- Part XV -
As I pulled into the driveway that evening and parked beside my wife's
car, I wondered how long she had been home. He had told us to attend
work as usual that day, but to be home early. "I have a surprise for
you tonight," he promised. I had learned to dread the "surprises" these
creatures brought.
The house was quiet, so I called to my wife, hoping to have some time
alone with her before Spike returned. Not hearing her answer, I walked
to our bedroom to look around. As I glanced through the wide archway
leading to the master bath, I saw her sitting on the edge of the tub.
Her legs were spread wide, her head lowered, as she concentrated on
her work. Slowly, carefully, she pulled the pink disposable razor over
her outer labia, removing the days stubble along with fluffy mounds of
shaving cream.
"Is he here yet?" I asked. She didn't answer or look up, her dark hair
hiding her face as it fell forward. "Honey, is he here yet?" I
repeated. Her hands began to shake as she continued to bare the full
lips between her open thighs.
"Shhhh!"
I took a quick step into the room to find Spike sitting across from
her, watching intently, grinning from ear to ear. "Isn't this fuckin'
beautiful!" he whispered. "I love to see a woman shave herself," he
added. "It's better than watchin' her strip for me. She's makin'
herself as naked as she can get, showin' me every bit of her pussy.
And your wife just begged me to watch her, didn't ya, babe?" Her belly
began to shake as a stream of tears fell from within the black mane of
hair onto the floor between her outstretched legs. "DIDN'T YOU, BABE?"
he repeated. She could feel his piercing eyes on her as she surrendered
her answer.
"Yes, Spike."
He spoke to me without taking his eyes off her now glistening slit.
"Get dressed, somethin' nice. We're goin' out to dinner. Oh, hubby,
from now on, always knock before you come in here. We'd like some
privacy. Get it?"
"Yes, I understand," I said, knowing the consequences of any other
answer.
Getting my best suit from the closet, I returned to the guestroom to
dress. I waited in the living room for them, not wanting to suffer the
humiliation of having to knock at my own bedroom door as the demon did
as he wished with my wife's unwilling body.
They soon joined me, my wife following the grinning boy into the room.
She was stunning in a white silk blouse, conservative black skirt
falling to just above the knee, and the pearl necklace and earrings I
had given her on our last anniversary. She wore her hair up, in a more
formal style, something I had rarely seen her do before.
Spike, on the otherhand, wore a T-shirt under the black tux coat,
jeans, and sneakers. He seemed pleased with his look as he paced
anxiously, hurrying my wife and me to our car.
We drove to the downtown area of the large city, two hours from our
home. I wasn't familiar with the heart of the city, so Spike gave
directions as I drove. Spike and my wife sat in the back seat. I
watched in the mirror as he leered approvingly at her large nipples
as they pressed against the thin silk, her breasts bouncing enticingly
while we traveled over the rough streets.
Several blocks off one of the busy main streets, we pulled over and
parked. Crossing the quaint cobblestone road, we climbed the steps
under a green canvas awning to an elegant brass and mahogany door.
Spike knocked, waited, then knocked again, before the door was opened
by a butler in formal attire. He greeted us with a blank stare, then
looking at Spike, seemed to recognize him. "Oh, good evening Master
Spike, please come this way," he chanted in monotone.
He led us into a small, elegantly furnished lobby, then to the elevator
at the far end. The doors parted instantly when he pushed the lighted
button, opening into the mirrored interior. "Have an enjoyable
evening," he replied stiffly, as we entered the elevator.
Spike pushed the lighted "B" and we began our descent. Shortly, the
doors opened, allowing the soft music and flickering candlelight to
enter the small compartment. We stepped into the richly appointed
dining room, greeted by the tuxedo-clad maitre d'. "Master Spike,
welcome," he said in familiar tones. "Please, come this way."
He led us through the room full of tables, each surrounded by well-to-
do ladies and gentlemen of the upper class, flaunting the excesses of
success that most of us would never know. A few looked up at us
and smiled as we were led to the only vacant table at the back of the
room. Well lighted, and two steps above the main floor, it overlooked
the dimly lit room, allowing us to watch the entire scene before us as
the patrons consumed exotic selections of food and drink from the
extensive menu.
We were seated, and for a while the waiters seemed to ignore us as we
watched the other diners. Soon, a tall, older gentleman appeared at our
table, smiling at Spike as he introduced himself.
"Hello, Spike. This must be the young couple you've told me so much
about. My name is Mr. Black, and I'll be joining you this evening. It's
a great pleasure to meet you both."
Although in his sixties, he was still handsome, once probably a real
"lady-killer". His dress and manner suggested success and wealth. He
spoke with a polite, but self-assured tone, used by those who built and
ran empires. Although gracious and polite to us all, his attention was
directed mostly to my wife, his eyes dropping often to her moving
breasts under the thin layer of silk.
He sat with us, making small talk, charming my wife with his stories
and clever banter. Soon the waiter arrived with our appetizers, placing
the small platters full of fresh sushi in front of us. My concern
turned to dread as I noticed my wife's plate contained several multi-
colored capsules instead of the delicately prepared fish. Her eyes
widened in horror as she looked down at her nearly empty plate. Spike
grinned as she looked into his threatening eyes, now realizing any
enjoyment tonight would be at her expense. She slowly swallowed the
pills in silence as the rest of us ate the cool, delicious flesh.
Later, the waiter reappeared to remove our empty plates. Smiling at my
wife as he passed her, he inquired, "And did the lady enjoy her
appetizer this evening?" All eyes were on her as she answered, "Yes,
thank you, it was very good." Spike looked around the table, grinning,
excited by her obedience.
By this time, the drugs she ingested had begun to work, her excitement
obvious by the size of her engorged nipples straining against the
delicate fabric of her blouse.
"Unbutton your blouse, babe," ordered Spike. Startled, she looked at
him, her eyes protesting. "Please, not here, not in the restaurant, in
front of everyone," she begged. He just looked at her, grinning as red
flashes filled his eyes.
Slowly, to my disbelief, she unbuttoned the front of her blouse, from
neck to waist. The flimsy silk immediately fell open, revealing the
center half of each round breast and her dark, stiff nipples.
Mortified, she quickly glanced around the room to see if any of the
others had noticed. A few of the older men smiled and winked at her,
quickly returning their attention to the expensive meals before them.
"My dear, you have exquisite breasts," Mr. Black remarked, breaking the
awkward silence. "Thank you," she murmured, not able to look at him.
"I think you need to freshen up, babe," teased Spike. He looked out
over the room to the far end where the restrooms were located.
"Please don't make me do this. I can't walk through the restaurant
half-naked!" she whispered, now very afraid. Again, he grinned, knowing
she would obey him.
As she left her chair, she pulled the blouse together in the front,
trying to cover her swollen nipples. He looked up at her, shaking his
head, not allowing it. She released the silk, allowing it to fall open
again, then walked the distance to the opposite side of the room. Men
and women leered and stared at her fantastic display, nodding in
appreciation as she passed them. She disappeared into the ladies room
for a few minutes, then retraced her path back to our table.
While she was gone, Mr. Black rose from his chair and took her seat
across from me. The waiter quickly removed his empty chair from the
front of our table, then took our orders. When she returned, she stood
in front of us, puzzled at the loss of her seat. She looked down at us,
blouse open, nipples extended and stiffening as we watched. The eyes of
most of the patrons were on her now as she stood with her back to them,
wondering what to do next.
Mr. Black saw her confusion and smiled at her. "I'd like very much for
you to remove your skirt, my dear," he replied. She lowered her eyes
and sighed deeply, as a large tear rolled over her cheek. The constant
grin on Spike's face reminded her of his potentially viscous reaction
if she did not cooperate.
Both hands trembling violently, she fumbled with the zipper at the side
of the skirt. Drawing it open, she tugged at the material several times
as she worked it over her hips, then allowed it to fall to the floor.
Everyone's eyes were now on her, taking in her fantastic body. The
short, silk blouse hung to within an inch of the sheer, black lace
panties stretched over the curve of her perfect ass. The nearly
transparent lace displayed her moist, swollen slit to us as her juices
leaked around the edges onto her inner thighs. She burned with shame,
hearing the crowd behind her exchange lewd comments while they watched.
Mr. Black's gaze drifted up and down her body several times, admiring
her lean, sculptured physique. Slowly and deliberately, he reached up
and gently took a nipple between his thumb and finger. Her eyes closed
and her stomach stiffened as he rolled and pulled the distended teat.
She began to tremble, holding the edge of the table to steady herself.
His hand traveled to the other breast, teasing the remaining nipple to
an equal state of arousal.
"You love this, don't you," he asked. "Yes," she whispered quickly.
Opening his hand, he moved it slowly down her body, his fingers
brushing her breasts and belly. Stopping just above the border of the
fragile, black panties, he caressed her, tracing the creases between
legs and belly, lightly teasing and probing the sensitive skin just
above her swelling slit. She tried desperately to fight the urges he
made her feel, knowing the crowd behind her watched every twitch and
gasp that escaped her. I watched helplessly as the drugs made her his
plaything, humiliating her as she responded uncontrollably to his
touch.
Our waiter arrived soon, arranging our dinners on the large table. I
could see the disappointment on my wife's face as she eyed the three
meals set before us, the sudden aromas firing our appetites. She stood
in front of us, watching us devour the succulent shellfish, not certain
what to do next. After a few bites, Mr. Black freed a small fragment of
lobster from its red carapace and offered it to her. He shook his head
as she reached for it, instead lifting it to her parted lips. She
opened her mouth, allowing him to place the sweet meat on her waiting
tongue. His middle finger remained until she closed her lips around it,
sucking him suggestively as he slowly pulled it from her watering
mouth. Her mouth grew more eager for him with every bite as he
continued to feed her tempting morsels of the firm, juicy meat.
As we finished, the waiter again arrived promptly to clear our table.
Smiling cordially at my wife while glancing repeatedly at her exposed
breasts, he replied, "I trust the lady enjoyed the main course?" "Yes,
thank you," she answered softly. Amused by the waiter's wondering eyes,
Mr. Black looked up at her.
"Take off your blouse for us, my dear. We should show the gentleman our
appreciation for his excellent service."
Looking first at Mr. Black, then at Spike, she begged quietly, "Please,
no, please don't..." Spike's grin was replaced with a furious stare,
red flashing in his empty eyes.
Glancing quickly at the waiter, she lowered her head as she slipped the
cool silk over her smooth shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His
eyes widened and the crowd gasped slightly as everyone admired her
flawless body. Tears fell from her face onto her jutting breasts,
sliding over the velvet skin to her distended nipples, silently, one by
one, dropping to the carpet under her.
Turning his chair toward her, he motioned for her to come closer. She
walked the few steps, standing in front of him, her back still to the
room. Reaching up with both hands, he cradled her face, drawing her
closer. Bending her at the waist he brought her face to his, looking
into her eyes. She lowered her hands to his knees for support, her face
inches from his wise, powerful eyes. His hands left her face, gliding
over her shoulders and narrow waist, stopping on her hips over the
tightly stretched lace. Hooking a finger under each side, he slowly
uncovered her round ass, then pulled the tiny scrap of transparent mesh
down her muscular thighs, letting it fall to the floor.
Humiliated and ashamed of her excited response to him, her terrified
eyes begged him to stop. He stared back at her, reassuring and
comforting her with his refined confidence.
She knew she was wet, feeling the warm liquid coat her inner thighs.
The crowd stared in amazement, watching her cunt swell and flow between
the perfect globes of her firm ass. She had never felt this naked,
exposed before the entire restaurant, excited and captivated by this
impressive stranger.
"Play with yourself. Make yourself cum for me," he whispered.
"Please, not here, I can't. Don't ask me to do this, please!" she
begged.
"Young lady, I've paid a large sum of money for you tonight. I don't
think Spike will be very happy if I ask for a refund."
She hesitated, forced to look into his gray eyes, inches from hers.
He felt her hand leave his knee, knowing its destination. She moved her
fingers into the slippery warmth between her legs, feeling the gaze of
the others behind her as she straddled her distended clitoris with two
fingers. Slowly, she worked them along the length of it, occasionally
circling the sensitive end with a wet fingertip. A sudden warmth rose
from her belly, over her breasts and face. His kind eyes urged her on,
helping her forget her surroundings, making her want to cum for him.
He pulled her closer, covering her mouth with his, stabbing her with
his eager tongue. She pressed hard against him, returning his probing
as she felt the orgasm crash over her surrendering body. Her moans were
muffled as she kissed him deeply. Her hips danced up and down as she
thrust her fingers into her sopping vagina, her hand glistening with
its juices. He played with her swaying breasts as she came, prolonging
her orgasm for the enjoyment of everyone who watched. Finally, gasping
for breath, she collapsed onto his lap, pressing against him as his
erection throbbed under her.
"It's time to go," he whispered, as she clung to him, recovering. She
climbed off him carefully, still unsteady on her feet and breathing
heavily. He rose from his seat, taking her hand to guide her. He led
her through the crowded restaurant, naked and panting, crotch and
thighs soaked from her still-flowing hole. The men and women,
apparently members of this private club, applauded quietly as my naked
wife passed them, allowing them a closer look at her raging body.
When they were nearly at the elevator at the other end of the room,
Spike's appreciative gaze turned to me.
"Let's go, hubby. Pick up her clothes and follow me."
I retrieved her blouse, skirt, and panties, hurrying to catch up with
the young punk. They were waiting for us in the elevator. We entered,
and Spike pushed the lighted button, this time "5".
The doors closed and we felt the sudden extra weight tug at us as the
compartment began its ascent. Mr. Black turned to my wife, lowering a
hand to her wet slit. She gasped as he entered her with two fingers,
rubbing and teasing her with his hand. He watched her face intently as
he played with her, enjoying the sighs of pleasure she could no longer
control. "Do you like this?" he asked, smiling at her surrender.
"Yesss," she breathed, unable to conceal her heat.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, please, no,"
"Tell him. Tell your husband what you want."
Opening her eyes, she looked at me, replying without hesitation.
"I love this. I want him..to play with me,..to make me..cum."
Spike's face lit up as he laughed and screamed at me.
"Holy shit! Did you hear that? She's so hot she'll do it in front of
you! The little slut doesn't even care if you watch!"
Anger and humiliation burned inside me as I watched her collapse onto
the mirrored wall, moaning, as Mr. Black worked his fingers inside her.
A soft "ding" brought the degrading scene to an end as the doors opened
onto the fifth floor. We stepped out of the compartment, into a
comfortable sitting room containing a large sofa and several matching
chairs. To our right were elegant french doors that led to a spacious
bedroom. Spike pointed to one of the chairs, and barked, "Sit!" I did
as I was told, as Mr. Black led my naked wife through the doors to the
bedroom.
Spike flopped on the sofa, stretching out with his hands folded behind
his head. "We'll wait here 'til he's done with her," he explained.
"He doesn't like to be watched, but we can listen. We get to hear your
little slut beg for more while he pounds the shit out of her with his
cock! It'll probably last for hours, so you can take a nap if you get
bored. Just don't try anything funny. I'm gettin' a bundle for her
tonight!"
Spike closed his eyes as the first words drifted from the adjoining
room.
"Looks like you like what you see, my dear."
"Yes."
"Let's see how much of this you can get in your mouth."
I never did sleep over the next four hours, although Spike was out
after the first hour. I listened to my drug-crazed wife beg Mr. Black
for every imaginable sex act. I listened to her scream and cry while
she orgasmed under him as he plunged into her again and again. I heard
her soft slurping as she rejuvenated his resilient erection inside her
warm, grasping mouth. Every time I thought he was finished with her, I
heard her desperate pleading.
"Please fuck me again! Oh God, I need your cock inside me!"
Soon she would start to grunt and moan again as he impaled her,
granting her wish. Then, after another period of quiet, she would
resume her sickening demands.
"Eat me! Stick your tongue in me and lick me 'til I cum! Oh God,
PLEASE!"
Finally, after four hours, she staggered into the sitting room. I had
never seen her this used. She was soaked from head to toe with what
appeared to be an equal mixture of sweat and cum. Her normally
lustrous, black hair was plastered to her head and face. Thick, white
globs of semen had settled in the tangles that framed her pale, drawn
face. Long, thick strings of cum oozed from her gaping vagina, sticking
to her legs as she walked.
Legs shaking, she approached the sofa and softly nudged Spike to wake
him. He opened his eyes and looked up at her tired face, satisfied by
the sight of the drying semen on her eyelashes and corners of her
mouth.
"He's finished with me," she reported.
"Great!" Spike exclaimed as he jumped off the sofa, now full of energy.
"Lets go!"
The open elevator was waiting for us as we stepped into it and rode to
the lobby. Still holding her clothes, I asked Spike if she could dress
on the way down.
"No way, hubby! I can get some free advertising!"
We entered the lobby and the butler stared in amazement as we headed
for the door. Rushing to open it for us, his smile betrayed his
excitement as he eyed my wife's cum-drenched body. We exited into the
cold night air, my wife shivering as it surrounded her. We waited at
the street for a break in the traffic so we could cross to our car. Her
teeth began to chatter as she stood in her bare feet on the cold, damp
pavement. The few people on the street stared at her as they passed by,
a small group of high school boys whistling at her display. Spike went
after them, talking for several minutes before returning.
Finally, the traffic thinned and we began to cross the busy street. She
walked between us, naked and shivering, trying to keep up. Long strings
of semen continued to fall from between her legs, splattering onto the
smooth cobblestones as we made our way to the other side. A passing car
slowed, the men inside hurling whistles and catcalls from the open
windows.
We reached our car and hurried inside, now all feeling the numbing
cold. As I drove the two hours back to our home, I had to listen to
Spike as he congratulated my wife on what a perfect slut she had been.
After a while I heard her crying and looked in the rearview mirror to
see Spike spreading the leaking cum over her belly and breasts as he
complimented her on how "tasty" she looked.
"Oh, stop cryin', ya little bitch! Some of your future customers will
be a lot nastier, so get used to it!"
I spent the rest of the trip worrying about whom he would sell my wife
to next, and what further humiliation he had in store for us.
