One Week of Slut Pt. 01: Prologue

PROLOGUE

The following series of events follows directly on from my 'Staid Wife' and 'Corporate Fuck Toy' series and can be read in conjunction with them or as standalone tale, the choice is entirely yours.

A very brief synopsis is that my husband Paul and I have tired of our vanilla marriage and have decided to explore a Dom/Sub relationship where he is in full control of our marriage. This has led us into numerous sexual adventures detailed in the previously mentioned series.

For context, I am Natalie, a successful business woman and Senior Executive of a company. I am 36, I have long straight, jet black hair, 5' 7, slim figure and full 36C breasts. I dress professionally at all times in work, skirt suits, high heels, fairly straight laced but feminine, professional and always well presented.

Men compliment me on my looks, I get most compliments about my long legs which I'm quite proud of and general, I look after myself and keep myself in good shape.

PREPARING FOR A WEEK AS A SLUT TO NICK

As I indicated at the end of my account of being used in a hotel by my husband Paul, and his business client, Nick at a weekend conference, Nick had then sent me a text on my way home indicating that he wanted my 'services' for a full week.

Of course, he still thought me to be a worker in an escort agency (obviously one that did plenty of 'extras'!) but at the same time he had all too readily seen my abandoned excitement at the treatment he and my hubby had dished out and, in his own typical arrogance, informed me that I should be paying him for the week not the other way around.

Paul and I had a lot to talk about as we got home that Sunday Evening. We were both wholeheartedly embracing the 'slut wife' narrative that we'd both found so intoxicating and we both agreed that this was the way we had to continue; I couldn't countenance returning to a vanilla lifestyle of a quick fumble and an unfulfilling, routine hump by him and he didn't want that either.

This lifestyle gave us both the knee trembling, head-spinning passion we both craved. My concern with where we were heading wasn't so much with me though, it was him.

I had experienced shame, humiliation and essentially, servitude at the hands of my husband, 4 fairly random men, and my own friend, Fiona, all in the space of just a few weeks yet I was truly happy with it, even feeling as though I was learning about my sexuality that I had repressed for these past 10 years and determined to ride it out and see where it took me, perhaps even gain some understanding of why the need for humiliation seemed to be wired inside me.

This cocktail of depravity, being so out of control and at the mercy of random people made me feel so energised and alive with the danger and the wickedness of it all and I wanted more. Paul wanted more of it too; it's not difficult to imagine a man being happy in a domestic situation where his wife agrees to do anything he asks, sexually or domestically and actively wants her husband to take a firm hand with her and tell her how it's going to be. Domestically and between ourselves, we were sorted, stable and happy.

Problem was though, the whole 'cuckold' thing. I recalled the Saturday in the hotel when I had tossed Paul off as I recounted to him how Nick had used me, or how turned on he had been when he saw the video of me blowing the hotel room service guy, or how excited he got when he heard me tell him how much I enjoyed the size of Nick's cock. I'd never seen Paul come harder than he did that day. That was fine in and of itself but it left significant questions unanswered.

The main thing I dreaded was Paul becoming a 'cuckold'. Let me clarify, as he had now watched others use me and had enjoyed it, technically he already was a cuckold but as part of our research, we had read a lot of erotic stories on literotica and knew all about the whole 'cuckold thing'. Whilst I found some stories intriguing, We've always been clear that I am the one who has to be humiliated, not Paul.

I want him to be in control, not passive, and certainly not a cuckold in the sense of being humiliated by a 'bull' or even being made to join in pleasuring him. As far as I was concerned this was definitely not the direction I wanted us to go in, I didn't want to be married to a 'wimp', quite the opposite.

Luckily, Paul shared this view completely. In a 'deep and meaningful' we had that very night, he told me he simply found the sight of me being a complete slut unbelievably arousing. He admitted he tended to go quite passive when others were using me, but only because he had voyeuristic tendencies and loved to see me pushing boundaries of my own self-induced slut-dom with others. When it was happening he said, he just wanted to watch and take it all in and sometimes forgot that he was supposed to be using me too!

What reassured me was that he clarified he wanted to continue to use me and treat me as a whore wife himself and wanted to remain in full control over what happened to me and who with. I was relieved at this. My husband was a voyeur but not a cuckold wimp. He wanted to see me submit to him and to others but had no intention of submitting to anyone himself. Relief coursed through me and I felt content that we could continue this journey.

As I washed and got into our bed that night, my mind drifted back to earlier and to Nick and his massive cock, and how he seemed to press all the right buttons that sent me so easily into slut over-drive. I re-read the message on my phone and as I did, the throb of my pussy and flutter in my stomach indicated that I really did want to take him up on the offer of a week in his 'service' but I knew it would be a step too far.

Resigned to this view, I told Paul all about it;

"Paul, did you give Nick my number?" I asked casually, pulling the covers down and getting into my side of the bed.

Paul put down his IPAD and looked at me thoughtfully: "No love, not that I remember...although we did get pissed on the Friday night, so maybe I did and I don't remember, why?"

"He sent me a text earlier, while we were driving back," I offered.

"He did? What did it say?" Paul said, sitting up, his interest piqued.

I showed Paul the text from Nick. As a reminder from my previous story, it said;

"Fucking amazing weekend whore! I want more and so do you I can tell. I want to hire you for a week sometime soon. Contact me back again on this number and we'll set it up. You can come to mine and be on the end of my cock for a whole week. Text me back if you want it. I'm not paying though, you like this as much as me, you should be paying me for it!"

Paul read it, more than once by the look of it, eyes wide in amused amazement. He snorted and laughed:

"He's a cheeky bastard! I bet you'd do it too wouldn't you!?" he teased, turning to face me.

I blushed crimson, "Yes....I mean, no....Oh!" I didn't know what to say to be honest as I genuinely didn't know what the right answer was.

There was a heavy pause between us; I tried to discuss it further with my husband;

"You've seen yourself the effect he had on me. Did you choose him deliberately?" I said, with some curiosity.

"Deliberately? Sort of I guess. I figured you'd hate him, you can't stand cocky bastards," he said mischievously. He continued, "....and because he's a cocky bastard, I figured you'd get double the humiliation at having to follow his orders. I was right, wasn't I?"

I felt my pussy twinge just at Paul saying this, "You know you were. It worked a treat. All weekend I hated him yet I was practically hypnotised by the git. And this morning, I just....lost myself, I wanted, needed it again somehow....I can't explain it..." I said, trying to make some sense of some very mixed emotions.

"That massive cock of his helped too I bet!" joked Paul, breaking the tension and causing us both to laugh out loud.

"God yes, what a monster, I didn't know how I'd handle it at first?!" I said, still laughing, putting my hand to my mouth to stifle a further giggle.

"Oh, you seemed to find a way..!" Paul teased.

I gave him a saucy glance, hitting him playfully with a pillow and we had a deep and lingering kiss, happy and contented that we were secure enough together in our relationship to be able to do things like this; things that others would see as strange, weird, abhorrent even.

We didn't see it like that at all. It was completely consensual and while our desires led us into involving others into intimate areas of our marriage which other couples would run a mile from, we both knew we wanted no-one else. Despite this, Paul still shocked and surprised me with what he said next;

"You should do it."

"Do what?" I asked, giving him a sexy and coquettish look, thinking he was about to order his dutiful wife to service his cock again in some way;

"The week with Nick, do it," he said, looking intently at me. I stared at him open-mouthed, I genuinely hadn't even thought it worth considering any further, I just didn't see how it could happen. Now here was my husband giving me permission to spend a week as some sort of whore/slave to a cocky guy we both disliked.

"But, I can't....do you want me to.....I mean....?" My head was mashed, I hardly knew what to say as I sat bolt upright in shock.

"I'll make it easy for you," Paul said, "I order you to text him back and agree to it." Paul said, smiling with renewed assurance.

"But...why do you want me to do it? I'll be away all week and well, it's obvious the type of things I'll be doing. You're OK with that? You won't be involved...at all...You won't know what I'll be doing or who with....Won't I be cheating on you?"

"I'm OK with it because you want it so much, I can tell!" Paul said, his voice measured and full of love and understanding.

"Oh, Paul. I do want it yes, I don't know why and I can't explain it properly. The thought of just giving myself to that fucker for a whole week! I don't know, it kind of repulses me initially and then I'm turned on straight away because I'm repulsed! Does that make any sense!?" I said, knowing it probably didn't.

"Not in the slightest!" Paul said amused, "Do it anyway. Look I know enough about Nick to know that he's an arrogant pretty boy, he loves himself and yes, he'll love the fact that you're desperate for his cock." I grimaced at this, Paul smiled nervously, "But, I want you to have this experience. We'll be OK won't we? You'll do this and come back to me and tell me all about it.....and we'll be OK?"

I was so confused at that point and I still had concerns;

"I do want it yes, but, well, I'm fucking terrified if truth be known!" I said, my head a mixture of fear and intrigue that this thing could actually now happen.

"If you definitely want to do it, then do it." Paul said, forcing the issue, "We can even build some safeguards in. You can still involve me."

I looked at him puzzled, struggling to take a breath as I considered the possibility and he elaborated;

"I know he thinks I'm just another of your clients but I did tell him I knew you really well and use you regularly. Tell him as a condition of accepting, that you want the facility to call me every day, same time, say 7pm, so that someone external can check you're OK? Tell him also that as a condition of me taking part, I've instructed you to send me at least 4 photos every day showing me what you've been up to."

"Yes, fine...but being at his beck and call for seven days..I don't know...."

Paul smiled at me warmly as if something had occurred to him. As he did so, he slid his hand down my body and between my legs. I arched my back and gasped lightly as I felt his hand reach swiftly for my pussy. As he leant in to kiss me, my boobs squashed under his chest, he parted my wet cunt lips and lusciously rubbed my clit, forcing me to cry out into his mouth and against his tongue inside mine.

"We both know you want it, Rosie!" he said. I groaned as he unexpectedly used my slut name. We both now knew that I was so wet and totally turned on just at the thought of agreeing to Nick's request, Paul could tell from the almost obscene wetness between my legs.

"Think of the humiliation of texting him back and just giving yourself to him, pussy, arse and all for a whole week. All he has to do is send you a text and you agree he can fuck you as often as he wants all week. This jumped-up tosser who thinks he's a big business man and thinks you're just a tart, a cock-obsessed woman who fawns over him!"

As he said all of this, he continued to rub my slit, his fingers now invading my hole. He moved his head down to my tits and started to lap his tongue over my hardening nipples causing me to arch my back upwards and offer him my breasts freely. He moved back up;

"Just think about the week you'll have. Successful, corporate business woman and perfectly respectable middle class wife here, but down there? There you'll be no more than a common whore. He'll have you dress in slut stockings or as a cheap tart in a leather skirt and use you as a personal cock-sucker all week. He'll click his fingers and as easily as that, you'll drop your knickers for him, make him feel that you're desperate for his cock. I know you want it, Rosie..."

"Oh God, I do want it, I do..." I wailed, almost cried even at the contradiction, my pleasure growing all the time, my head fogging up in delicious lust again.

Paul was in full control of me now;

"So, we're going to send him a text and agree to it aren't we?"

I was broken again. "Yes, give me to him for a week Paul. Give me to him like the cheap, easy slut I am. Free of charge for his pleasure....mmmm....oooohh"

As I said this, I could take no more, the humiliation, the blissful feeling of submission was too much for me. I bent my back and bucked my hips, forcing Paul's fingers in and out of my pussy as I came hard, my own hand ending up over Paul's as my juices flooded out of me and over our fingers. Paul kissed me deeply through my orgasm and as it subsided into the bed, I felt we'd never been closer at that moment in time. Paul snapped me out of the romantic glow of what I'd just experienced. He slid off me and sat up in bed.

"Pass me your phone again," he demanded. I did so, reaching over to fetch it off the bedside table, my head already a whirl as I realised Paul was about to arrange for me to essentially, get fucked senseless by another guy for a whole week.

"I'll text him and make the arrangements." As he said this he took the phone off me. As he did so, he reached down with his free hand and held his cock in his hand;

"While I make these arrangements, get down there and suck on my prick!" he said, waving his penis lewdly at me. I took a deep breath, head dizzy with the scenario and did as instructed obediently. I took his very erect, straining cock in my hand and placing my head flat on his stomach, fed the head of his cock into my mouth.

As I began to slurp on his shaft and mew contentedly, Paul announced that as long as Nick replied, he'd give me a running commentary on the arrangements;

"OK, I'm just replying now," Paul said, as his length grew in my mouth and I massaged his balls in my hand, taking long and luscious head strokes as I slid my mouth up and down his thick pole.

For the next few minutes, Paul and Nick had a text conversation that Paul read out to me word for word as I sucked him off. It went as follows:

Paul: Rosie wants me to tell you that she agrees.

Nick: Who is this?

Paul: It's Paul. As I text, Rosie is being true to form and has my cock in her mouth.

Nick: Nice one fella! Filthy slut. Why's she with you?

Paul: She lives nearby. I gave her a lift back so I decided to charge her a blow job for the privilege. Not that she minds!

Nick: Fair enough. So, she's up for my idea?

Paul: Definitely, why wouldn't a slut like her want a whole week of fucking?

Nick: When you put it like that.....!

Paul: She told me she loves your cock. Biggest she's ever had and she wants more.

Nick: I fucking knew it, slag!

Paul: But she has a couple of conditions before she agrees...

Nick: Go on...?

Paul: First, she needs to feel safe so she wants to be able to call someone each night. I've offered to provide this and I'll charge her 4 photos per night of whatever you've had her doing as the price of my involvement.

Nick: Nice! Fine by me, as long as I can get in her knickers all day, she can phone who the fuck she likes and I'll make sure you get your photos. What else?

Paul: Oh and she wants her own room. You can fuck her wherever and however you want all week but she needs her own room and some time out each day. Perhaps from midnight to 8 the next morning, you leave her be and give her some space?

Nick: Got a spare room here pal, agreed, no probs!

Paul: Then it's a deal. I'll tell the slut to text you tomorrow to set up the dates.

Nick: Fantastic mate, looking forward to using the whore already. She still slobbering on your cock?

Paul: Oh yes, she's a great cock-sucker eh?

Nick: Sure is, I guess she has to be in her line of work. I'm surprised you've lasted this long, give her a load for me!

Paul: Haha, will do! Must go, something I gotta do....!

Nick: Hehe, enjoy and thanks....

For the last 6 or 7 texts, Paul was sweating and straining into my mouth. He was concentrating desperately trying to save his come until the text conversation was over. He tossed the phone aside urgently. I slid down the bed quickly between his legs, lapped my tongue all the way from his ball sack to the tip of his cock before engulfing his entire prick deep in my mouth.

His hands now un-hindered, he pushed the top of my head down and almost screamed in pleasure as I almost choked on his cock. I just had enough room beneath his hands to bob my head a few inches up and down his shaft before he dropped his hands down violently to his sides as his cock started to spew his seed into my greedy cock-sucking mouth.

I cooed and moaned as my mouth filled with semen, my head clamped over the head of his erection. Stroking the base of his cock with my hand, I allowed Paul's nuts to empty inside my mouth. I bobbed my head up and down the shaft through his come until, happy he was spent and swallowing eagerly, I popped it out and crumpled in a tired heap next to him on the bed, overcome with the lust of my actions and the thrill of hearing my husband agreeing to me becoming a cock whore for another man for a whole week.

The deal was sealed I thought. Too tired to think further right then, I just slid up the bed with the covers and I was asleep in minutes, Paul's come still coating my mouth and chin.

I did as instructed by Paul and sent a text to Nick the day after to make the arrangements. It was a whole week which required time off work. The next possible week was a month hence so we agreed I would meet him on the Sunday; my week of servitude starting the Monday after.

It was only then I realised I didn't even know where he lived. Mercifully, he lived in a part of the country that could hardly be further away from me if I'd picked it myself. I was relieved at this as of course, I had no idea what he had in store for me and I wanted to be sure no-one would recognise me doing whatever depravity that Nick had in store for me.

I also wanted to embrace this scenario. As amazingly scary as it was, there was no point in doing this at all unless I committed to it totally. I was going to be a complete and total slut for Nick, I was determined.

I also wanted as little as possible to connect me with my real self and my real life so over the next three weeks, I arranged to take a train journey rather than my own car and arranged to meet Nick in the station car park where he would then ferry me to my fate.

It was probably the longest three weeks of my life and a few days in, Paul had effectively banned me from talking about it as I asked him repeatedly if he was sure he definitely wanted me to do it. In truth, I didn't need to ask myself. Yes, my whole being seemed to fill with dread fear but I reflected on my previous years of a dull sex life and thought I needed to go for it and see where it took me. I knew it would involve depravity and humiliation and in truth, I couldn't wait.