High Class Slut
My wife has become a classy slut. I know that sounds like a contradiction, but let me explain.
We had been married for nearly a year. Melinda is a stunning blond who could have been a model except that her curves were too full. I’m a short unimpressive guy and, what’s worse, my dick is woefully undersized. She enjoyed my large paychecks, which she took and from which I got only a tiny allowance. Guess that’s the one reason she didn’t dump me. She certainly didn’t stay around for the sex. With my four inch erections and premature ejaculations, she would never let me screw her. I was only allowed to eat her pussy, which she wanted all the time, and had to jerk off if I wanted release, which she endlessly taunted me about.
Then one evening, while she was controlling the TV remote as usual, and I was sitting on a hard chair, not daring to complain, she got a phone call. It was from someone she knew, I could tell, and the more she listened to whatever they were saying, the happier she became. I had a bad feeling about what was happening, a feeling which proved to be all too correct. When Melinda hung up she was grinning wickedly. It made her appear extra sexy, which only elevated my usual frustration to higher levels. “You won’t believe what that was about,” she announced. “It was an old friend of mine, Cherry. We used to work together until right before I married you — for an escort service.” “For an…” I choked on the attempt to say it. “But, I mean… It was just to go out with men, executives or whatever… Not for anything… physical.”
“Oh, it was PLENTY physical,” she replied with a laugh. “I was getting laid several times a week. Cherry and I got all the wealthiest clients because we were willing to go bareback, and because we could be classy until we got into their bedrooms, and then turn into total sluts.” “Yes, but… I mean, that wasn’t while we were engaged. Right?”
“Wrong, stupid. That was the entire time we were preparing to get married. Back when I used to let you into my pussy occasionally with something other than your tongue. And no, I didn’t clean up after my dates. I was getting paid big money, along with fantastic tips. When you were going down on me you were licking up all my customers’ cum.”
Trying to put aside that sickening revelation, I weakly said, “So why did she call you now?” “Why do you think, idiot? Because she’s still doing it. She’s with a new agency that caters to incredibly wealthy guys, ones who want really nasty girls who will do anything they say. Cherry thought of me immediately. So now I’m going back to work. But hey, look at the bright side. You’ll have a chance to have sex with me. But you’ll have to pay like all the others.”
My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe what she had said and yet I knew it was true. Dimly, I was aware of her telling me Cherry would be over the next night… with a pair of ‘gentlemen’. In case I didn’t understand, she explained. “We’re going to screw right here. These guys can’t afford to be seen out in public with escorts. I’ll use our bedroom and she’ll take the guest room. And I’ll get extra cash for turning our happy home into a whorehouse. Won’t that be fun, you little-dicked loser?”
All the next day at work I was in a daze. Melinda called me shortly before quitting time to tell me to pick up a very expensive bottle of whiskey. I objected that it would cost me all my allowance money and she told me to think of it as an investment. I did as I was told. When I got home she was in exotic, hot pink lingerie, fussing with her hair. I waited meekly until she was done. Looking incredibly desirable, she strode up to me and slapped my face. “Don’t drool over me like that. If you’re not a customer, you can’t take any free looks. You want to look — or touch — and it’s going to cost you. The going rate for a visit to my bed is eight hundred bucks.”
“I… I don’t have that kind of money. You t… take my check every week. I… I…” “Whatever. Save up from your allowance, boy, and let me know when you have a few bucks. I’ll let you know what you can afford for your money.” The next two hours went by in a blur. Melinda was busy preparing the entire time. All too soon the doorbell rang. Nervously, I went to answer it. Waiting on our front porch were two very well dressed men, accompanied by an elegant woman, with a figure as appealing as Melinda’s. I heard my wife behind me and turned halfway around to see her. She was as perfectly attired and poised as the other female. I nearly didn’t recognize her. They entered and there were introductions all around, excluding only me. My wife sweetly asked the men if 7 and 7s would be all right, and then curtly ordered me to go and make the drinks. While they all went to the living room, I hurried to comply. Returning with the drinks on a tray, I found them sitting in pairs, Melinda and one man on the sofa, Cherry and the other on the couch. I silently served the drinks and, not sure where I was supposed to be, stepped into the dining room where I could be available without being visible.
They made small talk about movies and restaurants. The women acted impressed by everything the men said and, before long, started complimenting them, first on their clothes and then on their good looks. The guys returned the flattery and the females reacted flirtatiously, letting down their classy fronts just enough to allow a hint of sexual availability to show. I wished I was one of the men in there but now, with this new arrangement, I didn’t have enough money for that. Instead, I had to remain hidden, listening, as the women gradually became more direct in announcing their availability, while the men enjoyed playing the game, making suggestive remarks of their own.
Melinda said, “You have such big masculine hands. I’ve heard that means you’re big somewhere else, too. I wonder if that’s true.” My chest got tight. Her date told her, “Well, you’ll just have to check if you want to know.” Pretending to be uncertain, she said, “Maybe if I just feel through your trousers I can… OH MY! Do you mind if I… take a look?” Her innocent act was turning him on. His voice was throaty as he gave her permission. Cherry was asking her date if she could put her head on his lap. He was only too happy to allow her. For a few minutes there were only sighs from the men and appreciative cooing from the women. Cherry must have gotten an okay from the men for me to watch, because Melinda called for me to refresh their drinks and, when I re-entered the room, I got a shocking eyeful. My wife had her man’s healthily large cock out and in her hand, lightly stroking it. Cherry had her cheek on the other guy’s thigh, his fly open, his equally impressive member out, and her tongue teasingly brushing the shaft. I took the glasses but couldn’t stop staring at the lascivious women stimulating those organs that made mine appear so inferior by comparison. I shuddered as I turned away and went to pour drinks.
When I returned, Melinda and Cherry were both on their knees in front of their customers. I shakily handed the men their drinks as they got their cocks sucked. My wife was in an ecstatic trance as she bobbed her head and took that considerable length of meat into her mouth — and throat. She had never even offered to do anything like that for me. Cherry made wet sounds and purred happily as she devoured the shaft before her. It was a bizarre sight, two well dressed and coiffed women acting like total tramps. In spite of myself, I felt my little pecker getting hard. It pressed out shamefully against the front of my pants. Because the women hadn’t accepted their drinks yet, I had to stand there and wait.
Finally they took the glasses. As my wife said, what they had been doing was ‘thirsty work’. And then they headed for the bedrooms. I had to stay with Melinda and her date while they enjoyed wild foreplay and an endless sex session. The entire time she suggested lewd acts she could perform, and used her body as an obscene showpiece to demonstrate what a total whore she was for him. In the end, after he had cum twice, he left a wad of bills on the dresser, and told her he had added a substantial tip. She responded with filthy comments about what she would do for him NEXT time.
After she saw him to the door she returned and told me to strip. My wife laughed at how hard my poor pecker still was. Cherry joined us, lying down alongside her. They left their legs spread, letting me see the cum that befouled their pussies, and not caring that their poses were utterly undignified. I stood there pitifully. To my wife I said, “Can’t I pleeeease at least touch you?” “No way, poor boy. Not unless you can pay.” “B… but…” I realized that now I wasn’t going to get ANY sexual contact with her. “I mean, we’re still… married.”
“Yeah, too bad for me. But like I said, no cash, no nookie. Work some overtime at the office. In a week or two you might be able to afford me. At least, a little bit of me.” She laughed viciously and Cherry joined in.
It took me three weeks to save up even a small amount of money. She told me that because her clients — who she was seeing three to five of each week — were more generous than I could hope to be, that I would have to try her right after she was done with one of them. So, after watching one of her regulars use her like a street whore, I undressed and stood there meekly, a few bills in my hand. “So,” she said impatiently. “How much have you got?” “Well, you know, the way you take most of my pay…” Her angry look told me to stop trying to gain any sympathy. I hung my head and told her, “Forty eight dollars.” “And you expect to get anything out of ME for that? What a piece of slime you are. But here’s what I’ll do. For that I’ll let you lick clean my slit. That last john dumped one hell of a load. Take it or leave it.”
“I…” She couldn’t be serious. But she was. And I hadn’t had any physical contact with her body for so long. I was beyond desperate. Ashamed of my weakness, I placed the bills on the dresser, alongside the much more impressive payment from the guy who had just emptied his balls into her, and put myself on my knees between her legs, my inadequate erection on show. “Couldn’t you at least… wipe yourself down there. I’ll get a warm washcloth.”
“Get your mouth busy or get out of here. And no refunds. You’ve already gotten more than your money’s worth, just staring at me. What’s it going to be, loser?”
I made a small gagging sound as I got my lips on her labia and ran my tongue up to her clit, collecting salty man-scum as I did it. The taste was sickening but at least I was getting to feel my wife’s body. I gingerly placed my hands on her soft hips as I continued to lick… and swallow. She chuckled and shoved her pubes against my lower face.
“Mmmm,” she purred happily. “This is a nice follow-up to getting properly screwed. From now on you’ll keep working that overtime and, whenever you’ve saved up enough, you can pay for the privilege of lapping my box until all that nasty spunk is out of it. It’ll give you something to think about when you wank your weed.” She chuckled. “It’s perfect, making you pay me to do such a disgusting thing. Careful not to miss a drop, pussyboy. I think some ran down into the crack of my ass. Make sure you get that spot. With this being the only way you can be in bed with me, I’m betting you’ll get hooked on it. Maybe you’ll even crave it so much you’ll beg me to have more customers, so there’ll always be a fresh load for you to gobble when you get the bucks together. Get that tongue in deeper, licker-upper. That guy who was in me had a loooong cock. He pumped his paste in really deep.”
After Melinda enjoyed a lively climax I carefully withdrew my mouth, my tongue still slimed with another man’s cum. I was afraid even to move further away, she had me so beaten down. “Let’s do this,” she decided out loud. “Stick your nose in my slit. That’s right, as far in as you can get it. And keep it there! I want you that way while I make sure you know the rules around here. You’re mouth’s not busy, so you can respond to what I say. And you had better give the right answers.” She paused to see if I would give her any backtalk. When I silently remained in that demeaning position, she went on. “First, you will not be putting your useless dick into my expensive pussy. Correct?” I hesitated only a second before I said yes. “Good. And you will never kiss me above the waist. Right?” Again I agreed. “You will work overtime and save your money like a good little husband to pay for the privledge of licking out my snatch after one of my paying customers has used it, won’t you?”
I choked on the words as I said, “Yes, dear.” “And you will always speak to me with respect. I may be a trashy whore, but you’re the husband of a trashy whore. That makes you lower than me. Besides, I love what I’m doing. Do you like being my wimp hubby? No? Then treat me like your Queen Bitch Goddess, because that’s what I am. Oh, and no jerking off without permission. You have to ask whenever you’re horny, which I’ll make sure is constantly, but I’m going to refuse you almost every single time. You eat me better when you have blue balls. And I think it’s funny to see that sad look you get and to hear you whimper.” She laughed. “The most you’ll be allowed to play with your little dicky will be once every two or three weeks. That’s the best you can hope for. More likely it’ll be once every SIX or EIGHT weeks. Hey, maybe I’ll work you down to only four times a year. Wouldn’t that be hilarious? Do you understand all that?”
I wanted to refuse but couldn’t work up the courage, not with my nose shoved into her wet pussy. So I just dug myself even deeper into servitude and went along with all those added orders. “One last thing,” she said excitedly. “I just thought of this one. At least once a week you have to come up with a new idea of something for me to do for my customers. You know, like stroking their cocks with jelly all over the palm of my hand and licking it off them. Or having hot coffee in my mouth while I suck them. I want the first idea tonight. Make it something I can do for them to watch, something really dirty that’ll get them extra hot before they screw me. You’re going to help me be an even bigger slut than I already am. Won’t that be fun?”
“Y… yes. I agree to everything,” I said miserably. “Plus, always talk pretty to me. You know, lots of sweet stuff. And thank me for everything I’m doing to you.” “Okay… dearest. Th… thank you for making me keep my nose inside your… pussy. I really appreciate that. I hope you’ll do it all the time.”
“That sounds better. Now don’t forget any of those rules. I’m sure I’ll have more to add later. You can write them all down so you can review them over and over.” She sighed. “That feels kind of nice, having your nose in there. Rub it up and down for a while. If I doze off, just keep doing it. You need lessons like this to make sure you know your place. In fact, I’ll make that my job, to think up lots and lots of nasty things for you to do that will remind you that you’re even lower than your cocksucking, everybody-else-can-screw-her wife. I’m not going to be happy until you are completely broken, you worm. Right?”
I moaned pitifully. “Yes, my love. Whatever you say. I only want to make you happy.” “Damn straight. Now rub that wet nose against my ass pucker. I’m sure I’ll like how that feels, too.”
She angled her hips up and, though I hated it, I massaged her back entrance with my nose. She even made me use the underside of it, so that my nostrils got rubbed all over that area. I could see that my new life was going to get worse and worse.
Weeks passed. I gave her ideas to use with her customers, like having her wear crotch less panties and keep them on during sex, or massaging their balls while she held just the head of their cock in her mouth. At the same time, as promised, she was inventing new ways to break my spirit. One was to make me go to bed with a pair of her used panties over my head, the fragrant crotch against my nose. Sometimes she would take a pair of Cherry’s panties and double them up. Another was to make me use a feminine depilatory to remove my scant pubic hair. Her worst move was to go on-line and order one of those male chastity tubes. It went over my short dick and locked behind my small balls. She and Cherry would tease me sexually, play with my nipples, and talk dirty to me. With the tube on, no part of my dick could get hard, except the head, which wasn’t covered. That way, I could get terribly horny but not jerk off or otherwise gain relief. She held the key and, after three and a half weeks, when it was time for me to be allowed to cum, she accidentally-on-purpose misplaced it so I had to remain locked up for an extra two and a half weeks. It was awful and, without any normal sexual relief, I started to crave even the demeaning act of cleaning them both up with my mouth. I worked all the overtime I could get. I scrimped to save every dollar possible. And, as my wife had predicted, I hoped that she would have lots of clients so I wouldn’t have to wait once I had enough money to buy a half hour of her time.
Some of the men gave her gifts, expensive shoes and handbags, along with lots of jewelry. They couldn’t get enough of her starting out so classy and then transforming into an absolute slut. She loved to remind me that one of the reasons her johns were so enthused was that I kept giving her more ideas with which to excite them. As overheated as my libido was, I couldn’t STOP coming up with more filthy tricks for her to use.
And that list of rules she had threatened to make, it became a reality. I had to record them all, adding new ones constantly. It grew to 12 pages and she was constantly ordering me to review it, to check how certain sections were worded, and to read aloud from it to entertain her. One rule I particularly hated was that, when I held onto enough money to pay to lick her clean, I had to refer to the cummy mess as ‘vanilla pudding’ and act like a fool.
“Please, can I buy some vanilla pudding? Pleeeease. I want my yummy vanilla pudding. Want to lick it all up. Please, please, please.” So, not only was I paying for the humiliation, but begging for it as well. And in that stupid voice.
At the end of the second month, the escort agency she worked for started to seek customers who were extra kinky and willing to pay for special kicks. That resulted in Melinda telling some of them that I wasn’t just a lowly houseboy, but her husband. The idea that they were making me a cuckold thrilled them. Several insisted on forcing me to watch while they paid for and used my wife. Sometimes I had to count the money. A few wanted to see her tease me and get me frustratingly aroused. Some liked to stay and watch me go down on her to slurp out their cream. She earned extra tips for that, from which I didn’t see a penny. Melinda even kept a record of how many times I did that, saying that she might charge me for it because she knew how much I enjoyed it. When I tried to make a weak protest she made me thank her, over and over, in that despised voice, for the extra vanilla pudding.
And now, after months of my new life, I know it will never get better — only worse. She’s talking with Cherry about some kind of scene that will involve the three of us and a pair of customers. I don’t know what they’ll come up with but I’m certain it will be fun for all them and horrible for me.
I have to go now and answer the door. Melinda told me that tonight she will have to johns at once. And they want me there to watch and to clean up their double load.
By Throne
