised by its stiffness and hardness and stared at it while pleasuring myself. I may have even involuntarily licked my lips. My pussy certainly throbbed even more, every signal I gave out to him showed I needed his cock. I felt he was turning me into a cock-hungry slut and I was enjoying my own transformation as much as he was.