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Message-ID: <32913asstr$1002924602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: sandia@texas.net
Subject: {ASSM} Kimberly  M+/F, Reluctant, Wife, D/s
Date: Fri, 12 Oct 2001 18:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

"Kimberly"
By Sandia.

All rights to author.
Do not post to pay sites.

Story codes:  M+/F, Reluctant, Wife, D/s.

Comments (or whatever) appreciated at sandia@texas.net.


"Kimberly"

My name is Kimberly.  I'm a thirty-two year old mom, married eleven years, with 
two children.  I work for a financial services corporation where I commute to 
work from our quiet, conservative little town.  I'm active in my church group 
as well as our civic organizations.  I've always tried to uphold the values of 
my religion, and to be a good Christian wife and mother.  This is how I became 
corrupted, and betrayed myself, as well as my husband.

It started at my job.  There was a man there, named Tony, in accounting, who 
had started several months earlier.  He was about seven or eight years younger 
than me, but very much more self-assured.  He was known around the company as 
an up and comer, "executive material," somebody marked for advancement.   He 
made no effort to hide his interest in me, from his first day in our division.  
I remember he smiled when he took my hand, then his eyes left mine and traveled 
all the way down my body and back up again.  I remember that I blushed and had 
to look away.  After that he came around to my workstation more often than he 
needed.  He would massage my neck, or help me with my work by guiding my hand 
on my computer.  Sometimes he would caress my hand while he was helping me, or 
rest his hand on my leg.  He said indecent, provocative things to me.  I would 
have to pull my hand away when he would start to caress me, and he would laugh 
and try again another day.  I made sure he knew I was married, but my ring 
didn't seem to mean a thing to him.  

He was a handsome Italian man, and very muscular from working out.  I admit I 
was little flattered.  I even found myself fantasizing about him at night.  
Some of the girls were jealous.  But I never seriously thought about doing 
anything with him, because of my marriage vows.  They were important to me, 
even if sometimes things were a little rocky with my husband.  Even back when I 
thought he was having an affair, I hadn't questioned them.  I also never 
thought of reporting him, though perhaps I should have.

Things went on that way, for maybe a year or more, before Tony learned my 
secret.  I had been exaggerating my expenses on my compensation vouchers.  At 
first it was just on parking.  But things were tight at home, and pretty soon I 
was cheating on the vouchers on a regular basis.  It wasn't a lot of money for 
the company, but it made a difference to me.  I spent the money on little 
things for myself, things that weren't in our budget.   It was an extra fifteen 
or twenty dollars a week.

The company never checked our receipts, so I wasn't expecting to get caught 
when Tony approached me in my cubicle.  He had a sheaf of papers in his hand.  
Leaning over me, he said, "You might want to take a look at these."

They were copies of vouchers I had submitted.  We have to turn in one form when 
we ask for the money and another at the end of the quarter.  My forms didn't 
match.  

"You know Kimberly, this is why they make people turn in two sets of vouchers."

I remember I had been really scared.  "Oh God, Tony, it must be a mistake!"
He laughed at me.  

"You know," he said "they're going to make you produce receipts now".  

I swallowed.  My hand was actually trembling.  My receipts would show I lied.  

I pleaded with him.  "Please let me change them," I begged him.  "I can't lose 
my job right now, Tony."

He smirked playfully at me.  "What's in it for me?" he asked.  Dropping the 
papers, he put his hand on my knee and slid one finger up under my dress.

I looked down at my lap and then back up at him.  "You'll let me change these, 
Tony?" I asked.

He smiled at me and began to slide his hand up my thigh, drawing my skirt up 
with it.  "Maybe, Kim," he said.  "It depends on how good you are."

Me continued to look at me, and when he saw I was going to let him, he leaned 
down and kissed me on the mouth.  His hand continued to move my dress aside, 
and soon I felt him through my panties.  I moved my legs for him and he began 
to rub me there.  I opened my legs for him.  I took his tongue in my mouth.  I 
had to promise to meet him later or he might have taken me in my cubicle.

I can't say I did what I did next just for my job.  At the time I thought it 
was the only reason, but the truth is, I gave in very easily.  The truth is I 
liked the way his hand felt on my thigh, the way his tongue felt in my mouth.  
The truth is, I never even tried to stop him.

I met him in a conference room at noon.  I made sure nobody saw me go in there, 
and shut the door carefully behind me.  I was ashamed when I saw him.  He 
grinned at me with a look of naked lust.  I was humiliated at how he looked at 
me when he saw me come in the room like that.  I felt like a slut, sneaking 
into a room to be with a man who was not my husband.  I almost backed out, but 
he took me in his arms and kissed me, roughly, pushing me against the door.  I 
felt his dick, already hard, pressing against my belly.  His hands caressed me 
through my dress, pressing against the backs of my thighs and my ass.  He 
stepped back and roughly pulled my dress off over my head and tossed it on the 
floor.  He admired me openly.  "Kimberly," he said, "you have no idea how long 
I've wanted to fuck you."  A guilty thrill ran through me when I heard him say 
that.  He told me he wanted to see the rest of me and I stripped off my panties 
and bra for him.  I was ashamed of myself for what I was doing, exposing myself 
to a man like that.  But I was no longer wavering.  My nipples were standing up 
on my chest and my clit was swollen.  I felt a slickness between my legs.  I 
submitted myself to him unthinkingly.  He kissed me again, holding my naked 
body close and shoving his tongue in my mouth.  He backed me onto the table and 
pulled my legs apart.  He openly admired me while I sat there, legs apart, 
grasping the edge of the table with my hands.  "This is going to be fucking 
great," he said, staring at my pussy.  He licked his finger, looked right at 
me, and then he pushed his finger inside me.  I remember I threw my head back 
when he did it.  He used one, two, and finally all four fingers to finger-fuck 
me on the table.  I felt myself begin to move against him.  I groaned very 
quietly.

He pulled his fingers out of me and he pushed me back on the table.  He pulled 
my hips up, and then bent his face down toward me.  When his tongue touched my 
clitoris I felt a rush of pleasure.  I squealed for him.  I covered my face 
with my hands as I felt him suck me into his mouth.  This was something a man 
had never done to me, though it was something I often thought about.  It felt 
even better than I'd imagined.  The pleasure was indescribable.  When I came I 
stuffed my fist into my mouth to stifle my cries, and then I moaned and 
slobbered around my fingers.  He stood up, his face slick with my come.  He 
studied me for a moment.  I remember I was lying there, my chest heaving from 
my orgasm, my legs still wide open for him.  I wondered what he'd do to me 
next.  "You are going to be one great fuck," he said.  Lying naked on the 
table, my legs spread for him, my cunt-juices dripping onto the conference room 
table, I didn't care how he talked to me.  It made me even wetter.  I wondered 
if his dick was bigger than my husband's, and then I found myself hoping that 
it was.

His dick, when he pulled it out, was indeed a big, fat dick, bigger than my 
husband's.  I raised my head so I could see it.  He motioned to me and I 
crawled toward him on the table.  He held it up to my lips, and I licked it.  
He put his fingers in my mouth and I licked and sucked his fingers for him 
too.  He rubbed his cock across my lips and cheeks.  A little bit of his come 
leaked out of his dick and stuck to my face.  It made me feel sexy, knowing it 
was there.  Then he turned me around so my pussy was facing him again.  He 
pulled my legs apart and laid his cock across my pussy.  My heart leaped in my 
chest when I felt it there.  He positioned it against my opening.

In that instant I felt a sense of panic, despite everything he'd already done 
to me.  I suddenly couldn't believe it was me, lying there, waiting for a man 
to shove his cock into me.  I had been loyal to my husband all those years, and 
I realized if I could leave, I would not have really cheated.  I wondered if he 
could make me pregnant.  (I had been trying with my own husband for years, but 
I realized this was different.)  I hadn't seen a condom, and I suddenly 
couldn't remember exactly where I was in my cycle.  I began to try to wiggle 
away from him, to try to say something, but he grabbed my hips.  He pulled my 
whole body onto him, plunging himself inside of me.  For an instant it hurt, he 
was so much bigger than I was used to.  I wanted to talk to him, to tell him he 
had to stop, at least get a condom.  I think I even managed "No!" but if did, 
he ignored me.  


He pinned me against the table, and savagely pounded me.  The small of my back 
was crushed.  The sensation was overpowering.  I was helplessly trapped under 
him, unable to move or cry out.  He fucked me hard, and he fucked me violently, 
pounding himself deeper and deeper into me, and jerking my body onto him with 
each thrust, completely filling a place in my cunt that had never before even 
been touched, until I began to feel myself beginning to respond to him.  My 
pussy clenched itself around him, waves of pleasure radiated from around his 
cock.  I was panting, now, and moaning.  

"Tell... me..." I heard him say, "how... much... you... like... getting... fucked..." I gasped 
and shook my head.  "Tell... me... how... much... you... LIKE... getting... FUCKED...!" he 
said. 

And then I found that I did want to tell him.  I put my hand on my mouth, and 
then I found myself speaking through my fingers.

"I do... I do..." I moaned.  "Oh God...  Oh God... Oh please... don't stop..."

"TELL ME!" he demanded.  He continued to pound me.

"OH GOD..." I moaned.  "Oh please...  please, please, oh please FUCK ME! Oh please 
fuck me, FUCK... ME...!"

I felt him pushing himself even deeper into me.  His cock was starting to 
throb.  "Oh God," I cried, "Oh God, please come in me... COME in my pussy!"  He 
leaned forward and squeezed my tits in his hands.  I put my hands on his hands, 
to goad him to squeeze me harder.

He groaned. I wrapped my legs around him, humping him with my pussy.  I came 
for him like that, anticipating his seed in my pussy, moaning around my 
fingers.  When he came in me, it felt so good I thought I would die.  

I worked the rest of the day with his come dripping into my panties.  


I wasn't ashamed until afterwards, when I opened the door to my home and saw my 
husband.  I hadn't cleaned myself yet, and for a moment I was positive he would 
know what I'd done.  I remember I almost ran to the bathroom in shame.  He 
didn't know, of course, and I didn't stop seeing Tony.  I had enjoyed what he 
had done to me, despite my feelings of remorse.  

I let him do me again the very next day.  When we did it there, at work, the 
possibility of getting caught made me that much hotter and wetter when we 
fucked.  He took me in the conference room again.  The door locks, and it's 
nearly soundproof.  We both knew the managers had keys, however, so we knew 
what we were doing was still very dangerous.  I remember telling myself I had 
no choice, that I had to go along with him to keep my job.

He kissed me again, on the mouth, and squeezed my breasts and pinched me.  He 
was even rougher with me this time, running his hands under my skirt and 
yanking my panties off.  He turned me around and pushed me down and flipped my 
skirt up over me.  He spread my legs for me.  He took me face down this time, 
and I was completely helpless again.  I knew we could be caught like this.  
When he penetrated me, I felt a little shock of guilt again, as I realized I 
was letting a man who was not my husband put his dick into me again, but I was 
sopping wet down there, and it began too feel good to feel guilty about.  After 
doing me like that for a while, he turned me around so we could fuck face-to-
face.  I remember how good it felt when he came in me.  I wrapped my legs 
around him and pulled him in as deep as I could.

He fucked me every day that week.  He took me in the bathroom, where he had me 
blow him on my knees.  He made me clean his cock with his tongue and then he 
fingered me to orgasm.  He used my panties to clean the come off my face.  
Another time he used them to wipe a mess we left on a table.  I put them in my 
purse and walked around with his come oozing down my thighs all day.  I even 
liked the slutty feeling this gave me, at least until I got home and saw my 
husband.  

That weekend I went to church and the guilt was unbearable.  I knew I had to 
repent.  I promised myself I would put a stop to it.  I told myself nothing was 
worth what I was letting Tony do to me; it was dangerous, deceitful, and 
degrading, as well as immoral.  

On Monday I let him fuck me again.  I felt powerless to stop it.  I let him 
drive me to a hotel, where he tied me down and fucked me like that.  I came 
while he threatened to put it in my ass.  Another day he took me to his 
apartment, where he made out with me in front of his girlfriend.  He made me 
kiss her, and then he made her leave so he could fuck me on their bed.  

I knew I was out of control.  I lived in terror of getting found out.  I was 
wracked with guilt.  I wanted to cry every time I said "no" to my husband, 
because I was still too sore from one of Tony's poundings, or I had marks on my 
breasts or thighs from what he'd done to me.  I felt even worse the one time I 
did let him come in me, mixing his sperm with Tony's.  All I could think about 
was how much better Tony's cock had felt inside me.  

I was relieved then, when Tony was temporarily assigned to another branch.  
There were rumors the assignment might become permanent, and I prayed that it 
would.  What we were doing was terrible, and sometimes when I was with my 
husband I could hardly breathe.  I told myself that if Tony did come back, I 
would never let him have me again, regardless of the consequences.  

Then things got much worse for me.  


One of the managers of our division called me into his office.  I had never 
been in his office before, and I wondered if I was in trouble.  It didn't occur 
to me at the time it might be about Tony.  He had been gone for weeks.  He shut 
the door, and told me to sit down.  He had a little stack of what looked like 
micro-cassettes on his desk.  He turned on a TV in the corner and what I saw 
there made me want to throw up.  It was me, naked from the waist down, with my 
mouth stuffed full of Tony's cock.  We were in the conference room, he was 
leaning against the table, and he looked straight at the camera before 
stripping off my blouse and bra.  He turned me around, so we were both facing 
the camera, and eased himself into me.  Soon he had me bouncing up and down on 
him, my breasts bobbing obscenely.  From the angle of the camera you could 
clearly see him sliding into me.  My face was contorted with pleasure.  I could 
remember that he had made me come like that, talking dirty to me.  Later on, I 
knew, he would use my panties to wipe the table.  

"This is against company policy," the manager said.  I could have died of shame 
right there.  "It's grounds for termination.  Automatic."  I couldn't bear to 
look at him.  Getting fired at that moment was the least of my concerns.  I 
wondered if he had taped everything I'd done for him.

"You know," he said, "the safest thing for me would be to send these to 
corporate headquarters.  Nobody would question that."

I glanced at him.  He was staring right at my chest.

"You would be fired, of course, once the board saw what was on them."

I looked back down again, too scared to talk.  I couldn't imagine the shame of 
what he was talking about.  I remembered once I'd been scared of being fired 
for stealing money.

"They would send the originals to the lawyers, in case you tried to litigate.  
There'd be copies, of course.  Those could get passed around for years."

My chest heaved.

"I wouldn't be surprised if some of those made it back to you, or your husband, 
at some point."

I moaned out loud when he said that.

"Kim," he said, "you're married, what ten, eleven years?"

I nodded.  I could feel myself starting to cry.  This seemed like a nightmare.

"You go to church on Sunday?"

I nodded again.

"You're Presbyterian, aren't you?"

Tears started running down my cheeks.

"They don't approve of this sort of thing, do they?"

I shook my head hopelessly.  "I'm... I'm so ashamed," I cried.  "Please," I 
said, "don't let anyone see them."

"What would your minister think about this?" he asked.

I let out a little sob.

"Or your husband?  Or your kids?"

I broke down crying.  I was horribly ashamed, and I was beginning to become 
afraid of HIM.  "I--I need my job," I cried.

"Kimberly," he said, "This isn't about your job.  This is about your being a 
whore.  Stand up."

I glanced at him.  I didn't see any hint of compassion in his face.  I climbed 
trembling to my feet.

"Tony won't be coming back from Detroit," he said, " and these tapes belong to 
me now."  

I looked at him, a small glimmer of hope forming inside me.

"Kimberly, listen to me.  I like these tapes.  I intend to keep them for 
myself.  But you have to do something for me."

"Anything, Mr. Lambert," I breathed.  "I'll do anything."  I stared at him with 
wide eyes and tears on my cheeks.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked.

I nodded anxiously.  I would do anything, though I had no idea yet what that 
would mean.

"Good," he said.  He watched me for a few moments.  Tremblingly, I raised my 
hand to my chest.  I unbuttoned the top button.  He smiled at me.  I undid the 
second, and he smiled more broadly.  I kept going until I was completely 
unbuttoned.  I looked down and saw my breasts swelling out from under the bra I 
was wearing.  I could feel my nipples pushing against the fabric.  "Keep going, 
Kimberly," he said, "I want to see your tits."  Soon I was standing in front of 
him in just my panties.  I glanced nervously at the windows behind his desk, 
and worried about the door to his office behind me.  Embarrassingly, my nipples 
were swollen and there was a damp spot on the front of my panties.

"Mr. Jones," I said, "Please let me go now."

He smiled at me.  "Kimberly," he said, "I don't think you understand the 
situation.  When you said you'd do anything for me, I think you meant it.  And 
I intend to exploit that to its full advantage."  He stopped smiling.  "In 
fact, you have to give everything to me:  If you do every thing I say from now 
on, I'll make sure nobody ever sees these.  If you disobey me in anything, 
ANYTHING, I'll not only send these to headquarters, I'll make sure everybody 
you know, every single person, gets a copy.  Do you understand?"

I collapsed back into my seat, my eyes filling with tears again.  This was even 
worse than I could have imagined.  "You can call me Master," he laughed.  It 
wasn't until later I learned he really meant that.

"Do you understand?" 

I nodded miserably.

"Do you agree?"

I was still crying, but I managed.  "I'll--I'll do anything.  But p--please, 
don't let any--anyone see them," I begged him.

He must have watched me crying for a while.  After some time I heard him 
putting the tapes away.  He told me to stand up, which I did.  I saw he had a 
camcorder on his desk.  "Strip for me Kimberly."  I glanced at the 
recorder.  "YES, I'm going to be taping you, Kimberly, and NO, there's not a 
damn thing you can do about it.  Now... take... off... your... clothes!"  

I wanted to cry again, but I was terrified, and I slipped my panties off my 
hips and onto the floor for him.  It was by far the most humiliating thing I'd 
done yet.  He was the next thing to a stranger to me.  He was utterly 
unattractive to me.  He was much older, balding, and paunchy.  He continued 
taping me for a while, panning up and down my body, including my face.  

I was ashamed to be standing naked before him, ashamed of all things I knew he 
had seen me do on tape, ashamed of the things I was afraid he was going to make 
me do next, but also ashamed of what my body was doing to me.  I could feel 
myself swelling and slickening between my legs, and my nipples were even harder 
than before.

He put the camera down and carefully set it on the edge of the desk, pointed at 
me.  

"Kim," he said, "from now on you will be my own personal slut.  You will do 
everything I tell you.  I will use you any way that pleases me.  You will not 
question anything I do to you.  Do you understand?"

I nodded, hanging my head.

"Say it back to me."

"I will do anything you... tell me to.  I will be... I will be your... personal... 
slut.  You will use me... anyway... that pleases you.  You can do whatever you want 
to me."

"Master," he said.

"M--master..." I said.

"Very good, Kim."  He looked down between my legs.  "Don't drip on my carpet, 
bitch."  He laughed at me.

He proceeded to ask me personal questions, about my sex life, my boyfriends, 
and my husband.  He asked me about what I'd done for all of them, and I told 
him.  I admitted I had enjoyed giving head to Tony, though I'd never done it 
for my husband.  I told him I had never had a man in my ass, though Tony had 
threatened to do me there.  I told him about all the things I'd done for Tony, 
including the time with his girlfriend.  When he was through, I felt like even 
more of a slut than ever.  I remember hoping no one on the street below could 
see me standing there.  

He ordered me to stand next to his desk.  He took an ink marker and 
wrote "SLUT" above my pussy and "CUNT" on each of my thighs.   He told me I was 
no longer allowed to fuck my husband without permission.  

Carefully aiming his recorder at me, he had me finger myself to orgasm.  I was 
surprised at how easy it was, and how hard I came.  When I was done, he put me 
on my knees and unbuttoned himself.  He rubbed his dick on my face and on my 
tits.  When come started to leak, he rubbed the come on my lips.  "Lick your 
lips, bitch," he ordered me.  I did it.  He tasted foul.  "Open your mouth," he 
ordered.  He was much smaller than Tony was, smaller even than my husband.  He 
put his dick in my mouth and ordered me to suck on it.  He slapped my face and 
ordered me to keep my teeth off him.  He took my head in his hands by my hair 
and started fucking my mouth.  Even Tony had never done me like this.  (Not 
that he could have fit.)  He slapped my face again when I started to gag.  When 
he came, he pulled out, and got his come all over my face and hair and tits, as 
well as in my mouth.  He spurted his come on my cheek, and on my eye, and in my 
hair.  He took my hand and rubbed the come into my skin.  It was sticky and 
disgusting and made me smell terrible.  

"Keep rubbing," he said.  "You're going to leave my office like that, and 
you're going to work the rest of the day with my come on your face.  If you 
don't want everyone to know, you'll rub as much of it in as you can."

I worked the rest of the day with Greg's come on my face.  When I got home I 
ran to the bathroom and scrubbed my skin raw.  I forgot what he'd written on me 
and Bill came within seconds of seeing it there.  When he reached for me in 
bed, I told him my period had come early that month.  


After that, Greg set the rules for me.  I was not allowed to fuck my husband 
without permission.  I was to wear skirts but never panties to work. I was to 
ask permission to go to the bathroom.  I was to wear the outfits he picked out 
for me.  Occasionally he inked epithets on my body; "SEX SLAVE" and "CUMSLUT" 
are examples.   I was not allowed to scrub them off unless he told me.  I was 
never allowed to say "no" to him.  I called him "Sir" in public; in private I 
called him "Master."  I was to refer to myself as "your slut," or "your 
slave."  You cannot imagine the humiliation of calling your boss at work and 
whispering, "Master, your slut needs to go to the bathroom."  After a while I 
got so used to calling him master, and even thinking it, I had to be careful 
not to call him that it in public too.

He was careful to keep what I did for him mostly private, but occasionally he 
did embarrass me in public too.  Once he made me leave my blouse unbuttoned to 
my waist.  He made me wear a lacy bra that barely covered me, and every man on 
the floor came to stare at my chest.  I heard several of the women talking 
about me later.  He made me learn a signal to make me to expose myself to him.  
I had to learn to spread my legs, or flash my tits on command.  Another time he 
made me proposition a man at another bank.  I was made to ask him to put his 
finger in me during a meeting.  Thankfully, he didn't try to do it.  But after 
that I knew rumors were spreading about me.  People looked at me at the office. 

Over time he became more and more demanding.  He would take me to hotel rooms, 
where he would tie me up and spank me, and pinch my nipples, and spank my 
clitoris.  He liked to see me cry.  He would do it until I begged him to fuck 
me, or to come on my face.  He forbade me using birth control.  He ordered me 
to tell him when my cycles were so he could fuck me when I was fertile.  (I did 
lie to him about that.)  I was terrified of coming up pregnant, and he enjoyed 
that.  He said he wanted to see me pregnant with his son.

Although my life at work had turned into a perfect hell, I tried to carry out 
the rest of my life as normally as possible.  I still went to church and to 
other functions.  I took care of my kids.  I tried to take care of my husband, 
as best I could.  I couldn't help thinking about it, though, and sometimes I 
would have what felt like panic attacks, where I would tremble and flush, 
terrified that everybody around me already knew.   

After a while, my husband did become suspicious.  He began asking questions 
about where I was and what I had been doing, and wondering why I no longer 
wanted him in bed.  My explanations sounded suspicious even to me.  I started 
crying the next day at work.  Greg called me into his office.  He told me he 
would still not let my husband fuck my pussy, but he had another solution.  

"Tonight," he said, "you will beg your husband for a spanking, and when he's 
through, you will let him fuck you in the ass."  I was mortified.  Bill was 
even more religious than I, and I knew he would not go through with either 
one.  "Trust me," he said, "wear your bra and panties, the set I had you buy.  
Get on your knees before him.  Beg him for it.  He will spank you.  While he's 
doing it, beg him to spank you harder.  Make sure he does it hard enough.  I 
want to see bruises on your ass tomorrow.  When he through, tell him there's 
something you've always wanted him to do to you.  Something you're ashamed to 
ask.  Tell him that you've always wanted to feel his hard throbbing cock in 
your ass.  He'll fuck you there, slut, trust me."

That night, I undressed and put on the bra and panties Greg had made me buy.  
The panties were made of silk, and hung loosely off my butt cheeks.  The bra 
was lacey and revealing.  It was the kind that pushed a woman's tits up and out 
for her.  I met him in the bedroom, where he had just started to 
undress.  "Honey," I said, sliding to my knees, "I have to ask you something."  
He was surprised to see me dressed like that.  "I--I" I said, "I need you to 
spank me."  I was too embarrassed to look at him and hung my head in shame.  I 
did have to literally beg him to get him to do it, but it was easier than I 
expected.  It didn't hurt at all at first, because he wasn't spanking hard, but 
I begged him to spank me harder.  The more I begged, the harder he spanked me.  
Before he finished, it hurt a lot!  But the pain felt good to me.  I felt like 
I deserved it.  The experience was so intense I almost forgot the ass fucking.  
He held me after.  I felt his dick hard against my thigh.  I started caressing 
it with my hand, and he began moving it against me.  I almost made him come 
before I remembered.  "Honey," I said, "there's something I've always wanted 
you to do to me..." I was surprised at how quickly he took me up on it.  It hurt 
me much more than the spanking had, and while it wasn't physically pleasurable, 
I enjoyed this pain too.  It felt good to make my husband come inside me, in a 
place no other man had yet been, and after everything I'd done to him, it felt 
right that his pleasure caused me pain.  I know my husband was trying to be 
gentle with me, at least at first, but in the end I was crying while he fucked 
me.  He didn't try to make me come after, probably thought I would not be able 
to, but I quietly rubbed myself to orgasm beside him. 

I showed the bruises to my Master the next day, and he was pleased with me.  He 
told me he would like to ass-fuck me himself, now that my husband had "broken 
me in."  He had me lick him to get him wet, and then he violated me there as 
well.  I didn't enjoy it at all, though he did let me finger myself while he 
did me.  He told me that while my ass still belonged to him as much as my cunt, 
I was to let my husband ass-fuck me whenever he wanted, since I didn't enjoy 
it.  That was infrequent at first, but became more frequent over time, after my 
husband realized he could have me there whenever he wanted.  I'm sure he 
thought I'd become some sort of pervert.  (Which in a sense I had.)  I was 
happy that I was able to please him again, though I never got over the sense of 
violation.  I found myself wondering, sometimes, if he was losing respect for 
me.

This went on for about eleven months.  Once or twice a week my Master would 
take me into his office, where he would make me get myself off for him, or fuck 
me, or make me watch his tapes.  Every month or so he would take me to a 
hotel.  I began to sense we was losing interest in his game, and I hoped he 
might lose interest altogether.  

Then it happened.  I was coming out of the shower, and my husband was standing 
right there.  I don't know how I was so careless.  He saw a mark Greg had left 
on me.  When he asked me about it I tried to stammer out an answer, but then I 
broke down crying.  Before I knew it I was telling him everything.  I remember 
I was lying naked on the floor, bawling and sobbing.  He was holding me.  I 
expected him to hit me, to beat me, to throw me out of the house or abandon 
me.  Instead he told me he loved me.  He said he would never leave me.  He told 
me he would stay with me no matter what.  I felt his cock swollen through his 
clothes and I unbuttoned him.  I took him out and lovingly kissed and stroked 
him.  I made love to his cock with my mouth.  I sucked him into my mouth and he 
held my head in his hands while I let him come there.  I remember he moaned out 
loud while he flooded my mouth with his come.  I looked up at his face.  I 
could feel his come dribbling down my face while he looked at me and I could 
still see lust in his eyes.  I told him more about what I had done and I 
watched as his cock started to swell again.  I should have been disgusted, but 
I was not.  I wanted to feel him inside me.  I wanted him to see the tapes and 
to fuck me while he watched them.  I wanted him to see me get fucked by other 
men.  I bent myself over the bed rail for him, and I asked him to spank me, if 
he wanted.  I remember telling him what a slut and a whore I was while he was 
doing it.  I cried, but I was not unhappy.  Afterwards he entered me hard and 
rough.  While he was fucking me I told him I was not on any kind of birth 
control, and he came inside me.  Afterwards he held me and told me he would 
raise my child as his own, regardless.  I masturbated myself to orgasm in his 
arms.      

I thought my husband knowing would give my master less control over me.  But I 
found now that I had my husband's knowledge, I no longer minded being master's 
slave so much.  I sometimes even looked forward to our sessions, and I always 
told my husband about them afterwards.  He would take me in the same way, then, 
filling my pussy or my ass with his come after master had had me there.  I was 
getting fucked by two men on a regular basis now, and I found I was getting 
used to it.  In fact, if anything, I found myself wanting more.  

So when master told me he was going to a party, and he wanted me to come, I 
wasn't surprised when I felt a little tingle between my legs.  I asked him if 
my husband could come and he eagerly agreed.  He gave me a dirty little smile, 
but I was not ashamed.  Or rather, I was ashamed, for both of us, but more 
excited than embarrassed.

Master and I drove to the place together.  It was a kind of reunion for some of 
his war buddies.  It was held in a hotel, where my master had gotten a room.  
There were about fifty people there, including relatives of some of the 
veterans.  Master had me wear a French maid's uniform, indecently short, and 
showing lots of cleavage, including the lacy white bra he'd had me put on 
underneath.  I tried to pretend I worked for the hotel, serving drinks and 
food, but no one else was dressed that way, so it was a little silly.  I 
gathered a lot of looks, but fortunately nobody asked me why exactly I was 
there.  My husband showed up a little later.  I pretended I didn't know him, 
and he melted into the background.  Around eleven, my master gathered up a few 
of his friends and took them up to his suite.  They were not all older men, I 
noticed.  Some were younger men, about my age, and one of the men had a woman 
with him.  She was very attractive, with sleek black hair, and large round 
breasts.  I saw my husband slip into the elevator soon after.  I went to the 
bar, and ordered two martinis, which I drank down as fast as I could.  Then I 
ordered another.  This was after drinking all night.

When it was my time to go up, I was still very nervous, though my head was 
swimming from the booze.  My master would have told them, I knew, that I had 
agreed to be the "entertainment."  He had put me under strict instructions to 
go along with them, and to do whatever anybody told me.  I knew, at least, that 
I would soon be naked in front of a group of strangers, but I didn't know what 
else might happen.    

I slipped into the room without knocking.  It was very dark, and the 
conversation ended when I entered.  I stood for a minute, trying to see who was 
there.  Then my master told me to come forward, to stand in the light, where a 
place had been cleared for me.  They had put a blanket on the floor for me.  I 
did it, and he turned on some music for me.  It was strong sensuous music with 
a good beat, and I found I did feel like dancing.  I wanted to be sexy for 
them, for my husband, for everyone.  I looked around for him.  I knew he was 
there.  I started swaying to the music, and moving my hips.  I heard a low 
whistle, and I felt a rush of excitement run through me.  Somebody clapped, and 
I started moving my hips more provocatively for them.  I unbuttoned the top 
button of my uniform, and then the second one.  I couldn't see what they were 
doing, but I felt that they appreciated me, that they wanted to see me, that 
they wanted me.  I ran my hands up between my thighs.  I lifted my skirt for 
them and ran my hands over the front of my panties.  I started bucking my hips 
harder and touched myself with both hands between my legs.  I heard murmurs of 
appreciation, and I unbuttoned the third button on my top.  I slipped the top 
off my shoulders, showing them the lacy white bra my master had picked for 
me.  "Take if off!" I heard a man say.  I cupped my breasts in my hands and 
looked down at them.  I massaged my breasts for them and ran my fingers over my 
nipples and squeezed them.  I put one hand back between my legs while I 
squeezed and pinched myself with the other.  "Let's see your tits!" I heard a 
man say.  I slipped the straps off my shoulder.  I held my bra in my hands for 
a moment, then I let it slip down over my waist.  I stood there for a minute 
letting them see me, while I continued to move my hips for them.  Several men 
began to clap for me.  I slipped my hands down my sides and slid them under the 
dress, which was now hanging from my waist.  I started to slowly slither out of 
it.  I was really, really turned on by now.  I was breathing heavy and moving 
my hips almost involuntarily.  My chest was heaving.  My mouth was open and I 
was looking up and imagining what might happen next.  Soon my dress and my bra 
were lying at my feet.  I was dancing naked in front of everyone in only my 
panties.  They were a red thong kind of a thing, and only a little lace in the 
front.  I knew they could see almost everything.  Still, I found the panties 
were the hardest part.  I touched myself through them for them, and I felt my 
wetness there.  They clapped and cheered for me, and I slipped my hands under 
them and touched myself.  I remember I moaned for them when I did that.  Still 
I did not take them off.  I continued to dance, while they chanted to see my 
pussy.  

I felt hands on my hips then, and suddenly they were pulled out from under me.  
I reflexively clutched my hands to my breasts (silly, wasn't I?) and I heard 
everyone cheering and clapping, even the woman was cheering for me.  I took my 
hands down and danced for them again.  I caressed myself.  The slickness from 
between my legs was spreading down my thighs.  I knew they could see my nipples 
standing straight out on my chest.  I put my hands back between my legs for 
them.  I stroked myself there.  I knew they wanted to see more.  I slipped my 
finger inside myself.  I moaned for them when I did it.  After a while I 
slipped the finger back out.  I rubbed it on my face, on my lips.  I slipped it 
into my mouth.  I heard my master say to lie down.

I did it for him.  I spread my legs for everyone, and continued to play with 
myself.  I felt a hand on my thigh.  I wanted it then.  I did want it.  I let 
out a moan for him, to encourage him.  He began to caress me there, and then I 
felt his hand on my pussy.  I moved my own hands away and lifted my thighs for 
him.  I wanted him inside me then, whoever he was.  I wanted my husband to see 
me be entered by another man.  He slipped his fingers into my cunt, and I heard 
more cheering.  I moaned for all of them, to goad them on.  I could hear a 
squishing noise as he slipped his fingers in and out of me.  I groaned for 
them.  I closed my eyes.  I ground my hips against the stranger's fingers.  I 
let him finger me like that for a while, feeling an enormous amount of pleasure 
build up inside me while I thought of everyone watching my naked body on the 
floor.  Another man knelt beside me.  I looked up at him, mouth open, panting.  
His eyes were blue, and he had thick blond hair.  He smiled at me and gathered 
up one of my tits in his hands and squeezed, forcing my nipple to stand out 
even more rigidly.  He leaned over and licked my nipple with his tongue.  I 
groaned again.  I couldn't believe how good I felt.  He took my nipple in his 
mouth and sucked on me.  I came for the first time like that, humping one man's 
hand, while another man suckled my tit.  I imagined my husband somewhere, 
watching me as I came.  I felt the hand come out of my pussy.  He held his hand 
near my lips, and I could smell myself on him.  I willingly took his fingers in 
my mouth.  I licked and sucked them for everyone.  

The blond man took his cock out of his pants and laid it up across my face.  I 
opened my mouth for him and slipped my tongue out between my lips so he could 
rub it across its wetness.  He groaned as he did this, and I looked and caught 
sight of my husband standing in the background.  He had a look of lust on his 
face.  I couldn't see it, but I imagined him rubbing himself through his pants 
while he watched this stranger rub his cock across my lips.  Several of the men 
were beginning to unbuckle.  I saw the woman too.  She was fully clothed, but 
leaning against the man she was with (her husband?) who held her from behind.  
I could see both her hands clasped against the place between her legs.  She was 
watching me intently.  I looked back at the cock that was rubbing across my 
lips and tongue.  I took him in my mouth then.  I tasted the come that was 
already beginning to leak out of him.  I took him in my hands and gently 
stroked it.  I moaned again around the man's cock, and he put his hand on my 
cheek and began to caress my face and neck.  I sucked powerfully on him, trying 
to draw his come into my mouth.  He took my tit in his hand and squeezed it.  I 
flipped my tongue under his cock, hoping to make him come.  I felt another man 
slide a finger into my pussy.  I felt the cock in my mouth jerk and a warm jet 
of sticky fluid landed on my tongue.  I took him out of my mouth and aimed his 
cock at my lips and tongue, so everyone could see him come on me.  I rubbed his 
cock on all over my face as he continued to come, leaving trails of viscous 
fluid all over me.  I heard a man--I hoped it was my husband--groan as I did 
this.  I licked my lips and took a long strand of sticky come in my mouth while 
they watched me.  I could see the looks of lust on every face now.  Every man 
there, I could tell, was waiting for his turn with me.  

I sucked at least a half a dozen men on that blanket.  Their come landed on my 
face, in my hair, and on my breasts, as well as down my throat and on my 
tongue.  One man masturbated on my pussy.  Another had me hold my tits together 
for him and fucked me in between them.  I held my head up so I could look watch 
his cock fucking my titties.  I opened my mouth for him when he started to come 
so a little glob of it got on my tongue.  The rest sprayed on my lips, my chin, 
my neck, and my chest.   He wiped his dick on my nipple when he was done.  They 
stuck their fingers in my pussy.  Every time one of them would come on me I 
would gather up a little of the jism and make sure I got some in my mouth, even 
if I'd gotten some there already.   

After a while, they picked me up and flipped me over the back of a couch.  I 
knew my husband was about to see me get my pussy fucked.  The idea was 
enormously arousing to me.  I tried to move my hips to meet them, as each one 
put his thing inside me.  As each one would come inside me, I would think of my 
husband watching me.  I came like that, in front of all of them, thinking of 
all the come inside me and imagining how I looked, their come leaking out of my 
pussy-lips, and dripping down my thighs.  

I must have gotten fucked another six or eight times on the couch before they 
put me back on the floor again.  Then the only woman in the group came 
forward.  She lifted her skirt and I knew what she wanted me to do.  I wasn't 
disgusted, those this thought had always made me sick before.  I only hoped I 
could make her come for them.  I saw her wedding ring then.  Her husband 
encouraged her as she nervously stepped over me.  I wondered if he had fucked 
me yet.  When she put her pussy on my face, I ate her enthusiastically.  I ate 
her knowing her husband watched.  I put my hands between my legs while I 
thought of him looking at her face, and I did make her come.  She ground her 
pussy onto me while I licked and sucked.  She made a high-pitched whine while 
she came and arched her back above me.  When she was done, she left the room 
with her husband, hand in hand.  The men picked me up and put me back on the 
couch.  Master announced I liked to get it in the ass, and a couple of them did 
take me there, but the others continued to use my cunt.  I remember wondering 
who was in me, but I couldn't see, and I never did learn who fucked me where.  
I did see my husband though, while they were doing this and I was pretty sure 
he hadn't fucked me yet.  

When the couple returned from the other room, they took me down off the couch 
again and put me back on the floor.  The husband took his cock, which was limp 
and wet, and had me clean it for him with my lips and tongue.  As he started to 
swell, I saw him look at his wife, who nodded and smiled at him.  He inserted 
it in my mouth, and rubbed it on my tongue.  I licked and sucked it for him.  
When he came, he left a fresh glob of come on my lips and tongue.  

By now I'd been fucked more times than I could count.  My face was covered with 
come, and it was oozing out of every hole.  It was drying in my hair, and on my 
face, and on my tits.  They'd fucked my ass, my cunt, my mouth, and my tits.  I 
had lost track of the number of times they'd come on me and in me.   I had come 
twice already myself, and still I found I wanted more.  I looked around, lying 
on the floor, still breathing heavy, and coated and covered with come.  

Greg motioned toward my husband, whom I finally saw, standing near the 
back.  "This is the husband," he said.  Everybody turned to him.  He looked 
like the deer in the headlights.  I don't think he expected them to know 
that.  "He," master said, "gets the honor of the last fuck of the night."  My 
husband stood there.  I licked my lips.  "Please, honey," I said, "please come 
fuck me."  The men cheered.

He stepped forward and looked down at me.  I know I looked a mess.  I was come-
splattered and distended.  He had watched every man there take me in every 
conceivable way and in every conceivable place.  I licked my lips again.  I 
pleaded with my eyes.  

He unbuckled and dropped his pants.  His cock was standing straight up, as hard 
as I'd ever seen it. The people cheered again.   It wasn't wet or shiny, and I 
knew he hadn't had me yet.  He kneeled down between my legs.  "Are you ready 
for me, sweetheart?" he whispered.  I eagerly nodded yes.  He entered me 
easily; I could barely even feel it.  He leaned down over me.  "Your pussy 
feels like water," he said.  I nodded happily.  "I have gobs and gobs of come 
inside me."  He took my face in his hands.  I could feel the come sticking to 
his fingers.  "I love you," he said, as he started to buck his hips against 
me.  I nearly cried at that.  I put my arms around him.  He was the only one 
there who fucked me face to face.  As he kissed my lips, I knew he could taste 
the come on me.  I felt an orgasm start to build in my pussy.  I thought of all 
the men he'd seen use me that night, and all the things he'd seen me do.  I 
thought of all the semen inside me, squishing around his cock, and as I did, I 
began to orgasm there beneath him.  He came soon after, leaving the last load 
of come in my pussy.   

We slept there together that night, cuddling in the come soaked blanket.  When 
we woke up, everybody was gone, including my master.  We drove home together.  

I missed my next period, exactly two weeks later.  It's possible, of course, 
that it was my husband, but we both know the odds are against it.  My husband 
was good to his word, and we're happily raising our third child.  Master seemed 
to lose interest in me, after I started to show.  I think he was disappointed 
that I never caught, until the night of the party.  He retired in my fifth 
month and moved to Arizona, where he said he had family.  He gave us all the 
tapes he had, or at least he said he did, though I have my doubts about that.  
In a certain way, I rather hope he still has some, and that he watches me 
sometimes in Arizona.  

I have a "normal" life now.  I go to church.  I go to PTA.  I rarely feel 
guilty anymore.  

I haven't tried to repent.  The truth is, I sort of miss my life as a sex-
slave.  Sometimes I find myself wondering if I could look up Tony in Detroit, 
or wherever he is now.  I imagine myself "accidentally" leaving the tapes where 
they could be found.  Even in church I do this, and I'll have to shift in my 
seat, because of the feeling between my legs.

I also wonder if my husband misses the slutty me.  He hasn't said.  

I guess I'm like Augustine, in Confessions: "Lord, save me from temptation... but 
not just yet."

This is my confession to you, (Sandia).  You can post it, if you like.  Just 
change the names and places.

--Kimberly.

PS--Tony is still in Detroit.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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