tagLoving WivesWife on a Leash

Wife on a Leash


"I'm really sorry it has to be this way, baby. If there was any way I could bail us out of this, you know I would," I told my wife as I started the car.

"I know you would baby. I'll live, it's not the end of the world," Pamela answered.

For the last couple of months we had been having money problems. My wife, Pamela, had lost her job and we were behind on the rent, plus bills were not getting paid. We thought at the time, that she would get a job again fast and recover so we had taken a chance. Through some shady friends, we got in contact with Mr. Adams, a club owner willing to lend us cash for a few months. The deadline for repaying was last week and we were completely out on our depths.

We had called and asked for some slack, but yesterday he had showed up at our door with a couple of goons, practically knocking the door down. They had given us a last chance at repaying our debt.

"The way I see it, the two of you have no chance of paying me back with the money you are currently making. Isn't that right, John? Since I don't want unnecessary aggression to take place, I'm offering you a deal. If your wife comes to work in my club for some time as a hostess, I let that work as down-payment. It's a classy gentlemen's club. You'll be performing for clients, dancing some occasional intimacy."

"Intimacy?" I asked. "Like people trying to sneak a grab while putting a dollar in her thong?"

"For instance..." he replied with a grin.

I had tried to picture Pamela as hostess, which was probably just a nice name for stripper. She did have a great body, standing 5'8 tall with a great ass, shapely legs, C-cups, blonde hair and full lips. It was just that she insisted on hiding her curves inside baggy shapeless clothes.

"Revealing clothes is not appropriate for a married woman, " she always said when I tried to get her into a tight fitting top or similar. "I don't wear such clothes anymore!"

She used to, back when we were only dating. "Such a sight..." I reminisced.

It was clear the Mr. Adams had seen this potential and we had seen no other option than to accept the offer. She was, after all, only going to be dancing in front of lonely horny men. Mr. Adams had given me his card and told us to come to his club the coming friday.

"First night will be trial, my dear. If you do not live up the expectations, we will have to go back to our original plans for collecting the money, which entails breaking a lot more then your door!"

Trial night was upon us. We parked the car in the parking lot outside the club where my wife was to be performing for the evening. It was still pretty early and there were only a few cars present. We stepped out and started walking towards the front door.

As we approach the front entrance a couple came out. My first though was who would bring his girlfriend to a place like this? It wasn't like she would enjoy the performance. Then again, this wasn't an ordinary couple. The guy was probably about 40 years of age and the woman around 20. He was balled, dressed in a black suit with a light purple shirt underneath. He looked slick and like he owned a small fortune.

The girl was a bombshell, shoulder-length reddish hair, blue eyes with really sexy dark make-up. Her mouth was the kind that cried out for deep kisses, nice full lips with red lipstick on them. She wore a white shirt which was tied around her waist, showing her tanned, flat belly and a pierced bellybutton. The shirt was buttoned down to give a good view of her nice big breasts. Around her hips she wore a short black skirt that was just short enough to cover her ass when she was standing, but when she was moving, it swayed, revealing the lower part of her ass cheeks. At the end of her slender legs she wore high-heeled latex boots.

The thing that caught me about this couple, was that the guy was holding a golden leash that was attached to a gold rimmed, black collar around her neck. I guessed this was some kind of SM couple with some exhibition fantasies. The guy looked at me with a grin, put his hand on her ass under her skirt and squeezed. We returned an uncertain smile and continued towards the entrance.

I opened the door and we stepped inside. There was a small hall with another door at the other end. A brunette with long curled hair wearing a white dress sat behind a small desk. A huge black guy, probably a bouncer, stood to the back of the hall, next to the other door. The girls attire looked more proper than I had expected. Though she was good looking, she didn't look like a stripper. Maybe this wasn't going to be too hard for Pamela after all.

"So, what can I do for you," she said in a seductive voice.

I pulled out my wallet and took out the card Mr. Adams had given my wife the day before.

"Ah, the new girl and the husband," she smiled. "By all means, step inside. Just find yourself a couch inside and enjoy yourself. I'll take care of your wife from here". She took my wife by the hand and led her past the bouncer into the club.

I started to follow them but the bouncer grabbed a hold of my arm. "You better not get jealous on us now, tonight she is not your wife. She is a girl who works here, thats all. If you try any funny business, I'll break your ribs and kick you the hell out of here!".

"I can handle other people watching my wife and get off on it, " I replied briskly.

"Most husbands are fine with the watching. It's the intimacy that follows with it that they normally have problems with." He said with a satisfying smile.

I grabbed my arm back and entered the club. The main room fit more with my expectations of a gentleman's club. There were a number of dark red leather couches spread around a darkly lit room. The couches where U shaped and in their center were tables in polished steel. A pole was standing in the of the tables, going up to the ceiling, probably for more private dancing.

At the center of the room was a stage with one pole on each side. On one of the poles was a girl dancing in the last stages of her strip, she was down to only her thong and her high-heeled silvery shoes. She had nice tan skin, short black hair, and a firm set of breasts. She was holding the pole with one hand, arching backwards and pressing her crotch against the pole, one leg on either side. Her mouth was half open, faking a lustful moan.

At the other end of the room was a bar with a bartender behind it. Around the room, hostesses were moving about, taking orders and carrying drinks back and forth. They were all dressed in short skirts, just barely covering their ass, wearing high-heeled boots or shoes on their curvy legs. They had tops which showed their cleavage and much of their nice stomaches as well. Mr. Adams was right about it when he said this place had only strictly high-class girls. I couldn't see a single one that I didn't instantly want to fuck.

I spotted Pamela being dragged into a corridor at the other end of the room, before they disappeared behind a curtain.

There was no stools at the bar, so I figured I'd sit down in one of the available couches. I picked one in the corner, as I was feeling a bit out of place. I counted about 10 girls in the room and seven guys. It didn't take many seconds after I sat down, before one of the beautiful girls came up to my little corner. She sat down on the table in front of me.

"Hi there handsome, I'm Jamie, Can I get you anything from the bar? There's beer, wine, champagne, a drink menu..."

"I'll just have a beer, thank you."

While I was waiting for my beer, I looked around the room more closely. There was a group of three men which had a stripper on their table, giving the men lap dances. A white leash went from the table up to her neck where it was attached to a white-rimmed collar. Looking around the room at the hostesses, I saw that all of them wore collars of some sort. Black leather collars with white or red lining. Then there was the girl we passed while entering. Her collar was gold-rimmed.

When Jamie returned with my beer, I asked her "How come the guys over there have that girl tied to the table with a white leash? And what's with the collars?"

"They paid for a 15 minute lap dance, the leash signals that she belongs to them for the duration," she smiled at me. "The color on the collar indicates how far we are willing to go. White means she will only do lap dances. Same as me, by the way, " she said, pointing at her white-rimmed collar.

"What about red and gold?" I asked

"That is a bit too intimate for me, I'm afraid. I only work here to get extra cash while studying, so I don't want to be damaged goods afterwards, if you know what I mean," she said with a smile, leaving my table.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I thought. "A lap dance is not intimate enough for you?".

I got a bad feeling. The girl we met at the entrance had to be working here, and they guy had taken her outside. "Could she have been bought? That can't be... Certainly Mr. Adams would have mentioned this..."

The lady that took my wife away came back out and stopped by my table on her way back to the entrance. "Your wife is almost ready. We have found something appropriate for her to wear and she is getting help applying the final make-up now. When she is ready, Mr. Adams will have a quick chat with her about house routines. She should be here in ten-fifteen minutes."

After a long fifteen minutes, the curtain in the corridor was pulled back, and my wife came out. Pamela looked around the room, spotted me and smiled an uncertain smile. She started walking towards me.

This was really unlike the Pamela I had come to know. She had a distinct "I wanna fuck" schoolgirl look, with her blond hair put into two pigtails, which lay on her shoulders. Her eyes wore a dark makeup making bright blue color shine out intensely. Her mouth, bright red with lipgloss, looking dangerously sexy. Her face alone was enough to want to fuck her there and then.

Similar to the other girls she wore a short sleeved shirt, buttoned down to show her c-cups cleavage. It formed a 'V' on her chest that went almost out to the nipple. The shirt was tied together just below her breasts, leaving her flat, nicely trained belly well exposed. Just below her navel started a red plaid skirt. On contrary to the other girls, which had skirts that covered their ass, my wife's schoolgirl costume left nothing to the imagination. The skirt stopped halfway down her ass-cheeks, and there was no panties visible. On her feet she wore a pair of white high-heeled boots, the kind I'd only seen in porn movies.

She looked incredibly hot. "I'll have to persuade her to use this outfit at home, " I thought to myself. She also wore a collar, which glimmered white from this distance.

She stopped by the bar and grabbed herself a glass of sparkling white wine and a glass of bourbon for me. "The girls get free drinks here," she said smiling.

"Nice outfit! Of all the girls here, you definitely look the best. Mostly because you're so sexy, but the outfit helps! Any chance you get to bring it home so I can enjoy this sight more often?"

"You wish! I'll never something like this when I don't absolutely have to!" she said firmly. "I look like a dirty slut, but Mr. Adams said I'd be on trial the first night. I figured I'd go all the way and try to make a good impression. I don't want anything bad to happen to us, after all."

"C'mon, baby. You look smoking hot!"

"I look like a whore!"

When she said 'whore' I noticed that her collar wasn't white, but golden. It was only a trick of the lights that had made it look white before. I thought about what people had said about intimacy. Mr. Adams, the bouncer, the hostess. Then there was the girl at the entrance...

"What's with the collar?" I asked.

"Mr. Adams gave it to me. It signals to clients that I'm available to perform all services offered in this establishment. He also gave me a few pills to make me relax on my first night. I think they were some sort of sexual arouser, because I'm starting to feel really horny..."

"You know what these services are?" I continued asking. I was getting a bit stressed now.

"Not really, no..." She was a bit uncertain again now.

I waved Jamie back to my table.

"Oh... I see you found a golden one. Good for you!" she said to me and smiled.

"You're new here, right? Brave of you to go all the way on your first night," she said to Pamela. "I mean, most of the girls doing that kind of stuff still only use red collars. It's so much safer to have sex here at the club, and with red it's only for an hour. Gold pays better of course, but you never know who will come and take you home...

"Anyway, what can I get you?" she asked.

"Thanks, we're fine for now," I rasped. Pamela's face was completely white.

"Red means one hour of sex here at the club. Gold means the customer can take me home!!" she said and downed her drink. Then she got up and went to the bar to fetch another.

"This is stupid!" I said as she returned. "When Mr. Adams said there would be some intimacy, I figured he meant that guys would grab at you and try to cup your breasts, not that you would be a sold as some whore!"

"I have to do this, otherwise they'll hurt us bad. I will endure this for us if you will still love me afterwards."

My wife, a whore. And she was already doing a good job at it too, dressing up more slutty than any other girls in this establishment with her extra short skirt and no panties. She was going to be on sale for strangers to take home, to fuck as they please. All this because we had done some bad choices. I remembered back when we first met, Pamela was eighteen and the hottest ass around. She usually wore revealing outfits in the hope of getting guys attention. It was first after we married that she got so stuck up. If I could have the whore sitting in front of me at home as well, it might not be so bad to let her go through with this.

"Ok, baby," I answered. "I'll continue to love you even after this."

"I swear I won't enjoy a second of it. Even though Mr. Adams gave me drugs to make me horny."

As she said it, a guy appeared at our table. He was in his mid forties wearing jeans and a light blur shirt. He looked a bit rough with two day beard and mustache. He reached out for my wife's neck and "Click!", attached a red leash to her collar. "I'll require some services from the lady here, if you don't mind," he said to me.

"I do mind," I thought and looked at my wife. She wasn't lying about being horny, that was for sure. I could see it in the way she her eyes were moving, and how her mouth was slightly opened. She got up, and asked the guy for one more minute.

Then she leaned forward towards me and whispered "Red means he gets to fuck me here in the club in front of you. If you are going to say no, now is the time, after this you'll be married to a whore." While leaning towards me, her rear was pointing towards the guy that had just bought her. I could see him he put his hand on her ass under the hem of her skirt. My wife let out a dampened yelp as he squeezed.

"Just promise me you will dress up like this normally too. You are not going to be a whore for other people and deny me the same pleasure!" I said firmly.

"Aaaahh...." Pamela moaned quietly. She was pushed gently forward, and I noticed her eyes roll upwards. From what I could see the guy had pushed a finger inside her.

"If that's what it takes... I'll be your whooo...ooohre. I'm sorry, baby... I'm just so hooohoorny... He has his finger inside me and it feel ssooooo goooood..." She pushed her hips gently backwards, pushing the finger inside her further in.

"A fine one you have here, soaking wet and ready for action," the guy said to me and grabbed the leash, pulling my wife, now a whore, towards his own table.

Mr. Adams came along and sat down at my table. "Mind if I sit down for a while?", he asked with a firm voice. I got the impression he wanted to keep an eye on me, and probably wouldn't take no for an answer, so I gestured for him to set down.

"So your wife is up for her first round, eh? Nice piece of ass that one too. Maybe I'll take her for a good round later as well. She is probably the hottest piece of ass here, and willing to go for a gold collar, too. We don't get many girls that are that willing," he laughed.

"We've been tricked into this! She had no idea the gold collar mean she would be a whore, " I said in my wife's defense. "Besides, you drugged Pamela to make her horny and willing to go along with this".

"Hardly, I warned you about intimacy, " Mr. Adams replied. "The assumption of what that meant was yours alone. And the stuff I gave her was only a piece of candy. If she is horny, its because she likes being here and is looking forward to performing!". He patted his hand on my back and laughed. "As I said, we don't get many girls like that!", he said, got up and left.

In the meantime, the my wife's client had tied her leash to the pole at his table. He was sitting in the couch and she was dancing on the table for him. Gyrating her hips slowly, up and down, from side to side. He was looking up her extremely short skirt, straight into her most precious. Their table was maybe ten feet away, his back facing me, and I could clearly see that there were no panties under my wife's skirt. Pamela had also taken the liberty of shaving completely bare.

My wife gyrated all the way down to a kneeling position and the guy put his hand on her thigh and moved it upwards toward her crotch. I couldn't see exactly what he was doing but from my wife's expression his fingers were working her. Her eyes rolled back a little bit and her mouth opened to let out another quiet moan. This time in a strangers ear. "A piece of candy... its because she likes it..." Mr. Adams had said. I was clearly going to fuck her brains out later tonight, she would never feel 'proper' again after tonight. If dirty turns her on, I'll make sure she is the dirtiest piece of ass in the neighborhood.

The client grabbed her hair and pulled her closer, kissing her on the mouth. Willingly, his whore opened her mouth and kissed him back, full tongue and all. He broke the kiss and moved his head to her ear, licking the earlobe, and whispering something I couldn't make out. Pamela looked him in the eyes, climbed down from the table and sat down next to him on the couch. He put his hands out to each side of the couch, and started watching the show on stage.

My whore of a wife bent down, towards his crotch, and disappeared behind the back of the couch. He sat there with his hands out along the couch, watching the show on for quite some time, then he moved his hands down towards where my wife supposedly was and started looking upwards instead of forward. He spasmed for a short while and moved his hands back up again. My wife came back into sight, her mouth shaped like an O and pieces of cum on her cheeks and lips. She gave me a guilty look, then looked at her client. While looking at him, she licked up the cum on her face and swallowed.

He gestured for his whore to get back on the table, and she started dancing in front of her client again. He pointed for her to be on her knees in front of him, and she knelt down. She held her hands upwards along the pole, keeping a constant eye contact with him, gyrating her hips towards him, to the sides and pressing against the pole. This was the sexiest I had ever seen her, and she was completely in another mans hands. I noticed now that I was really turned on by watching my wife performing for another man. She was a genuine whore and I liked it. My cock was rock hard and I was tempted to start jerking off.

I needed some cooling off, and looked around for my hostess to provide for me another beer. She saw me and came to my table.

"I tell you that new girl is a hot one. You should have seen her suck off that guy. Such vigor! Anyway, what can I get you?"

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bymrjones74© 8 comments/ 268909 views/ 214 favorites

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