BDSM Library - Sexy Sally And Boss Bob

Sexy Sally And Boss Bob

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Synopsis: Harry marries Sally upon graduation for college and goes to work for Boss Bob in a large corporation. Ten years go by before Harry's Boss seduces Sally and turns her into his submissive slut.
SEXY SALLY & BOSS BOB BY "JIGS"
Part One

My name is Harry Fountain. I'm 35 years old, six foot one, 180 lbs. with brown
hair that is receding in front and sparse on top. I'm Vice President in charge
of Marketing for the Insurance division of the world's largest privately owned
conglomerate company. I have been an employee of the parent corporation, or one
of its wholly owned subsidiaries, since I graduated from college 10 years ago.
Robert Simpson was a Senior Vice President and my boss when I was first hired.
From the very beginning, he took me under his wing as his protege. It was soon
obvious to everyone that I was, and have continued to be, his fair haired boy.
Bob Simpson is a man of considerable confidence, brains, and a wide rage of
ability. At six foot six, 260 lbs. of hard muscle, a deep baritone voice, a full
head of prematurely gray hair, and a similar mustache, he is a imposing man who
looks every bit the college all-American and professional football player he
once was. His chief skill, however, is an uncanny ability to command the loyalty
and obedience those around him. "Boss Bob" as he likes to be called, can charm
the birds out of the trees, or when he thinks necessary, turn a frown into a
thunderbolt. The stare of those coal black eyes when he is displeased is
something few people can ignore or ever forget. No one that I know of has ever
seriously contested Bob Simpson's right to the title of "Boss" that he insists
on with such pride. In only five years after his retirement from professional
football "Boss Bob" was promoted into the elite core at the top of the corporate
ladder as naturally as a kite soars upward in a high wind. Now, ten years later,
he is CEO, and President of the Corporation. Only Antonio Carmine, one of the
world's richest men who continues to serve as Chairman of the Board, has more
rank and authority in the direction of this multi-billion dollar company, and
nobody, not even Carmine, has more to say about its day to day operation. As the
company grew larger and more diversified, and Bob was promoted from job to
bigger job, I simply tagged along behind him as his anointed favorite. With his
support and influence I was jumped over a dozen or more men with more seniority,
and who, as I must admit, had better qualifications for promotion. That didn't
make me very popular with my fellow executives, but nobody has ever complained
on the record because whatever Bob Simpson wants, Bob Simpson gets, and right
now at least, Big Bob the Boss wants me to be a Vice President. Darla MacIntire
has ridden Bob Simpson's coat tails in his rise to success in much the same way
as myself. Darla is a striking redhead with an ample and impressive body. She is
four or five years older than I, and was already the Boss's personal
administrative assistant when I arrived on the scene. One of the many mysteries
about Bob Simpson is his sex life. He is not married. He makes public
appearances with various women from time to time, almost without exception movie
or society celebrities. As far as anyone knows, these women are simply props,
carefully chosen to hype the occasion rather than anyone with whom the Boss
might actually be sharing a relationship. Except for such apparently platonic
companions, and an obviously close professional relationship with Darla
MacIntire, no one seemed to be aware of any women in Boss Bob's life. Darla
herself is married, and the mother of a daughter now in her late teens.
Corporation gossip has long maintained that Boss Bob was fucking her on the
side, but no one seems to have any personal knowledge of that as a fact. The
only alternative theory to Darla as Bob's mistress seemed to be that Bob was a
fag. For someone otherwise so perfectly masculine, a homosexual preference
didn't seem likely. Still, there were those who adhered to that possibility, and
to them, I filled the role of the Boss's male lover. As God is my witness tho,
until a year or so ago, sex was a subject I never heard Bob Simpson even
mention, and he certainly had never made a sexual pass at me, or in my presence
to Darla, or to anyone else. For all I knew and had seen, he was some kind of a
monk who had taken a vow of celibacy.

And then there's my Wife, Sally. In my final year in college I began to date
Sally Truxel exclusively. Sally was a honey blond blue eyed knockout, the Sweet
Heart of Sigma Chi, the White Rose of Sigma Nu, the Homecoming Queen, the Prom
Queen, and queen of just about anything else that needed an every-man's-dream
coed as a centerpiece. She knew she was a doll, and (like most pretty girls) she
reveled in it to the point of being a bit of a tease. She never failed to show
off her long almost perfect legs and full boobs whenever the occasion allowed,
but of course always in a tasteful way consistent with her image of campus icon.
Until I came along Sally must have dated half of fraternity row, and a fair
number of the athletes from the jock dorm, even some of the black ones if the
rumors are true. How sexually active she was nobody seemed to know for sure, but
there were a number of unverified (and probably unreliable) dirty stories with
Sally in the staring role. One thing was known sure about her, however. She
liked to snuggle up close to her date on the dance floor. When the music was
slow and romantic, she would press her delicious thighs and tits against her
dance partner, and tease him with the sensous sway of her body. When the band
stopped, more often than not the poor guy had to escort Sally back to his table
while trying to hide an embarrassing erection. Likewise, the word was around the
student union that she kissed with her tongue, and that she was a 'hot neck'
even if (maybe) she wouldn't 'go all the way'. Every would-be-stud on campus was
sure that behind that saucy smile, there was a promise of pure raw sex that he
could tap given the right chance. As a result, whether a title well earned, or
simply someone's wishful thinking, from her freshman year on she was widely
known by the behind-the-back nickname of "Sexy Sally." While Sexy Sally was
practicing her French kiss in cars parked in the woods behind the football
stadium, I was studying the French language from a textbook. Although I lived
and ate in a "frat house," I was always more at home in the Phi Beta Kappa
reading room at the library. Even if I wasn't a big man on campus, however, I
was considered by the coeds to be good looking, I was a member of an elite and
socially desirable Greek letter fraternity, even it President my senior year,
and I was generally thought of by my classmates, male and female alike, as "a
good all around guy." Those are valued qualities on a college campus, and they
exempted me from the classification of "nerd" that my reputation as a scholar
would have otherwise surely earned. How "Sexy Sally" and I became an item is a
little hard to figure. I suspect that it was Sally's mother who decided that
with graduation approaching, it was time for Sally to cut the shit and start
looking for a husband able to support her. My scholastic reputation as a brain
had earned me an A-1 rating for probable economic success, and I fit Momma
Truxel's plan for Sally's future. However it was, Sally and I started dating
early in the football season of our senior year. Midway through the basketball
season, we became "pinned." That was the night she let me fuck her for the first
time. I'm almost certain Sally was no virgin on our first lovemaking (altho she
has never said one way or the other.) I was, but I fumbled my way through
acceptably, at least as best I knew how at the time. Sally seemed satisfied with
my performance, and indeed "satisfied" might generally describe our sex lives
thereafter until "Boss Bob" came into the picture. By time graduation day came
around, Sally and I were engaged to be married. We had a late June wedding, a
honeymoon in the Bahamas, and I went to work for Bob Simpson in mid July as soon
as we returned. As I have said, my promotions came quickly, and my salary, stock
options, and perks increased even more rapidly. Sally and I had no children, but
neither of us were interested enough in parenthood to even try to find out why
not. Sally loved the good life from her first taste at corporate headquarters in
New York. Clothes and jewelry, maids, golf on Long Island, lawn parties with the
Connecticut elite, and weekends at fashionable spas along the New England
shore..., these were all things that she enjoyed far too much to want to become
a mother. I was just as self indulgent as she was, and wrapped up in my work. We
were both contentedly living off the fat of the land when Boss Bob stopped being
just my boss, and started to became a day to day part of our personal lives.

*** That was about six months ago. With some heavy financial help from my
corporation, Sally and I had purchased a very very expensive three bedroom, two
bath, two level, apartment twenty floors over a shopping mall of exclusive shops
and trendy restaurants on Manhattan's 5th Avenue. We were less than two blocks,
and a 10 minute walk, from the skyscraper where my (and Boss Bob's) offices were
located. Boss Bob began to drop by our apartment for dinner. Whenever he worked
late, or a social engagement made it inconvenient for him to go on to his estate
home in Westchester he would spend the night in a spare bedroom. After a while
he sort of just moved in and began to keep an extensive wardrobe there. By then
Bob was sleeping over three or four nights a week at our apartment. As far as I
was conserned, his frequent presence in my home was only an innocent
accommodation of convenience. We certainly had ample room for him. Sally was no
cook, and didn't try to be. All our meals were prepared by, and brought in from,
the restaurants downstairs. We had maids to serve the food, and to clean up
after us, so neither the meals nor the housekeeping were any imposition on
Sally. Bob was fun to be around, and his contributions to the household budget
were generous. It all seemed like a perfect situation. Eventually, however,
Bob's Mr. Hyde showed up. As I got to know him better, it became apparent to me
that Bob was not the asexual monk I thought he was. To the contrary he was a
very smooth operator around women. He knew exactly how to stroke a female ego
without alarming its owner. He flattered Sally at every opportunity, but for the
first month or two he was always careful to be correct and proper about it. He
complemented her clothes, hair do, nails, etc., always suggesting what a sexy
and desirable woman she was without actually saying so. You could see Sally
loved it. Once he had overcome her reserve and moved past her seeming
indifference to his attentions (a first line of defense for every woman), he
became more outspoken and direct. He began to tell her straight out how
beautiful she was, how her hair shown in the sun, how good she smelled, how her
smile made his day, and even how her mere presence could arouse a man (meaning
himself of course). By the time four months or so went by Bob had been living at
our apartment so often that he seemed a part of our life there. Sally had grown
comfortable with him, and his sexy flattery. She thought she knew him by then,
and if she ever felt threatened by this dynamic and domineering stranger in her
home, her concern had long since passed. Thus reassured, and enjoying the
thought that she was still a desirable woman who could catch a handsome man's
eye, Bob's new and more personal approach was clicking with her pretty well. It
was becoming more and more obvious, however, to everyone (except to me) that Bob
was wooing my wife; and altho she wasn't exactly encouraging him, she wasn't
backing away either. Bob, being Bob, simply came after her all the more
determined and confident of success. The sex thing came more and more out in the
open. What had been polite complements turned bold and bawdy. He would tell her
straight out how "luscious" her "tits" were, and he would ask her with a leer
she really needed the bra she was wearing. Sally was a little embarrassed by
this new side of our Boss Bob, but crude or not, She was clearly flattered by
his attention and sexual innuendo. Somewhere down deep inside her feminine self,
Bob had struck a cord in Sally. She was once again the beautiful and desirable
"Sexy Sally" that college boys had lusted after a decade ago. She liked that
feeling too much to let a little dirty talk upset her, or at least so she must
have reassured with herself. I don't know whether she understood she was being
seduced or not, but hearing no protest from her, Bob was steadily, if gradually,
upping the ante. One night after dinner, Bob started a conversation supposedly
with me, but one clearly directed at Sally, about what great "stuff" my wife
had. He said that a man should be downright proud to have that kind of "stuff"
available to him in bed and he hoped I was taking the proper care and advantage
of it. He then turned to Sally and asked her straight out whether she was
getting enough regular cock, and did she enjoy it when I "slipped her the man
meat?" This was not just dirty talk. This was outright proposition to fill in as
a substitute sex partner if needed, and Sally must have known it. She hadn't
accepted any of Bob's sexual challenges yet, but her response was uncertain and
ambiguous, and at the least, she was now willing to flirt back at Bob's dirty
talk. Later that same evening Bob asked her whether her pubic hair was as blond
as that on her head. Sally didn't seem the least bit offended. Rather she coyly
promised to let him see for himself some time. In fairness to Bob and Sally, all
this talk was usually lubricated with a good deal of wine and liquor, at least
that was what I told myself. More honestly tho, I must admit that drunk or
sober, I was no more eager to put a stop to Bob's advances than Sally was. I am
not prone to schoolboy jealousies. I have never thought of myself as a stud, and
I don't have much ego in that respect. I had long since decided that if my Boss
wanted to flirt with my wife, and talk sexy to her, then she was damn well on
her own. I certainly wasn't going to jeopardize my career over some dirty talk
even though I began to suspect that all this was likely to take us into some
very strange waters indeed.

*** Sure enough, that ship of fools set sail for the first time on a Friday
evening last fall. The weekend party time had arrived, and all three of us were
enjoying a good wine and some laughs. Dinner had arrived late, and we all were
pretty well oiled even before we ate. After the dishes were cleared, we sent the
maid home early and went back to drinking. Sex was the topic of the evening as
it had become recently on every such occasion between the three of us. Bob
wanted to know if I had ever tied Sally spread eagle on the bed before I fucked
her. When I admitted I hadn't, he offered to take her into the bedroom and get
her ready for me right then. Sally's blouse unaccountably became unbuttoned at
the top, and without a bra (unusual for her), she was showing a lot of tit
flesh. Bob managed a not very subtle look down her cleavage and spotted a
nipple. He was not bashful in bragging about his good fortune. That led to a
drunken debate about how long and hard Sally's "nips" were. It was an argument
that Sally abruptly ended when she suddenly pulled her blouse all the way open
and flashed us with her bare breasts for a half minute or so. Sometime after
midnight Sally went into the kitchen for more ice. Bob followed her in. They
were gone for longer than seemed necessary, and finally I stuck my head in the
door to see what was going on. Sally was standing facing away from me with her
abdomen pushed against the sink . Bob was behind Sally with both arms around
her, squeezing her body hard against his. Bob's hands were inside Sally's
unbuttoned and open blouse, fondling a bare breast in each one. From the way she
was grinding her butt back against his groin, I assumed she must have felt a
length of rising cock pulsing against the crack of her ass. I heard Sally groan
softly, but she said not a word of denial or protest. I could hear Bob telling
my wife what good "stuff" she was. Her "stuff" had been a recurring theme for
weeks now, but this was more than just dirty talk. This was a request, no more
like a demand, that she give him some of her "stuff." Sally didn't say yes, but
she certainly didn't say no, or try to pull away. Instead she just stood there,
her head laid back, in a kind of trance as if she wished the world to go away so
she could enjoy the fingers that were caressing her breasts and nipples. What
was I to do? I could barge in and play the jealous husband, and sure enough by
tomorrow morning I'd be out on the street with no job and no future; this
marvelous life would be gone, and the chances are that Sally would be gone with
it whether she fucked Bob Simpson this evening or not. It didn't seem to me that
she objected to having him feel her breasts, and damn her, if she didn't care, I
couldn't think of any reason why I should. I quietly went back to the living
room, and minutes later Bob and Sally joined me. As if by a common conspiracy
our little drinking party was adjourned, and we retired to our respective
bedrooms with an embarrassing haste. That little scene I had witnessed in the
kitchen had left me as horny as a sailor on leave. I lost no time in grabbing a
handful of naked wife, and demanding that she give my prick her full attention.
If she could let our guest fondle her, she could damn sure pleasure me as well.
Sally didn't object. She was just as worked up as I was, and we skipped our
usual mundane foreplay to go directly to our favorite position..., me on my
back..., Sally siting upright and astride my crotch with my cock buried in her
pussy. Pegged on my cock like that, she threw her head back, closed her eyes and
rode my dick with hips that slowly worked their way forward, back, and then
forward again. We had been at it five minutes or so, when a nude Boss Bob
entered the room with a ten inch erection pointing the way. He stood by only for
a moment or two before kneeling on the bed alongside my shoulder where he could
best watch Sally jacking my cock with her pussy. Eventually, tentatively, as if
he could resist no longer, he reached out and gave one of Sally's nipples a hard
pinch. Sally opened her eyes and gave a quick start, but said nothing. I don't
think she knew he was in the room until then. Bob asked her if she was "taking
meat." She nodded, 'yes.' He asked her if she would like to "take Boss meat,"
and she again said nothing. This time if there was any movement of her head at
all, it was hardly perceptible. Still, I thought I saw my wife again nod, "yes."
Whatever her answer, even as she rocked her pussy on my cock, her full attention
was frozen on Boss Bob's great male spear. As if unable to resist her
fascination, Sally turned her head to the side, and by balancing her weight on
her arms and hands as she bent forward toward him, she took the head of Bob's
erect penis into her mouth. Stooped over me like that, a nipple of one beast was
brushing my chest, and her chin was just above and within inches to the side of
my eyes. I had a ringside view of her cheeks hollowing as she began to suck the
prick of this stranger to our bed. I was stunned. Blow jobs had never been
Sally's favorite thing, altho she would occasionally suck me off in appreciation
for some expensive diamond or sapphire pretty that I had given her. Even then,
tho, she kept a towel handy to dispose of the cum that she refused to swallow.
This night, however, she seemed to actually enjoy servicing my boss with her
mouth. As I lay there trying to hold back my ejaculation under the pressure of
Sally's grinding hips and pussy, I idly wondered what she would do if he should
shoot in her mouth. Would she swallow his cum? I had to wait till later for an
answer to my question, however. All this was more stimulation than I could
stand, and as my wife sucked on my Boss' penis, my poor balls fired their best
load into her vagina. After 10 years I can tell when Sally has orgasmed, or is
about to. This night, I was way too quick for her. Even as hot and horny as she
was from our evening of sexy talk, and that little scene in the kitchen with
Bob, she had not yet reached a climax. My unfortunate premature ejaculation
would be no loss to Sally, however. I was barely spent before Bob grabbed a
fistful of Sally's hair and pulled her mouth from his cock. Already distressed
by my too quick response to her overheated pussy, Sally whimpered a small
protest at the sudden loss of the male lollipop she had been sucking. She
needn't have worried. Bob wasting no time in substituting himself for Sally's
sexual klutz of a husband. As if she was a rag doll Bob's strong arms lifted her
off my softening cock, and dropped her back down upright on her knees straddling
his crotch. Directly under her spread thighs Bob's huge cock was sticking
straight up, aimed directly at her already used, still open, but unsatisfied
pussy. Sally's whining protest quickly ceased when she realized that a solution
to her horny might yet be at hand. Bob's penis was much larger than mine,
however and Sally was not only aware of the difference, it seemed that she
wasn't at all sure she could handle it. I could see absolute awe in her eyes as
she stared down at the male member that was offering itself, so available but so
frighteningly huge, at the very portal of her pussy. Sally was clearly
struggling with what to do next. I knew she desperately wanted to be fucked, but
I was right beside her watching. Moreover, what might a cock that big do to her
poor pussy? I doubt Sally had ever even seen a penis that size outside of a porn
movie, and certainly she had never had one like it inside her. Never the less,
Bob pressed the issue. "Do you want to take the Boss meat, Sally," he asked. Her
answer was another small, but this time, a quite perceptible, nod, "yes." It was
clear that Bob expected a reply a good deal more substantial than what he
received. He seemed about to say something, but then thought better of it.
Instead he reached up with one hand and began to play with a tit and its nipple.
The other hand he slid between Sally's legs where her pussy hung barely above
the head of his penis, and began to stroke her clit and pussy. Sally gave a
startled gasp as he ran a finger deep inside her. Minute after minute crept by
and still he played with her, teasing, tempting, torturing her with erotic
caresses. Finally, abruptly, he brought the hand that had been in her cunt up to
Sally's face. His ran his fingers wet with the juices from her vagina teasingly
over Sally's lips and then into her mouth where she sucked them one by one like
little cocks. Sally was signaling her desire with short low moans, but she was
still refusing to surrender, and her hips remained indecisively suspended over
the cock she wanted so badly. Bob, however, persisted, and after she had cleaned
his hand with her mouth, he returned to teasing her sensitive tits and cunt.
Again he asked, "Do you want me to fuck you Sally?" Once more she answered only
with a nod, "yes." This time, however, the signal was considerably stronger and
more positive. Sally's moral resolve was eroding under the stress of her need
and Bob's assault. Bob and I both could see it wouldn't be long now before she
would give in to the penis that waited under her. "Come on Sally," Bob pressed,
"I won't force you. I'm not into rape. If you want me to fuck you, you have to
ask for it." "Not with Harry here, please..." Sally voice was a quiet whisper,
as if she was trying to hide from my ears the desire and distress that lay under
her words. Bob, however, remained insistent. "Yes, with Harry here! I want him
to hear you beg me to fuck you. It is time he learned what a horny little slut
he is married to." With that, Bob pulled one of Sally's hands down to his cock
and held it there until she wrapped her fingers around it. Her mouth fell open
as she her hand explored its length, and then ever so gently, she began to jack
its skin slowly up and down over the huge plum head. With the feel of that great
penis under her fingers, Sally's resistance collapsed. Quietly she admitted what
I could plainly see. "God yes, Bob, I need it in me so bad. Fuck me" "Well then
get on with it," Bob answered, "You have it in your hand. Stick it in your cunt.
A sluts earns my cock by sliding it into her pussy without help." Sally lowered
her hips an inch or so closing the gap that had separated the hard-on waiting so
tantalizingly under her from her vagina. Sally's pussy was soaking wet and its
lips were still slightly parted from being around my prick. No woman was ever
better prepared than Sally to take a penis inside her, even one as exceptionally
large as Bob's. With deft fingers, she forced the head into her slick and open
hole. With Bob's oversized rod in place, her hands and arms were then free to
support her upper body on his shoulders. Balanced on top of him that way, she
leaned forward, her tits dangling in is face, and gradually eased him up her
love chute, taking more male meat inside her than even a pussy as hungry as hers
could be expected to handle. It must have hurt some to impale herself on that
monster of a penis, but Sally was in such heat that a little pain was of no
consequence. She wanted that thing inside her at any price, whether her pain, my
feelings, or our marriage. Nothing mattered except that Boss Bob would fuck her
with his mighty male member. Bob, however, understood that he was a difficult
fit, and he was considerate about it. He let her take her time settling down
onto his oversized woman tamer, and slowly, inch by inch it disappeared into
Sally's cunt. She took it all. To my utter and complete disbelief, her pussy
finally rested flat on Boss Bob's pelvic bone without even a millimeter of his
other bone showing outside her incredibly stretched cunt. Once down, neither
Sally nor Bob moved a muscle. She was, I suppose, simply enjoying the feeling of
being stuffed with more cock than she had ever before experienced. She had made
her decision and her crisis of conscience had passed. She had what she needed,
and her eyes glazed over with pure bliss. As the same time Bob seemed satisfied
to let her savor the moment. He knew that he had won. There would be ample time,
and opportunities, in which to fuck my horny wife. . Bob asked her if she "liked
taking the Boss meat?" Her response was still another of those small nods of her
head. This time Bob didn't hide his displeasure with her response. He raised his
hands under her arm pits and without warning lifted her off the pole she needed
so badly, and sat her down astride his thighs. The iron shaft that a moment
before had been so promisingly deep in her cunt now lay tall and unused, flopped
against Sally's belly, a dark brown smear against her white skin and whispy
blond bush. "Please! No! No! Put it back!" came Sally's immediate protest.
Before replying, Bob reached under her splayed legs and hooked his social finger
deep in her pussy. At the same time, his thumb pressed down hard on her clit.
With Sally's tender core caught in the vice of his hand, Bob demanded her total
capitulation. "Tell me Sally," Bob asked softly, "did you like taking the Boss
meat? Did it feel good in you? Do you want more? Do you want me to fuck you...,
or not?" Sally turned pale as the implications of the threat "or not" hit her.
She was beside herself with a craving to remount her lover, but the submission
he was demanding was more than she had expected to give. Always before Sexy
Sally Truxel the campus queen had been in full control of her sexual favors.
Now, an overpowering desire to be filled with ten inches of the Boss meat had
changed all that. Still, she struggled mightily to retain some shred of her old
pride and self respect. "All right then, I'll say it," she whimpered with petty
exasperation, "Do it to me." Then as she turned towards me, louder she said,
"Forgive me Harry, but I do need him so." "Not good enough Sally," Bob
responded. "I won't let you pretend any more. Harry may not know it, but you
have been trying to be slut all your life. You just never knew how, and Harry
didn't understand sluts well enough to teach you. Me tho, I know all about
sluts. I know that you want this big cock of mine. I know that you're going to
let me fuck you with it. I know that this won't be the only time either. That's
what you want isn't it Sally, my big cock to fuck you..., to fuck you again and
again? Get the over it, Sally. Come be my slut. Beg me to fuck you." Sally
responded with a woeful moan from behind clenched teeth, still trying to bluff
upon a fading hope that this game could be played out without her total
surrender. Bob and I both could hear the raw desire in her moan, however. There
was no way. Almost inaudibly, so low was her whimper, she gave it up. "All right
then. Fuck me," she said, . Then, realizing the inadequacy of her surrender, she
said again, much much louder this time, screaming out her need for a cock in her
cunt. "Yes, Please, Please, I am a slut....fuck me!" I knew then our lives had
just changed forever. I had no idea yet how much!

*** Bob had played this game before. He knew all the tricks. He had his fish on
the line and now was the time to set the hook. "All right my sweet little blond
whore. Mount me. Climb back up on that pole, stick it in your cunt, and ride me.
Show me how glad your are to take the Boss meat. Pleasure yourself as you will,
but one thing tho, you must not come until I do. Remember, when you take the
Boss meat, you have to do what the Boss tells you." Sally was quick to comply
with the orders from her new boss. Raising herself on her knees again, she
reached under her and with her hand guiding the way, she dropped her love sleeve
down over her the big penis she so lusted after. This time, however, her
impalement was neither slow nor gradual. No, she needed to fill her hole with
boss meat now more than ever, and with a single downward thrust she drove him
home all the way to his balls. Sally's was upright on Bob's cock this time,
sitting on it and with the same slow grinding back and forth movement of her
hips that she had used to jack me off. She hadn't gotten off on my cock, but
this time my wife was better serviced with a full ten inches inside her. Now,
even this slow measured love making was carrying her to the edge of orgasm.
Frustrated, and struggling to control the impending climax her lover had
prohibited, she began to whimper. "Please Bob...." she began in a whine. "What
is it Sally?" Bob interrupted, "and its 'Boss Bob." "God, I need to cum. Please
Boss Bob..., I'll die if I don't cum." "No, you won't die my little slut," Bob
assured her. "Sluts don't die from being fucked." "Please Boss Bob, don't call
me that. I'm not a slut, its just that...." "You are a slut Sally. Your husband
just heard you admit it. He heard you beg me to fuck you, remember, and what are
you doing now? You are sitting on my cock with him watching. What else could you
be but a slut. Say it! Tell me you are a slut!" "Oh God, Boss Bob! No, don't
make me say that." "Say it bitch! If you want me to fuck you, say it!" "Oh
please, don't stop. Please, you just can't stop. I need your cock! I do so need
to be fucked. All Right! Yes! I admit it. I am a slut..., but please Boss Bob,
let your slut cum." "No way slut. This our first time together, and we will
finish together! When you feel my cum in your cunt, you can climax too, but not
before. If an orgasm is what you want, then you'd better get your ass in gear
and get me off..., right now." Sally needed her orgasm, and she had one bubbling
in her ovaries she couldn't hold back much longer. She had to make Bob cum in
her cunt, and she simply went crazy trying. I had never seen her like this
before. She was still upright on her lover's belly, impaled on his pole of
flesh, but there was no more slow grinding hips. Using her thighs as springs,
Sally fought to defy gravity, levitating herself upward and then dropping
suddenly down onto the peg of man flesh waiting under her. Hair flying, boobs
bouncing, in a wild fury she hammered herself on and off all that male meat, all
the while fondling her own breasts, stretching them toward her mouth to bite and
lick her own nipples. Despite her uncontrollable passion, from time to time
Sally struggled briefly to regain some measure of control over her situation.
Once, and then once again, she swore obscenely at this man who had just mastered
her, still trying to resist him, but within moments her resolve would collapse,
and she quickly returned to pleading for him to fuck her, and to fill her with
his cum. Boss Bob was clearly in control, but apparently he had decided not to
push his advantage too far, or was his leniency because even his iron control
couldn't withstand Sally's frantic assault upon his prick? Whichever, it was
only minutes after Sally had abandoned her last effort at resistance that semen
began to seep from around the seal between his cock and Sally's pussy. They must
have heard Sally's cry of release 20 floors below on 5th Ave. If this was an
orgasm, what the hell had she been having with me all these years? Had she been
faking it with me? Perhaps, but I don't think so. Sally was simply too sensual,
to demanding of her own pleasure, for that. This was simply sex on a higher
level, on a much higher level, than Sally and I had ever imagined existed.
Still, Bob Simpson was not yet through. While Sally was still quivering, he took
her by the hand and put her on her knees before the chair where I had just
watched my wife ride another man's cock to a shattering orgasm. I should have
been hurt and angry at what I had seen. The truth was, however, I was excited
and aroused watching my pretty little bitch get fucked half to death by another
man. It had been the sexiest show I had ever seen, partly I suppose because this
was not just some horny female getting dicked, this slut was my wife. Anyway, my
prick was up, hard as a rock, and I guess Bob figured that he owed me. "SUCK HIM
OFF!" Bob ordered. For the first time in our marriage, my Sally began to blow me
like a street whore instead of a preacher's wife. After a single taste of Boss
meat in her belly, Sally had become all slut. She so needed a cock that she
didn't care if it was mine or someone else's, or whether it filled her mouth or
her cunt; it was sufficient that it was a penis, hard and erect, and it was hers
to pleasure herself with. It had been a long time since I had cum twice in one
evening, but then I had never had a blow job like one this before from Sally or
anyone else. Sally's bobbing head and swirling tongue soon squeezed a new load
from me...and then, as if to answer any questions I may have had, she swallowed
it all. Savoring every last taste, she even licked away the late arriving final
drops as they dripped off the end of my penis. As soon as Sally had finished
with me, Bob stood her up and led her across the room where he seated himself on
the couch. There, he made her stand before him, legs spread, arms up, fingers
locked behind her head, tits out, the an icon of a slut in total submission. Bob
hooked her vulnerable pussy with a finger, and lifted her until she teetered on
her toes. He pulled her forward to him until he could reach a nipple in his
mouth. Sally moaned, and Bob raised his head from her breast and asked, "What
are you Sally." "I am a slut." The reply came in a whisper. "Whose slut are you
Sally?" "I am your slut. Boss Bob's slut." "Tell me what you want, Sally."
"Please, Boss Bob, I want your cock." "Where do you want me to put it?" "In my
cunt, in my mouth, whatever you want Boss Bob." Sally was becoming braver. Her
reply was louder and more certain. "But what if I want to fuck your ass, will
you take my cock there too. Will you spread your buttocks with your hands and
beg me to fuck you in the ass?" "Yes Boss Bob, Yes I will beg you to fuck my
ass. Put your cock in me wherever you wish, wherever it gives you pleasure. I
want you to fuck my cunt, my mouth, my ass....., but please for the love of God,
just fuck me." That business about being fucked in the ass really gave me the
double take. Sally had always obstinate in her refusal to even discuss anal sex,
and here she was willing to beg this bastard to shove his oversized prick up her
rear end. Bob looked at his pleading victim questioningly for a moment, and then
to my disappointment, he declined the opportunity for something what I really
wanted to see..., Sexy Sally, the campus queen, on her hands and knees with ten
inches of hard penis buried in her asshole. "No Sally," he told her, right now I
want you to cum in your mouth and watch you swallow my seed! Will you suck my
dick until I cum, Sally, and then swallow every drop?" "Oh, yes sir. I love your
penis. I want it in my mouth, I want to taste it, to take your cum down my open
throat, to swallow every drop." Sally was pleading quite willingly now, almost
ready to cry. "Very well then," Bob told her, as he stood up. His cock had
become hard again from humbling poor Sally, and it jutted from his crotch like
the bow sprit of sail boat. "Kneel bitch, but keep your knees spread and your
hands behind your head. Suck me, and swallow my cum. Show me how a slut sucks
the cock of the man who owns her." Sally did as ordered. On her knees now, her
hands still behind her head, she opened her mouth, and leaned forward slightly
to wrap her lips around the head of the horse cock in front of her. For a time
Bob pulled back just enough that her lips could only reach the glans. Then he
began to push and force more and more hard meat into her throat. Of course he
was too big for poor Sally to take all of him, but even as she gagged on him,
more than half his length disappeared into her mouth. To have a lover force his
hard penis down her gullet must have been a new experience for Sally, and she
certainly had never before dealt with one of that size. The Boss was quick to
show disapproval at her failure to swallow him whole. He grabbed her by the hair
and pulled her head forward and back, fucking her mouth and forcing himself even
further into the back of her throat. "Now you do it," he commanded, taking his
hands away. "Bob your head bitch. Masturbate me with your mouth." In her awkward
position, unable to use her hands, it was not a easy assignment, but Sally
struggled to comply. I watched in awe. My wife who had always before hated a
cock in her mouth was frantic in her devotion to this one. Ever bit as amazing
was the stamina of Boss Bob who seemed immune to the friction my cocksucking
wife was applying to his pecker. At long last, however, she began to get to him
and I could see from strain on his face that he was holding back his own orgasm
by the time he pulled his member away from Sally's sucking mouth. "No Please!
give it back to me," Sally protested. "Damn," I thought in amazement, "her mouth
is being raped, and she is even turned on by it." Bob called a time out (I
suspect to allow for his own recovery). He allowed his newly captured slut to
take her arms down for a few moments while he stooped to bend her head back and
kiss her on the lips. Lifting her body to him, he played with her tits and
nibbled with his lips, tongue and teeth upon her nipples. In payment for his
caresses, poor Sally was required to swear again and again that she was his
slut, his whore, his cunt slave to do with as he pleased. At first Sally was
slow and reluctant with her answers. She was still clearly uncomfortable with
the totality of the submission her new lover was demanding of her. Bob was
patient and thorough with his training, however, and gradually, surrender by
surrender, humiliation by humiliation, Sally was able to repeat her sexual
catechism without hesitation. "Again, tell me again. What are you Sally?" "I am
a slut, a whore, a love slave to your cock, Boss Bob!" "And whose slut are you?
Who do you belong to now, Sally?" "I am your slut Boss Bob, your whore! I belong
to you, all of me, my mouth, my cunt, my ass." Convinced that his captive had
mastered her oath of fealty, Bob had her begin his blow job again, but with a
change in the rules. Back on her knees with her fingers again locked behind her
head, she had to open her mouth and let his pecker lay passively on her tongue.
He told her that he wanted his cock to "breathe" as it soaked in her saliva.
Sally's jaws ached from stretching them apart for this weird and humiliating
ritual. When at last Bob tired of that passive caress, he let her close her
mouth, and ordered her to begin sucking him all over again. None of this was
easy for Sally in her required pose of absolute submission, but Sally's desire
to please her new master carried her through. The determined bobbing of her head
jacked her stretched lips forward and back along that imposing rod. Not even
Bob's talented cock could withstand such devotion indefinitely, and the moment
finally came when he shot his wad down my sweet Sally's throat. She swallowed it
with the relish of a Hong Kong whore, and searched for more as she licked and
nibbled on the softening Boss meat that he left in her face to clean. Bob let
Sally off her knees then, brought her back to bed, where he laid her down,
kissed her on the mouth, and pressed her body against his. Suddenly he was a
tender and compassionate lover who praised her for the pleasure she had given
him. Sally absolutely glowed with his kind words. Promising her a reward, he
knelt between spread her legs, and began to eat her pussy. He clearly knew where
all the good spots were. He first ran his tongue around and around her clitoris,
and then down into the slit itself. Up and down, up and down, he licked and kept
licking. Just as Sally began to gasp for air, he put his mustache where it would
tickle her clit while he fucked her crack with rapid and repeated in and out
strokes of his tongue. Maybe I had just never done it the right way, but Sally
had always been embarrassed by cunnilingus, and never seemed to enjoy it. Boy
was she different now! That mustache and tongue fuck were just too much for her.
She came in a string of shattering orgasms, each a little larger than the one
before until at last she simply fainted dead away. Bob held her head in his lap
and stroked her temples until Sally came to. She looked a sweaty disheveled
mess. To all appearances she had just been raped by the whole Polish Army. Bob
told her to go take a shower, fix her face and hair, put on some perfume, and
report back to us still nude. He told her that his balls were still of cum, and
that she must pleasure me again as well because, as he put it, "I had been such
a good sport about all this." Without one word of protest, off to the bathroom
she went, and in less than a quarter hour she was back, beautiful as ever, ready
and eager for more sex. She knelt before us, and begged us for our cocks. No
captive slave of the a Pharaoh beaten into submission with a silver whip ever
pled to be used with more sincerity than did Sally on this evening of her
surrender. "Please fuck me. Both of you, Please fuck me." she begged. "It is all
I am fit for. I am a wanton whore who has begged Boss Bob to fuck me while my
husband watched. I am truly a slut. Let me make it up to you Harry. Fuck me now,
Harry. Let me pleasure you the way I did Boss Bob." Then, almost as an after
thought, Sally explained further, "Please forgive me Harry, but he gave me no
choice. I so needed to be filled with the Boss meat. I had to do what he said.
God help me! I could not do otherwise" She had summed things up pretty well, and
there was no more for me or anyone else to say. I fucked her once more that
night (a third ejaculation and new one day record for me), as did Bob. Bob also
put her through another of those slutty blow jobs. He ended the evening by
making her join first me and then him in the shower where she washed our cocks,
balls, and assholes, and dried us off with her tongue. Just before dawn I went
on to sleep in Sally's and my bed, but Boss Bob bound Sally's arms behind her
back with an old neck tie, and led her off naked to his bedroom by a robe sash
looped around her neck. The next morning I would find her on the floor there,
her arms still tied, but with the rope around her neck replaced by a chain that
was padlocked to the foot of Boss Bob's bed. She said Bob had fucked her one
last time, and then left her to spend the rest of the night on the floor like
that. Bob was obviously not always kind to his sluts.

************************* (To Be Continued)


SEXY SALLY & BOSS BOB (PART TWO)
by Jigs

This is a continuation of the story of Sexy Sally, her husband Harry, and
Harry's Boss, Bob Simpson. The time is the next morning after Boss Bob Simpson
has seduced Sally, Harry's wife and turned her into his submissive slut.

*** I awoke about 11 o'clock the next morning. Bob was already up and gone, but
he had left me a note on my bedroom door. As was his way, Boss Bob had taken
over, and as usual, of all the details had been considered and deftly handled.
"Dear Harry; I called the maid and told her not to come in until two o'clock.
Have Sally up and dressed by that time. The key to her padlock is on my dresser.
Dinner will be sent up from the restaurant at the regular time. The maid will be
in at two. I gave her the day off just as soon as she straightens things up. She
should be gone by four. I'll be back about eight thirty. I suggest that you
enjoy yourself in Sally's cunt this afternoon. I have 'dibbs' on it for this
evening, so tell her I expect her to be naked, wet, and ready for my bed when I
get home. Freshly fucked and sucking your cock would be nice. Sluts thrive on
cock and abuse. See you at eight thirty. Boss Bob" In Bob's bedroom I found
Sally naked on the floor, chained by her neck to a leg of the bed, and her hands
still tied behind her. Her eyes were open, but a little glassy, not yet fully
awake. I opened the padlock on the chain, untied her hands, stood her up, and
hugged her to me before putting her on the bed. She lay there, limp and silent,
while I drew her bath. When the tub was full I helped her to her feet again and
into the warm water. Neither of us had yet spoken the first word to the other by
the time I left the apartment to bring us back sandwiches for lunch. When I
returned, Sally was dressed and siting at the dining room table. The room was
still a mess from the drinking bout the night before. I put the sandwiches out
on the table and she brought in a pot of coffee she had made while I was out. We
sat there, nibbling our sandwiches, but still saying nothing as we faced each
other for the first time since our life together had so suddenly spun out of
control. I was the first to break the silence. "Well, what do we do now?" I
asked. Sally said nothing. She just sat there trembling as if this would all go
away if she could only wake up from this strange dream. I pressed on, however.
"Talk to me damn it, I've got to know what you want. Do you want to go on
fucking Bob Simpson, or do I resign, and we move to Woebegone Nebraska in the
hope I can start a new career there. Can you give up the way we live? Can you
give up that ten inches of hard meat between Boss Bob's legs? It's all up to
you. I love you Sally, so much so that I'll share you with him if that is what
you want; or I can quit and we can both leave Boss Bob Simpson and never see him
again--but you've got to decide. After all, its your pussy that's up for grabs
here. I get to use it either way, so I can go either way. It makes no difference
to me." It took a while, but finally an answer came in a hoarse whisper. "Harry,
I'm so sorry," Sally at last began. "I love you too, or at least I was sure I
did before last night. Last night, tho, his cock was a magic carpet. I rode it
to heights where I have never been before. No, I don't want to start over in
Nebraska, and no, I can't give up being filled with Boss meat." "You see," Sally
continued, "I'm his slut now, his property. Last night when I was on my knees
swearing over and over that he owned my cunt--I wasn't just saying that so he
would pleasure me again then and there. Oh, that was part of it, but there was
nothing momentary about the promises I was making. You were there. You know. He
made things quite
clear..., he will not fuck me unless I surrender myself totally and absolutely.
I did so. I am ready to do so again today, tomorrow, and in all the tomorrows to
come if that's what I must do to have his cock in me." Sally shuddered slightly,
and she was begining to cry. I was hard for her but she went on. "Yes, the
orgasms he gave me I do want to have again. I must have them again. I want him
to fuck me over and over again every day and every night for the rest of my
life. He will do that only if am his slut..., and that is what I have agreed to
be. I can no longer choose for myself. My heart may still belong to you, but my
slut body, my horny cunt, belongs to Bob Simpson now, God help me." I looked
into her eyes filled with tears and struggled for some argument against what she
was telling me. "You know he doesn't love you. Sally. You're just a plaything he
can use to amuse himself with, and you'll never be anything else." I handed her
the note he had left me. "Here, read this." Sally read it, and began to cry
harder. "Not exactly a love letter is it?" she sobbed. "But then I didn't expect
it to be. At the end last night, when he led me away hard fucked and stark naked
with a noose around my neck, I knew it all. I had been captured by a lusty old
pirate with a big dick who was going to make a whore of me. That's all your big
time boss is you know. He's a pirate. In our century we may call him an business
executive, but he's really just an old fashioned buckaneer with a college
education and the same big dick I'll bet Blackbeard had. Its not really
surprising that after a hard days sailing on the Corporate Main that he wants a
captive woman around to entertain him with her body." "So," she continued on,
"When Boss Bob gets home tonight he will indeed find his captive bitch naked
with her pussy wet and ready for him. And yes if you are willing, freshly fucked
and on her knees sucking your cock. As humbling as all that may be, it's a small
price to pay to have him fuck me again; and oh yes, God yes, for him to put his
tongue in my crack again." She began to dry her eyes then and took my hand and
gave it a squeeze. "It's not all bad," she said, "The good news is that you'll
keep your job and make us a lot of money so we can keep on living here. And I'll
have your cock, and your Boss's too, tho I suspect you may get to use my pussy
less than you think. However that may be tho, I'm sure there will be no shortage
of hard-ons for me to service. I've heard that pirates often lend their women to
friends and guests." Our day thereafter went by almost normally. Sally did seem
to be a little quiet, and once or twice I caught her eyes filling with tears
that she would fight back. As evening approached she became more and more lost
inside herself. After dinner I heard her mumbling under her breath, preoccupied
as if she was trying to straighten her mind by vocalizing her thoughts. Around
Six she showered, did her hair, and after she had powdered and perfumed herself,
she came to me, fresh, sweet, and naked from her toilet, and asked me to please
fuck her. She looked absolutely beautiful and delicious, and I was more than
happy to oblige her request. Before I stuck my cock in her, however, I stroked
and petted her for a long time trying to show how much I loved her. I even ate
her pussy. I'm certain she enjoyed that, altho she didn't have quite the same
frantic reaction as she had had to Boss Bob's talented tongue. When I laid her
on her back for a missonary fuck, she suprised me by asking for something else.
"No Harry, I'm a slut now, remember. Please, I want you to take me like the
bitch I am. I want you to tie my hands behind my back and dog fuck me over the
arm of the couch." And, that was the way I took her..., tied with her ass in the
air..., like a bitch. Poor Sally, she was really into this slut thing. The whole
time I was fucking her she was begging me for more, something she has never done
for me before. I'm certain that she came at least three, maybe four, times
before I got off in her. Sally hasn't had a multiple orgasm on my cock since our
honeymoon. When we finished she crawled between my legs, and with her hands
still tied behind her back, she began to orally clean my cock. This was another
first in our married life. Sally had never before taken my cock in her mouth
while it was still wet and soiled with our joint love cum. God, but it was nice.
We were still at it that way, Sally on her knees, her hands tied behind her
back, sucking on my now soft cock, when Bob arrived home.

*** "Now there is a pretty picture," Bob said as he entered the room, "but untie
her now, Harry. Its my turn." When Sally's hands were free, he told her, "Sally,
Go to my dresser, top drawer, and bring me the big black dildo. When she
returned with the plastic penis, Bob took a seat on the sofa with Sally standing
in front of him, her legs spread wide. Bob parted the sensitive lips below her
blond pussy hair and ran two fingers into her slit. They came out wet with her
juices just as he had demanded in his morning note. Satisfied with what he had
found, he fed his two sopping fingers into her mouth. Sally didn't need to be
told she was to suck them clean. "Very good! Excellent!" he said. "Sally you are
indeed a prize slut." With that Bob slid the big black dildo Sally had brough
him into her pussy, driving it home with a single thust. The thing was every bit
as big as Bob's cock and Sally caught her breath abruptly from the shock and
pain of this sudden assualt on her sensitive core. "Hold that in there with your
pussy muscles, slut, but don't get off on it." Bob commanded. With that he
reached into his pocket and brought out a gold anklet with diamonds around the
edge of an ID plate that was inscribed on both sides. On one side it said.,
"Boss Bob's Slut." On the other it said, "Boss Bob's Whore." Bob put it around
Sally's right ankle, and with a pair of pliers from his pocket he destroyed the
catch. As she watched her owner fuse the chain, Sally's blushed a bright red and
I could see her nipples harden. My poor Sally, she may have been humiliated by
the brands of 'Slut' and 'Whore' that were now permantly afixed to her ankle,
but she was equally stimulated by the thought of what they meant. "Go to the
foyer Sally, and bring me the package you will find on the table there," was
Bob's next order, "But be sure you don't let that dildo fall out on the way." It
was not easy for Sally to walk and at the same time hold the artificial cock her
pussy, but by sqeezing her thighs together as much as possible, and taking very
small steps, she somehow managed. Out of the plain brown wrapper she brought
back came a black dog collar an inch and a half wide with big steel rings where
the leather leash that came with it could be attached. Solemnly Bob buckled the
collar around my wife's neck, and clipped the leash to it. "A collar and leash
teach obediance. A woman collared and led naked at the end of a leash has no
choice but to behave herself. Moreover, a collar identifies a woman as a slut,
and a leash hanging between her breasts, bumping against her pussy with her
every step does not allow her to forget what she is. Sometimes a rebelious slut
requires something more drastic, a permanent ring through the foreskin of her
clit. When the slut is roused, a pussy ring will rub against her clit and
stimulate her to her calling. Nothing is more erotic than a naked female led
away to be fucked by a leash clipped to a ring in her pussy. If you ever prove
resistive to me, I will see to it that your pretty pussy gets its ring." "Now my
sexy little whore," Bob asked, "Tell me again that you are my slut" Boss Bob's
demand for submission hung like a sword in the air over Sally's collared neck.
It took Sally a moment or two to gather herself for a reply, and for those few
seconds we all just hung there as if time had stopped. Finally, she began to
speak slowly. "Yes Boss Bob Sir, I am your slut, your whore, for as long as you
will fuck me with your big cock." "You understand," Bob interrupted, "that I
will abuse you at my whim. I will fuck you, and make you suck my cock while
others, even your friends, look on. Indeed I will display you in all manner of
humiliationg ways, naked, and used. Nor will it be only my cock that you must
service. I may give you to strangers, both male and female, who will use you as
if you were a common whore. Are you truly willing to become my slut, no matter
what I may demand of you, no matter how painful, shameful, or perverted?" "Oh
yes Sir," Sally responded, her voice now husky with desire. "Do with your slut
as you please. Display me naked in front of my friends. Make me beg to suck your
cock as they listen, and I will gratefully swallow your cum as they watch. Whip
my breasts for their amusement, and then shove your lovely cock between my poor
tortured tits and jack yourself off there. Then shame me by shooting off on my
face. Put me on my hands and knees and fuck my asshole. And yes, I know there
will be other penises for me to pleasue with my warm wet pussy and mouth." In
the quiet pause that followed her speech, however, Sally went on to ask her
master for two special favors. "Although I know I only a slut, merely a warm
sleave for your cock, I beg that you fuck me often; and oh yes, if I please you,
I beg you to reward me as you did last night with the boon of eating my horny
pussy. "Beyond that." Sally continued, "I ask only that my dear Harry, who I do
truly love, shall continue to be treated fairly and with respect. That I am a
slut is my shame and mine alone. Harry should not suffer because of the fire
that burns between his wife's legs." "Save only for these two small favors, I do
freely acknowlege and agree that henseforth I am Boss Bob's slut and whore." All
this was more eloquence than I would have believed Sally was capable. I
understood now why she had been lost in thought this afternoon, and why she was
talking to herself under her breath. She had not been struggling with her
decision, or mourning our lost life together, as I had thought. She had guessed
that this little scene was coming, and she had been practicing her God damn
acceptance speech. I was a little put out that she had spent our last afternoon
of freedom together that way, but then I thought, damn, what a class act! Bob
stood up from the sofa and said, "Fair enough then, it is time I enjoyed my
slut's horny wet pussy. Take that dildo out of there Sally and put it in your
mouth." With that Boss Bob took his slut by her leash and led her from the room,
horny, naked, and with a big black plastic dildo in her mouth. Sally didn't seem
the least bit reluctant to go with him. Bob, however, hesitated a few seconds
before leaving, as if there was something he wanted to tell me, but was unsure
of just how to say it. After gathering his thoughts for a moment of two, he
finally came out with it "And, ah, oh yes..., Harry. I'm expecting a guest to
arrive in the next half hour or so. I would appreciate it if you would stay up a
few minutes to show my guest to my bedroom. It's a sort of a surprise I have
arranged for Sally." I asked him, "What kind of surprise?" "Well," he answered,
"I don't want to say because its sort of a surprise for you too, altho not
really. I'm sure you probably have guessed at it over the years. Sally, I'm
afraid, isn't going to be too fond of my surprise, but eventually you're going
to enjoy it a lot." Sally was waiting impatiently on her leash without much
interest until Bob said that line about her not likely to be fond of this
surprize. "What..." she started to ask before Bob brought her up short with a
jerk of her leash, and again headed for the hall. Then while still at he door,
he turned and asked, "you will do me that little favor won't you?" I said I
would, and he went on into his room, a naked Sally following him along on her
leather lead like a happy puppy. About twenty minutes or so later the phone
rang. It was the security man in the parking garage range. "Mr. Carr," he said,
"There's a lady down here who says she has an appointment with Mr. Simpson."
"Send her on up Pete," I replied. Five minutes later the door bell rang. I
opened the door and invited Bob's guest to come in. It was Darla MacIntire!

*** Darla, as usual, was gorgeous. Her Red Hair was down around her shoulders.
She was wearing a cocktail dress with a short hemline and an open bosom that
showed a lot of bare tit. Over her shoulder was a small airline carry-on bag,
but the thing I noticed first was a lovely silver collar studded with diamonds
around her neck, something she had never worn in my presence before. "Well, good
evening Darla," I greeted her. "Hello Harry," she replied. "Can we just let it
go at that for now?" Before I could interrupt, she began to esplain. "It's a
long story, Harry, but I think you can figure most of it out for yourself. I'll
give you the details some other time if Boss Bob will let me. For now tho, he is
expecting me, and I had better not be late. Please show me to his bedroom." I
didn't try to answer. I nodded, took her by the arm and escorted her down the
hall and up the stairs to Bob's room. I knocked on the door, and Bob's voice
rang out loudly, "Come in Darla." As she entered, I caught a glimpse of Bob
sitting on the bed with Sally standing in front of him, her legs wide spread,
her fingers locked behind her head again, and that big black dildo sticking out
of her cunt. That was all I had a chance to see. Darla entered quickly and
closed the door behind her. I went on to bed. There seemed nothing else I could
do. I found it hard to get to sleep, and I watched the late shows on television
for a while trying to drop off. Even over the sound from the TV, however, I
could hear an occasional shriek from Bob's room. Then things seemed to quiet
down, and about three thirty I finally dropped off to sleep, my TV still on. I
slept soundly. When I finally awoke, the sun was well up, the TV was off, and
Sally was in bed with me. She already had her lips around my cock. My erection
had begun to grow, and I just lay there pretending to be still asleep while I
enjoyed the moment and the softness of her mouth. I couldn't keep faking it very
long, tho. In just 48 hours Sally had become a much improved cocksucker. I
stopped pretending, grabbed her by the head and began to fuck her face with my
hips. It didn't take her long to finish me. I shot my load into Sally's mouth
and she swallowed like the little whore she has become. Even then she wouldn't
quit. As if cleaning her plate after a tasty meal, she continued suck on me for
whatever I had left. When a woman does that after the man's big wad is gone, her
suction reaches through the penis all the way into his scrotum and balls. Fells
good sometimes, but it hurts some too. Now that I was back in the world,
however, I could see that Sally was hurting a lot worse than I was. Across her
ass and on the back of her upper thighs were a half dozen angry red whelts. When
she rolled away from my cock, I could see two more that cut across her tits
about level with her nipples. I pulled her up into my arms and asked, "what
happened Sally?" "The bastard beat me, that's what happened," she said, choking
a little as the words came out. "He made me stand with my hands behind my head
and a plastic cock in my cunt while he beat my ass with a horse crop. I guess he
didn't hit me as hard as he could, but he hit me damn hard. I've never hurt that
bad before in my whole life, or at least I hadn't until that bitch Darla took
the crop to my nipples." "Darla hit you too?" I gaped. Sally was sobbing so hard
now she could hardly answer, "You bet she did, hard as she could too, but of
course the son of a bitch told her to do it so I guess she didn't have much
choice. If she hadn't hit me, that bastard would have taken the crop back and
used it on her nipples instead." "Well we're making progress anyway," I told
her. "At least by this morning you know he's a bastard." "Oh, Harry," she
sobbed, "I've always known he was a bastard. What's that got to do with
anything?" "Its got a lot to do with it, I replied. "There's more at stake now
than just some big cock for you to tickle your ovaries with. Damn it, fucking
you was one thing, but now he's beating on you with a crop! If you've had
enough, we can pack up and get the hell out of here. You'll never have to let
the bastard hit you again." My wife's crying jag was easing now. "Poor Harry,"
she said as she dried her eyes on the sheet. "You still don't understand do you?
I can't leave. He owns me, or at least that thing between his legs does. Of
course he beat me. He told us both over and over from the very beginning that he
would. Don't you remember. Why did you think he has those whips in his bureau.
I'm a sex slave now, and sooner or later I was going to be beaten. Horny old
pirates always beat the women they capture from the Spanish main, and like I
told you yesterday, he's just another pirate with a big dick. Nothing changed
last night; I was whipped with a horse crop, that's all. I'm exactly the same
slut I was when I was begging like a bitch in heat for him to fuck me, or when I
was on my knees promising to service his cock, and the cocks of any of his
friends. I'm Boss Bob's slut, his whore. It says so on the ID around my ankle,
and it is Boss Bob's right to beat his whore whenever he wants." Sally never
gave me a chance to answer. Before I could get a word in edgewise, she went on,
"But about last night in his room; let me start over at the beginning. I was
sent here with instructions. You have had the blow job I was to give you. Now
I'm supposed to tell you everything that happened to me last night." "It wasn't
much fun, I can tell you that," She began. "As soon as we got to his room he sat
on the bed while I frigged myself with a dildo. He made me keep at it even after
Darla arrived. While I was pumping that thing in and out of my pussy, I had to
beg him over and over to let me suck his cock. I was ashamed to do that with
Darla there. I didn't want her to see me acting like a horny slut, but I
couldn't help myself. I was a horny slut, and groveling for a cock is what horny
sluts do." Sally took a deep breath before continuing. "Darla was wearing a
collar too except that hers was silver and fancy with jewels. After she
stripped, Bob put a leash on her too. At first that made feel a little better
that the bitch wasn't getting any favors. I even ready to gloat when Bob drug
her to her knees by her leash and had her suck him till he was hard, but then I
realized that I was standing there naked, and still pumping that damned plastic
cock in and out of my cunt. I've got to admit tho, it was all very erotic...,a
redheaded slut sucking her master while a blond slut jacked herself off with a
dildo." "Then he told me to lay on the bed, while Darla ate my pussy. I've never
done the lez thing before. I didn't want to do it now, but if Boss Bob wanted to
see a woman lick my pussy, I had to go through with it. I spread my legs and
Darla dived in. I've got to admit she felt pretty good too. She was more gentle
than a guy generally is. She spread the lips of my vagina, and used her tongue
to lick me good. I could have easily cum in her mouth, but as Bob ordered, I
choked it back." "As I lay there trying to hold off my orgasm, Bob came over and
took Darla from between my legs. He rolled her over on her back and told me,
'It's Darla's turn now Sally. Eat her pussy! Suck her good! I want you to get
her ready to fuck me!'" "I didn't want to suck a woman, and I started to cry a
little. Bob said 'stop it! Do as you're told bitch, or you'll spend the night
with your face tied down in her crotch.'" "God knows, I didn't want anything
like that, so I tried, I really tried, Harry, but when I put my mouth on her
pussy the woman smell turned my stomach, and I started to pull away gagging a
little." Sally started to cry hard again. "That really made Boss Bob angry. He
grabbed me by the ankles and drug me to floor at the foot of the bed. He tied my
ankles to the top of footboard, one to each side. That left me laying with most
of my weight on my shoulders and neck while with my legs and hips were suspended
above me. With my legs spread like that, my pussy was wide open and vulnerable.
Bob took an evil looking little whip off his dresser. At its business end was
maybe twenty or so thin strands of nylon." "A Pussy whip was what it was,
Harry," Sally sobbed, "A god damned pussy whip; and he whipped my pussy with it.
I thought I was on fire, it stung so bad. I screamed for mercy, but he just
yelled at me, 'you think Darla's cunt is dirty do you; well if it's so dirty
then we had better have you clean it up. You tell me when you're ready to lick
Darla's crack clean, because unless you do, I'm going to take your cunt lips off
with this whip.'" "I did it then Harry," Sally choked as she tried to explain,
"Darla sat on my face as I lay there with my legs still up in the air, and I
sucked her cunt. I licked her from end to end. I ran my tongue down into her
crack. I spread her folds with my fingers. I found her clit with my lips, and
nibbled on it. I fucked her open gash with my tongue. Then she started to cum,
Harry; She came like a river right in my mouth. She begged me not to stop, and
then she screamed when the really big O hit her. Her thighs closed so hard on my
head, I thought she had ruptured my eardrums. In my very first try, I earned my
certificate as a first class cunt licker." "Bob decided it was time to fuck
Darla. He cut me loose and brought me onto the bed with him. I crawled between
his legs and sucked on him. When he was good and hard he had Darla mount his
cock." "Harry," Sally went on to say, "I've never been so hurt and disappointed
in my life. I wanted desperately for him to fuck me. I had earned it. I had been
a good little slut bitch. I had jacked myself off in front of him. He had
whipped my pussy. I had sucked his girlfriend for him. I was entitled; but God
damn him, did he fuck me? He did not! He shamed me like a common whore, that's
what he did! That bastard made me sit between his knees and slide the cock I had
just sucked into a hard-on into Darla's pussy as she sat down on it." "And this
wasn't just any pussy either, Harry. Darla is one beautiful piece of ass. Her
boobs are bigger than mine, and that red bush around her cunt is something to
behold. She can really suck a cock too. I knelt there and watched her fuck Boss
Bob. She is a good fuck, Harry, a really good fuck. Those long legs of hers
could squeeze the life out of a man. Harry, I'm so afraid that I can't compete
with a sex machine like that head to head, or should I say cunt to cunt." "But I
didn't have much time to dwell on what a sexy bitch Darla was. Boss Bob had a
whole agenda of abuse waiting for me yet." Sally was back to sobbing now, and it
was hard for her to get her story out. "Then I was told to kneel on the floor by
his bed with my wrists crossed behind me, while they fucked. I never wanted
anything as bad as I wanted the boss meat in me right then. As far as Bob was
concerned, however, it was like I wasn't there. His attention was all on that
bitch with the big tits that flopped up and down every time she pumped herself
on and off his rod." "Darla had been riding the Boss's cock for about fifteen
minutes when his cum flooded her cunt. Then.." Sally broke down altogether here,
and for half a minute she couldn't go on. "...Then, he made me clean his cock
with my mouth. As I licked him, I could taste her cunt juice. At that moment, I
even hated his cock, if you can believe that; but...but, God help me, that
wasn't all. Next, he had Darla spread her legs, and then...," Sally hesitated
once more, "then...with strings of his cum leaking from it, that bastard made me
eat her twat!" Sally and I just sat there and looked at each other as she
gathered herself enough to go on with her story. "Afterwards, he had me suck him
hard once more, and I thought for sure that now it would be my turn...but no, as
soon as I had him ready he went right back to fucking that red headed bitch.
This time, he put her on her back with pillows under her hips. He pulled her
knees up, calves to thighs, and knelt between them. Again, I had to take his
cock and direct it into her crack. He then made me rest my head on her belly
with my face between her thighs where I could run my tongue across her clit as
he fucked her. When she began to cum, I couldn't stay there because she was
pumping her hips so. Bob told me to move my mouth up to her boobs. I licked them
good, Harry, just like he said to do; from her ribs up to the nipples, down her
cleavage and underneath, and then back to the peaks where I could suck hard on
her erect nubs." Sally was taking faster now as if she had to get the story over
with. "They fucked for a lot longer this time. It seemed to me that it went on
forever. Darla came, and came, and came. God damn it Harry, that was my cock,
and those were my orgasms, she was getting. She had stolen them from me ...,
that bitch! Finally tho, Boss Bob finished. And once more, he put me on my knees
between Darla's thighs, and made me suck her cunt clean for a second time." "Did
I mention before that she has a ring in the lip of her pussy just like the one
Bob told us about? Well, she does, and a 'Boss Bob's whore' anklet too. I guess
I am not unique. I wonder how many others besides Darla and myself are out
there?" "Anyway, I went to work once more on Darla's crack. I was willing enough
now, and I licked her crack from one end to the other and back. I certainly
didn't want that whip used on my poor pussy again. Darla must have still been
hanging right on the edge because as soon as my tongue slid down her slit, she
went off again right in my face. She calmed down a little after that, and I was
able to finish cleaning the Boss's jism out of her without so nearly drowning in
her female cum as I had before." "When I was finished I was given my Boss's cock
to suck on. By now, I was so grateful to have it at all that I didn't even mind
her taste being on it. After I had sucked on him for a while, Bob raised me up
by my leash and said, 'Well, now its your turn to go to work, Sally.'" "That was
good I thought, but what he had in mind for me wasn't anything like the fucking
I had been waiting for. The two of them sat me in that big wooden chair over in
the corner. My hands were behind me and cuffed to the back of the chair. My legs
were draped over the chair arms, and tied there. My pussy was thrust forward
toward the front of the seat, spread and vulnerable for Boss Bob's next little
game." "He always has some God damn game to humiliate a woman and make her beg."
Sally had stopped crying. Now she seemed almost angry. Gritting her teeth she
went on, "This time he made me tell he and Darla in detail about every cock I
have ever had in my hands, my mouth or my cunt, including all the whens, wheres,
and hows. I had to rate each cock from one to five according to how big it was,
and how much pleasure it had given me. He even made me guess how my lover might
have rated my pussy, and how well I thought he had enjoyed making love to me."
"All the while he was sitting there with Darla in his lap playing with her tits.
If I hesitated at all, or he thought I was holding something back, he would lash
one of my tits, or my pussy, with that little whip of his. It hurt like hell,
and I screamed a lot. I tried to evade his questions as much as I could, but Bob
was too sharp for me. He caught me in every lie, and in every evasion. By the
time it was over I had told him all the humiliating details of all the sex I had
in high school and college, even how I had teased you with my tits and pussy to
trap you into marrying me." At this point Sally actually blushed. "Harry, Bob
said he was going to make me repeat all those dirty stories to you personally.
Please don't let him do that. I can't even tell you how awful it would be for me
standing naked in front of my husband describing all the sex I have had with
other men. I'm not sure I could even do that, no matter how much he beats me.
It's bad enough that Darla-the-bitch knows the smutty dirt about what a slut
bitch in heat I have been in the past, or the awful way I teased the boyfriends
I never let actually fuck me. I couldn't stand for you to know it too." 'Damn,
but I would like to hear all about it tho,' I thought to myself, but I knew she
was sincerely trying to protect me, so I lied to her a little, "I'll do my best
honey. I'll tell Bob I don't want to hear it. If it happens, tho, it happens.
Its not important enough for you to take a whipping over. But whatever, we've
got bigger problems than your past sex life. Now tell me, what about those
whelts on your ass and tits?" Sally shuddered as she thought again of being hit
with the ridding crop. "After he was through shaming me, he had me stand facing
away from him as he sat on the bed. He made me put a dildo in my cunt and
another one in my mouth. I had to lock my fingers behind my head again and stick
my tits out the way he likes to see me. Then he started to talking. "'You are a
selfish jealous bitch Sally,' he told me. 'You have not made Darla feel welcome
in your home. When I asked you to pleasure her, you resisted. When I made you do
so, you resented it. You must learn to do better, and this will be your first
lesson. I am going to whip you with this ridding crop, and every time I hit you,
you are going to tell Darla you are sorry you acted like a bitch, and beg to
make it up to her by doing something nice to some part of her body..., like you
will eat her pussy or something. I am only going to give you six licks with the
crop, but with each one you must get your apology out before I hit you again, or
the one you didn't properly plead to doesn't count toward the six.'" "WHAM! That
god damn crop cut across my butt." "'Darla I'm sorry I was a bitch,'" I said
quickly. "'Please let me suck your pussy.'" "WHAM, he hit me again." ''Darla I'm
sorry I was a bitch,'" I repeated. "'Please let me lick your nipples.'" "WHAM,
it landed the third time." "'Darla I'm sorry I was a bitch. Please let me kiss
your belly.'" "WHAM, it came still again, only this time I hurt so bad I
couldn't think of what I was to say." "'Too bad Sally' I heard Bob say behind me
while I fumbled trying to get words out. 'You lose that one.'" "WHAM, my ass was
on fire, and I screamed, but this time I managed to get it said." "'Darla I'm
sorry I was a bitch. Please let me suck your toes.'" "WHAM, he hit me again, but
as bad as it hurt, and it hurt terribly, I was learning how to beg." "'Darla I'm
sorry I was a bitch. Please.....'" "Well you get the idea. By now I hurt so bad
that I don't really remember what I begged her to let me do." "Whatever it was
it must have been right because Bob quit after seven lashes. My whipping wasn't
over tho." He handed the whip to Darla, and told her 'your turn Darla. I want
you to teach her a lesson. I want you to hit her twice just as hard as you can
across her nipples.' In fairness, Darla went a little pale at that, but he
handed her the whip and threatened her. 'Of course if you don't want to, that's
all right. I'll just give you two across your nipples instead.'" "WHAM, WHAM,
Darla at least didn't make me wait, or give him time to think up something else.
She let me have it quick...but God it hurt. It hurt so bad that I screamed and
passed out. By the time I came to, I was back on the floor cuffed to the end of
the bed like the night before. Bob slept in the bed with Darla, and I could hear
her moan and the springs squeak as he fucked her again and again. They finally
had enough, and I was able to get to sleep until just a little while ago. When I
awoke, Darla was gone. He had me shower and sent me in here to you." Sally was
crying again now. I held her in my arms and tried to comfort her. I asked her if
she knew what was going to happen now, and she just sobbed and shook her head.

************************* (to be Continued)


SEXY SALLY & BOSS BOB BY "JIGS"
Part Three

This is a continuation of the story of Sexy Sally, her husband Harry, and
Harry's Boss, Bob Simpson. The time is the next morning after Sally has spent a
very unpleasant and painful night in Bob Simpson's bed with Bob and Bob's long
time concubine Darla MacIntire.

*** When Sally had pulled herself together, she and I went to the kitchen after
some coffee. There at the table, Bob was washing down a sweet roll with a glass
of milk. "Did you enjoy your wife's recital this morning?" Bob asked me. I was
pissed. I bit my tongue and didn't say anything. Bob was grinning like the
Cheshire cat, he was enjoying Sally's humiliation too much to miss this chance
to rub her nose in it. "After a little encouragement, she did a fine job eating
Darla's pussy. Later in the evening she told us all about the dicks she has
enjoyed having in her mouth and pussy from time to time. Truly a remarkable past
for such a sweet thing. Darla and I enjoyed her story immensely. I trust Sally
appreciates how healthy it is to talk to someone about our little human
peccadilloes. Confession is good for the soul, a cathartic of the conscience, as
it were. I'm sure she will want to repeat the experience for you sometime on an
otherwise dull evening." I couldn't stand how smug he was any longer, and I
snapped back at him in anger. "Look Bob, you've gotten all you possibly could
want. Sally is standing here naked wearing a god damn dog collar and leash, not
to mention an ankle bracelet that identifies her as your slut and whore. You've
fucked her again an again. She has sucked your cock, and your girlfriend's cunt
as well. You've whipped her pussy and tits, and cropped her across the ass and
nipples. She's dead tired. She has had almost no sleep for two days. Enough is
enough! Back off, damn it!" Bob's reaction wasn't at all what I expected.
"You're quite right, Harry. I do push things a little too far sometimes." He
turned then and spoke too my wife. "Sally," he told her, "I want you to go to
back to bed right now and get some rest. Harry and I won't bother you until this
afternoon. Please be ready about three thirty in your best frock. You and I have
some shopping to do. Its Sunday but the big department stores will be open, and
I suspect some of the better jewelry shops as well. Later, I'll take you to
dinner at the Waldorf. I'm going to fuck you when we get home of course, but you
will not be mistreated this evening. I won't even keep you up late, and you can
sleep with me in my bed instead of on the floor." Sally's eyes lit up like a
roman candle. With a smile a mile wide, and hardly able to restrain her glee,
she was gone in a flash. It wasn't more than a moment or two before I heard
water running in our tub as she drew a bath. Bob offered me a sweet roll, along
with his apology. "I'm sorry to preempt your wife, and take her out of your bed
again tonight. I had meant for both of us to use her for our amusement today,
but you're quite right, the poor girl needs some R & R. Still, I'll be horny
again by this evening, and I'm pretty sure that she'd rather have my cock to
pleasure her pussy than yours. Nothing, personal of course, but after all these
years, yours is a probably little old hat as it were." I didn't have enough sand
left to even be mad at the arrogant son of a bitch. My pique had left me when I
saw how happy Sally was with the bone (if you'll pardon the pun), Bob had thrown
her. Why should she be pleased with him? I was the one who went to bat for her,
and made him relent
No, no," I said to Bob wearily. "It's not a problem. I'm damn tired myself. I'll
find myself something to eat and take in a movie or something." "No, I can't
have that," Bob answered. "I won't have you moping around alone, especially on
my account. In fact, your afternoon and evening are already taken care of. Darla
will be here at four o'clock. The Giants are playing the Dallas Cowboys on TV,
and may I suggest a long leisurely blow job while you watch the game? Darla has
been instructed that you are not to sleep alone tonight. She is such a lovely
slut. I'm sure you will enjoy her." I did my best to convince Bob to call Darla
and cancel me off her schedule. I was being very instant about it but Bob, being
Bob, refused to listen. "Look Harry, only a fool would turn down a blow job and
fuck from Darla MacIntire, but since you apparently have something against
getting laid by a beautiful red head, let me sweeten my offer. Darla will not
only fuck you, and suck your bone, she will tell you things about me you have
never known before. She has my permission to give you all the low down about my
women and my sex life. You know that Darla is privy to everything I do, and she
understands me better than anybody. Who else could explain what happened to
Sally, unless it was me, but I will lie to you. Darla won't. You will learn
things about how I live you have never imagined before. You have no idea what
you're missing if you don't fuck her too, but even if you keep prick in your
pants, you will find her visit worth your while." One thing about Bob Simpson.
He always cuts right to the chase. Certainly, uppermost in my mind was this
sudden transformation of the seemingly asexual Boss Bob into a satyr. What did
it mean for Sally and I? I gave in, and told him to send Darla to me if that is
what he wanted. I left him then and went back to bed. I slept the morning away
along side Sally. She was dead to the world, and didn't even know I was there,
but it felt nice somehow. About noon I awoke, showered, shaved, and went to the
short order diner down the street for a hamburger. Rather than sitting around
our apartment watching Sally get ready to go off with Bob, I killed time for a
while in an off track betting parlor. I had lost a hundred bucks, and it was
almost three thirty, before I arrived back at the apartment. Bob and Sally were
just leaving. Her hair was back in one of those bouncy pony tails she wears so
well, and she had on a new dress that showed off her body like a million
dollars. Damn, but she looked good. I went in and turned on the Giant's pregame
show and waited. At ten minutes to four, the phone rang. It was Pete the
security guy down in the garage again. "The same lady that was here last night
is back Mr. Carr. Shall I send her up?" "By all means, Pete," I replied, and
hung up.

**** Shortly the doorbell rang, and there was Darla again. Her dress was
different from last night. She was more casual, and now her hair was combed out
and loose. She wasn't showing as much leg or tit as she had last night, but
damn, she was still one good looking woman. "Hello again, Harry," she greeted
me, "I was told you might be lonely and like some company." "You're a damn liar,
Darla MacIntire, I replied. "Bob didn't tell you I was lonely. He told you to
come here and fuck me." "Well yes," she said smiling, "as a matter of fact
that's all true, but it seemed a little crude of me to open the conversation
that way. Are you disappointed? Would you rather I had said right off that I was
here to give you the piece of ass Bob promised?" "Darla, the way you look," I
told her, "no man could be disappointed, no matter why you are here. I'd say
that you look good enough to eat, except that old saw has a double meaning, one
that is a bit crude under the circumstances." "Let me start us over. Welcome,
Darla, won't you come in." Darla took the seat I offered her, and she came right
to the point. "Do you want me to strip now?" she asked. "Bob said to start you
off with my best head. The Boss likes me nude, leashed, and on my knees when I
suck him off." "No, Darla," I told her, "no offense, but I really don't want a
blow job right now. This fetish thing about collars, leashes, being naked and
all that, is a part of Bob's fantasy, and I'm already tired of it. God help my
stupidity, but I told Bob that I didn't want to screw you this afternoon, or
tonight either. Now that you're here, I must admit that I'm having second
thoughts about my decision, but at this moment, I don't want to even think about
sex. I am certainly in no mood to play the role of a master to your role as a
female sex slave." I could see uncertainty and hurt in her eyes at my refusal. I
didn't want that, so I smiled at her and tried to patch things up with an
alternative. "What I do want is to get out of this apartment. In answer to your
original question, yes I am lonely, and yes I do want some company. Let's go
somewhere, anywhere, where we can just be friends enjoying each other in the
conventional way." Twenty minutes later we were in a horse drawn cab circling
through Central Park. For the first few minutes we sparred with each other,
trying to joke around while we avoided what was really on our minds. Finally
Darla said, "Harry, Let's quit this. You don't really want to swap funny
stories. Bob called me again late this morning and told me you were pissed about
the way Sally jumped on his cock. He asked me to explain the relationship he has
with his women, and why we will do almost anything to have him fuck us. That is
what you really want to talk about isn't it, Harry?" "Of course it is Darla," I
replied, "but I can appreciate what a spot that puts you in. You are not only in
some kind of sexual servitude to him, you are also his trusted employee and
personal confidant. I know Bob Simpson. It may be all right for me to know the
outline and some scattered details, but he doesn't mean for you to tell me
everything. I don't want to push you farther than you can go in good
conscience." Darla was thoughtful for a moment or two saying nothing. Then she
began slowly, "That's all very true, but although Boss Bob may own me, I have no
illusions about him. He is a Son of a Bitch of the first order, and the words,
'good conscience' shouldn't be spoken in the same breath with his name.
Moreover, you're not just the husband of another of his female conquests. You
are my colleague whom I have worked with, and whom I like and trust. You must
have guessed long ago that Bob was fucking me, but you have never once treated
me like the company whore because of it. That's more than I can say for most of
our fellow executives at that God damn corporation." Darla went on, speaking
faster now. "Anyway, you deserve all the truth. This hasn't really been sudden,
you know. You and Sally were lambs for the slaughter from the very beginning.
Oh, you are smart, capable, and efficient but those things were just an
unexpected bonus to Bob. They are not the reason you were hired or even the only
reason for your promotions. Bob Simpson meant to slice your wife from the first
time he saw her. He's just now getting around to cashing in on his investment."
I looked at her incredulously. "You mean to tell me it has taken him ten years
to get around to fucking my wife? The Bob Simpson I know moves a lot faster than
that." "No," Darla replied, "I mean to tell you it took ten years for Sally's
turn to come up. He's a busy man, and there have plenty of others around to
amuse him in the meantime. Besides, you're a pretty talented and valuable guy to
have around and it was prudent not to push something that might have unfortunate
repercussions or otherwise cost him your services. There was plenty of time. Bob
could afford to let his fruit ripen on the tree, but trust me, he has always
meant to eventually get around to fucking your wife." "Anyway, Bob always takes
his time with women. Bob's seduction method is the drip, drip, drip of the
Chinese water torture. Strand by strand he weaves a sensual web from our
feminine desires and imaginations. We don't even realize that we have been
caught until his cock is already in our pussies, and by then it is way too late
to escape. "Before I go any farther tho," Darla continued, there are two things
that you must remember when you deal with Bob from here on out." "First, both he
and Alex Carmine are front men for the Mafioso. Carmine is a high level 'capo'
with one of the New York 'families,' and Bob is his first lieutenant and
consigliere. The company you and I work for has grown too big and successful to
be the convenient little money laundering machine as originally intended, but we
still move illegal funds from time to time. Even when we aren't actually the
funnel for dirty cash, we are the valve that turns the flow on and off through
other pipes. You are dealing with men who have unlimited money and political
power. And the company, big as it is, and rich as it is, is only the tip of the
iceberg." "Second, your phone is tapped, and that is not nearly all. Your
office, and your apartment, and your car, are all full of bugs. Tiny camera
lenses hidden in the pictures on the wall are watching. Bob has a digital
record, vocal & visual, of everything you say or do at work or at home,
including making love to your wife. You have no privacy, and haven't had at any
tine since you came to work the first day. Only in places like this cab ride
would I dare to speak about all this." "Come on," I protested, "Alex Carmine is
one of the biggest names in the business world, and a leading philanthropist.
And to think that my apartment is bugged is simply ridiculous, and hidden
cameras are more so." "Trust me, its all true." Darla replied. "Carmine may
donate to the Cripple Children Fund and the United Way, but that's just part of
the front. In another life he's nothing but a bent nose Sicilian Mustache Pete
who will cut your throat in a heart beat. The 'families' operate differently
now. The muscle-bound hoods who sell dope, book bets, and pimp for the cat
houses and escort services, etc., they are still out there on the streets.
Now-a-days, however, there is a second level of thugs with college educations
and better manners who find a way to deposit criminal profits into what appear
to be legitimate business bank accounts. From there taxes are paid on it just as
if it had originated as lawful profit. The money after taxes is then invested in
legal enterprises and made to grow. The mob learned an important lesson when AL
Capone went to jail for tax evasion. These days the mobsters accept the payment
of taxes as just another kind of bribe. They know that Feds don't really care
what goes on as long as the government gets its cut. The state and local police
and politicians aren't any better, probably worse. More often than not they get
theirs personally and off the top." Darla's face was serious and her jaw set as
she continued her story about the people I have been working for. "And as far as
the cameras in your apartment go, why do you think the company was so willing to
finance such an expensive place for you to live? Sure, you living there made it
easy for Bob to get to Sally, but that was only part of it. 'They' own that damn
building. Installing bugs from one end to the other was both safe and a piece of
cake. Now, I know you're sceptical, but if you still don't believe you are
monitored around the clock, I'll bring you a floppy disk tomorrow with pictures
of Sally with her nose in my cunt." "But, Darla," I protested, "I'm no threat.
Why would they want to bug me?" "Oh, just a lot of reasons," she answered.
'Suppose, for example, you get suspicious about who you really work for. That
would be important for them to know. Then there is Sally, and me, and the
others. He needs to be sure he can control his sluts. The pictures are his
insurance policy. I don't mean he uses them to blackmail his women for sex.
There are too many of us around more than willing to give him all the pussy he
wants without that, and besides, something so stupid might go public." Darla
quit talking for a moment while she took my hand. "No," she continued, "the
pictures are to prove, should it ever be necessary, that your wife is a whore.
Soon he will arrange through an escort service run by his business associates to
have Sally turn a trick or two. The Johns will be legitimate businessmen, who
will sincerely believe they have bought themselves a good looking piece of ass
in the usual way. What they don't know is that their names and addresses, along
with pictures of their cocks in sweet Sally's mouth and cunt, will be in a
digital file inside Boss Bob's computer. Should Sally ever try to turn on Bob,
he has the perfect antidote to blackmail or exposure. It would be the word of a
rich, respected and politically powerful corporate executive against that of a
woman whom he can prove is a whore. Moreover, the legitimate Johns who were set
up will be pulling every string in their political reach trying to hush the
whole thing up. Cute, huh?" "It's more than just cute," I replied. "It's
absolutely unbelievable." "Well, you'd better believe it," Darla continued, "or
you and I will be dead meat on a hook. If anyone in the Boss's organization
finds out I told you all this, they'll kill us both before the sun goes down.
For my sake and your own, you've got to play dumb. You have no choice but to
ignore the bugs and cameras, and go on like you have in the past. Otherwise, the
security people that surround Bob will smell a rat, and our jig will be up. At
the same time, be careful what you say and where you say it" "O.K., then Darla,
Mum's the word," I promised her, "but Sally didn't turn her pussy over to him
because he is Mafia. Neither did you. Tell me, how did that happen?" "That's a
long story, Harry," Darla replied, staring at me seriously, "but before I start,
can we have dinner? I slept away the morning without any breakfast. I didn't
have much sleep last night as I'm sure you know all about by now. As it
happened, I missed lunch as well, and I'm famished. We can eat while I talk."
"Of course," I replied, "I know just the place." A little over an thirty minutes
later we were seated in a hole in the wall Greek restaurant down in the Village
that I regard as my personal gastronomic hideaway. We had both avoided the
subject of Bob Simpson during the main course. We were finishing our meal, and
were working on our deserts, when I asked Darla if she was ready to tell me
more. "There may be a few bugs in here," I assured her, "but they are of the
insect variety rather than electronic." "No matter," Darla said. "I have Bob's
permission for whatever else I have to tell you. Only the knowledge that he,
Carmine, and the company are Mafia fronts, and that they keep almost everybody
under constant surveillance, are dangerous to us. On the other hand, he doesn't
mind at all for you to know about his women. Matter of fact, he's rather proud
of the way we submit to his big cock and let him mistreat us. He has always been
a bit put off that he has so few opportunities to brag to other men about it."
Darla hesitated, and gave me a coy smile. "But, you said you were tired of sex?
Maybe you don't want to hear the dirty stuff about how he seduced me and turned
me into a whore?" I grinned back at her. "Yeah so, after spending an afternoon
smelling you and your perfume, it seems that I'm not as sex weary as I thought I
was." "Well," Darla smiled back at me as she began, "at the time I applied for a
job as Bob's personal girl Friday, my marriage was going into the shit can. My
husband, Sam, drank heavily, but worse than that, he bet money we didn't have on
slow horses and bad basketball teams. He was into the bookies for maybe $45,000
and he owned the IRS $20,000 more. The IRS guy was about to seize my car, and
the bookies were threatening to break his knee cap and maybe mine as well." "I
had loved Sam when I married him, and I wanted our little girl to grow up with a
father, but I couldn't take his drinking and gambling any more. I quit a job I
liked but didn't pay much, and went looking for one that did. I heard on the
grape vine that Bob Simpson needed a new personal assistant. I was determined to
do whatever it took to get that job. If my new boss wanted me to jump into bed
with him, I was more than willing to do so right from the get go. Much to my
surprise, tho, a romp on his couch wasn't a part of Bob's job interview. The
subject of my sexual favors never came up, and without even a hint of a pass at
my body, I was suddenly gainfully employed at a salary beyond my wildest hope."
"With a fat new paycheck every week, I moved out on Sam, filed for divorce,
found a nice apartment for my daughter, Mary Anne, and myself, and began a new
life. I kept waiting for Bob to hit on me but he made no move. I'll tell you one
thing, however, that was the sexiest 'no move' that a woman ever went through."
"Women are always radiating sexual signals. We do so in an attempt to get the
message across to you dumb men that we are available, and we want your
attention. Its not that we are necessarily that slutty or even all that horny.
Sexy signals are simply natural and automatic to us. Often they go out
unconsciously when we are only fantasizing. Sometimes they are more bluntly
erotic than is good for us. Fortunately for our chastity and our reputations,
very few males out there are tuned in to the feminine subliminal network. Most
of you men never hear anything we say unless we shout it directly into your
ear." Darla smiled, enjoying her dig at masculine insensitivity. "There are a
few men, however, who do hear our quiet our whining messages. Their
eavesdropping tells them that we are frustrated, horny, and eager to spread our
legs if the right erect penis happens our way. They answer us in the same quiet
code, assuring us that they have for us the very thing we need so badly. We are
so glad to have a suitor, we can't help but signal back, probably hinting that
we just might be available for sex." "Boss Bob is one such predatory male who
regularly taps into the female party line. Sometime early on I must have sent
out the usual passive signal of a lonely female. I don't know if I expected, or
even wanted, any response. It makes no difference. Bob heard me. His reply was
soft, subtle and reassuring. To a woman alone and horny, the message was
unmistakable. He found me beautiful and desirable. He wanted to fuck me." "You
would never known that by anything he overtly said or did, however," Darla
continued, still smiling. "To the contrary, for three months or so he was
painfully correct and proper. He complemented me often, but he never said
anything out of line. He managed to touch me regularly, but always in a way that
seemed innocent enough. He would take my hand or arm and assist me at a
revolving door, or in and out of a car. Perhaps our legs would brush when we
were caught in tight quarters like that. In a crowded elevator he would be
firmly crushed against my back from thigh to shoulder. His fingers would linger
on my hand or arm when handing me a paper. A favorite was the file on his desk.
It was always where I couldn't see what he was pointing at unless I bent over
him and pressed my breast against his shoulder and cheek." "He would focus
intently on my face when we were taking, and I would become lost in the depth of
those black eyes that were staring into mine. It was so embarrassing. I would
lose track of what he was saying and he would have to repeat it to me. Other
times I would look up and find him staring at me, for no reason. Unlike every
other man I've ever known, however, when I caught him at it, he would not drop
his gaze. He just kept his eyes locked on mine until I would be the one who
looked away, feeling guilty somehow, and blushing a little." Darla paused for a
moment. She had a dreamy look about her as if she was recalling a time she
treasured in spite of herself. "At time went on he began to do things that made
me uncomfortable, but at the same time left me sensually titillated. For
example, there was the way he was always smelling me. Oh, I don't mean he would
come up and sniff my crotch or anything. He was very subtle and casual about it,
but you could see his nostrils flare when he liked my perfume, and he was always
finding ways to be up close with his nose in my hair. One of the sexiest things
a man can do for a woman is to smell her, and to let her know that he is aroused
by her odor. Today, when you said you had been enjoying my smell, my knees
trembled a little. Every other mammal on earth attracts its mate by smell, and
surely we once did too. When was it men and women forgot that and dropped it out
of our courtship?" "So there I was," Darla continued as she finished her desert,
"separated from my husband, living like a nun with my nine year old daughter,
while this hunk of handsome virile male was sniffing around me and sending dirty
messages on a private line to my imagination. To Bob's eyes, the words 'hot to
trot' must have been plainly written across my forehead in big black letters."
"I was hired very late in the spring, and as the leaves turned that fall, Bob
changed gears and began to come on to me openly and directly. His complements
became bolder, goading me to arousal. At first it was nothing dirty really, only
sexy and suggestive. As time went on, tho, the more bawdy he became. He would
wink, and ask me if I had gotten laid during a holiday or over the weekend. One
of the girls in the office was a newlywed. He kidded her that since the wedding
she was walking around with a constant smile on her face. I knew he wasn't
really talking to her. He was talking to me. When she would go back to her desk,
he would leer at me, and tell me that I too needed to find myself a man who
would screw me regularly. He assured me I would be less bitchy if I did. Of
course, we both understood who the man was who could improve my disposition."
The glassy look in Darla's eyes grew more and more intense as she continued to
recalled her experience with Boss Bob. "As time went on, Bob managed more to
find a way to keep me with him almost all the time. More and more often he
touched me, or found an excuse to press against me, all very innocently, of
course, but I knew better. Every time his leg brushed against mine, an electric
shock would hit my clit. My pussy was wet from the time I arrived at work each
day. It got so bad I had to wear a Kotex as a regular thing. It was ridiculous.
Here was a man I had never even kissed; a man who had never indicated in any
direct way that he was attracted to me; a man who had never caressed me, or even
touched me in an overtly sexual way; and I'm walking around leaking juices down
my leg over him." Darla shook her head as if trying to clear it, and then went
on. "It was one Friday evening that it finally happened. Bob and I were working
late at the office, and we had just finished when he came over to where I was
standing by the copy machine, pulled me to him, and kissed me hard on the lips.
His tongue jammed past my teeth deep into my mouth. I could feel the growing
erection that he was pushing hard against my belly." "I reacted like a bitch in
heat. Whatever he wanted of me, I would do. When he told me to strip for him, I
couldn't get my clothes off fast enough. Then he had me undress him. I was in
such a frenzy that I could hardly manage the buttons on his shirt. I went to my
knees to get his pants off and pull his jockey shorts down; and there it was,
all ten inches or so of it, right in front of my face, already partly erect. I
knew what he wanted, and I wanted the same thing. I wrapped my arms around his
thighs and began to suck the head of that huge male thing for all I was worth.
After all these months of sparring, having his hardening penis in my mouth
released all the tension from my gut. The feeling of relief was incredible." "It
is that release that does it for him, Harry, not his dick," Darla said as she
continued. "He picks at us, and picks at us, until we convince ourselves that
sex with him would be the greatest any woman ever had. Sure enough, when he
finally fucks us, it always is. Our anticipation has never failed him..., or
disappointed the woman. Does all this sound familiar, Harry? Isn't this exactly
the same as what he did to poor Sally?" "You really can't blame Sally," Darla
told me. "We females become convinced that without this man's big cock in us,
we'll die. I know because I've been there; on my knees sucking the penis of a
man who had kissed me exactly once, and that was only minutes before; on my
knees starving to be screwed by a man who did not love me, hadn't said he did,
and who wanted my body with nothing offered in exchange but the opportunity to
take ride on his cock ." "What makes a woman crumble like that? Who knows? Is
Bob the evil Rasputin reincarnated? He must be! Who else could know exactly how
to cloud the female mind with such an overwhelming power of suggestion. Over and
over he plants dirty thoughts about his big prick in our heads so that when it
is finally offered to us, it just has to be the best prick in all the world. Bob
has a good one, of course, but it would make no difference if he didn't. For
weeks before my big day, I had been fucking myself over and over with his
imaginary prick. I was addicted to the damn thing long before I ever even saw
it. By the time I had it in my hand, it would have been irresistible to me if it
had only been three inches long." Darla stopped here for quite a long time. It
was as if all this was becoming too painful to go on. We sat there, sipping on
our coffee, neither of us saying anything, until finally she was ready to go on.
"Anyway, there I was on my knees by the copy machine worshipping the penis I had
been lusting after. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so that I was
staring up into his eyes. 'Do you want me to fuck you,' he asked. I didn't
answer. I couldn't see why an answer was necessary. Then it was no longer a
question but a demand, 'If you want me to fuck you, Darla, you must beg me for
it.' Sound familiar to you, Harry? It should. On the tape from the bug in your
bedroom, I heard him work poor Sally in almost the exact same way ." "Well of
course I begged him. To have him fuck me was the only thing in life I did want
right then. In those first moments, the nature of our relationship was
established forever. Whenever I want his cock, I must beg him for it. If I beg
with sufficient passion, he will fuck me. He fucked me twice that first night,
and I begged him for it, long and hard, both times. He ate me once, but only
after I had begged him to do me, of course. I sucked him off once. Of course I
had to beg him to let me do that too." Darla looked as if she was ready to cry,
but she kept on with her story, talking faster now as if to get it all out and
over with. "I was on my knees, a prisoner between his thighs when he explained
my new life to me. He said he owned me, that every hole in my body was his to
use. I said I didn't care! He said he would stick his cock in my mouth, in my
cunt, and up my ass whenever he pleased. I said I didn't care! He said he would
beat me, degrade me, give me to other men and women as a sex toy. I said I
didn't care! We have both kept our word. He has treated me like a common whore.
I haven't cared. He has done all of the humiliating degrading things to me he
said he would, and I haven't cared. You just can't imagine the things I have let
him do to me, Harry! God, he made me stand me naked on a coffee table, showing
my wares as he put it, while he auctioned me off to his hoodlum pals for a night
of fun and games. I still didn't care. He keeps my pussy stuffed, and I just
don't care. I have become such a whore." Telling me all this was obviously
becoming more and more a trauma to Darla. I tried it interrupt and say that I
had heard enough, but Darla wouldn't stop. "No, Harry, I'm not through. You
haven't heard all of it yet. Please let me go on." Taking a deep breath, she
began her story once more. "He made me call off my divorce, and go back to
living with Sam. He said that he couldn't afford to have a mistress from the
office who wasn't on record as a happily married woman. Still, he didn't pull
any punches when he told Sam all about my infidelity and what a slut I had been.
He didn't miss one single dirty detail. Then, just to show off, Bob made me
strip buck ass naked right then and there. I was humiliated, but the bastard had
something even worse in mind for me. He made me crawl on my hands and knees to
between his legs, take his cock out of his fly, and suck him off while my
erstwhile husband watched. I had just swallowed his load when Bob first
suggested to Sam that to be fair he would 'buy me'." Darla's face blushed with
shame as she went on with her story. "Bob was in a generous mood. After some
sham negotiation, he agreed to pay off Sam's debts to the bookies and the IRS.
To sweeten the deal, he agreed that Sam could continue to fuck me whenever Bob
didn't have some other use for my pussy. Since then Bob's hoodlum friends have
given Sam tips on fixed races sufficient to keep him out of serious debt. The
tips are sporadic, tho. The come just often enough to keep Sam only
intermittently solvent. That way Sam is always under pressure to be a good boy
and not make trouble for Bob." That was my market value, Harry," Darla said,
almost in a whisper. "Seventy five thousand dollars, maybe a little more, and a
few insider tips on the races. I refuse to count Sam's occasional use of my
mouth or pussy, as part of the payment. That was thrown in as a seller's bonus
because it didn't really cost the Bob anything, and he enjoyed shaming me like
that. Anyway that was the deal that was made! Sale closed! This red headed whore
had a new owner! It made me mad as hell to listen to them bicker over my price,
but I was not angry with Bob. He didn't need to pay Sam anything, and he knew
it. It was all a game to Bob, one more humiliation that his slut had to live
with. I understood that. No, it was Sam that angered me. He had never 'owned'
me, nor did he have any right to sell me. I'm sure Bob knew that, but the
charade of 'buying me' from my husband tickled his fancy somehow." Tears were
just starting to well up to Darla's eyes now. "Bob wouldn't let the thing end
there tho. It wasn't humbling enough that I had to listen to the two of them
negotiate a price for my cunt while I knelt naked on the floor with Bob's spent
dick in my mouth. Oh, No, Bob just had to put icing on the cake! After the deal
was struck, he insisted that Sam give him a bill of sale for me. The bastard
even had it framed and hung on the wall of his private den. It made a nice
trophy, and it reminds me always that I was purchased like a cow on the cattle
market." Darla's hands were gripping the arms of her chair in frustration as she
continued. "Bob has always kept women around who were willing to be sluts for
his amusement. He may not have a bill of sale for the others like he does for
me, but he treats all of us as his property. He had his hooks into two other
women when he took me over, and he has had four more since. Whenever he becomes
bored with a woman, he may give her to one of his thug business associates just
to be rid of her. However, if she is especially pretty and sexy, he will hold on
to her until some rich hood comes along and offers to take her off his hands for
a price. He may even hold an auction where the poor woman is exhibited nude
before the gangsters he brings in as bidders." "As I told you, I was once the
merchandise in one of his auctions. My 'sale' was only for the evening, but I
didn't know that at the time. Bob thought it was terribly funny that I was so
scared, but for me it was an absolutely horrible experience, made more so
because I know who the buyers are and what they do for a living. Some of these
men operate whore houses, and I suspect that when they buy a cunt, it is for
professional use. I'm afraid to think about it, but I'm afraid Bob will sell me
to a whore house. I may be a slut, but I don't want to end up in a crib as a
professional whore. I'm closing in on forty now Harry. I am surprised that Bob
has kept me around as long as he has, but maybe what I do for him at the office
is more valuable to him than the few bucks he can get for my cunt, at least I
keep hoping so. Here I again tried to interrupt, but Darla would have none of
it. "No, Harry, you can't imagine how evil and cruel Bob Simpson is. There is
more..., may God help me, something a lot worse than turning me into his
submissive slut. Until Sally gave herself to him the other night, Bob's stable
of concubines was down to just two women. Those two were myself and my daughter
Mary Anne." Darla tears had begun to come in a flood, and her distress at what
she was telling me was clearly both extreme and painful. "That's right, Harry,
to keep Bob Simpson's cock pleasuring my pussy, I have even allowed my daughter
to be caught up in his dirt. She had just turned eighteen when Bob's antennae
began to pick up her signals. No female sends louder sex messages than a
teenager, and Bob, as usual, sent all the right answers back. Mary Anne thought
Bob was just the dreamiest man on earth, and I was in no position to tell her
otherwise, at least not without admitting that I was his whore. As things turned
out, I might as well have told her. Mary Anne eventually found out anyway, and
both of us might have been better off if she had known the whole story up
front..., but then, knowing Bob, maybe nothing I could have done would have made
any difference." "Anyway, after a leisurely dose of Bob's usual subtle
courtship, poor Mary Anne was so hot to trot that she was absolutely beside
herself. When Bob was finally ready to make his move he wanted me to give Mary
Anne to him to fuck, altho he put it differently. He wanted "to date her," but
we both knew how that would end up. I refused at first, but he hung me by my
wrists from a ceiling beam, and with my toes just barely touching the floor, he
whipped me.., hard. When he finished, he took me down and fucked me on the
floor. Then he hung me up again and whipped me once more, this time without
fucking me. That was even worse. I gave in." "Bob took Mary Anne to the very
best night clubs, restaurants, and Broadway shows. He wined her, he dined her,
and in less than two weeks he had fucked her. Three weeks later, Bob as usual
had to show off. He brought my daughter home in the wee hours of the morning
naked on the end of a leash, her ass and thighs striped with marks from his
crop. He sat on the couch and while I watched, my sweet little daughter knelt
between that bastard's legs and jacked him off with her tits. He shot his cum on
her face and tits..., and then..., then he made me lick it off her. He finished
the evening by fucking me while Mary Anne licked his balls and my clit." "It was
only a couple of nights later when Bob brought over one of his Mafia hoods, and
they fucked both Mary Anne and myself on the rug of my living room. There we
were, my mouth around a stranger's cock, Mary Anne's tongue in my pussy, and
Bob's cock buried in Mary Anne. Then we switched. I have never been so ashamed
as I was on that night, but there was nothing that I could do about it. Bob
Simpson owned me. It had been years since I first knelt at his feet and begged
him to fuck me, and my lust for that big thing between his legs was as
overwhelming as ever. That's the only excuse I have for laying on my back with
some gangster's prick in me while I licked my own daughter's cunt. May God help
me, how could I be so weak and degraded that I would let him make my darling
Mary Anne into another one of his whores?" "Can we back to your to your place
now, Harry? I want you to fuck me, and then spend the night laying against you,"
Darla asked. And that's where we went.

************************* (To Be Continued)


SEXY SALLY & BOSS BOB BY "JIGS"
Part Four

By the time Darla and I were up the next morning, Sally was already hanging
naked, spread eagled from eye hooks Bob had screwed into the door frame between
the kitchen and the dining room. Around her neck was a wide leather band with a
big steel ring under her chin. Clipped to the ring was a mesh chain leash that
dangled uselessly between her breasts. Sally was moaning quietly from the
humming vibrator Bob was using on her clit while his fingers probed as deep as
they would reach inside her cunt. She looked at Darla and I blankly as if she
didn't really see us. "Good morning kids," said Bob, acknowledging our arrival.
He was also nude and sporting a hard-on. A long peacock feather, and small light
whip with plastic thongs designed to sting without marking its victim, lay
within his easy reach on the floor. Bob was clearly enjoying his morning, but I
dare say Sally was having a lot less fun. Darla's arrival, however, seemed to
distract him. His hands left Sally's pussy switching off the vibrator as he
tuned to frown at Darla. "You're still glowing Darla. Did you enjoy your ride on
his prick that much? You haven't looked that happy lately when you come off my
cock. Perhaps I could use some lessons..., or you could." That last comment I
thought sounded pretty menacing. Darla blushed from head to toe. Nude as she was
(she had assured me that Bob expected her to report to him that way), she did
that very prettily indeed. Her answer was calm and deliberate. "Good morning
Boss Bob. It is true. I have enjoyed Harry's company. Thank you for sending me
to him. I did what I could to entertain him as you instructed. As always, I
serve you as best I can." I was more than a little surprised at the sharp
sarcasm of Darla's reply. It was filled with double entendre that Bob was far to
smart to miss and probably too mean to ignore. Never the less, he did not chose
to make an issue of it right then, altho from his grunt, I knew he was not
pleased. He returned his attention to Sally, restarted the vibrator, inserted it
deep into her pussy, and began to run that long purple feather under Sally's
exposed tits and into her armpits. Sally moaned louder. "Harry," he was taking
to me, "I'm afraid I must report that last night your wife complained like a
jealous bitch about Darla being in your bed. When I filled her mouth with my
cock to shut her up, she continued to be distracted as her mind wandered to
matters other than her task at hand. Jealousy is attractive in a woman to a
point, but Sally must learn not to let it interfere with the way she sucks my
cock. Isn't that so Sally?" Sally responded only with a somewhat louder moan.
"Damn it Sally," Bob yelled at her, and at the same time stung her across the
tits with that plastic whip as he simultaneously ran a finger cruelly into her
cunt, "I asked you a question, and I want an answer." "Yes, yes, Boss Bob Sir.
In the future I will not be a jealous bitch. I will concentrate on your cock."
Sally's reply came quickly under the threat of a second cut from the whip. Bob
then turned to me and said, "I realize its something of an imposition, but as
much as you seem to enjoy Darla perhaps you won't mind. I want you to have sex
with Darla while Sally watches. Darla will certainly be willing and it will test
Sally's sincerity about not being jealous again." Then turning back to Sally he
asked, "You don't mind seeing a beautiful red head with your loving husband's
prick in her mouth do you?" He punctuated his question with a flick of his whip
across Sally's tits. Sally screamed but she understood the essence of what Bob
wanted of her

"Please suck Harry's cock, Darla," Sally echoed her masters demand. "You give
such good head. I know my husband loves having his prick in your mouth, and It
will turn me on to watch..., really it will." Really, I don't mind at all if you
give him a blow job. Then sensing what Bob would next demand of her, she
volunteered, "And..., I want you to fuck him too. Fuck him anytime. I won't be a
jealous bitch, about it I promise." "And after he cums in Darla's cunt, Sally,
what then?" Bob asked. "I'll clean Darla's cunt with my tongue. That's what you
want isn't it..., for me to lick Darla's cunt? I'll do it, I promise. Please...,
Please, Boss Bob, I swear I won't ever again let anything take my mind off your
cock!" Sally just did manage to get her words out over the sobs that were coming
on her now. Bob's only reply was another slash of his whip this time across
Sally's thighs. Sally screamed, and still trying to mollify her master, she
remembered what she had to add to her penitence. "And then I'll lick Harry's
dick clean too. Anything you want Boss Bob, anything. I'll put his cock into her
pussy for him and lick his cock and balls while he fucks her...., but please
don't whip me any more Boss Bob Sir. Take me down, I hurt so bad." "No, Sally,
your going to hang there until Darla has sucked Harry hard, and he has filled
her pussy with cum. Don't worry, your husband loves you. He wouldn't prolong his
pleasure in Darla's lovely mouth and cunt because she feels so good to his
cock..., or would he? Nah, I'm sure he'll try to come as fast as he can so that
I will let you sit down, and you won't have to hurt anymore." Darla could see
how Sally was suffering, and she knew the game Bob was playing. Without a
moments hesitation Darla was on her knees sucking me. As soon as she had me
hard, she pushed me back on the couch, mounted me, and impaled herself over my
cock all the way to my balls with a single downward thrust. Her cunt walls were
pure velvet gripping my dick. Sally's pain be damned. I probably would have held
on to pleasure myself as long as possible if I could have, but Darla simply
would not allow me to play along with Bob's cruel plan. Pumping her hips forward
and back, pinching my prick against her pubic bone, my red headed lovely did all
she could to spare poor Sally by getting my rocks off quickly. Her success was
assured. To my disappointment I emptied my load inside her before I was able to
even give Darla her own orgasm. "Well done Kids. You two make quite a pair," Bob
said as he took Sally down from the door frame. "Now its your turn Sally. Do
Darla's crack first." Sally crawled to where Darla lay on the couch, and
dutifully put her head between Darla's thighs. Bob stood behind Sally allowing
the thongs of the whip to lay on her upturned ass, reminding her to do a good
job. Sally spread the lips of Darla's gash open and ran her tongue in deep.
Darla caught her breath as Sally hit the same tender spot in the vagina wall I
had found last night, and I saw her face tighten as she tried not to orgasm. Bob
would have none of it, however. "God damn it Darla," he spit at her, "if you
don't cum in her face I'm going to hang you upside down in that doorway and take
that red hair right off your pussy with this whip. And you, Sally," he went on,
"you be sure you suck her clean. I'm going to run my own tongue in there when
you finish, and if I find a drop of Harry's sperm, you go back to hanging in the
doorway." The ride on my cock had already pushed Darla to the edge. Sally's
mouth and tongue, working in unison with the Bob's threats, were too much for
her. Suddenly she quivered and clamped her thighs around Sally's head. As
Darla's orgasm passed and her legs relaxed again, Sally redoubled her efforts to
get this business over with. When she could no longer taste me in Darla's pussy,
she fell back on to her haunches and said to Bob, "she's clean now Boss Bob
Sir." "Show me," Bob ordered. Sally spread Darla's slit with her fingers, and
Bob dropped to one knee in order to put his mouth on Darla's sex. As he worked
his tongue up and down, I heard Darla catch her breath, but before she could cum
again, Bob raised his head and said, "Well done Sally. Practice makes perfect!
You did so much better than the other night." I found it hard to believe, but
Sally positively gleamed with delight over her master's words of praise.
Apparently, she had already forgotten her pain of just minutes before. Sally's
face quickly fell into a frown, however, as Bob announced, "As fun as all this
is Kids, the maid will be here in a few minutes, and we had better clean this
act up. Alex Carmine has invited us out to his place in Westchester for an over
night pool party. Sally and I will go in my car, and you two will follow in
Harry's. From what I can see, I don't think Darla will mind at all riding with
her new boy friend. Don't worry about getting packed. All you girls will need is
hair spray and makeup." Bob and Sally left soon thereafter, and Darla and I were
not far behind. It was a warm, Indian summer day, perfect for a leisurely drive.
As we rode along, I asked Darla, "What is Carmine's home like. I've been there a
few times but I've never seen anything but the living and dining rooms." "That's
all most people see," Darla replied, and then elaborated, "The rest of the place
is the most complete sex palace this side of Arabia. There is a huge swimming
pool, and solarium complete with steam rooms, Jacuzzis, and sex aids that would
make a Roman Caesar blush. The beds come equipped with foot boards that convert
into old fashion stocks, as well as straps and chains at each corner to tie your
woman down with. There are lots of mirrors too, even on the ceilings. Carmine
likes incense and it is everywhere. There is a private TV channel that plays
porno movies around the clock." "The servants have all been there for years.
They are extravagantly paid, and they go about their business as if there was
nothing unusual about a naked woman on her knees with her hands tied behind her,
sucking on a man's dick. The place is intensely guarded. Lurking somewhere in
the background, there are big ugly men in business suits with 45's under their
coats. Who's going to be at this pool party, I asked. "'Pool party' my foot,"
Darla snorted, "A roman orgy would be more like it; and who will be there, oh
Bob and Alex certainly. That might be all, or there may be a politician whose
vote the company needs, or perhaps a CEO of from some company we either own or
do a lot of business with. Saundra will be there certainly. Saundra is a real
beauty. Once she was one of Bob's cunt slaves, but now she belongs to Alex.
Before she met Bob, she was a society page debutante who had been into
everything from drugs to communes to religious cults. Boss Bob's special
seduction techniques, and the subsequent taste of his whip, were just what she
needed to turn her life around and find true happiness as a cunt slave. When Bob
tired of her he sold her to Alex for what was rumored to be a record price.
Considering her natural knack for sex and submission, she was probably was worth
it. Carmine is a horny old Sicilian, and pretty well hung himself. He keeps
Sandra well dressed, well fucked and well whipped so she's made the adjustment
from Bob to Alex easily enough. Like all his ex's, tho, she still loves Bob to
come back to her once and while and have his cock in her pussy again." "My
daughter will be there too," Darla went on, "you can bet on that. Boss Bob could
see that my night with you was special for me, and he will punish me for that.
He so enjoys making Mary Anne and I both beg to be fucked by the same cock. I'll
give you odds that if not today, sometime soon, it will be your cock that will
be our bait. Have you ever had a mother and daughter in bed with you at the same
time, Harry?" "No," I answered, but as I did I thought to myself, "but I sure
would like to." Distracted as was by what Bob's plans might be, Darla failed to
notice the horny written across my face. "Oh God, I hate to think of what Bob
will do to humiliate me in front of you. At the least, he will make me slide
your cock into my daughter's pussy, or perhaps he will insist that Mary Anne and
I do the lez thing with you watching." "Damn!" I thought to myself. I liked
Darla and her daughter. I didn't want to degrade or shame them, but an erotic
picture popped into my head of a naked Mary Anne and Darla on their knees
licking at my cock. I had met Mary Anne often over the years, and she had grown
into a lovely woman. He breasts were every bit the equal of her mothers, her
hair a darker auburn, and her features clean and regular. She was tall like her
mother, with legs that seemed to go on forever. I could already feel them
crossed behind my back squeezing my hips. By herself she would be a prize fuck,
and in the same bed with her mother..., well I'm just not gentleman enough, or
decent enough, to turn a chance like that down. As much as I wanted to protect
Darla, if Boss Bob wanted me to fuck she and Mary Anne, I guess I would have to
grin and bear it. What else could I do..., the cheap hypocrite of a pussy hound
that I have recently become (or have been all along without knowing it)? Darla,
however, noticed that I was suddenly lost in thought, and she caught on quick.
"Don't fret about it, Harry," she told me. "It's all right. I know how men are.
You would like to fuck Mary Anne, and to have me there to help will make it even
better. Two women in his bed is every man's fantasy, but a mother and daughter
together something right out of the Arabian Nights. You don't need to feel
guilty about it. Whatever her reasons, Mary Anne chose to surrender herself to
Bob and become his pleasure slut just as I did. We both gave up our right to
decide who fucks us, when, or how. We are cunt slaves, here to pleasure you. We
can deny you nothing, we can begrudge you nothing." "Anyway," Darla continued,
"Bob will try to work on your head too. It was all right for you to enjoy
fucking me. It wasn't all right for you to let me to enjoy it too. It will be
for your benefit that he will be degrading and abusing me, and Mary Anne will
not be his only weapon. Alex Carmine likes to ass fuck a woman, and he is
particularly fond sticking his dick in mine. Bob will see to it you are there
when Alex gives it to me up my rear. Bob will probably fuck my pussy as the same
time, or he may want you to do it. Or, he may give my ass to you after Alex has
stretched it open a bit" Darla paused a moment. I didn't say anything. She
looked at me, blushed a little and then said, "Don't let what Alex does to me
bother you. I will be humiliated to have you see me on my knees begging that old
Sicilian to fuck my ass, but the sad truth is, my passion will be real. I love
for a man to take me there. Sam fucked my rear all the time during our marriage,
and I developed a taste for it. I wanted to ask you to do me there last night,
but I was embarrassed enough to be in your bed as Bob Simpson's whore. I had so
enjoyed our day together. I didn't want to remind you what a slut I am by asking
you to fuck my ass." Darla had given me a lot to think about, and neither of us
said anything more for the next few miles until we reached the freeway exit into
Westchester. Once in town, we spent the next ten minutes or so busy with street
signs and landmarks, and there was no further opportunity to discuss Bob and his
plans before we pulled into his drive. We were greeted there by a butler who
took our bags and had our car moved to a parking area. The butler told us the
others were waiting for us by the swimming pool. We were taken through the
house, out the back door, and into a dressing room at the rear of an elaborate
cabana house. The butler helped me undress and gave me a robe to wear. He also
offered a bathing suit, but discreetly suggested that it would be unnecessary
and even inappropriate. Darla didn't need to be told what was expected of her.
She was already stripped before I had my pants off. She quickly fixed her hair
and make up, added perfume, and put on a leather collar with a leash. We were
then escorted out the front of the cabana to the pool deck where Bob, Alex
Carmine, and a man I didn't know were stretched out on pool lounges sunning
themselves and enjoying their choice of rum punches. All three men wore robes
like mine. Kneeling on cushions beside them, naked except for collars and
leashes like the that Darla had on were Sally, Mary Anne MacIntire, and a small
but beautifully proportioned woman about thirty years old with jet black hair
who I assumed was Carmine's slut, Sandra. "Hi, Kids," Bob sang out with his
usual exuberance, "Darla, you know everyone I think, but Harry, I don't believe
you've met Alex's lovely slave girl, Sandra." As he spoke Sandra rose and came
to kneel at my feet. She handed me the end of her leash, and looking
worshipfully into my eyes said, "I am pleased to meet any friend of my master."
Those black eyes flashed fire as she went on, "I look forward to serving your
cock as my master may command." I stammered trying to reply, uncertain what to
say. For a moment I thought she was going to open my robe and begin to suck me
right there. I couldn't seem to think of anything appropriate to this strange
situation, but while I was stammering a "Well ... er ... yes...," Bob broke in
to help me past my confusion. "Come on Sandra," Bob said, "you embarrass the
man. I know you would like to have his cock in that hungry pussy of yours, but
he's new to this master and slave business, and he doesn't know whether you're
serious or pulling his leg. I'm sure that when the time comes Alex will let him
fuck you. Lucky girl! Darla thinks he is a wonderful piece of ass." With that he
turned to Carmine, and said, "Harry I'm sure you remember meeting Mr. Carmine on
more formal occasions." "I'm sure he does, Bob," Carmine interrupted as he stood
up to shake my hand. "I certainly remember meeting him. He is our financial boy
wonder who has done so well for us. I hope he is happy with our little firm and
feels we have suitably rewarded him for his valuable services." He looked at me
sharply, as if to gauge my reaction to all this, and then continued, "It is hard
to be naked and stand on ceremony at the same time, so while we're having fun
please call me Alex and I will call you Harry. And..., oh yes, not only are you
smart Harry, you have a lovely wife. I'm sure we will all enjoy having her with
us today. I look forward to trading Sandra for her some evening very soon,
assuming you and Bob agree, of course. Both girls might enjoy some strange meat
in their pussies." Darla was right, I thought. He is a horny old bastard. Only
it was hard to tell which he was the most, horny, old, or a bastard. Bob broke
in again, to introduce the third man to me as Senator Hopper from some state out
west and the chairman of an important Senate subcommittee with legislative
jurisdiction over insurance and anti-trust laws. The Senator seemed a little
nervous. I suspect he was unhappy about meeting a stranger in such compromising
circumstances, but I could see from the bulge at the crotch of his robe that he
was otherwise thoroughly enjoying himself. Finally Bob came to the last
introduction..., sarcastically. "I'm sure you know Darla's daughter Mary Anne
too, but she has grown into such a lovely young woman, you might not have
recognized her. In any case, I'm certain you have never seen this much of her
before. Mary Anne now shares my cock with her mother. Isn't that so, Mary Anne?"
Mary Anne blushed from forehead right down to her feet. "Please, Boss Bob,..."
she began to plead with him, but quickly thought the better of it. "No damn it,
Mary Anne," Bob corrected her, "Harry is our guest. Talk to him not to me." "I
don't know what to say to you, Harry," she said as she turned to me. "I am so
embarrassed. In case mother hasn't told you, I am one of Boss Bob's cut slaves
just like she is. As his slut, I must parade myself in the nude like this before
his guests, and have sex with them as well if they want me. I guess that now
will include you too. Please, try to understand, and do not think badly of me. I
do what I must do." The frown came across Bob's face like a thunder cloud. "You
forget girl! What you are, you are by consent. You wanted my cock. My price was
absolute surrender to me as my slave slut. It was a price you willingly agreed
to pay. Neither I nor anyone else has raped you. To the contrary, as I remember
it, you were on your knees at the time swearing to do whatever I wished if only
I would fuck you. It is true is it not that you are here today because were a
common slut with an insatiable itch in your cunt long before your ever met me?"
"Yes Boss Bob Sir, but..." Mary Anne tried to explain, but Bob cut her short.
"Get over here, right now. Bend over and assume the position." Bob was screaming
at the poor girl now as she came quickly to stand sideways in front of him.
Spreading her legs, she bent at the waist to grab her ankles, and presented her
buttocks for punishment. The beating came quick and hard. Four times the ridding
crop landed across her backside, each stroke leaving an angry red whelt to mark
where the pain was. "Now, did I make you a slut?" Bob asked. "No sir, Boss Bob.
I was born a slut. I have always been a slut. I will always be a slut because I
am always so hungry to have a cock in my pussy," came her reply through the
sobs. "Did you not freely choose to be my slave in exchange for my cock?" "Yes
sir, I begged for your cock and I agreed to be your slave, if only you would
fuck me," the poor girl admitted. "Did you not give me your body to me to do
with as I chose?. Did you not understand that as your owner and master it was my
right to demand that you to suck and fuck other men and women as I might chose?"
Bob asked. "Yes sir, I agreed that you owned me, and that I would fuck anyone
you told me to," was the choked answer. "Then is it my fault that you are here
naked to serve me and my guests with one your otherwise worthless holes?" Bob
punctuated his question with one more slash of the crop, this time across the
back of Mary Anne's thighs. Mary Anne winced with pain, but did not reply. Bob
hit her again, and this time she was quick to respond, "No Master, it is not
your fault that I am your slave." "What is a woman who fucks anyone she is told
to?" Bob yelled, drawing his arm back, threatening, but not striking her again.
"She is a whore, Boss Bob sir," came the answer in a shriek. "I am whatever you
say I am, sir. I am your whore sir, a slut who is pleased to be naked in front
of your friends, and to take their cocks into her mouth, her cunt, and her ass.
I won't ever deny it again; but please don't beat me anymore Boss Bob sir."
"Well get on your knees and crawl over to Harry. I want you to lick his cock.
Perhaps it still has the taste of your mother on it. Now, once more bitch, what
is a woman who will suck the flavor off cock that has been in her mother's cunt?
"A slut, sir, a horny bitch of a slut sir," came the reply. "Well then slut, go
do what a horny bitch does," was Bob's next command. Mary Anne came crawling to
me her knees, and looking up, her eyes full of the tears that overflowed down
her cheeks, she pleaded, "Please Harry, allow this whore kiss your cock. I have
been whipped for being a proud bitch. Now I must prove to my master that I have
been humbled. It pleases my master to see me suck the cock that has fucked my
mother. Oh please, Harry, fill my throat so that I will not be beaten again."
Then, before I could answer, she tore open my robe in pure terror, and stuffed
my still soft penis into her mouth until her nose buried itself in my pubic
hair. "That's more like it," Bob said as he came over and took Mary Anne by her
leash and led her away from me. He spoke to her harshly, "That will do for now.
I'm sure Darla has pretty much drained Harry's balls dry last night. Right now
he needs something cool to drink, and his lunch, more than a blow job from some
young slut. Perhaps, Mary Anne, later he will take you to bed and allow you to
pleasure him." With Mary Anne back on her knees beside Senator Hopper, Bob said
to us all, "Well, now that I have partially restored the proper order of things,
lets all enjoy ourselves. Lunch will be served in about thirty minutes, and in
the meantime why doesn't everybody get a fresh drink and take a dip. I do have
one more little chore to do, and I'll take care of that right now." With that he
rose and pointed to Darla, "You, bitch. You come with me. Sally, you get over
there and play with your husband's testicles till I get back." With that he
cuffed Darla's hands behind her back, switched her leash from her collar to her
cunt ring, and led her off by her pussy toward the house.


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