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Review This Story || Author: Victor Mann

My Wife. His Whore.

Part 8



My Wife. His Whore.  Part VIII




The next day Lon, after a restorative sleep, took a look at the website for “Pussy Galore,” where hed at last get to see Leena.  Pussy Galore had been involved in lawsuits over its explicitly sexual bondage themed acts and was currently open under an injunction that allowed it to continue its outrageous flouting of existing obscenity law.  He viewed the short snippets of previous performers under the title: “Slave-cunts on Parade.”  In the “upcoming” section he found several short video pieces of Leena and her Master, Alton Drave.  They showed her bound, gagged and whipped and finally being fucked by Alton Drave.  Most evocative was the final piece showing Leena prone upon the floor, her hands cinched tightly behind her, passionately kissing and licking her Masters shiny black boots in fealty.  As usual a picture like this would hit Lon like a thunderbolt; somehow he did feel deep down that this was how it should be between a man and a woman and the witnessing of it had a shattering erotic effect.  And then to know that it was his wife that another man had claimed this way exponentially multiplied its effect for him.  But he did not know at all where this all would lead. 


It would be 6 days until Lon could see Leena again.  As if to taunt him, Alton Drave began posting videos covering more and more of His “familys” days.   Leena continued her “housecunt” appearances, while Trina remained as the abject, big-titted slave on a leash, most often on all fours like a dog behind Alton, as He played the role of Lord and Master.  Lon took a leave from his job for two weeks.  Videos of the Drave household now began to be posted nearly every hour.


The cock-suck ritual began every day, where Leena woke her sleeping Master with sweet-lipsticked kisses on and the sucking of His sleeping Prick.  This was preceded by videos of Leenas “reverse strip-tease,” dressing up in ways that Susan Brownmiller would condemn most severely.   The French Maids outfit seemed to be a favorite, set off by 5”, black, pointed-toe patent leather high heels, seamed black stockings and glamour style earrings.  But there was variance:  a very short red skirt of poly-vinyl, a red lace push-up bra and red ply-vinyl top; red, seamed stockings, red 5 ˝”, pointy-toed, spike heels.  And the corsets, always matching the red, white or black color were being strictly adjusted, ˝ inch at a time, tighter and tighter.  Leena who had always said, “A womans figure should never be the subject of conversation.  A womans shape is her own business and should have no bearing in regard to her desirability, she is not born to shape herself in any way to please anyone but herself.”  Now she would look in the camera and say, “Today the cunts waist will be 26 inches…” while she pulled the special corset pulling strings firmly that allowed her to adjust her own cincture.


But perhaps more than anything, the studied docility of Leenas face, the dulcet tones she always spoke in, the languid, ultra-feminine habits of movement that she had developed gave Lon a tremendous hard-on.  Leena had gone into a hidden feminine recess of herself that Lon had never suspected existed.  And it almost seemed that the more submissive and servile Leena got, the crueler and more presumptive Alton Drave got with her.  She was required to vacuum completely the rather large house each day and she did this dressed to the nines, meticulously made up, her mouth gagged with a pretty red ball-gag and with painful weights snapped to her tit nipples under her blouse or dress  that she would put on before the cameras before she began vacuuming.  The lead weights got heavier every day because Alton Drave wanted:  “A housecunt who becomes better every day.”


Sometimes Alton would be on a  bed fucking the bound and gagged Trina in the ass while Leena quietly minced about vacuuming and tidying up around them.  Clearly he liked to keep the women he trained in his house in competition with each other and the flagrant, casual sexual usage and abuse of Trina, who, now was kept silent nearly completely, was used by Alton to keep Leena in focus.  In fact  there were projection screens in nearly every room of Altons sprawling mansion which he used to project pictures of his current use of Trina into the rooms that Leena, the housewhore, was meticulously cleaning.  Clearly Alton, while often telling Trina out loud that he much preferred his new “cuntmeat” to her, wanted Leena to know that he was not going to get sentimental about her.   This said, when Leena was having her period, she was consigned to a distant room where she could tend to her evening job of posting pictures of the radical Alton household to various websites and handling the brisk private sales of their many videos.  There she always appeared meticulously dressed and groomed as always, but only in colors of red.  And while Leena was “retiring” the various scripted and many spontaneous duties that she was called to were done Trina in nearly every detail.


And it was clear, thoughout, that Alton Drave had astonishing sexual capacities, taking a secret blend of herbs and dietary substances that gave him a sexual appetite closer to that of a teenager than a man his age.   This provided, undoubtedly, sexual engagement for the women that they would never have gotten anywhere else and made it easier for him, then, to keep them in a nearly constant state of sexual stimulation and release.  But, as they were both deep masochists who often came to sexual orgasm from pain itself, this extraordinary capacity was the lesser of his attractions to them than his mysterious and amazing ability to psychologically dominate women, even apparently strong willed women..  It was if he knew how to enter a secret control room in their psyches and effortlessly take them under control.


Gradually,  Master Drave began to post to his home website videos of outings that Leena would take to the small town downtown.  It appeared that through a gradual process, Leena could show up on mainstreet in the types of outfits she greeted Alton with in the morning and not attract undue attention. (In a small town that very much showed the most casual dress). A small archive showed that at a certain point she began showing up with her household red ball-gag neatly in place.  Whether Alton Drave had bribed townspeople to look the other way or whether his local fame allowed him to flaunt his radical lifestyle openly, the videos (apparently taken by Trina) showed Leena as a gagged “whoreslave” walking around town once a week at least.  Even more shocking were the few videos that showed Alton leading Leena around town gagged, in a collar and leash.  It is true that this was rather near Seattle and somewhat liberal town, but it took special audacity to pull these things off.


Lon spent the next two weeks in his new habitual surroundings, Leenas office, with her “whore” clothing and shoes decorating it like a lonely transvestites pad.  He was now masturbating without guilt to the videos of his wife of 26 years, fucking, serving, being punished and debased as the obedient, subservient fuckwhore of another man.  Alton Drave seemed to have nearly erased the woman he knew and loved and had repainted her, as it were, in a way so shocking and audacious that Lon could only feel admiration.


The day came in late November and Lon decided to dress up in suit and tie to visit his “wife.”  Deep inside he yearned for some of the old Leena, the strident, pushy bitch whod been his loving wife for all this time.  He yearned for a little of the old small talk and “ordinariness” that had helped carry his life over this long time.  But at the same time, in a way, he loved the way Leena was now.  He savored the enforced femininity and pliancy that Alton Drave had trained her to.  But he knew he was not “Master” material.  He did not have the harsh boldness that she thrived upon.  It seemed he was left to be only a mere witness to what was happening and he himself could not imagine how he could ever, sensibly, re-engage with her.


He entered the bar of Pussy Galore just before 6 where bare titted waitresses with real shackles on their very high heeled feet and hands waited to serve drinks to the mostly male clientele yet to arrive.  He inquired where he might find Alton Drave.  The bartender, looking a bit puzzled, said,


“Theyre in the second room on the right.  You know the way Alton is, right?” 


Lon now looked a little puzzled himself.


“Well, I mean his show isnt an act. And those two women---well, theyre serving ALL the time.”


Lon nodded.


“I know.  I know,” he said.


Lon headed back to the proper dressing room and knocked lightly on the door.


“Who is it?”  he heard Alton Drave ask.


“Its Lon.  Lon Durtz.”


“Come in,”  he said.


Coming in he encountered Alton in his usual polished black leather garb seated in a padded chair with big titted Trina servicing his large, stiff  cock.  There were incredibly heavy looking clamp weights on Trinas prodigious tits that swayed as she kissed and sucked his member with her pretty lips.  Strangely, the loudest sounds came from Trina, groaning from the extraordinary assault on her delicate tit nipples.


Alton slapped Trina rather harshly on her left cheek to get her to stop her ministrations and she ceased, in what seemed like a daze.


“If a man doesnt hurt a fucking cunt enough, shell start acting like shes got a mind of her own.  And believe me most cunts dont want a mind of their own.”


Alton pushed his still firm member back into his leather pants as he matter-of-factly made this pronouncement.


As if to give Lon an object lesson, Alton turned the screws on Trinas heavy, tit-nipple clamps so that she had to cry out. 


“Master!  Master!” she cried out, her tears beginning to ruin her thick black eye make-up. “Thank you for hurting, this bitch!” she said and, sinking to the floor Trina began to lick and kiss Alton Draves shiny black boot tops, almost frantically, with shocking servility. Her labored breath and groans showed she was in real tit pain.  “I love you Master,” she said indistinctly through her slobber, as she worshipped, it seemed, her Masters boots.


Alton pointed downward with the confident air of someone who has all the facts at hand.

“Im teaching this smart-assed business bitch how to act.  Shes beginning to learn.”


Saying this he got Trina to kneel and untwisted the incredibly cruel nipple clamps and let them fall to the floor.


“Now go put your face back on.  And get some new shoes on, I can see the fucking scuffs on yours from here.”


Trina bowed once more in her lingerie, tit-nippleless bra, crotchless panties, strict corset, hose and heels and gently kissed her Masters boots in obeisance-- pretty, long-nailed fingers clasping his boot backs.  Doing this, she arose and she retreated quietly, not looking into her Masters eyes and headed for the bathroom.


“Well, I wanted you here, and obviously youve not seen Leena for a while.”


Lon nodded and then realized that Leena was nowhere to be seen. 


Then he heard a knock on the door. 


“Come in, cunt,” were Alton Draves words as Leena opened the door to come in.




Lon, his cock hard, from watching in person the summary way that Alton ruled Trina,

looked over, with silent appreciation, at the new, quiet, docile version of Leena who entered through the doorway with a feminine grace most women could only dream of.  Today she wore a very short black leather dress that easily revealed the garters from her radically tight corset, garters that attached to black seamed hose.  Her black patent leather high heels were platform style, perhaps 8” high, yet they radically angled her feet so that it was a wonder that she could step so gracefully in such long, thin heels.  Lon now had a raging hard-on looking at the new version of his wife, with very long, pretty red-painted nails and dramatic false eyelashes that blinked seductively over her thickly made-up face.

And her hair had been bleached platinum blond for Altons pleasure, extending now in a bouffant, Jane Mansfield style.


Leena, ignoring Lon completely, walked over to Alton, carefully lowered herself to her knees and, before a word was said, kissed and licked the shiny black boots of her Master.

Finishing this act of obeisance she rose and stood, positioning herself at the left arm of her Master, still not looking at Lon.  It seemed, now, the point was being made by Alton that for practical purposes he no longer existed for Leena.


His cock still hard as a rock, Lon took in the thick smell of Leenas perfume.  It was not subtle.


Without comment, Alton took a black mouth gag with a black leather strap out of his pocket and forced it into Leenas mouth.  From his other leather jacket pocket he took a blindfold and put it over her eyes.


Leading Leena over to a padded, well-designed sawhorse that Lon had not focused on, Alton leaned Leena over it, and fastened her arms at one end.  Having done this, he pushed her short leather dress over her hips and exposed her crotch area where she wore a satin pair of open crotch panties.


“I fucked this bitch twice this afternoon, but I think she needs another good fuck if Im going to get a good performance out of her.  Since you know the cunt I thought youd be able to give her a little encouragement to be a good submissive whore tonight for the show.  Now Im not interested in any sweet nothings from you, Lon.  It would just ruin this whores attitude.   If you cant just fuck a cunt without a lot of bullshit talk, fuck her because Ive decided she needs it, dont fucking bother.  One of the bartenders can do the job just as easily as you.”


Lon was not an impulsive man.  And in many ways, he wasnt easily manipulated either.

But he found himself incredibly turned on.  He had his hard cock in Leena within a minute and he fucked her hard for 25 minutes.  He was not even offended by the slop and squish he felt when he entered her cunt, it was sloppy secondsor was it thirds--- he fucked his wife for the first time as if she were nothing but a fuckhole.  But he was not unaware of the series of orgasms her body shook with as he raped her.





  






Review This Story || Author: Victor Mann
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