Domming Daughter Dani – Part 27 of 51 – LESSONS FROM THE DUTCH MASTER

By Dutchboy

copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution Only (CC BY) License. You can copy it, paste it, change it, try and get some other fool to pay you money for it. I don’t care. Just acknowledge my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront about the fact that you changed it. If that ain’t a square deal, I’ll kiss your ass.

Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo, spanking, mmf and mff. 

Email: mrdutchmaster@gmail.com

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We skipped the chain styling salons and I booked Caryn an appointment at the most expensive foo-foo place in town. That first dye job and style left nothing but coins in our bank account. The poof who cut and dyed Caryn’s hair walked around her in the chair for ten minutes, chewing his pinkie cuticle and clucking his tongue.

I did the talking and Poof quickly picked up on the awkward reality that Caryn was a pet. He stopped talking to her and addressed me directly.  

“We have to do something about these eyebrows,” he said to me.

I shrugged. “Like what?”

“Well, first I will call Animal Control to come chase out the little woodland creatures living in them. Then I will shape them and color them to match her hair.”

I had never really noticed Caryn’s eyebrows, but I guess they were rather thick for a girl.

“There is a beautiful girl under this mop,” the poof said to me, lifting lengths of Caryn’s muddled tresses and sneering down into the roots. “Why don’t you go get something to eat. I think you might be amazed at what you find when you come back.”

“Okay,” I shrugged. “But don’t cut it too short. Keep it long.”

“So you have said,” sighed the poof, “a thousand times.  Go. Come back in three hours.”

“Three hours?”

“When we finish with hair and eyebrow shapings,” said the poof, “this wretched thing and I are going to have a little clinic about how to wear makeup correctly. Three hours.”

Three hours. 

Fuck if the poof was not right. I literally, LITERALLY did not recognize Caryn when I walked back in the shop. I didn’t recognize her until she smiled at me. FUCK!

All the little nagging exceptions that kept Caryn from being a total knockout had been sanded away. For all my trepidations about whether I wanted her to go to a more pronounced blond, redhead, or brunette color, blond turned out to suit her perfectly. I’m on record as saying that I can take or leave blondes, but Caryn made an absolutely stunning blonde. 

And her eyebrows... the poof was dead-on. Where Caryn had once had two thick dashes of brownish-red eyebrows, she now had two wispy cursive golden commas that made her eyes look massive. Even more than the smoking hot hair style and the perfect golden blend color, the thin girly eyebrows took Caryn’s face to another level.

Fucking WOW!

Caryn started to cry happy tears when she saw how slackjawed I was.

“Don’t cry for God’s sakes, Honey,” the poof chided her, “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Makeup. Yeah. Caryn was wearing makeup too. Lots of eye liner and a perfect eye shadow blend that was invisible and unmistakable at the same time.

“I love it,” I said.

“So do I,” Caryn said. “So do I. I look beautiful. Totally beautiful. Thank you, Sweetie!”

I smiled. Caryn looked back into the mirror in front of her and tousled her head back and forth to make the blond waves bounce and shimmer. 

Caryn didn’t know that she was less than a week from being raped by my buddy Dutch.  Dutch had been impressed by Caryn’s photograph. All I could think as I stood in the salon was “Dutch is going to shit twice and die when he shows up to help me rape my wife and finds this hot little piece of ass waiting for him.”

Caryn was like a new toy. I wanted to play with her and sex her for the first time in months. 

I didn’t.

It was especially hard to keep my hands off her when I had her shave her thin little landing strip bush and go completely bare between her legs. The landing strip bush was a power game that I had thought up before we got married. Caryn had to keep her bush within my specifications; No more than two of my fingers wide, no hair below her clit, when I put my pinkie on the middle of her clit the height of the strip couldn’t extend higher than my index finger, and the nap could be so tall that it extended past the gaps between my fingers. This was a pretty good Dom game because 1.) It involved constant inspections requiring my hand all over Caryn’s pussy, and 2.) It was really hard for Caryn to get perfect because the measurement was MY hand, not hers. If the height or width of her bush exceeded my dictates, Caryn got ten smacks on her pussy. If I caught her trying to overcompensate by shaving away too much bush, she got thirty hard pussy swats.

I think I mentioned how Caryn had really pink pink nipples. Glow in the dark electric Barbie pink. So also she had a bright pink twat to match, but because her pussy didn’t have hardly any protrusion of pussy lips, it wasn’t really an overt turn-on unless I was munching away on that juicy gash.

As much as I liked the thin strip of her pubes, it hid that selling point of bright pink twat.

After Caryn went blond, the dark bush seemed to mess with her blonde perfection. I ordered it gone. Of course that required close inspection as well.

I checked for stubble with a squirt of baby oil and my finger tips all over her mound. Caryn’s pussy was so smooth that it damn near squeaked. Her slut clit bubbled out and tried to beckon my slippery fingers for some attention. Pussy juice puddled in her fuck hole. I shaved her asshole clean and smooth. I told her to get her panties back on.

I was going to wait. I had planned the head game-to-end-all head games, and patience was the key.

Every night, Caryn had to kneel at the foot of the bed and beg me to allow her into my bed. That had been the game for a while, but I almost always let her on the bed as long as she seemed sincere. For a week I denied her and forced her to sleep in the floor like a dog. My anger was fading, and sometimes it was hard to be an asshole. I knew I had to be strong if we were going to heal our scars and get past our issues.

Caryn got desperate. Every little perfunctory marital kiss became an attempt by her to slip her tongue into my mouth and spark a hot tumble.

At work Caryn was getting endless complements on her new look. As Caryn walked around campus, she caught boys turning their heads to look her over. Her ego was soaring.

Then she came home and got “the treatment” from me.

I kept busy by focusing on my job and preparing my lawyer to make contact with Maxy’s family.

Dutch was a traveling salesman for a big electronics company. His job was to drive around the Midwest and try and get saps like me to commit to buying our small components from him. Our little think tank didn’t buy a lot of raw electronics, but we did keep a fair amount of parts on hand to make prototype boards and hand-soldered components to test before we sent schematics to the Corporate Machine in Ohio.

I don’t know why the older guys in the office didn’t want to deal with salesmen. It didn’t bother me at all. Pretty soon, I was the go-to guy whenever a salesman showed up in the lobby. I was the first one to learn about new components hitting the market. A lot of the old dudes in the office didn’t want to learn about anything that wasn’t a triac, resistor, or capacitor. If it wasn’t in their 1975 text book, a dinosaur engineer didn’t need to know it. We were charged with breaking the old paradigms, and those Old Skool dinosaurs were the ones who eventually got pushed out of the way. My interest in how we could leverage the new generation of solid state components was the reason I did so well at our outpost.

I thought Dutch was a hoot. He was one of my favorite salesmen. He was built a little bit like Caryn’s dad, only not as sinewy and hard. Dutch was around six feet tall. His hair wasn’t really a mullet, but it was longer at the collar. He was wide in the shoulders and had a perpetual Fred Flintstone five o’clock shadow painted on his big jaw. He had that tell-tale shaving scoop at his neckline that indicated he was probably another rug chest.

Dutch was in his mid 30s and had the personality of a natural salesman, always easygoing and fluid. He had a big city cynicism, but talked in the colorful parlance of a country boy. If you asked him how he was doing it was always something off-the-wall.

“I’m fine as frog’s hair.”

“Happy as a puppy with two tails.”

“If I were any better, I’d be twins.”

The early 90s were the last gasps of the kickback era. Dutch was always trying to give me tickets to sporting events in Chicago, or St. Louis, or Nashville. He always had a pocket full of hot concert tickets for venues in Paducha, Louisville, Memphis, and Branson.

I wasn’t going to drive our old Monte Carlo that far just to use a free ticket.  All the entertainment I needed was somewhere in our little university burg.

When Dutch came to town we eventually stopped meeting up at my office and started going out drinking together. He stopped being a salesman and became more of an older brother figure. Dutch was married and lived in Paducha. He had a young girlfriend, a grad student at University of Illinois Carbondale. I thought the pictures of his wife were hotter than the pictures of his girlfriend. But hey. Sometimes all middle age guys care about is “young.”

Dutch had a lot of interesting adventures. Even with two steady streams of cocksucking, his girl radar was always spinning when he was on the road. If there was a pretty girl somewhere in our bar, Dutch would have her laughing and sitting next to us in less than a half hour.  I eventually got to hear all about Dutch’s exploits while leaning against a coaster and unpeeling labels from a beer bottle. One time, after a few drinks, I started spilling my guts about my problems with Caryn and her affair. Dutch said all the right things. Can you imagine? Both of us with wives and steady girlfriends, drinking Scotch and bitching about cheating women. Amazing.

“Got a picture?” Dutch asked.

I flipped open my wallet and opened the glycine sleeves to a picture I took of Caryn leaning against the rail on our apartment balcony. It had been a hot day and Caryn was wearing something simple with spaghetti straps that made her big cleavage line seem longer than it should have been. Her face was glowing and she had a wan smile. It was a damn good picture of Caryn, even before her transformation.

“GOD DAMN, Son!” Dutch nearly snorted his drink.

“What?”

“She’s yummy. Wow. Looks like she’d be worth fightin’ for.”

“ ‘You show me the prettiest wife in the world’...” I started.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dutch finished, “ ‘...and I’ll show you a husband who is tired of looking at her pussy.’ But still, man. That were my roundheels wife? Hell, I’d just spank the shit out her until she was too sore to shake her ass for anybody else.“

That’s when I knew I had found a kindred spirit.

“I’ve gotten a little lax in that department,” I said. “Now I’m afraid that I’d have a hard time stopping once I started. I’m so fucking mad that I’d just as likely kill her.”

“Can’t do that,” Dutch nodded slowly. “That pale skin of yours? You’d look shitty in Orange, my man. You don’t have the skin tone to pull off the prison jumpsuit thing.”

“You know me. Ever the fashion plate.”

“Serslee, Skipper,” Dutch slurred. “You know a spanking isn’t about busting a girl’s ass. It’s about bruising her ego. The humiliation is way more effective at modifying behavior than some handprints on her ass.”

“I know,” I said. “I know. But Caryn is... different. She comes from a really fucked up childhood. She seems to have this bottomless pit of an ego. So far she’s been able to take more humiliation than I can think up.” I took a drink. “And I can think up a lot. Trust me.”

“Oh,” Dutch nodded. “One of those, huh?”

“What?”

“Daddy issues,” Dutch said knowingly.

“In spades.”

“Yeah, those particular submissive types can be tough nuts to crack. The kind of girl where you think up the sickest sex shit you can think of, and then they cry and do it anyway, and then they say, ‘Is that it? Is that all you got?’”

“Exactly.”

“And you think she’s seen all your tricks,” Dutch said.

“Exactly.”

“Huhn. Yeah,” Dutch smiled. “But yaknow... she hasn’t seen all mine, has she?”

It took a while for Dutch’s angle to seep through my thick skull. The conversation changed to sports. We drank some more. I was the one who brought it back.

“So what did you have in mind, for Caryn?”

“Hey man, I don’t want to spook you. I just thought that -- yaknow -- as a decorated veteran of the Pussy Wars, I might be able to make the tag and help you out. Yaknow. On your terms, of course.”

“You’d beat Caryn’s ass?”

“Yes and no. I’d beat her ass, sure, but we’re talking about the deeper target, right? Humiliation. Right?”

“I’m tellin’ ya,” I said. “I’ve been down that road. I’ve made her tell me stuff she didn’t want to tell me.”

“She’s told you about the creepy old dude she fucked?”

“No,” I said, “Everything but that. I haven’t asked her about that.”

Dutch shook his head, “No man. You gotta. You gotta know every fucking thing. Every fucking sex move that went on between ‘em. You have to. That’s the only way to get over this shit. You can’t let it fester.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “That shit has worked with other stuff she’s done when we were just dating, but this is different. I’m really really fucking angry now. I don’t know if I could take it.”

“So...” Dutch said. “Have her act it out with me. While you watch. I’ll make her say all the shit and do all the shit she did with the creepy old guy. Then I’ll break her ass. Then you take a turn at breaking her ass. If it looks like things are getting out of hand, you’ll have me there to rein you in. Or... yaknow... if everything goes wrong, we’d both need an alibi.”

I tried to imagine watching Dutch dom my wife. It was difficult to fathom. It would be kind of like making her fuck Troy, only I’d see every little bit of it for myself, and Dutch would be a stand-in for knowing all the shit that transpired with Caryn’s creepy old dude former lover.

I told Dutch I’d think it over. 

After Caryn said what she said at our kitchen table summit about me being “creative” enough to find a way to get even with her, I called Dutch and we started finalizing the details.

Dutch had a hotel room booked for a Sunday night when the place would be mostly empty. We didn’t want Caryn screams to alert the neighbors when things got rough. The walls of our apartment were way too thin for a decent spanking. Dutch was going to buy a ball gag, just to make sure things didn’t get too loud. I didn’t say anything about Caryn’s incestuous history with ball gags. I thought it would be interesting to see her expression when Dutch presented it. I booked a young townie girl from our apartment complex to babysit Dani for the better part of a whole day.

Then all I had to do was wait and try not to fuck Caryn or jerk off for eight days. Let it all boil up into a big dramatic, festering pimple.

Eight batshit-crazy days. Eight days of me piling the cruel head games on Caryn. Eight days of my cock twitching non-stop and making the hours at work go slooooooow. Eight days of the creeping realization that I was actually NOT going to call Dutch and call it off. Yes, yes I was. No I wasn’t. Yes I was. No I wasn’t. Fuck! Eight days to feel that weird, jealous tornado in my chest pick up steam and build and build while I thought about what it would be like to sit in a chair and watch my buddy have rough sex with my wife and the mother of my child.

Even thinking back, I can feel my spleen clinch up and burn as I remember how emotionally all-over-the map I was during that long week. Like I mentioned 70 thousand words ago, there’s a line between fantasizing about doing something wild and crazy and actually going through with it, whether that line is a pedo line or a whoring-out-your-wife line.

We all think about stuff on the other side of a “line.”  Most of us don’t cross the line.

I crossed it.

I told Caryn to go ahead and book three days of vacation, Monday through Wednesday. She asked me why and a glared at her until she nodded slowly.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I guess it’s time, huh?”

Sunday after dinner I took Danielle to the sitter’s apartment with a fully provisioned diaper bag. Caryn, knew it was game-on.

When I arrived back in the apartment, Caryn was bare naked and kneeling on the living room floor. She looked so fucking good, I wanted to fuck her senseless right then and there, but I knew I’d never go through with taking her to Dutch if my balls were empty.

“Get dressed,” I said. “We’re going out.”

Caryn gave me a curious look. “Fancy or casual?”

“What’s the diff?”

“I have to know how to dress,” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh,” I said. “I’ve got that taken care of.” I went downstairs into our storage area of the basement, got the box Caryn had tried to hide from me, and brought it back upstairs to our apartment. As soon as I walked through the door, Caryn saw the box and looked ill.

I turned the box upside down. First the lid peeled open, then all Caryn’s secret slut clothes tumbled into the floor. I’d never seen Caryn wear any of it before. Good thigh-high stockings with a solid seam. A garter to hold the stockings up. A half-cup underbra.  A white leather mini-skirt and a matching crop top, something a biker girl would wear to a pool hall. A pair of shiny white leather stiletto stripper heels that looked impossible to walk in.

“I’m guessing you wore these for your boyfriend,” I said. “Looks like some pretty expensive slut gear here. Not sure if I missed all this money coming out of our bank account when we were supposed to be saving for a down payment on a house or... or...”  I couldn’t say it.

“I bought those,” Caryn whispered. “He didn’t buy them for me.”

“Ah,” I said plainly. “So you say.”

“We got bonus checks from the University. Mine wasn’t that big. I didn’t tell you. I spent it on clothes.”

“Is that what these are? Clothes? Looks more like cock bait to me.”

“Skip, please.”

“Well put ‘em on.”

“Skip, Sir, please. Please don’t make me do this.”

“Shut up and get your slutty whore ass dressed up. Now. You didn’t have any problem doing it for your boyfriend. Might as well do it for your husband, right?”

Caryn sniffed and her eyes went glossy. She gathered the clothes and the shoes off the floor slowly with a guilty, hang-dog expression.

“Why were you saving them?” I asked. “You planning on using them again with the next guy?”

Caryn sobbed out something I couldn’t hear.

“What? Speak up, Bitch!”

“I said that you’re right, they were expensive. I started to throw them away, but it was just too much money to toss in the dumpster.”

“Gonna get your money’s worth out of them tonight, Slut. I goddamn-guarantee-it.”

As Caryn walked into the bedroom to dress, I called, “Put on some makeup too, Slut. Get that eyeliner nice and thick, the way I like it.”

“Yes Sir,” Caryn sniffed.

A half hour later the bitch who walked out of my bedroom door and into the apartment kitchen was so fucking sexy it hurt me to look at her.  My eyes roamed all over her trying to find a fault. She was as perfect as a girl could be. She looked like the woman on the cover of a Greenleaf Classic jerk novel.

Except Caryn didn’t look wan and horny. Caryn didn’t look very happy at all. This pleased me.

“I bought this outfit when I was a brunette,” Caryn mumbled to the kitchen floor. She shifted her weight uneasily between the high heels. “It doesn’t look right on me with blond hair.”

Caryn was wrong about that. To wear white leather anything a girl has to be skinny, and Caryn was skinny. But as hot as a brunette can be in white leather and dark stockings, Blondes look even better.

“You wearing panties?” I asked.

Caryn looked at me bewildered and nodded.

“Lose ‘em,” I said. 

Caryn lifted her leather skirt up high, but the skirt was too tight to flip all the way to her stomach. She fished the snaps on her garters open and pulled her tiny thong off her bare pussy and dropped it down over her high heels. Just the flash of her bare pussy mound in the middle of all those sexy clothes sent testosterone surging through me. My blood felt jagged in my veins. My aggression started surging.

Caryn clipped her stockings back to the garter straps and danced her short skirt back down over her curvy hips and soothed out the wrinkles with her tiny, elegant hands. Her fingernails were long, perfectly shaped, and painted a dark plum red.

I walked her out the door, down the stairs, and to the car without a word. We didn’t speak in the car. Caryn’s eyes were all over the place, curious about our destination. I drove slow and cautiously, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wasn’t that far from my last shower, but I started feeling flop sweat trickling down from my armpits. Caryn had sprayed on some perfume that filled the interior of the car. I wondered what she’d smell like when all that floral fragrance started mixing with the soapy sex smell of her twat and the musk of Dutch’s ballsack mixing together as they crashed against each other.

I’d been to hotels and motels before, but I was 22. I’d never been to a really upscale hotel before. I’d driven by it a thousand times, but I didn’t even know that the hotel Dutch picked on the outskirts of town was an upscale businessman’s hotel.

Caryn and I walked through the lobby, her high heels echoing off the marble floor like rifle shots.  We crossed the lobby to the elevator, but the button did not light up when I pressed it.

“Excuse me.” A concierge standing behind us made us both jump. “Are you here to see a guest?”

“Yeah,” I said.

The concierge smiled and waited.

“Oh,” I said. “Uh, Dutch Huleman. Room 406?”

The concierge smiled. “Of course. Sir, all our rooms are secured to allow only guests past the lobby. If you’d step to the front desk, I’d be happy to call Mr. Huleman and clear you to go up.”

“Yeah, Sure.”

Three minutes later the concierge walked us back to the elevator and swiped a magnetic card through a security pad I’d not noticed the first time. We waited silently for the elevator to arrive while the concierge smirked and looked Caryn up and down. In that moment I realized that it looked like I was delivering a hooker or an escort to Dutch’s room.

Caryn and I stepped into the elevator and the doors swished shut in front of us.

I heard Caryn exhale in an extended, quivering breath. “Heeeewboy,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you are up to Skip, but I’ve got a feeling you’ve outdone yourself.”

The elevator doors opened. I put my hand in the small of Caryn’s exposed back and steered her out of the elevator and down the plush carpet. The hallway didn’t smell like a musty Motel 6 hallway. Even the wallpaper smelled fresh and upscale.

I knocked on Dutch’s door.

Dutch opened it. He’d dressed up a little. Sport jacket and slacks. 

“Hey brudder!” Dutch was his usual easy self. He reached out to shake my hand and then pulled me inside the room.  He left the door open and totally ignored Caryn standing by herself in the hallway as we exchanged pleasantries.

I looked back at Caryn. “Caryn, get your ass in here.”

Caryn teetered into the room on her heels. I pushed the door closed behind her while Dutch looked Caryn up and down in big, sweeping leers. Caryn looked as nervous as I’d ever seen her before. She was ten times more nervous than the time I pushed her naked into Troy’s room. Her tiny knees were wobbling involuntarily. 

“Caryn,” I said flatly, “This is Dutch. I’m temporarily transferring my ownership of you to Dutch. You’re going to do whatever Dutch says, however Dutch says it, with no hesitation. Dutch has complete ownership rights to your whore ass, including the right to punish you any way he gets a mind to.”

“You understand the deal here, Sweetheart?” Dutch smiled at Caryn.

“Y-y-yes sir,” Caryn mumbled.  Her eyes were busy sizing up Dutch, trying to anticipate whether she was going to be fucked or fucked up by the wide, older man in front of her.

Dutch smiled at me. “What about you, Brother? You sure you’re good with this?”

“I’m good,” I said.

“Well let’s shake on it and close the deal then.” Dutch extended his hand one more time. I reached out. Dutch’s big hand closed around mine. 

It was on.

“Help yourself to the room,” Dutch said to me. “Minibar is open.”

For the first time I had enough awareness to realize how huge the hotel suite was.  There was a living room area with a couch and love seat and a pair of big leather recliners. There was an office area. The kitchen area was twice the size of our apartment kitchen. The two big king size beds were at the far end of the room. The ceiling was as high as a new car showroom.

“You,” Dutch said to Caryn, “Roundheels. Get over here.”

Caryn teetered toward Dutch.

“No sense dragging out the drama, Roundheels,” Dutch said. He swallowed Caryn in his arms and pulled her into a hard, open mouth kiss. The HVAC vent shut off at that very moment. All I could hear was their loud, wet mouths rubbing against each other. After a beat, I saw Caryn kissing Dutch back as aggressively as she was being kissed.

I swear I felt a blood vessel in my forehead pop. The jealousy started to liquefy my internal organs.

Oh, I thought I’d seen Caryn kiss before when I smooched her with my eyes open, but you’ve never really seen your spouse’s kissing technique until you’re watching it in third person. Her eyes went thin. Her hands instinctively pushed around the sides of Dutch’s lats toward his back.

Dutch broke the kiss and Caryn teetered forward and back in a dizzy swoon. Dutch stepped back and looked Caryn over again. This time his big mitts followed his line of sight and he felt up Caryn’s covered jugs, then her bare midrift. One of Dutch’s hands locked on Caryn’s ass and the other hand scooped under her skirt and up into her bare pussy.

Dutch smiled. He turned to me. “Sorry to tell you this, pardner, but the slut is already sopping wet.”

“Par for the whores,” I nodded sadly. I turned a big lounge chair toward the two and plopped into it. My cock was twitchy but not rock hard. Just too nervous to be “on” full blast.

Dutch walked Caryn toward the black leather sofa across from me, picked her up at the waist, and set her back down with her knees digging the in the side of the couch armrest. She was facing Dutch who stood in the floor on the other side of it.

“You ever feed this girl?” he asked me.

“Yeah, but she burns off a lot of calories running between her boyfriends’ beds.”

“Hmmm,” Dutch clucked. “Is that so, Roundheels? You have some fidelity issues, Hon? Are you a slut?”

Caryn didn’t now what to say, so she said, “Yes, sir.”

“Aw,” Dutch smiled. “Aint that sweet? Trained little Roundheel slut knows enough to address the man that owns her with respect. That’s delightful. I’m guessing you’ve had some proper slut training, haven’t you?”

“Yessir.”

“And I’m also guessing that your slut training probably included some corporal punishment, too. Didntit?”

“I-I-I don’t know what that word means, Sir”

Facepalm. There’s a reason Caryn flunked out of School.

Dutch smirked. “Spankings? You getcha some spankings for being a bad girl?”

“Oh!” Caryn brightened. “Yes! Yessir!”

“Who slut trained you, Roundheels?”

Caryn looked at me. “M-m-my husband.”

“Really? How lovely. Just lovely.” Dutch’s squatted down so he was nose-to-nose with Caryn, only the arm of the sofa between them. “And what about your boyfriend, Roundheels? Did he train you too?”

“No sir.”

“No? Not even a little bit?”

“No sir.”

“Roundheels, I’m not your boss. That man sitting in the chair there is your boss. A good little slut knows that her husband is her boss and she calls him ‘Sir.’  But, you see. I’m not your boss. I’m your owner. I fucking bought you.  Did you know that? I paid your husband cold hard cash for your whore roundheeled slut ass for as long as I feel like keeping you.”

This was not true. Caryn’s eyes got wider and more nervous. Dutch was trying to get inside her head and he was doing an expert job.

“So,” Dutch continued. “I’m not your boss. I’m your owner. And what does a runaround whore roundheeled slut call her owner?”

Caryn’s mouth opened and closed several times.

“I asked you a question,” Dutch’s voice went stern and cold. 

Caryn literally shivered. “I don’t know, Sir,” Caryn squeaked.

“You don’t know.” Dutch shook his head. “What’s another name for a girl who is owned.”

Caryn struggled for Dutch’s answer.

Dutch’s hand was as fast as a tiger paw. It was a blur. I heard the slap hit Caryn’s face, and then I saw Caryn tumble head-first off the sofa and onto the carpet.  She didn’t cry out until her legs eventually caught up with her head and folded into her.

Dutch stood up, picked Caryn back up, and tossed her back on the couch in the same kneeling position she’d been before, this time with hair sticking to her cheeks.

Dutch resumed his squatting position on the other side of the sofa arm. “Let’s try this one more time,” Dutch said. “When a human being is bought and owned by another human being, the owned human being is caaaaaaaaalled... What?”

“A slave?” Caryn sniffled.

“Exactly! See, you’re a roundheeled slut whore, but you’re certainly not stupid. Now, if you’re a slave and I own you, them I’m yooooour? What?”

“Master?”

“That’s a good girl!” Dutch reached out to pinch Caryn’s chin. She thought she was getting slapped again and she flinched hard.

“Easy,” Dutch said. “I’m a demanding Master, but I’m fair. You were a bad slave and you got bad attention. Now you’re a good slave and you get good attention.” Dutch pulled Caryn’s chin forward and gave her a lippy kiss. Then another. Then they were both tonguing one another out in the open.

Dutch pulled back and playfully boinked Caryn on the tip of her tiny nose with his index finger. 

“I think you’re going to suck my dick now, Roundheels,” Dutch said. “What do you think?”

“Yes, sir. I mean Master.” Caryn said. Maybe I’ve never mentioned before that Caryn has a very sweet, very feminine sounding voice. All that sticky eye contact that she had with Dutch, combined with the darling little southern twang of her voice when she called Dutch ‘master,’ it was kind of fun to witness, even from my perspective of a jealous husband.

Dutch shook his head slowly. “Naw naw naw. Can’t let it go. No slip-ups allowed.”  Dutch raised his hand to the side of Caryn’s face. She flinched again while Dutch made her wait for her slaps. Dutch gave her three hard stage-slaps to the cheek in a row. Pow. Pow. Pow. If you’ve ever seen rough porno, you know the kind of slap I’m talking about. Loud. They get the girl’s attention, but the sting doesn’t stick to the skin for long.

“Are you going to suck my dick nice and hot, Roundheels?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Say it. All of it.”

“I’m going to suck your dick nice and hot, Master.”

“Beg for it.”

Caryn started getting caught up in the new role play. In her mind, I was disappearing and Dutch was looming bigger and bigger. 

“Please, Master,” Caryn said with a sweet, pleading lilt that I hadn’t heard in a long time, “Please, please let me wrap a hungry suck around your hot dick? Please, Master? I’ll suck you so good and hot, please?”

“That’s my girl,” Dutch smiled. He stood up, unzipped his slacks, and pulled out his erect cock between the zippers. Dutch’s cock was a little shorter than mine, not much. His cockhead was enormous. It was as big as a cat’s head. Fully erect, his dick looked like a goddamn mace.

Caryn shifted into some other gear. She licked her lips while she stared at the big cock head twitching in front of her face. “Oh Master,” she cooed, “your dick is sooo big and beautiful. May I please suck it? Pretty please?”

“Kiss my dick,” Dutch said. “Every inch.”

“Yes, Master!” Caryn said. Her painted lips stretched long and loose and started systematically smooching all over Dutch’s cock. Dutch’e dick tip oozed out a bubble of pre-come. Caryn’s kisses picked up the precome and started weaving a zig-zagged web between her lips and Dutch’s member.

Caryn didn’t even get to finish kissing the big dick head. “Lick my cock,” Dutch said. “Every inch.”

“Oh yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” Caryn moaned and stretched her tongue way out and shaped the tip into a little point and began dancing it all over Dutch’s dick. She put lots of extra licks on his dripping come hole, expertly stretching strings of glycerin. Then she danced her pink tongue all the way down to where Dutch’s member disappeared into his zipper, where she then extended her tongue as far as it would go into the gap where I couldn’t see. I think she licked the front of Dutch’s balls because his head snapped backwards when Caryn did that.

Caryn’s tongue went from long-and-pointy to flat-and-round. She leaned forward until she was absolutely sanding the nerves of Dutch’s cock with hard, wet, wide ice cream licks. She pulled her head up slowly until her tongue crested the top of Dutch’s big cock head and crossed his come hole. Then her tongue turned back into a pointy finger and zig-zagged down the side of his cock back to the base. Her tongue flattened out again and she licked up the sides, first one than the other. Caryn was taking the “every inch” part of Dutch’s command seriously. After painting the front and sides of Dutch’s cock with her saliva several times, Caryn lifted her head and smiled at Dutch. When she lowered her head, Dutch’s cock head caught under her chin and she pushed it downward as her tongue snaked back out and began lolling all over the back of the shaft and tracing the arc of skin right behind Dutch’s cock head.

“That’s a good job, Roundheels.” Dutch purred. “Now beg.”

I tried to remember the last time --if ever-- that I’d seen Caryn as deep into this kind of sex role play with me. She was laying it on pretty thick. I wasn’t sure I recognized the girl I was watching wiggle her ass on the couch in front of me. Thinking about Caryn sexing her creepy old boyfriend with the kind of fervor I was seeing her give Dutch made me hate her even more.

“Please, Master,” Caryn drawled. “Oh please can I have that giant fucking cock of yours in my whore mouth, Master? Oh please? I’ll suck you soooo good.” Caryn dragged her pointed tongue slowly across her top lip. The contrast of bright pink tongue glistening across her tiny, fire engine red lip got a fair amount of competition from the sexy show of her batting eyelashes. Caryn was doing the porn princess act more skillfully and more sincerely than many of the actual porn princesses I’d seen ply their skills on videotape.

“Suck my cock,” Dutch barked. “Every inch.”

“Mmmm. Yes Master!” Caryn launched forward and swallowed Dutch’s cock. Just getting her tiny mouth stretched around that big helmet head of Dutch’s dick was a sight to see. Then she was forcing her own throat deeper on Dutch’s cock until her lips brushed the opening in Dutch’s slacks. It was like she was trying to chokefuck herself before Dutch got the chance. Her sucks were noisy and she grunted and gag-gulped over and over on the deep sucks.

“Well aren’t you, somethin’?” Dutch laughed. He turned and looked at me. “She’s quite a cocksucker, Pardner. But I’m betting money that she’s just putting on airs to piss you off right now. That about right?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I could barely hear Dutch talk over Caryn’s noisy gag-sucks.

“You mind if I fuck this cheating bitch up the ass?”

I didn’t know how to answer. I’d never fucked Caryn up the ass before. Never really wanted to. I’d never fucked any girl up the ass. Like most newbies, I thought that you stroked your cock into a girl’s ass hole and pulled it back out covered in a thick layer of shit. I knew just about every minute of Caryn’s sexual life history and I didn’t think she’d ever been assfucked before.

I saw Caryn actually hesitate sucking for a moment. Her eyes opened. The “real” Caryn had heard what Dutch asked me.

“Hey,” I shrugged. “You own her. You do whatever you want to her.”

Dutch looked at me suspiciously. “You ever break her ass before?”

I shook my head. When Dutch and I were planning Caryn’s rape and he said “Break her ass,” I assumed he meant “Beat her ass.”

“Aw, then dude, I can’t be the first to break her ass. Why don’t you tag in and break it first.”

“Really? I gave her to you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dutch said, “And you’re my guest. C’mon. Tag in.”

“Uh, okay.” I stood up and began to unbuckle my belt and unzip my jeans.”

“I would ask one favor of you, though,” Dutch said. He was starting to thrust his hips in time with Caryn’s slurping suck. “I don’t want you lubing her up first. As long as we’re teaching little Roundheels here a lesson, it should be a memorable one.”

“Okay,” I shrugged. I pushed my boxers down and my cock sprang hard and full.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Dutch laughed. “Whoa goddammit there, pegleg! You neglected to tell me that you were part fucking Clydesdale! Jesus, Pardner!” Dutch laughed hard. He looked down at Caryn. “You’ve got John Fucking Holmes in your bed and you are still running around on him, Roundheels? Fuck, you are an insatiable little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yeth Massuh,” Caryn said with Dutch’s cock head still bulging her cheeks.

“Well,” Dutch said, “That monster isn’t going in her chute without a little something on it.” He pulled his cock out of Caryn’s jaw and ordered her off the couch and into the floor. Caryn followed orders instantly. 

“C’mere, Pardner,” Dutch waved me to him.

I stood shoulder to shoulder with him, Caryn kneeling in front of us.

“Roundheels,” Dutch said, “You’ve got two hands. God gave you two hands so you could pleasure two cocks at the same time. Do it.”

Caryn grabbed each of our dicks behind the head and started jerking them both in tandem.

“Roundheels,” Dutch continued, “You’ve only got one cocksucking mouth, but between us, we’ve got four hands to keep you honest. You better give each of us a better suck than the other. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” Caryn was looking straight at Dutch and trying not to make eye contact with me. Fucking bitch.

“You do the first honors, Pardner,” Dutch said.

I nodded. “Bitch,” I said. “Suck my cock.”

Caryn silently slipped her mouth over my cock and started sucking hard and fast.

“Naw naw naw,” Dutch shook his head. He reached for the back of Caryn’s hair and pulled her off my cock. “Roundheels, did your boss just tell you to suck his cock?”

“Y-yes, Master?”

“Why did you not acknowledge your boss and address him with the respect he deserves?”

“I-I- I’m sorry, Master.”

“No yer not,” Dutch said. Pap! Pap! Pap! Three hard slaps to Caryn’s cheek. He gave me a wink. 

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Four from me. Caryn’s eyes wobbled with the jaring force.

“Suck my fucking cock, you cheating slut,” I barked.

“Yessir,” Caryn whispered. She was back on my cock again. Dutch looked at me and gave me a small nod. I understood. If Caryn thought she was going to divide us, or dig into me with a super slut sex performance on Dutch, she was in for a surprise. Dutch and I were a team and she wasn’t getting over on anyone.

Dutch cleared his throat and Caryn instantly switched her mouth to his cock and started pumping mine with her hand.

I started really getting into the action. Caryn was a beautiful piece of ass and she still had all her clothes on. Dutch’s dick was kind of crazy, but it made for interesting voyeurism to see Caryn work her jaw around it as best she could while jacking my cock. Then she’d switch off and I’d get all the warm wet suck while I watched her left hand try and work through the logistics of jacking a cock with a head so big she couldn’t come close to closing her tiny fingers around it. She might as well have been trying to jack off an apple stuck on the end of a bicycle handle bar.

“You ready to break that ass, Pardner?” Dutch asked.

“Ready,” I answered. 

“Roundheels,” Dutch raised his voice, “You’ve got thirty seconds to make your boss’s schlong drip with as much spit as you can get to stick on it. It’s all the mercy your ass is going to get for a long stretch to come. Get busy.”

Caryn furiously started gushing saliva onto my cock head and shaft. She’d mouth-up a wave of suds and then press her lips to my cockhead and gush it right over the top. Once my cock was sloppy, I didn’t wait. I pulled away.

“Up on the couch, Roundheels,” Dutch said. “Get back in position.” Dutch stepped around the arm of the sofa like he’d been before. Caryn crawled up and draped her tiny hands over the padded arm and lifted her doggy-style ass high in the air.

Dutch resumed thrusting his bulbous cock in and out of Caryn’s noisy suck while I nestled the tip of my sizable cockhead in the little pink divot of Caryn’s anus. Caryn’s anus wasn’t as pale-perfect as Suzie Wagner’s, but ever since I’d enforced my rigorous grooming policy, it certainly wasn’t distracting. Caryn was always very hygienic, so her bung was as squeaky clean and soap scented as her pussy.

I didn’t think it would be so difficult to push my cock into an asshole. Where Caryn’s pussy was a hungry, wet vacuum for hard pricks, her pink bottom was a pursed dowager’s mouth, clenched and resistant to my probes. The spittle from Caryn’s suck started penetrating into Caryn’s anus a little at a time, loosing the vice. The tip of my cock face made a tiny inroad to stretching her ass.

“Hey Pardner,” Dutch said. “Gimme a heads up before you go for broke, okay? I don’t want Roundheels to bite my dick off.”

I snugged deep against the warmth of Caryn’s fighting asshole and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Dutch pulled his cock out of Caryn’s suck and grabbed her by the hair. He turned her face sideways toward the couch. I thought that was odd.

Then with one long, hard push, I fed my cockhead through the ring of Caryn’s butt with one hand while I held her hips steady with a handful of her bunched leather skirt in the other. It seemed to take forever for my cockhead to disappear into the ring of her pink ass.

Her ass was so much hotter than her pussy. It warmed my cockhead and I finally understood what all the fuss was about. At least until Caryn’s face went absolutely bug eyed and she started to cuss and yip.

THEN I really understood. I understood why Dutch turned Caryn’s face where I could see it. 

“Yow! OW! OW! Oh, slow please, Sir!” Caryn was pleading, and not as a slut. She was pleading as a real human being in distress. “Slower! Ow! Fuck! Owowowowowowow! Pllleaaa-- *Sob!*”

It was really something. The roleplay had been stripped away. The acting had been stripped away. Fourteen years of dominant male training had been washed off her face.

Caryn was real. For the first time, I saw the real Caryn. The pain must have been a different pain than spankings and slaps, because it didn’t wave over her and dissipate. The pain pinballed through her entire body like it was looking for an exit and couldn’t find one.

Her face scrunched into a crying jag and then she began hitching like I’d never seen her cry. She cried like baby Dani, red-faced and consumed by her frustration to escape the moment. Caryn’s plum fingernails dug into the soft arm of the sofa.

Dutch kept her face turned where I could see every thrust of my cock into her tight ass ripple through her expression in another wave of sobbing.

I know this sounds like a guy thing to say, but it was fucking beautiful. I’d never seen Caryn completely stripped of her defensive sex skills before. Since she was eight years old, she’d been playing one role or another for one male or another. The girl that was posed on her quivering elbows and knees and laid bare before me was raw, innocent, and devastatingly beautiful in her flowing tears.

I looked down to see that my cock was as clean on the backswing as it was on the thrust. This wasn’t so bad after all. I started forcing my fuckstroke a few inches deeper into Caryn’s ass. She started crying louder, a throaty “gugck-gugck-gaw-gaw-gaw” punctuated by the occasional articulation of an “Ow! Ow! Ow-wow!”

Dutch squatted in front of Caryn’s so they were face-to-face again. “Don’t say ‘Ow’ Roundheels.  Say ‘Ohhh!’”

“Ohhhh Master,” Caryn’s teeth were clenched. “It hurts so fucking bad,” Caryn said between sobs.

“You saw the size of my dick head, didn’t you Roundheels? How do you think that’s going to feel when it rips out your little pink split-tailed ass?”

“Oh, Master! Please no!” Caryn was slutting out the words that were prescribed for her, but she was just so fucking real and sincere as she said it. It was so fucking sexy it was blowing my mind.

Dutch stood and started humping into her mouth. At first we were jostling Caryn in two different directions, out of sync. Then we settled on an alternate rhythm where I was thrusting her mouth forward onto Dutch’s cock and he was thrusting her ass back onto my shaft.

I didn’t give Caryn too much cock. I didn’t want to bury my shaft all the way up into her colon and tempt fate of getting messy. It felt really nice though. Not so nice that I absolutely had to come, but I could have squirted if I wanted too. I didn’t.

Dutch shifted his hip rhythm and then we were both thrusting into Caryn at the same time. Her tiny frame rippled inward from two directions toward the line above her hips.  First Caryn’s cries turned to grunts. Then they shifted into something more animal. She started grunting deeper and deeper.

“Roundheels is going come,” Dutch said to me. “Should we let her?”

“Naw,” I said. I popped out of her ass and watched the pink vortex of her anus slowly stretch back to a small glistening red gap.

Dutch pulled out of Caryn’s mouth and let her collapse over the arm of the chair. “Well, I’m ready for my first of the night. Roundheels’s suck has got my nuts boiling.”  Dutch walked over to a paper bag on the kitchenette counter and walked back with some short lengths of rope and a ball gag that had a silver ring where the ball would go.

Dutch’s fingers laced into Caryn’s top buttons and stripped her to her bra quickly. Two finger pinched at her back and her brastrap sprang open and dropped away. Her big 38 C’s were on full display for Dutch. Dutch didn’t seem impressed. He didn’t even pinch a nipple. Dutch unzipped her skirt and pulled it off, but he left the stockings and the heels.

“I’m going to have to strap her down for this one,” Dutch said. He was pretty good with his rope skills. It didn’t take him long to tie each of Caryn’s wrists behind her back to the opposing elbow. It made a little box shape out of her arms and kept her hands from resting over her ass where they normally did when I tied her hands behind her back. It was a nice bondage look for her. Efficient. Dutch pushed Caryn so that her stomach pushed into the padded arm of the couch and she had to push her knees into the couch to keep from tumbling forward and face-planting on the carpet. Caryn’s big round tits seemed to levitate. Her expression was all concern.

Dutch tossed me the gag. “Strap that over her head, willya Pardner?”

Dutch began taking the rest of his clothes off while I started wrapping the straps around Caryn’s head. I’d never even seen a gag that had two separate straps and buckles for the back of the head. Upscale toys from a guy obviously banking a lot more money that I was. It took me a minute to figure out how the double buckle worked.

“Put the ring up behind her teeth,” Dutch called to me.

Before I cinched the straps, I worked the big silver ring into Caryn’s mouth and clunked it behind her teeth. I was sure that the ring was just too big for Caryn’s tiny pie hole, but once I started making the final adjustments to the buckles, Caryn’s mouth widened and her jaw lowered even more and the ring gag slipped into its perfect fitting behind her teeth.

“That ring is supposed to keep a bitch’s mouth still so you can slide your cock into it and fuck their bitch throat,” Dutch said. “But obviously my dickhead is too big to fit through the damn thing. Yours too.” Dutch climbed onto the couch behind Caryn. He lifted her ass and pushed her knees apart with his big hands. “But hey, it shuts ‘em up and they get a nice drool going. Makes for a very sexy bitch.”

I took my place back in the big chair and watched. Obviously Dutch didn’t need my help for what he was about to do.

“Take Master’s cock in your whoring slut ass, Roundheels,” Dutch said. He buried his dick in Caryn’s ass in one swift stroke.

Caryn screamed an odd sounding scream. The gag wasn’t exactly muffling her volume, but it was affecting how she sounded things out. Her eyes bugged in disbelief and stayed that way while Dutch’s big cock head ripped her ass. 

Literally, ripped her ass. I saw fresh blood streak his cock on one of his back strokes.

There were no hitching sobs in Caryns mournful cry. It was one long chesty siren of “Hhhnnnnnnuuuuuuuuuung!”

“Somethin’ to think about before you run around on your husband, Roundheels,” Dutch laughed. “You may just find your runaround ass raped by a sadistic sumbitch with a dick built for fixing split-tailed bed-hopping whores.”

“Hhhnnnnnnuuuuuuuuuung! Hnug. Nnnuhng! Hhhhnnnnnnnnnuuuuung!”

Yes, I was a little worried that Caryn was bleeding from her ass, but it was certainly therapeutic to see her stripped of all her slutty tricks and knowing she was internalizing and externalizing every bit of punishment pain from my designated rapist.

“Oh yeah,” Dutch said. His stroke picked up steam. He was assfucking Caryn a lot deeper than I had. “Oh yeah. Oooooh!”  Dutch exhaled and stopped thrusting.  “Whooo!” He hooted  He gave Caryn’s right ass cheek three loud swats and pulled his bloody dick out of her backside. He had come. A long sticky stream stretched between his bloody cock and Caryn’s asshole before it snapped and tumbled all over the floor.

“She’ll remember that,” Dutch said. “I promise you, she’ll think about Master Dutch before running around again.”  Dutch strutted to the bathroom and left the door open. I heard him pee.

Caryn looked at me, bewildered. Saliva was starting to string out of her open jaw and onto the couch. I gave her nothing back but ice.

The water in the sink ran for a while. It shut off and Dutch strutted back out with a clean, wet dick and some washcloths. He tossed the washcloths over on the nightstand beside one of the beds.  He strutted over to Caryn’s collapsed body on the sofa, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Goddamn, I’ve got leather jackets that weigh more than this bitch,” he smiled at me. He walked Caryn over to the closest King size bed. Then he shifted her into his arms and tossed her, actually tossed her into the air so she would bounce tits-first into the mattress.

“Oooof!”

Naked Dutch danced back to the kitchen counter and pulled out a bunch more lengths of rope out of his magic paper bag. His soft pecker pendulated back and forth against his thighs, spattering little drops of after-come. He started whistling “I fall to pieces,” as he bounced his way back to Caryn.

Man, that sumbitch was good with ropes.  He gathered Caryn’s hair behind her head in a ponytail wad and wrapped loops of rope around it until it formed a solid clamp on the back of Cary’s head. (I’ve tried it. It’s hard to get rope to clamp onto the hair and not slip off.) Dutch stood on the bed. That was when I noticed the thick eye bolt that he’d drilled and screwed into the ceiling. I’d later learn that in Dutch’s bondage kit he kept a stud-finder to find the rafters in a drywalled ceiling and a small tub of white spackle to fill the hole in the ceiling before he left.

Dutch threaded one end of the rope attached to Caryn’s pony tail through the eye bolt and back down toward her feet in an inverted “V” shape.

Dutch had some smaller rope, not much thicker than yarn. He finally stripped Caryn of her stockings and shoes and tied each of Caryn’s big toes (if you’ll pardon the oxymoron) together with a two foot length. Dutch looped the ceiling rope around the center of the toe-rope and pulled out the slack until Caryn was pretzeled into a stomach-down backwards bend, her hair pulling against her toes and her tits barely lifted off the paisley hotel bedspread. Or maybe it was her toes pulling against her hair. Dutch never stopped whistling. Caryn’s arms were still pinned square against her back. After Dutch tied off the final knot he jumped off the bed and admired his work. 

Caryn was making uncomfortable little “Gnuh” grunts every few seconds. To this day I’m not sure of the physics of why that particular stress position hurts a girl. Does it feel like her hair is being pulled out? Does it hurt the toes? Is it hard to breathe with her lungs stretched backwards? Does it hurt the spine? Lower back stress? Honestly. I don’t give a shit. It was damn effective.

Dutch rolled out a dry towel under Caryn’s head. The saliva was flowing rather copiously and I suppose he didn’t want to soak the bed. Dutch rolled a wet washcloth into a tight roll and forced it down through Caryn’s butt cheeks to start the healing of her ripped ass.

“It’s hot,” Dutch said to me. “Remember that if you rip her ass. Ideally you want her to straddle a hot towel while she sits in a hot bathtub for a while to get the warm steam heat up her ass. Promotes healing. This will have to do.” Dutch smiled at me. My cock was still at full throttle. “Hey, Pardner, pull the pressure release pin on that thing and get dressed.”

Dutch crossed to where he’d left his clothes and started pulling them back on.

“Where we going?” I asked as I gathered my jeans and stepped into them.

“I could use a drink. This hotel has an excellent bar and I suspect we’ll have it all to ourselves.”

“Ah,” I said.

Before we closed the door of the room I took one more look at my wife, bent backwards into a stress position and struggling to wriggle out a smidge of comfort. She could not fight it. Her perfect, size-five feet arched into an elegant ballerina point in the air behind her head.  Her big round tits floated for a second, just off the bedspread. then they’d lightly kiss the duvet for a moment before some kind of pain in Caryn became too much and she forced herself into the back arch that made her tits defy gravity once more. She had about two inches of play that she could use to trade a pain in one part of her for a moment of pain in another part of her.

Magnificent. Dutch was a fucking master alright. A Bitchmaster.

I let the door thump closed. Dutch patted me on the back and we walked toward the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We spent a couple hours in the bar, drinking for a buzz but not getting sloppy drunk. We had work to do.

Dutch did everything right that night he raped my wife, but tying Caryn into a stress position while we went and rebonded in the hotel bar was pure genius.

All the jangling nerves and jealousy that had been burning through me washed out as we relaxed in a padded booth. Things between me and Dutch weren’t as weird as I expected. It was all good. The awkwardness of it all, the voyeurism of watching another man kiss my wife, the being naked around another naked dude, the butt sex... The weirdness kind of melted away with the ice cubes in our Scotches.

I thought about Suzie Wagner and her pragmatic, non-jealous approach to relationships. I thought momentarily about the nerve it took for Suzie to push us into a three-way with her best friend.  I started to “get it.”  

And, as I “got it,” a big chunk of my irrational jealousy over Caryn’s infidelity left me.

But Dutch had only been warming up. It was time for Act Two. Dutch settled our tab and we headed back up to the room. 

Dutch put his big mitt on my shoulder. “This is the hard part, Pardner. We had the Socratic Method ‘wake up call’ in Act One. Now we have the therapy part in Act Two, and you need to sit and watch this part from the cheap seats. Then I’ll transition her back to you in Act Three. Hang in there.”

We entered Room 406 once more. Caryn was grunting a rapidfire “Ghung-ghung-ghung!”  She was obviously in a lot of pain and discomfort. A long band of shiny drool crested her bottom lip, spilled into a delta fan on her chest, and crested both her nipples in two solid, stringy waterfalls onto the towel under her. Her eyes got big as we approached and strained to see if we had returned with more toys or a shore leave platoon of sailors.

I dragged my voyeur chair next to the bed while Dutch took off his clothes again. He was a hairy guy, but not a sasquatch. He had the “batman logo” pattern of chest hair. He was wide in the shoulders and thick in the hips. His legs weren’t bulging with muscles, but he looked as if he could squat-press a Brahma bull if he had a mind to.

Dutch flopped naked onto the bed next to my trussed wife, on the opposite side of the bed so he wasn’t blocking my view of Caryn. His dick was ready to go again. With his index finger he played with the strings of Caryn’s saliva, connecting them, twirling them into webs and ladders.

“So here’s where we are, Roundheels,” Dutch said softly in Caryn’s ear.  “I’ve got all fucking night and all of tomorrow to do whatever I want with you. Hell, I don’t have a sales call until Tuesday afternoon and I could reschedule that one easily. Now I could leave you right here for a while longer. Would you like that? You want to be left alone for a few more hours?”

To the extent that Caryn could shake her head “no,” she gave it all she had. 

“Nuhn! Nuh!” Caryn grunted.

“You don’t want to be left alone?” Dutch egged her on.

“Nuhn! Eeeeezh. Nuhn!”

“Oh. Well you know if I untie you, it just means I’m going to fuck that runaround pussy of yours, right? Put some more cheating miles on that twat. You know that, right Roundheels?”

“Eth! Eth!”

“And you’re going to have to suck my cock more?”

“Heth! Eeeezzzh! Heth!” Fat, slow tears started cresting Caryn’s cheeks.

“Yeah,” Dutch said, feigning apology. “But there’s more, yasee. You and I are going to act out your little affair for your boss over there, Sugartits. Every little thing.”

Caryn’s eyes were pure disbelief. She looked baffled.

Dutch swept the hair off Caryn’s forehead so I didn’t miss any of her expression. I saw it. 

“Of course,” Dutch said, “If you’d rather think about it for a while, your husband and I could go see a movie and leave you here to--”

“Nuhng! Nuh! Nuuuuuggggh!” Caryn shook her head no as vigorously as her tied pony tail would allow her.

“Okay then,” Dutch said. “I’ll untie you. But just so you know, if I even think you are lying to me or holding out on me, I’ll put you right back where you are. Even a little lie. I’ll send your husband home and we’ll try untying you again tomorrow morning. Are we clear, Roundheels?”

“Yuh. Yuth Athah!”

Dutch untied Caryn completely and removed her ring gag. He allowed her to recover on her back while he felt her tits up for the first time.

“Kiss me, slut,” Dutch said.

“Yes, Master.” Caryn kissed him while he rubbed her ass. Without being prompted, her little hand groped out, found Dutch’s erect dick and began pumping it under the head.

“What was your boyfriend’s name, Roundheels?” Dutch asked between wet kisses.

Caryn didn’t want to say it. She knew I didn’t want to hear it. She hesitated.

“Roundheels?” Dutch’s voice dropped three octaves.

“James,” she whispered.

“Speak up!”

“My boyfriend’s name was James, Master.”

“Did you call him James? Or was it Jim? Or Jimmy?”

“James, Master.”

They kissed more and Dutch let go of Caryn’s ass and pushed his wiggling fingers into her pussy. It was wet.

Dutch continued. “And what did you call him when he was pounding away in that pussy? You didn’t say ‘Fuck me, James!’ did you?”

“No Master. I said ‘Fuck me, Jimmy.’ ”

“And what did `Fuck me Jimmy’ call you? What was his name for you?”

“Master, James called me ‘Angel.’ Almost always.”

“Almost always,” Dutch repeated. “And what name did he use when his cock was hard? How did he tell you to suck his dick?”

Caryn hesitated for a beat. “Master, when Jimmy’s cock was hard and he wanted me to suck it or fuck it, he’d call me ‘Little Girl.’ “

“Huh. Well suck my cock, Little Girl,” Dutch said.

“Yes, Master.”

“No, Little Girl. For the time being, my name is Jimmy.”

“Yes... Jimmy?”

“Suck my cock, Little Girl.”

“Yes Jimmy.”

Caryn got down between Dutch’s legs, picked up his cock, and started slurping away at it with gusto.

“Is that how you sucked Jimmy’s cock, Little Girl?”

“Yes, Jimmy,” Caryn said with a mouthful of wet cock.

“You sucked your boyfriend like a total slut whore?”

“Yes, Jimmy. I can’t help it. I like to suck cock.”

“Did your boyfriend Jimmy call his penis a cock? Or a dick? Or what?”

“A cock,” Caryn slurped. “Jimmy called it a cock.”

“And how big was Jimmy’s cock. Was it a big one?”

“No, no Jimmy. It wasn’t very big at all.”

“As big as your boss’s cock?”

“Oh, no. Jimmy’s cock wasn’t half as big as my husband’s cock.”

“As big as my cock?”

Caryn pulled her suck off Dutch’s cockhead with a pop. She pointed to a spot five inches from the base. “This big,” she whispered.

“Thick?” asked Dutch.

“A little.” Caryn went back to sucking Dutch’s cock.

“When you were first alone with your boyfriend, what did you do? Did you kiss?”

“Yes, Jimmy. We kissed a lot before anything else started.”

“Was your boyfriend a good kisser?”

Caryn hesitated again.

“Roundheels! I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Yes, my boyfriend Jimmy was an excellent kisser.”

“Better than me?”

“Mmmn. You are a good kisser too, Master Jimmy.”

“I asked you a question. Which one of us is a better kisser?”

The fact that Dutch was speaking in present tense was not lost on me. The immediacy of it all started ripping at my heart again. I felt the toxic burn of jealousy start back through my bloodstream once more.

“He’s a better kisser,” Caryn huffed. “I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me.”

“As long as you tell the truth,” Dutch said.

“I won’t lie, Master Jimmy,” Caryn said sadly.

“Is he a better kisser than your boss.”

“Yes, Jimmy.”

Pow! No hesitation at all. She didn’t even think about it. God, that ripped a hari-kari knife through my guts. I started to smolder with anger again.

“Rank your three kissers,” Dutch said. “From worst to best.”

If I had a pause button that I could have pressed to stop the whole evening, I would have slapped it like a bad girl’s ass right then and there. I did not want to hear the answer to Dutch’s cruel question.

“My husband. You. My boyfriend.”

Again with the present tense. Not “ex boyfriend,” but “my boyfriend.” Fuck me runnin’. The jealousy was killing me. Almost as bad as being told I placed dead last in a kissing contest with both her creepy old lover and her designated rapist.

Dutch didn’t wait. “What happened after the kissing? Did your boyfriend make you suck his dick?”

“No, Master Jimmy. The other Jimmy, my boyfriend Jimmy, he always wanted to suck my nipples for a long time. Suck and bite. My boyfriend loved my titties.”

“Oh I’m sure he still loves these tits.”

“Yes, Jimmy. My boyfriend loves my tits.”

Again with the present tense. Jesus.

Dutch lowered down and began working Caryn’s hard nipples over with his mouth. He clamped the bright pink buds in his teeth and stretched them so I could see it.  Caryn rolled back and forth on her back and began to stroke her fingers through Dutch’s hair while he worked her nubile jugs over.

“Then what?” Dutch mumbled with a mouth full of tit.

“He sucked a lot longer than that,” Caryn moaned.

“Then what?” Dutch repeated sternly.

“Then my boyfriend Jimmy slid down and licked all over my pussy.”

Dutch took his cue. He pushed Caryn’s legs wide apart with a firm grip behind each knee.  I saw every lap and twirl of his tongue over Caryn’s clit as she arched and gasped. Dutch went to town. He started getting into it and grunting with hungry pleasure.

As a veteran of licking Caryn’s pussy when she’s horny, I knew that it was hard to keep up with all the pussy sugar that poured out of her, even before she squirted. It’s unreal how much flow could gush from that fuckhole, even before she ejaculated.

“That feel good, Little Girl?”

“That feels great, Jimmy. Can you please put some fingers in my hole?”

Dutch slid two big fingers up into Caryn’s fuck hole. I could tell from his wrist that he was walking them against her top G-spot in a come-hither motion. “You like having your pussy licked, Little Girl.”

Caryn was breathing deep. “Oh I love it, Jimmy. You lick a good pussy, Jimmy.”

“Whose the best--”

Caryn didn’t even wait for Dutch to finish asking the question. “My boyfriend Jimmy is the best pussylicker,” she moaned. “Ever. Of all boys I’ve ever had.”

“That good?” Dutch mumbled from the slight pink folds of Caryn’s bare muff.

“Incredible!”  Caryn was having a hard time keeping her breath. She was on her way to an orgasm for sure.

“What makes your other boyfriend Jimmy such a good pussylicker?”

“I don’t know, Master Jimmy. I can’t describe it. He does something with the flat of his tongue. He kind of grinds it on my clitty. It feels amazing.”

“You come on your boyfriend’s tongue?”

“Yes, Master Jimmy.”

“How many times?”

“Every time, Master Jimmy.”

“How many times is every time, Little Girl?”

Caryn gasped and moaned. I knew that moan. She was going to blow happy juice right up into Dutch’s nose any second.  

“M-m-maybe seven... OH! Yes. Maybe seven times, Master Jimmy?”

“You had seven sex sessions with your boyfriend?”

“Eight,” Caryn panted. “I sucked him off once in a car.”

“Seven times in his bed?”

“Yes, Jimmy.”

“You ever sex your boyfriend in your boss’s bed?”

“Absolutely not, Jimmy. Never.” Caryn was panting hard. She should have come already.

“And he licked this pussy seven times?”

“Ohhhhh Gawd.  Mmmmm! Yessss, Jimmy.”

“And you came on your boyfriend’s tongue every time?”

“Yes, Jimmy.”

“Well show me. Come for me, Little Girl.”

Caryn’s ankles started shaking.

“Y-y-you want me to show you? Exactly how I came, Jimmy?” Caryn panted.

“Did I stutter, Little Girl?”

Caryn unexpectedly leaned up on her elbows and pulled her waist out from under Dutch’s lapping tongue.  In a matter of moments she pushed him flat on the bed and straddled Dutch’s face as she leaned up and started sucking Dutch’s dick.

“This was how you did it?” Dutch asked as a he leaned his chin upwards to get a tongue on Caryn’s dancing pink pussy above his mouth.  “Your boyfriend put you in 69?”

Caryn slurped out words between sucks. “No Jimmy. I just did it. I could never wait to get his hard dick in my mouth. I was so horny I wanted to suck cock. I wanted to come with a hard cock in my jaw.”

Caryn shut up and started deepthroating Dutch hard and fast. Dutch shut up and grabbed both of Caryn’s ass cheeks and pulled her pussy down on his waggling tongue.

Caryn’s heels started quaking again. Then her knees. Then her elbows. Her grunts turned into a solid moan and her suck went on pause while she trashed. I saw the spray of her hard orgasm dump all over Dutch’s chin and neck. She howled a long “Gnnnnnnuuuuuh!” exhale around Dutch’s big cockhead. 

Wow. It was a great orgasm to watch in third person.

Dutch bench-pressed Caryn up and off him by her hips. He looked over at me. He blinked slowly.

“You could have warned me that she was a squirter, man. I just about drowned here.”

“Now you know,” I shrugged.

“I’m sorry, Master Jimmy,” Caryn panted.

“You’re fine, Little Girl. You’re fine,” Dutch reassured her. “What next?”

“Fucking,” Caryn panted. “Missionary, then me on top.”

“Every time? You did it with your boyfriend that way every time?”

“Twice he bitch fucked me instead of me being on top.”

“Did you come when he doggy fucked you?”

“No, Jimmy.”

“Never?”

“Never ever, Master Jimmy.”

“Don’t lie to me, Little Girl.”

“No fucking way I’d lie to you, Master Jimmy. No more rope. Please. I won’t lie. My boyfriend Jimmy’s cock wasn’t long enough to hit my slut spot for doggy fucking.”

Dutch was twitching a raging hardon, but he waited for Caryn to catch her breath. They started kissing and rubbing tongues again for a long while.  My erection was killing me by that point.  I wanted Dutch to hurry the fuck up and get to “Act Three,” whatever that was.

Dutch rolled up between Caryn’s legs and positioned his giant cock head right at the entrance to her fuck hole.

“Say it, Little Girl,” Dutch growled. “Say it just like you said it for him.”

“Oh fuck me, Jimmy. Please fuck me.”

And Dutch did. Caryn’s head rocked back and her tits seemed to be trying to levitate her up off the bed like weather ballons. Caryn was responsive and grinding her hips to every stroke. 

“Move that ass, Little Girl,” Dutch hissed.

“Oh yes, Jimmy. Fuck me, Jimmy!”

Caryn popped again, unusually quick for her second orgasm and not very messy. She’d already spent most of her squirting orgasm juice in Dutch’s mouth.

Dutch was definitely enjoying himself. He didn’t stop pounding Caryn’s twat when she made her wobbling orgasm cry. She shifted into the “uhn-uhn-uns” as she endured Dutch’s steady fuck domination.

Dutch pulled out and flopped on his back. He patted his thighs.

“C’mon, Little Girl,” Dutch said. “Climb up on Jimmy’s cock and show your boss how you fucked the come out your boyfriend.”

Caryn and I never fucked with her on top. We had experimented with 69ing a few times and abandoned it for taking turns being selfish. (Or rather, ME being selfish.) But she had never fucked me cowgirl before. 

She had definitely fucked somebody cowgirl though. She looked like a porn princess as she straddled Dutch’s wide hip. Her rear leg was folded back on itself and her forward leg (toward me) arced up and ended in a perfect ballet curled toe point into the mattress. She worked Dutch’s cockhead into her hovering pussy like a pro, spreading his pre-come all over her giant clit before pushing Dutch’s shaft back toward her fuck hole and dropping her upturned knee. Her little hands both looked like baby hands as they pushed down on Dutch’s wide chest, steadying the drop of her pussy onto Dutch’s hard pole. 

Caryn bottomed out. Her eyes went thin and her chin dipped against her chest, sending the cascading curtains of her long golden hair closing over her face. 

She grumbled and grunted. Her hips swiveled in a grinding circle and Dutch’s big cockhead botttomed out somewhere deep in Caryn’s pussy. Caryn swayed up and down, still masked by all that hair in her face.

Then she did a little dip from her tits and hips and her face splashed up through all that hair as her nose and chin pointed at the ceiling and she began riding Dutch like a trotting horse. 

Oh, that hair. She whipped it left. She whipped it to the right. Platinum strands would splash across her mouth and catch for a moment on Caryn biting her wet bottom lip. Then it was all in motion again: a gleaming, flashing hypnotist’s watch. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that hair isn’t one of the sex organs. On a pretty girl, it most certainly is.

Caryn didn’t ride Dutch for very long before he shut up his bed talk and started gasping his own pre-orgasmic breaths. His head lolled and Dutch grunted hard. His hands closed on Caryn’s hips and he pulled her down hard into his upthrust over and over, their pelvises absolutely demolishing one another. Then Dutch gave an exorcism growl of “Fuuuuuuuuuck!”

Somewhere in the deep plumbing of my wife, Dutch’s sperm gushed hard and hot while Dutch spewed a verbal accounting of every profanity he knew.

Sweaty Caryn rolled off Sweaty Dutch and they panted next to one another.

I suppose there could have been more to “Act Two.” I suppose Dutch could have pumped Caryn for more details. Bitch fucked her. Pried more humiliating “who was the best ________?” questions out of her.

But I got what I needed. Dutch was right. Seeing Caryn act out what little I saw was enough insight into her time in the creepy old fuck’s bedroom that there was no doubt what had gone down. It wasn’t Memorex, but it was close enough to scratch all he itchy question marks that were infecting my brain.

Mission accomplished.

“Hey Pardner,” Dutch panted. “For the love of fuck. Tag in and fuck this roundheeled runaround bitch, willya?”

And that’s exactly what I did. I had my clothes off in seconds. Dutch rolled off and made himself a drink from the minibar while I put Caryn on all fours and bitchfucked her with the hardest erection I can ever remember having. I could smell Dutch’s sweat on Caryn and it just made me want to pound her even harder to wash it away with my sweat.

The first thing I saw when I looked down was the swollen red welt that had formerly been the divot of Caryn’s pink anus. Dutch and I had done a number on her ass.

Below Caryn’s puckered bum, my cock sloshed through the wettest fuck I’d ever pounded out of Caryn. Her pussy was flowing, but I could also see swirls of Dutch’s come mixing with the pussy juice. A mere 24 hours before, if you’d told me that I’d have another guy’s come on my cock, I’d have been grossed out. But in the moment, 40,000 years of evolutionary programming kicked in and I just fucked Caryn THAT much harder to get my come to overwhelm Caryn’s tubes instead of Dutch’s. 

Weird, but true.

Caryn’s tits swung wildly underneath her jostled frame. Caryn yipped under the impact of my pelvis crashing against her ass.

She started her pre-orgasmic grunts.

My entire skin - scalp to shins - started to bubble and fry with the electric suppression of my aching balls.

“OH, Sir! I’m cum-cum-cominggggggg!”  Caryn squirted warm pussy jets all over my balls. It was so very unusual for her to pour that much after the first time. Much less the third time. 

That was it for me. The muscles in my glutes twanged like banjo strings breaking and the surge of contractions closed in on the base of my cock shaft and I pumped my hot come into Caryn over and over and over. I didn’t realize I had stopped breathing until my come squirts kept jetting into Caryn’s cunt for so long I got dizzy.

Caryn collapsed face down in the bed. I pulled out of her sperm-slopped cunt and stumbled backwards into my voyeur chair beside the bed.

A fresh bottle of beer hissed to life behind my head and Dutch lifted a brown bottle over my shoulder and into my hand. He cracked the cap on another and walked it to the collapsed heap of ass and hair that was my wife.

“Oh, bless you, Master,” Caryn croaked. Her little fingers closed around the neck and she leaned up on an elbow long enough to take a long glugging swig. “My mouth was sandpaper.”

“Didn’t feel like sandpaper to me, Sugar,” Dutch smiled and patted Caryn’s naked, upturned ass.

Dutch grabbed his glass of Scotch and ice and sat on the edge of the bed next to Caryn’s legs and sipped with one hand while he rubbed her ass and thighs with his other hand. Dutch’s dick still hung limp, but I knew from the sly smile on his face that he wasn’t done with Caryn.

“She’s really beautiful, Pardner,” Dutch said to me. 

“That she is.”

“Fuck. I mean look at her feet. Even her feet are perfect. Nobody has perfect feet.”

I nodded. “Venus feet.”

“I was always partial to the tiny girls with big knockers,” Dutch said, squeezing Caryn’s ass cheeks.

“Me too,” I said. “Not sure why, but I like ‘em tiny.”

“Small girls stay younger looking longer,” Dutch said.

I nodded. “Maybe that’s it.”

“And this pussy. Christ! Do you put a battery in that thing? It’s so pink it almost hurts my eyes. I got a feeling that this sweet thing will still be hotter than a two-peckered billygoat when she’s 50.”

The corner of Caryn’s mouth hitched into a little smile. She was eating up all the compliments.

Old Man Me sighs and my heart breaks. Dutch was probably right, but Caryn died before I got to put that to the test.

Caryn finished her beer and Dutch took the bottle away from her before she could stretch out and place it on the nightstand.

“Good, the bottle is still cold,” Dutch said. He pressed the neck of the cold beer bottle into the crack of Caryn’s ass and pressed it against her battered asshole.

“Guh!” Caryn arched backwards.

“That hurt, Sugar?” Dutch asked.

“No. Feels good,” Caryn said. “Just cold.”

“You guys ready for a shower?” Dutch finished his drink with a long slurp.

“Yes, Master,” said Caryn.

“You guys go ahead,” I waved.

“Sure, Pardner? Room for all of us in the shower. It’s a stadium in there.”

“Naw, you two go first. I’ll be in after I finish my beer.”

“Okey-dokey,” Dutch said. “C’mon, Sugartits.” Dutch patted Caryn’s ass again and she rolled off the bed as Dutch stood. Dutch wrapped his arm around her shoulder. That was the first time I saw the perspective of tiny Caryn standing next to wide Dutch. It made her look even more petite. Dutch put his arm around Caryn’s shoulder and Caryn put her little hand on Dutch’s ass cheek and they walked off into the bathroom like a couple that had been together for years.

The shower hissed.

I had a second beer. I opened a third.  I started recovering from my strenuous fucking and the sweat on my back evaporated. A shower didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

There was no sound coming from the open bathroom door except for the sizzle of of the shower water, so I knew Dutch and Caryn were up to something.

As Dutch described, the shower stall was big enough for five. It had two rain-type shower heads dropping from the ceiling and five steamy side sprays. A white fog of steam hovered over the marble floor. I could see enough through the steamy glass door to know Dutch was winding up for another go. Caryn was busy working a lather of soap all over Dutch’s dick. Her tits had been well soaped under Dutch’s hands as well.

Dutch put his hand on Caryn’s shoulder and pushed her down to her knees. Caryn discarded the soap in her hand and used both of her little grips to wipe and rinse the suds away from Dutch’s member. Her mouth took Dutch’s cock head once more.

Neither noticed me standing on the other side of the fogged glass. This wasn’t a performance, this was real sexual communication between the two and I was experiencing rare, honest voyeurism. 

Caryn was beautiful. The shape of her wet hair followed her skull, neck, and shoulders as if it had been combed into perfection by a movie production assistant. She was trying to look up at Dutch’s eyes the best she could, but the side spray jets from the shower made it difficult for Caryn to keep from squinting. She was trying really hard.

Dutch was around three-quarters hard. Caryn had a mouthful to work. Dutch kept a wide stance and loomed tall with his shoulders back and his hands confidently on his hips like a Roman soldier being serviced by a slave girl.

It wasn’t weird to see naked dudes in a porno (except maybe Ron Jeremy). The weirdness of being in the same room as another naked dude wasn’t as goofy as I expected it to be. Dutch and Caryn looked good sexing each other. I appreciated the symmetry of their respective genders; Dutch all sharp angles and Caryn all curves and globes.

I knew my wife was beautiful, but hey, she was my wife yaknow. It was easy to take her feminine features for granted when I saw them every day. 

Watching my wife suck Dutch’s cock in the spray of that shower from my fly-on-the-wall, invisible perspective... God damn. It was hot. The jealousy was gone. I stopped being bugged and started being entertained. A good show put on by two good looking people going at it is a good show, even if one of the players is your spouse.

Dutch eventurally looked over and noticed me watching them. He slid the door open. “C’mon in, Pardner,” he smiled. “The water and the cocksucking are fine!”

“Naw. I’m digging the show.”

“Well I’m starting to prune and so is Sugartits,” Dutch said. “If you don’t want in, I’m going to dry her off and move the show back to the bed.”

“Do it,” I said.

Caryn carefully stood while Dutch powered off all the water knobs. I handed Caryn a big white towel. She wiped her face dry and leaned up and kissed me. Hard. Hard and hot. She batted her eyelashes at me and started drying off again.

Nice gesture. “I know you’re still here and I love you.” I got it.

Dutch left the bathroom. Caryn stayed to blow her hair dry with the underpowered little hotel unit attached to the bathroom wall.  I stepped into the shower and started turning levers until I had a decent spray going and I soaped up my sweaty pits and balls.

Caryn powered off the hair dryer and I watched her sit on the toilet and pee. She motioned for me to hurry up and she left the bathroom.

I took my time finishing my shower. I knew Dutch and Caryn were getting busy on the bed. The longer I resisted the urge to step out and WITNESS EVERYTHING, the more residual cancer of jealousy I radiated away.

I trusted Dutch. Crazy as it sounds, I realized I trusted Caryn too.

I finished showering. I dried off. I walked out to see Dutch sitting on the couch and Caryn slurping away at his erect cock.

I sat next to Dutch and Caryn moved between us. Once more she jacked both our cocks while she took turns sucking right and then sucking left. It was more comfortable to sit and relax while Caryn worked us.

Dutch turned to me. “A load in her ass. A load in her cunt. All I need is one in her mouth and I’ll have the trifecta.”

“I think she wants that as bad as you do,” I nodded at Caryn. “Bitch, you want to taste your Master’s come?”

“Oh hell yeah!” Caryn smiled. “I want to taste my Master and I want to taste my boss’s hot come too. I want both flavors of the men who own me in my mouth at once.” She was definitely sucking both of us hard, working for our come and not teasing to keep the night going.

“The men who own me.” I wasn’t sure if Dutch had said something to Caryn, or if Caryn was just transitioning through “Act Three” all on her own. “The men who own me.” Yeah, she was coming back to me.

Caryn had been through the ringer that night, but the Caryn on her knees in the floor between us was having some fun. 

“You two are really making me work for it,” Caryn smiled as she transitioned from sucking me to sucking Dutch.

“That’s the life of a sex slave, Sugartits,” Dutch smiled back to her. “You want my big cock back in your ass?”

Caryn started to say “NO!” but stopped herself as she was shaping the word. “Anything my Master wants,” Caryn said. “My Master owns me.”

“So does your boss,” Dutch said.

“Yes, thank you Master,” Caryn said between wet schlurps of Dutch’s cockhead. “The only thing better than being owned by a strong man is being owned by two strong men.”

“After I renounce your ownership,” Dutch said to Caryn, “You better think of more constructive ways to let your boss know you are hungry for attention. You get caught running around on your boss again, and he brings you back to me? Sugartits, you aren’t going to know what hit you.”

Caryn nodded. “Yes, Master. I was a stupid runaround whore because I didn’t talk to my boss first about what my runaround pussy wanted. I’m a stupid bitch.”

Okay, so that was a little thick, but I appreciated that Caryn was trying to mend fences with me. Nice touch.

Dutch stood up and all three of us walked back to the sex bed. Dutch stood around one corner of the bed and I stood by the side. That way we could put Caryn on her hands and knees on the corner of mattress between us while we stood in front and back of her.

We both double-teamed her again, only this time pounding her pussy and mouth instead of her ass. Acting, schmacting. Caryn was totally into it. Her pussy was a fountain of slippery slut juice. She grunted on the fuckstroke and moaned against her suckstroke.

Dutch trained her to pivot on her  right knee and spin counter-clockwise. Instead of Caryn staying put and both of us trading mouth for pussy or pussy for mouth, Dutch smacked her ass and barked “Switch!” and Caryn twirled around on one knee and went right back to sucking Dutch while I slid my cock into her well-fucked and stretched twat. After a few minutes I slapped Caryn’s ass and said “Switch!” and it went back and forth.

Caryn came first on Dutch’s steady bitchfucking. Her pussy made a respectable ejaculation. We didn’t let her rest.

Caryn also came second, this time on my deep bitchfuck pounding. Again, a little quake. A little spray. We put her right back to work.

Caryn and I came next almost simultaneously while she was sucking me hard and Dutch was pounding her cunt. It was an ear-spinner for both of us.

I sat in the voyeur chair while Dutch orderd Caryn’s knees on the floor and he walked his cock into her waiting mouth. Minutes hater he finally let loose with his third orgasm of the night. 

Before he squirted, Dutch stepped back half a step and said, “On your tongue. I want to see every sperm on that tongue before it goes down your throat.”

Then the jets of white fired onto Caryn’s outstretched, waiting tongue and she made a big show of keeping the sperm on her tongue for a long time before she finally had to start gulping it down. She moaned playfully and kept her eyes locked on Dutch’s eyes. There were plenty of extra cum splashes on Caryn’s face and chin and she pulled them slowly to her lips with her index finger. She moaned and snaked a hungry pink tongue tip into the white droplets, slowly rotating the tip of her finger to deposit every single sperm onto her taste buds. Then Caryn’s tongue reeled Dutch’s come behind swollen lips, lips that closed to seal Dutch’s essence into a hungry swallow.

It was come-play right out of a porn movie. Caryn missed her calling. 

Dutch looked at his watch. This prompted me to look at my watch. It was a little after three in the morning. Caryn had been Dutch’s sex slave for almost nine hours.

“Alright,” Dutch sighed. “That’s a night, kids. Shake my hand and take your bitch back.” Dutch extended his hand.

I didn’t shake it. “You sure? You want to keep her overnight?” I asked.

“Naw. We just spent all evening clearing out the secret shit between the two of you. Last thing you need is to put more ‘What ifs’ back between your ears. C’mon.” Dutch lifted his hand again and I shook it.

I told Caryn to get dressed. Dutch went to pee. I pulled my clothes on as well.

I had Caryn kiss Dutch goodbye and she did. Warmly.

Caryn took the loud walk of shame across the hotel lobby to the delight of the smirking concierge. “I’ve gotta take these heels off,” Caryn complained. “They are killing my ripped ass when I walk.” 

“Keep ‘em on, bitch,” I mumbled to her. “Serves you right.”

Our hands came together and locked tight for the first time in forever.