female pimp

CHAPTER THREE: FOLLOWING THE SCRIPT



Story so far:



As told in Chapter One (‘Setting the Scene’), Samantha (‘Sam’) is a personal trainer to a married couple named Laura and Chris. Her training of them quickly develops from athletic to sexual instruction and soon she moves into their home and begins taking over their lives. In Chapter Two (‘Assembling the Cast’), Sam assumes full time control, emptying their bank account, and keeping Chris in strict chastity, while starting Laura out in a lucrative new career.



Sam is only 23, 5’6″, with a hard young body, citron-yellow hair and an elfin-face. Laura is a pretty 27 yr old green eyed brunette with a 34D chest and great legs. Chris is also 27, 6′ 1″ tall, with caramel hair, brown eyes, spectacles and he now wears a steel chastity tube.











Thirty Frequently Asked Questions about the Slut-2-Fuck



Q1. Is Slut-2-Fuck being used against her will?



A1. No. Absolutely not. Slut-2-Fuck is a lifestyle submissive slut. She serves consensually without force or lien.



*** *** ***



Sam smiled down at Chris.



She was sat astride his hips, riding him slowly, studying his brown eyes. They were on the comfy marital bed that Chris had once shared with Laura. His wrists and ankles were tied with soft cord to the four corners of the bed frame. Sam teased herself and him, edging their orgasms, ensuring that only the first couple of inches of his erection poked the soft entrance of her excited cunt.



“Good boy.” She cooed. “Control.”



It had been three weeks since Chris had last cum. His scrotum was tight as a drum. Sam knew there was a point beyond which denial changed from something hot to something unpleasant, even to a chastity bug like Chris. Eventually, it might get easier for him to bear it too, like virtuous monks eventually stop feeling any sexual urges. She didn’t want that.



So it would soon be time to reward his obedience. She felt her own orgasm building nicely. She enjoyed being on top, controlling the action. She leaned down and kissed Chris deeply in his panting mouth.



“Don’t cum yet.” She whispered into his warm breath. “I’m going to. But don’t you dare.”



She smiled down at the blur that was his face, his grimace of concentration, his caramel hair and his handsome features, as her climax washed over her.



“Aaggnnggmmmmmmmmm …..” she howled, loud enough to ensure that Laura would hear the racket in her tiny bedroom down the corridor.



After a break, slowly, she picked up speed again, enjoying her post-orgasmic rush. She took her weight on her outstretched arms so she could speak to Chris.



“Look at me.”



His eyes locked hungrily on hers. He was so desperate.



“Shall we fetch her?” she asked him. “Your slut wife? Who would you prefer to cum inside? Her? Or me?”



He was panting. His eyes wide, mouth open. “Please … you.”



Sam nodded deliberately, giving him a pleasant smirk. “Good boy.”



She raised her hips without warning. He gasped in frustration as his glistening erection jerked in the air below her. But he didn’t say anything or object.



She lowered her lips to his again and kissed him hungrily, smiling.



“I just wanted to make you appreciate how much you want me.”



She took her weight on her left arm and reach down with her right. She manipulated him back into her warm velvety folds and pushed down. He surged up to meet her, as hard as his bonds allowed him, grunting with desire.



“Cum for me.” She murmured. “Fill me up with all that need.”



*** *** ***



Q2. I see that Slut-2-Fuck is married. Is she being used against her husband’s will or without his knowledge?



A2. Again, absolutely not. Slut-2-Fuck’s husband is a lifestyle submissive cuckold. He is fully accepting of her activities. He works in an office during weekdays and is not present during sessions, except by special arrangement.







*** *** ***



Sam soaked in the hot bath and smiled.



Her arm was draped over the rim of the tub, with her elbow propped, so that her hand was an awkward height for Laura to squat over.



Laura was in a thigh-burning crouch, with her damp labia astride Sam’s upturned thumb. She was staring straight ahead, fingers locked behind her head, sliding ever so slowly to and fro on Sam’s digit, gasping with concentration and physical effort.



“Good girl.” Sam cooed. “Control.”



Laura was dressed in her new cliché maid’s uniform. Sam had bought it from a tacky store; a tight white see-through shirt in some dreadful nylon fabric, a shiny black PVC miniskirt, a suspender belt, fishnet stockings and punishment stiletto heels. The skirt had ridden up so that her bald cunt was on display to Sam’s amused gaze.



“How does that feel?”



“G … good.” Laura gasped.



“Don’t cum.” Sam replied. It was Monday morning. Chris had left for the office and she and Laura were home alone. Sam turned the screw.



“He’s a good fuck, Chris. With training anyway.”



Laura’s face and neck flushed an even deeper shade of beetroot.



“Slow down.” Sam smiled. “It excites you, doesn’t it? Me fucking your husband?”



“Yesss.” Laura hissed, grimacing.



“I’m splitting up with Tim. So your hubby can look after me for a while. If and when I need him, that is.”



Laura’s green eyes glanced down. She wasn’t wearing any bra. Her unsupported 34Ds were fully visible under the nasty shirt fabric, her jutting nipples exposing her shame.



“Alright?”



“Mmm.” Laura replied, unable to get the word out.



“Lower.” Sam said, stiffening her thumb while Laura sunk deeper onto it.



Both women’s eyes locked like poker players over a high stakes pot.



“And,” Sam continued, “you can look after Tim. That is, until he finds something better.” There was a long pause. “Alright?”



“Y… yes.” Laura croaked.



Sam pulled her finger away. It glistened with moisture. She sniffed it disapprovingly and put her hand underwater to wash it.



“You are a slut, Laura, aren’t you?”



Laura remained in her uncomfortable, tired squat. “Yes. I am.”



Sam’s tone changed. “If you want me to leave, I will, today. Now.”



Laura looked at her, lips open in shock. “N … no. I don’t …”



There was another silence, as Sam quietly scooped her winnings.



“In which case, it’s time to get to work.”



*** *** ***



Q3. Are monetary tributes payment for sex or services?



A3. Slut-2-Fuck is a lifestyle submissive and tributes are not payment for sex or her services. Your pre-arranged wishes will of course all be considered but tributes are for her time and companionship only. Anything else that occurs is between consenting adults.



*** *** ***



Laura tried not to gag.



She was in a blindfold. It was new, a blackout hood, with just a hole for her mouth and two nostril vents. The hole round her mouth was red-lined.



Sam had put the hood on her before the doorbell rang. A man arrived. Voices. Movement. A distinctive male scent; sweat and cologne.



There were no introductions, no foreplay, no politeness. Straight to the point, as it were. The scraping sound of a zipper.



“No hands.” Sam’s voice instructed. “Just use your mouth.”



Somehow, Laura opened wide and felt this strange penis slide in. She wondered if he was one of the men she’d already serviced. It wasn’t Tim. For sure. Maybe another of them? No. This one seemed new. Yet another new one.



Strong fingers held her head. She knelt and let the man literally fuck her face, trying not to choke. She heard appreciative male moans.



“You need a hand job?” Sam’s voice eventually asked bluntly. It sounded further away, like she’d withdrawn to the corner of the room.



“Nn .. no.” The man grunted.



Without warning, Laura felt a shot of warm fluid coat the back of her throat. She gulped in surprise and swallowed it, just as several more chewy, bitter splashes assaulted her taste buds. The man’s hands gripped her hooded head tightly. She drunk again, somehow forcing it all down her gullet.



Eventually he let her head go. She stayed kneeling, blinking inside the hood, trying to breathe regularly. She heard a zipper and sensed movement. His scent lingered in her nostril holes. Movement. Voices. The front door slammed.



“Eight minutes.” Sam’s voice whispered through the hood into her ear.



Laura stared into the black void, running her tongue over her lower lip, trying to get rid of the tang.



She heard Sam chuckle. “Don’t bother.”



*** *** ***



Q4. Will Slut-2-Fuck benefit financially from any tribute I give for her time and companionship?



A4. No, absolutely not. All tributes are paid to and retained by her Mistress. Slut-2-Fuck receives absolutely nothing. This financial arrangement is entirely consensual between Slut-2-Fuck and her Mistress.



*** *** ***



Sam slid her finger inside Laura’s mouth, prodding her pink tongue.



“Eight minutes.” She repeated. “That’s all it took.”



It wasn’t about the money, of course. Sam had two new £20 notes and a £10 in her pocket. Laura’s first paying punter. Not that she knew it yet.



It was the thrill of exploitation. Sam was going to keep every damned penny she made out of Laura’s prostitution. That’s what made her so hot. Every fucking penny. The whore got nothing. The pimp took the lot.



She looked down at her watch. Laura was kneeling on the rug. She was still dressed in just her transparent white shirt, miniskirt, stockings and heels. Her hood was made of black leather and it was perfect for faceless, nameless sex. The hole round her lips was slightly larger than her mouth, just wide enough for any fat penis to slide through. The edge of the hole was trimmed with red PVC, drawing attention to the lips within.



Laura’s face resembled a dartboard. The outer circle was the red PVC trim and inside was her mouth, a glistening bullseye of waterproof lipstick.



The doorbell chimed. Bang on time.



“Time for number two.”



*** *** ***



Chris did his best to forget about the weight of the Steelwerx inside his underpants. Fortunately, he was so busy he barely had time to think about anything but his work at Lewis Mitchell. His balls were so relieved to have cum with Sam, although his mind already felt horny again. He guessed it would be ages before she allowed him to have another orgasm.



So he focused on the file in front of him. He briefly thought about Laura and what she might be doing right now? It felt strange to admit it, but it was almost as if it was none of his business anymore. His wife. And yet she was Sam’s slave now, just like he was. Damn it. Focus on the file.



*** *** ***



Sam logged into the AdultWork.com website.



The familiar purple graphics filled the screen. She filled in Laura’s password and waited while Slut-2-Fuck’s inbox loaded.



5 new messages!



Slut-2-Fuck’s profile and gallery showed photos taken over the past weeks. Neither Laura nor Chris knew about the site yet. It was Sam’s little secret.



Laura looked good in all 16 shots. The centre of her face had been blurred just enough to make her unrecognisable to anybody who didn’t know her well. But her green eyes, shoulder length hair and fine jaw were all visible. She was there posing, using a vibrator, and sucking and fucking, her model’s legs wrapped round men of different hues, her 34Ds displayed in all their meaty glory.



Four new punters had sent enquiries about booking Laura. Better still, one of today’s had sent a repeat request. That was a good sign. All the best businesses are founded on satisfied customers. Sam smiled at the screen. If Laura could have seen the man who’d fucked her face for 50 quid that morning!



That would be the next stage. Another test.



One punter had asked if there was any age limit. He was 66. Sam winced. She knew that Laura’s own father who’d moved to Australia was only 49.



She tapped the keys in reply. No. ‘There is no upper age limit’.



Sam scrolled down to the rates she had set.



When she’d started as a personal trainer, Sam had learned that pricing is everything. Get it wrong, and you sit at home waiting for the phone to ring. Get it too right, and you bust a gut working ten sessions a day, to make what another trainer can make in six. What’s more, you can only fit in so many sessions a day. It was better to sit at home than to charge too little.



But it was different with Laura. The last thing Sam wanted was to be waiting for the phone to ring, or Laura’s emails to arrive. And she didn’t really care within reason if Laura bust a gut making in ten bookings what another whore earned in six. On the contrary, great value for money would be Slut-2-Fuck’s USP!



Her ‘likes’ were listed as Oral without protection, CIM, Swallow and Fucking with protection.



Sam smirked at the screen and made one small amendment.



She added ‘rimming’ to Laura’s list of likes.



*** *** ***



Q5. Can I tip Slut-2-Fuck for her companionship?



A5. Tipping if you have enjoyed a special time with the slut is of course welcome but not expected. However, all tips must be handed to her Mistress and will be retained by her. Arrival gifts of flowers, chocolates and champagne for her Mistress are also gratefully received. However, the only gifts suitable for Slut-2-Fuck are sex toys and role play costumes agreed in advance with her Mistress.



*** *** ***



That evening, Laura spent on a knife-edge, wondering if Sam would tell Chris everything. Three different men had visited; two in the morning and one that afternoon. Every time she had been hooded and unable to see them.



Sam seemed to be highly amused. She asked how Chris’s day had been and when he replied busy, she’d laughed and said how ‘busy’ theirs had been too.



When Chris said he was full after supper, Sam had turned to Laura and commented she was probably ‘full’ as well.



The innuendo hung in the air but Chris seemed too exhausted to ask them to explain and Sam was clearly happy to let the subject slide.



At 8.30 p.m., Laura was locked in her bedroom like a little schoolgirl.



In the dark, much later, she heard Sam shrieking loudly in orgasm.



*** *** ***



“Don’t worry. I’ll just disappear into the background.”



Sam led the man into the room. He was nervous, embarrassed. She offered him a drink; a beer, Scotch, brandy?



He was smartly dressed in a pin stripe suit, white shirt, silk tie. He was on the heavy side, with a double chin, but otherwise he was stylish and well preserved. He declined her offer of alcohol but asked for a glass of water.



Laura was kneeling in the corner, wearing her hood, and just a black quarter-cup bra and roll up stockings. It was the outfit he’d requested.



“Slut.” Sam said. “Your visitor is here.”



“W … welcome Sir.” Laura whispered into the wall.



“He’s come here for two things. Firstly, you are going to tongue his asshole. You’re going to make a damn good job of it too, because his wife would never do such a thing for him. So make it special.”



Sam smiled across at him reassuringly. She was learning that new punters are often nervous, especially about asking for specific things.



“Then he’s going to fuck you with your legs over his shoulders and your ankles wide. His wife is a little old to manage that position now, even if she wanted to. But that’s what young 27 yr old sluts like you are for. So make that special for him too. Okay?”



There was a potent silence. Laura’s kneeling body was motionless. Her red lips were visible through the ‘o’ of the hood, curling with uncertainty. All decisions and negotiations were Sam’s. She discussed nothing beforehand with Laura.



“Y … yes.” Laura stammered.



Sam turned and gestured that he should take over.



The gent removed his jacket and folded it neatly over the arm of the sofa. He was wearing matching red silk braces and tie. He carefully unlaced his polished leather shoes and eased them off his feet. Then he slipped the braces off his shoulders and unbuttoned his fly, so he could ease down his trousers.



Sam sat down in a shadowy corner of the room as unobtrusively as possible. She watched him unbutton the lower half of his shirt. He was sucking in his stomach unnecessarily. It wasn’t as if Sam was going to object to his belly. He eased his underpants down and she caught a glimpse of his erection.



Finally he spoke to Laura, his voice cracking with excitement.



“H … here, slut.” His finger tilted her chin upwards.



Sam inhaled. She could barely breathe. She had 250 pounds in cash in her pocket. But the money was irrelevant compared with the thrill of power.



The man groaned with pleasure as he reversed his fat bottom onto Laura’s hood. Her young tongue had obviously hit the spot. He turned his own head up to the ceiling in ecstasy and Sam realised he had already forgotten all about her.



She pulled out her digital camera and started filming the action. As they had agreed, she was careful to keep his face out of frame. But she ensured his jowls and neck were visible at the top of the shot, down to his flapping shirt, his big belly and his spindly legs.



His Viagra-fuelled cock jutted out like a young man’s half his age. This video clip would give any doubting punter another taste of Slut-2-Fucks’s awesome potential!



Five minutes later, his second wish was coming true. Laura was on the sofa with her ankles in the air and her heels over his shoulders. He was red-faced, grimacing with effort, energetically fucking her. The only rule was that he was wearing a condom. Aside from that, he could do as he liked.



He didn’t seem bothered about Sam filming him. He seemed almost ridiculously proud of his performance. She realised at moments like this how porno films really need good looking actors for them to be a turn on. But fat sweaty men gritting their teeth as they fuck themselves to orgasm aren’t a pretty sight at all.



She kept the lens focused on Laura’s mouth as he fucked her. That was the shot she needed. She had instructed Laura that just when she felt the punter about to orgasm, she had to please him by pretending to cum herself.



“Yes.” Laura hissed.



“Grrmm …. mmmm …. sssss.” Her guest grunted as he blew his load.



“Aaa … hhh …. hhh … aaaagh.” Laura faked, very convincingly.



*** *** ***



Q6. What services does Slut-2-Fuck provide?



A6. Everything! The kinkier and more outrageous the better. One of the important principles of Slut-2-Fuck’s service is that it should always be as varied and demanding as possible. New faces, new dicks, new experiences and new challenges are an essential part of her training and lifestyle.



*** *** ***



At nine p.m., Chris finished washing the dishes and joined Sam in the living room. She was watching TV, with the sound turned right down.



“Ah.” She smiled at him, beckoning him to stand at a spot next to her. “Here.”



Sam had already locked Laura in her room for the night. He barely got to speak with his wife during the week now. It was strange. He missed her. But he couldn’t deny it was exciting spending time alone with his Mistress.



“Look.”



He did a double-take. On the screen, it was Laura’s face. She was hooded but it was definitely her. Her mouth was open towards the camera.



Sam fiddled with the remote and cranked the volume up high.



“Yes.”



He heard through the speakers. The noises. He could see the grey-haired back of a man’s head. It was moving. He was obviously fucking Laura.



Chris stared at Sam. She was grinning at him wickedly.



Amused.



“Come here.” She said, reaching out to his groin.



He gawped at the screen.



“Grrmm …. mmmm …. sssss.”



He listened to the man’s noisy orgasm as Sam fingered her necklace. She often wore his chastity cage key on a gold chain round her neck.



“It’s made me horny.” She murmured. “Watching your wife.”



He felt his knees tremble. He tore his eyes away from the screen.



“Aaa … hhh …. hhh … aaaagh.”



He listened to his wife’s loud climax seconds after the man’s orgasm. All he could do was smile meekly at Sam.

*** *** ***



Q7. Fucking? Of course (but protected) Anal? Yes (but protected). Oral? Yes (without protection). Deep throat? Yes. Cum in mouth? Always. Facials? Yes Facesitting? Yes .Anal worship and rimming? Yes (encouraged). Foot worship? Yes. Spanking / caning? Yes (limited, mild) Watersports? Yes Hardsports? Yes (limited and always below neck) Vibrators? Yes. Speculum / Medical play? Yes. Enema play? Yes Food play and insertion? Yes. Verbal Humiliation? Yes (unlimited) Nettles? Yes Hot wax? Yes. Hot peppers? Yes Basically, if you can think of it, the Slut can provide it.



*** *** ***



Of course, she made Chris work for his own release.



Sam watched a re-run of Laura rimming the old guy while Chris licked her own, rather nicer bottom. Occasionally, she froze the action to send a 10 x 8 inch colour glossy to the printer. And to get Chris to turn his head a second so she could point it out to him.



“Look.” She cooed. “You can really sense the guy’s having a great time, can’t you?”



She studied the mixture of emotions on Chris’s face.



“Yeah.”



She reached out and ran her toe along the underside of his firm shaft. He was kneeling by her feet.



“Don’t be jealous.” She warned. “Or do you want to go back to your boring, vanilla Mr and Mrs Dull life again?”



His brown eyes dropped to the floor.



“N … no.”



She put her finger under his chin and turned his face to hers.



“Don’t worry. Your wife isn’t doing anything she doesn’t want to. And nor are you. Nor is any one of us.”



He nodded, the twinge of guilt extinguished from his eyes. All she could see now in them was his submission and desperation.



Sam lay back into the same sofa that featured in the movie. She spread her legs as wide as she could, her ankles straddling the arms of the sofa, so that Chris’s tongue could get right up her poop chute while his nose nudged her clit.



She kept up a running commentary for his benefit. It wasn’t a hot movie in the conventional sense. The lighting was shadowy, the camera angle was poor. Most of all, the male star was plump, perspiring and his face was puckered with exertion. But to Sam it was the most erotic porn she’d ever watched.



“I love this bit. I could watch it over and over. Oh Chris. Mmm.”



The close up of Laura’s mouth as they both came was the best moment. Her smudged red lipstick, her pearly white teeth, gasping in fake orgasm. “Yessss.”



Sam tugged his hair to drag his nose a couple of inches inside her vagina. She pushed the tip to her G-spot and felt her body explode into molten liquid.



“Aaa … hhh …. hhh … aaaagh.”



*** *** ***



“It’s the chair leg, or not at all.”



Chris shut his eyes. He had just given Sam the biggest orgasm he’d ever given any woman in his life. She had gushed a geyser all over his face. The clear sticky fluid still covered his hair, cheeks and chin.



And now she was telling him to hump a piece of wood.



But he was desperate to cum. He never knew when the next opportunity might be. Sometimes it was only a few days, other times it was weeks.



“Thank you, Ma’am.”



He took up a position like a dog cocking its leg, and rubbed his erection against the wooden leg of the chair. It was awkward, and humiliating, but it felt good to be touching his cock against something. He chafed it again.



“Hurry up.”



Sam was still lying on the sofa naked watching him. She was on her side, with her head propped up on a cushion. She looked like some kind of feline animal, a lioness perhaps. Her yellow hair was spiky. Her new boobs stuck out like those of a pneumatic porn star.



He humped the hard wood again. Slowly, he built up an embarrassed rhythm.



Was this better than nothing?



He gritted his teeth. It seemed so unjust. He’d given her something really special and this was his reward.



The doorbell rang.



He glanced at Sam. She seemed as surprised as he was.



“Ignore it.” She said. “It’ll go away. Carry on.”



He resumed his self conscious tempo.



It rang again.



She got up, naked. “Don’t stop. And no using your hands.”



He heard her calling out through the letter box. “Who is it?”



A male voice. Murmurs. Laughter. The sliding chain. Door opening.



“It’s okay.” She said, walking back into the room. “It’s only Tim.”



Chris crouched frozen in position, like a deer in headlights.



“Carry on.” Sam snapped impatiently, sitting back down on the sofa. Tim entered, wobbling slightly, obviously slightly the worse for alcohol.



Dying with shame, Chris rocked against the chair leg, bouncing his throbbing shaft into the hard surface.



Could he really cum like this?



“Fuck me!” Tim laughed, slumping down on the sofa next to Sam.



He did his best to ignore them, masturbating himself with timber.



“No.” Sam said sharply, pawing Tim away. Her drunken friend had obviously come round after failing to pull anyone at the pub.



“Come on.” Tim slurred.



“You know what I said.” Sam replied. “Go upstairs. You can fuck the slut.”



Chris gasped. He was going to cum. Somehow. He jerked so that he could get a slightly better angle against the chair leg.



He heard Tim staggering up off the sofa. “Alright then.” His voice sounded unimpressed, like he’d just been told to use an outside toilet.



“What are you looking at, wimp?”



Chris snatched his eyes away and humped the leg as hard as he could.



Sam chuckled and pushed Tim towards the staircase.



“Her door is locked. The key’s on the ledge. Have fun.”



Chris heard Tim’s uneven steps start mounting the stairs.



“And if you fuck her ass, use a condom!” Sam shouted after him.



She sighed at Chris with irritation . “You’ve got thirty seconds.”



Somehow, someway, he got enough friction to trigger his orgasm. He shuddered as his cock pulsed and released a single squirt of semen over the chair leg and floor. He whimpered and tried to rub again so he could get some follow through. But he failed and his dick just skipped about in the air unsatisfied.



“That looks fun.” Sam commented dryly. “Now. Stay there. Don’t move.”



Chris was still frozen in the same position fifteen minutes later when Sam pushed Tim out of the front door into the night. There was a small puddle of semen under Chris that had oozed very slowly out of his now flaccid dick.



Meanwhile, it was clear from their brief conversation that Tim had taken up the invite to fuck Laura’s bottom and, as he was leaving, he draped the used condom across Chris’s hunched, naked back.



“Okay.” Sam said, after locking the front door. “Get your head down and lick up that mess you made.”



*** *** ***



Q8. Are there any limits on Slut-2-Fuck’s use?



A8. Slut-2-Fuck is being trained to accept sexual use with virtually no limits (within the law). However, Slut-2-Fuck is not a painslut and only modest amounts of physical punishment are allowed. Her Mistress’s decision is always final. Mistress is open to all your suggestions. Please email or message your requirements or ideas.



*** *** ***



“How many different men do you think you’ve fucked now?”



Several weeks had passed. Sam was thrilled with progress. Laura was on all fours scrubbing the floor with a nail brush and soapy water. She was dressed in punishment high heels, fishnets, suspender belt and a PVC apron.



“Twenty five?” Laura replied, after a moment’s embarrassed hesitation.



Sam nodded nonchalantly, looking back at the screen. She didn’t even know herself, though she could probably work it out. Twenty five sounded low. The thing was Laura had been blindfolded for many of them, so she didn’t know how many were repeat customers and how many had been new ones.



But now things had moved on and nowadays Laura mostly got to see the faces and bodies of her visitors. She had even been allowed to look at her own Adult Work profile and the new photographs that featured her. Full face, no photoshop or blurring. She had even seen her own pricelist and the extensive array of services she was now prepared to provide.



However, Sam completely controlled her account. Laura didn’t even know her own password. All negotiations and discussions were handled solely by Sam. And all payments – or ‘tributes’ as they were labelled – were handed over to Sam, in cash, on arrival.



“I doubt it’s that many.” Sam replied a minute or so later. “Really?”



Laura kept scouring the floor. “I think so. Maybe more.”



“Phew. You could be right. Fuck, that’s quite a few in such a short time.”



“Yes, Ma’am.”



“To think you’d only fucked Chris when I met you.”



Laura nodded. Sam knew there wasn’t much she could say.



“Chris could divorce you for infidelity, you know?”



Laura’s green eyes widened in shock.



Sam laughed. “Only joking. And after all, he’s been fucking me too.”



Barely a day went by when Slut-2-Fuck didn’t generate several hundred pounds or more. Her budding reputation in the punter community and her proximity to London, with its 10 million-plus population, provided a huge market. But men from a radius of over 200 miles had already made the journey to try her out. Guys loved the kink-factor provided by Sam’s presence and the fact that Laura had a dominant female pimp.



Twice a day, Sam checked Laura’s in-box. Of course, there were timewasters and she was selective about bookings to accept. She used the ratings of punters to check them out and developed a nose for the really weird and wacky ones.



“Oh that’s fun.” Sam giggled one morning.



The inevitable had happened. Somebody who knew Laura had stumbled across her profile. Well, actually, he knew Chris, but he’d met Laura too. He’d even been to their wedding eight years earlier.



His name was Steve and he wanted to book her!



After an interesting exchange of messages, Sam arranged to meet Steve in a coffee shop. He lived about half an hour’s drive away. She liked the sound of him and knew that he offered a special opportunity to ramp things up another notch. Of course, at this stage, Laura knew nothing about him.



Steve was everything she’d hoped. He looked even better than he sounded. Handsome, 28 yrs old, muscled. He bought them both cappuccinos and they sat at a quiet corner table.



“So.” She said to him. “Nice to put a face to the name.”



He grinned. “Equally.”



“And such a nice face.” She flirted.



He blushed. “I’ve never done this before you know. I was just surfing.”



“Sure.”



His eyes were brown, like Chris’s. But the similarities stopped there. Whereas Chris was handsome, a cute Clark Kent with caramel hair, Steve looked hard, dark and faintly villainous. He was quirky good looking, not Hollywood poster boy.



“You’ve known Chris since you were seven?”



He nodded. “First day together at school.”



“And he’s a good mate?”



“Yeah. Used to be. One of the best.”



“But you still want to fuck his wife?”



“Abso-fucking-lutely!”



Sam arched an eyebrow at his frankness. She smiled into his deadpan brown eyes. “Because she’s a babe?”



He shook his head. “Not just that.”



She waited while he paused. He was wearing a nice shirt, a jacket and jeans. Tastefully but not expensively dressed. His teeth were nice and white.



“Look.” He continued. “I like Chris. And that will make it better for me. I remember when they met. He was so besotted with Laura. We were young and all of us wanted him to just fuck her and move on. But he married her instead.”



He sipped his coffee, peering at her over the top of his cup.



“I rarely see him nowadays. And now I know why!”



Sam blew on the froth to cool her own cappuccino.



“You don’t know the half of it yet!” She smiled encouragingly. “Will Chris hate it if you fuck Laura?”



“I expect so.” Steve shrugged. “But then, it sounds like he’s into that.”



“What do you do?”



“Me? Job-wise?” Steve made a face. “Not much. I’m afraid that me and the word career don’t belong in the same sentence. I do a bit of this and that.”



Sam waved her hand dismissively. “I’m the same. Do you have money to pay?”



Steve tapped his jacket pocket. “Enough for an hour with Laura.”



She winked at him. “No. I’ve got a better idea.”



*** *** ***



Q9. Is oral sex always without condoms?



A9. Yes, always. For your pleasure, Slut-2-Fuck is not permitted the use of condoms for oral sex. Provided you are clean, she will suck any visitor to completion, gargle and swallow. If you prefer to use a condom yourself, that’s fine, in which case she will drink the contents after you have used it. It is an important principle of her training that, before her retirement, Slut-2-Fuck will have tasted and swallowed as much different semen as possible. Condoms however are required for all penetrative acts in her other holes.



*** *** ***



In many ways, Laura preferred being blindfolded. She could focus on her feelings, her fantasies, and almost pretend it wasn’t real. And most of the men that Sam hooked her up with weren’t exactly oil paintings.



“You have a nice young visitor today.” Sam’s voice said.



Laura knelt on the rug unable to see. She was hooded and dressed in just a quarter-cup bra and a thong. The bra was only a C-cup and her tits spilled out of it. The thong was a size too small as well and the back of it dug deep into her ass crack.



“He’ll start with one of your best blowjobs.”



Laura reached out blind, fumbled skilfully with his belt and zip. She’d done this quite a few times now, undressing a man in the dark.



“Mmm.” His deep voice murmured. “Lick my balls, Laura.”



Most men didn’t use her real name. A few did. But most called her slut and other rude names like whore, bitch and cunt. Some didn’t speak to her at all.



She licked his heavy sac, tasting salt where his thigh met his scrotum.



“Your mistress tells me you’re married, Laura?”



“Mmm.” She replied.



“His name is Chris?”



“Mmm.”



His fingers were on the hood, directing her mouth. She felt him turning round.



“Lick my asshole, Laura.”



Why did so many men want their arses kissed? She slipped her tongue in between his cheeks. At least he tasted dry. Some were moist or worse.



“Do you lick Chris’s asshole?”



“Nnggo.” She replied.



Again, why did some men fixate on the fact she was married?



Laura heard Sam’s voice from the corner of the room, where she usually sat.



“Deeper.”



She pushed her face further into the man’s behind and stuck out her tongue.



*** *** ***



“Hello Mum.”



Chris answered his mobile quietly. He’d seen from the screen it was her. Personal calls at work weren’t allowed except for emergencies.



“What do you want mum, I’m at the office.”



His parents were separated. His dad had run off with a woman even older than his mum. Why would you do that? Leave home for a saggy-titted neighbour with four kids? Chris could understand it more if his loser dad had left them to shack up with some tight-pussied babe in her twenties.



“I want to see you.”



His mum lived on her own in a cottage 250 miles away. She was lonely. Chris felt guilty. He and Laura hadn’t visited her since … well, since Sam.



“Yeah. Sorry mum. I’ve been busy. We’ll come down soon.”



She seemed grateful for that. They talked a bit more.



“And how’s Laura?”



He glanced round the office. His boss was watching him.



“She’s okay too, mum.”



“And she’s busy?”



“Yeah, mum. She’s super busy.”



*** *** ***



Sam adjusted the view to zoom in a little.



She wanted Steve’s face in the shot. Close up.



Unmistakeable.



He was fucking Laura in the doggy position on the floor. In, out. In, out. Pounding into her like a Rottweiler slamming its bitch. He had tugged off her bra and her tits were hanging down under her, rocking and rolling.



She had two cameras going. She had spent a little of her growing stash on a new digital and tripod. It was mounted behind Steve’s muscular butt, low down at an angle so his balls were in shot. It had recorded the moment of penetration. She’d made an exception and Steve wasn’t wearing protection. Condoms didn’t fit with Sam’s plans!



She had mixed feelings. Everything was going perfectly. But a small part of her was envious. She hadn’t fancied any guy in ages like she did Steve. And here she was watching him fuck another woman.



At least he was clean. He’d taken one of those quickie STD tests and come up fine. And she’d noticed his dick was a whopper. She couldn’t help but admire his stamina and technique too.



Laura wasn’t faking it this time. She shrieked in a noisy climax.



He glanced over at Sam and smiled. Then Steve winked at the camera lens.



“Oh Laura.” He grunted, slamming hard into her. “And Chris.”



Sam couldn’t help clenching her fist in triumph. She could only imagine what this would do to Laura and especially Chris. True humility is learned by degrees. Watching somebody you’ve known for twenty years, man and boy, fuck your woman, requires you to develop genuine humbleness. A boy you sat next to in class, played sport with, drank and puffed cigarettes with, competed with growing up, and now he’s blowing his load in your wife’s cunt.



Sam watched Steve raise his head and shudder in conquest.



*** *** ***



Q10. How ‘clean’ do I have to be?



A10. Well, you do not have to bathe immediately before a session! On the contrary, Slut-2-Fuck is required to be considerably less fussy than a woman you might meet in a pub or club. Nevertheless, if only as a courtesy to other users of her mouth, penises should be disease-free and washed under foreskins. Bottoms must be wiped. The Mistress requires that you do not smell. Toilet facilities are available. Full bathroom and shower facilities may only be used with prior arrangement.



*** *** ***



The unsigned property deeds and mortgage documents lay on the table.



Instead of everything being 50:50, as they had been when Laura worked, the house and mortgage would soon be 100 per cent in Chris’s name. The new arrangement assigned Laura’s individual half share of their net worth over to him permanently.



Of course, she would still be his wife so not much would change really.



Sam was leaning over the new punter’s shoulder as he dabbed Tabasco sauce onto Laura’s clit. She howled in anguish and tried to get up, slamming her spine back on the mattress in frustration trying to disperse the searing sting.



“Wow!” Sam said, admiringly.



Joe grinned. He was into Bdsm play. He had made a 300-mile day trip to ‘play’ with Slut-2-Fuck. Not many tarts accept a spicing with hot sauce.



He tilted the bottle again and drizzled some red drops onto the bottle neck. Then he pushed the top of the small red bottle into Laura’s puckered anus.



It was fascinating. She bucked and hissed and would have hollered the house down if it weren’t for the bright red ball strapped in her mouth. Instead, all she could manage was indignant mewling and frothing into the gag.



Next Joe produced a thick red candle from his suitcase. He looked like a travelling salesman; ordinary-looking, middle aged, nondescript. His name wasn’t really Joe as far as she knew, but that’s what she thought of him as. It amazed Sam how such average looking Joes could hide such kinky minds.



He took a cigarette lighter from his pocket and lit the wick. He had pre-agreed with Sam that he’d use a paraffin pillar candle that burned hot, but not too hot. Laura could see the flickering flame and she was hopping mad, wide eyed and dripping with perspiration.



The ‘scene’ they were playing was a torture role-play. The punter and Sam were persuading Laura to confess. All she had to do to end the session was to sign her admission of guilt, whenever she couldn’t take any more.



Like a safe word.



“Be a brave girl.” Sam encouraged.



He waited until the wax was liquid, then reached out and tipped a red blob onto Laura’s stomach from three foot above her. It landed like a cherry tomato hitting concrete, splattered and set instantaneously onto her skin.



Laura hissed into the gag, her expression betraying relief it wasn’t hotter.

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