Post-Nuptial Agreement Ch. 07-08

Seven

The rest of the day was uneventful for Violet. She spent a lot of time soaking in a tub, hoping to soothe away the various aches and pains of her nether region. She tried to think about what Darren told her that morning, about accepting her situation and getting pleasure out of it. She wanted to believe that was possible. She'd tried to convince herself of something similar after her confrontation with Abigail Condon. She was married to an ultra-rich man who didn't look bad for his age and made few demands on her time. She was free to do almost anything she wanted.

The demands on her time were the problem, though. She could deal with Darren fucking her in the morning. She was getting better at blowjobs; she'd found some exercises online that were supposed to stretch her jaw, and she could actually take the electronic dildo in her mouth without setting off the sensors now. But she could only do it the first time she pushed it in, and only if she did it slow. As soon as she tried to actually move like she was giving a blowjob she kept scraping with her teeth. She'd started to think about carrying the ring gag around with her. Her third Sunday session was coming up though, and she just couldn't see a way to enjoy that. She only liked eating pussy when someone else was taking care of hers, and there was no way that would happen. She'd trained her ass enough that it wasn't agonizing pain anymore, but it still hurt more than it felt good, and now she had the added worry of Chad, who clearly intended to return this week and probably would try to fuck her ass dry again. She found herself hoping Manny and the two black security guards would get to her first, possibly even a few times each, just so her ass would have some kind of lubricant in it when Chad showed up.

Sitting in the tub, she suddenly realized she was seriously considering the merits of having enough guys fuck her ass so it could be lubed up with cum, and of carrying a ring gag so her husband wouldn't have to wait when he came to her for a blowjob, and wondered if her friend Cherise would still be jealous.

* * * * *

Darren found Violet at four in the afternoon, sitting on their bed curled up in the fetal position. Her face was pressed to her knees and when she looked up it was clear she'd been crying. If Violet had been hoping for sympathy from her husband it wasn't forthcoming. Darren's face hardened again and he strode over to the bed, undoing his pants as he went. Violet hesitated when he stopped at the edge and then started slowly moving toward him. It wasn't fast enough for Darren. As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her arm and yanked, jerking her over. She yelped and found herself dragged across the bed. Darren's arms and hands seemed to move at blinding speed and suddenly her arms were pinned behind her back. He pulled and pain flared in her shoulder. She gasped out loud, which opened her mouth enough for him to place the gag. Then he dropped her and trapped her arms on the bed. She now lay flat on her back, her head hanging off the edge, meaning she was in a perfect position for him to slide his cock into her throat.

He did that, immediately and deeply. Violet gagged as she hadn't been prepared for it, but it was the gag of a choked airway rather than suppressed vomit. He withdrew and paused for a second, apparently not looking to actually deprive his wife of oxygen, then resumed. Violet managed to get a breath in and hold it before her husband's rod slid back into her mouth. With her position and the ring gag guaranteeing space in her mouth, his cock slid straight down into her throat without stopping, and it went deeper than it ever had before. He got so much penetration his balls actually settled against her face.

Once he positioned himself appropriately, Darren just began fucking Violet's throat, never fully withdrawing. Violet had to stay in position and take it or risk hurting him, and she didn't want to think about what would happen then. She started swallowing by reflex, trying to keep herself from choking on her own spit and because her throat tried to clear the invading member as it slid in and out each time. She didn't know it, but the reactions were perfectly stimulating Darren's penis, though he knew it wasn't her doing at all.

When it seemed obvious Violet wasn't going to move, Darren let go of her arms and put his hands on her breasts. The large globes were shifting slightly back and forth, well defined and mostly pushed up thanks to Violet's bra. Violet was briefly proud of herself; the bra had always been one of her favorites, a Victoria's Secret special she'd splurged on a year after graduating when she'd decided on her plan to catch a rich man with her body. She wondered if Darren remembered it was the bra she wore the first time they were together.

She never found out. Darren caressed her breasts through the clothing, then suddenly and violently bunched it up and ripped. The bra was a front-clasp and only held by a small piece of plastic that almost instantly gave way. Violet's breasts lay exposed to the air, jiggling slightly as Darren's thrusts into her throat moved her body. He grabbed the bare mammaries and kneaded them, apparently just enjoying the feel of having the large tits in his hands as none of his motions explicitly teased or stimulated Violet.

Violet was at least grateful because his manhandling of her tits seemed to stimulate him more. His pace increased and became slightly less steady, which she'd learned was a signal he was close. Sure enough, after a few more shaky thrusts he slid his cock deep and erupted.

Violet had to clench every muscle in her body to keep from vomiting or panicking. She couldn't breathe at all; even if her throat were clear her nose was blocked by Darren's sack. He stayed there for what felt like ages and Violet thought the edges of her vision were graying. She'd automatically swallowed all of his cum just because he was so deep she had no other choice. He finally pulled out and Violet sucked in air like a drowning victim, then coughed as her throat tried to return to its normal shape.

"We'll skip the cleaning for now since I was in your mouth anyway," Darren said, "When you're done feeling sorry for yourself in this French guest villa in the beautiful countryside that your near-billionaire husband took you to on a private jet, there's an outfit for you in the guest bedroom. We're having company for dinner."

Violet waited until he'd left before rolling over. She got out of her clothes slowly and looked at the destroyed bra. It was the last piece of clothing she'd brought with her. The last thing she'd still had that was hers and not a product of the messed up marriage arrangement. Even though it was stupid, she felt like it was a turning point. Like somehow she was really, irrevocably trapped now.

* * * * *

The "outfit" in the guest bedroom was only one piece of clothing, which Violet put on. It would have been a little black dress that held tight to her curves except it was made of lace, and the thin material was not tightly knit. The thicker designs in the mesh were placed over strategic areas, but her entire body was basically visible in it, particularly from the back, where the patterns did nothing but break up the web. No underwear had been set out with the dress, and given Darren's mood Violet guessed she shouldn't tempt fate by trying to wear any.

The man who arrived at the door a little over an hour later was younger than almost everyone who'd been at Darren's wedding as a "friend," but he creeped her out more than anyone she'd met. She stood next to Darren inside the front door and he spent a long and very obvious amount of time ogling her until Darren caught his attention and greeted him as a "Mister Chevalier." The man replied only in French, and even through his usually stoic visage, Violet could tell Darren was annoyed.

They made it as far as the dining room. When they went to sit down, Chevalier pulled Violet down to sit in his lap with a cruel laugh. Violet wanted to fight but decided against it and settled onto the man's leg. She could feel his cock against her ass cheek as his other hand started at her midriff and started creeping up toward her breast. Darren was still standing.

"Please stand up darling," Darren said, holding out his hand.

Confused but also somewhat relieved, she took his hand and he helped her up out of the man's lap and moved her a few steps away. Then he spun around amazingly fast and there was a crack of skin hitting skin and Chevalier was on the ground, clutching the side of his face. Violet looked away in shock but she heard a thudded impact and a coughing whoosh of air being forced out of someone.

"Get your things," Darren said to her, "we're leaving."

Darren didn't even give her time to change, merely tossing her a long trenchcoat-like thing to cover herself after she'd gathered her bag. He told her to leave everything she'd unpacked and again, she had to remind herself that anything left could be shipped back or simply replaced with minimal effort. They were at the airport a short time later and walking up to the plane shortly after that. Violet guessed no more than an hour had passed between her being forced to sit in the man's lap and settling down into a seat on the jet. Several people had tried talking excitedly to Darren, most of them holding cell phones out to him pleadingly, but he either ignored them until they went away or snapped a few words at them in French. When the plane was literally taxiing down the runway he finally responded to one of the calls, had a very short conversation in a completely different language that she couldn't place, and then replaced the phone with a lot more force.

Darren sat still and silent for most of the beginning of the flight, all but ignoring Lisa's questions about getting him something. Then about an hour after they got in the air, he finally looked at her.

"Yes. Recline my wife's seat until it's flat. Get her into doggystyle position and start rimming her ass. Keep doing it until I tell you to stop."

Violet stared dumbfounded at them as he spoke, but when he finished, Lisa simply nodded and walked over. She reached down next to Violet's seat and suddenly the back was reclining, gradually flattening out. When she was looking up at the plane's ceiling Lisa appeared in her view and put her hands on Violet's hips, starting to lift her dress.

"Tear it off her," Darren called out.

Lisa barely even paused and then for the second time that day Violet's outfit was torn apart. The lace dress wasn't hard for the flight attendant to destroy, and soon Violet's body was exposed on the flat seat. She looked at Violet expectantly.

Gulping, Violet turned over and in what was now a familiar routine, settled her face and shoulders against the flat surface and stuck her ass in the air, knees apart.

"I want you naked too," Violet heard Darren say.

There was a slight delay and rustling of clothing, then Violet could feel Lisa approach. She heard the girl's legs settle on the wide armrests. The first thing Violet felt were the girl's hands settling on her ass cheeks, turning as she lowered herself. Next her breasts settled onto the small of Violet's back, with her collar and shoulders soon following. Then her hands pulled Violet's cheeks apart and she felt breath on the area between before the first sensation of a wet tongue touched her.

Lisa wasn't hesitant at all; the first contact was directly on her pucker, and she immediately tried to spear her tongue inside. She established a pattern: push in, then swirl her tongue around the crinkled outside. Push, swirl, push swirl. Despite how much her ass had been used and abused Violet still clenched whenever the girl tried to breach her ring, but soon Lisa changed her rhythm and started catching her off guard, pushing through just after Violet clenched, or just before she was ready, and managed to get some penetration into her anus. Violet started squirming, not really enjoying the sensation, but Lisa had a commanding position and held her mostly steady.

Violet was so distracted by the girl tonging her ass she didn't even notice Darren approach until he said almost into her ear, "This is happening. Let's see if you decided to enjoy it or just endure it."

Darren walked back behind her. Violet expected to feel his cock at her ass but without warning it suddenly slammed into her pussy and she cried out with a yelp. She realized then what he meant; she'd been resisting and avoiding Lisa's rimjob and therefore wasn't at all lubricated for Darren's entry. Of course, her husband didn't stop. He slammed into her mostly dry lips three more times, each one an unpleasant shock for Violet. Then she felt the cock rub along her ass and Lisa's tongue stopped its anal assault briefly. Darren's next thrust worked its way in, slightly lubricated with what Violet realized must be Lisa's spit. Still it wasn't a smooth entry, tugging and pulling unpleasantly at her labia and roughly forcing its way into her tunnel. Darren was forced to more or less grind into her pussy until biology took over and her vagina got wetter simply because something was in it. When he finally started thrusting, it was hard and brutal. He would have fucked her right off the end of the chair if he didn't have a death grip on her hips and if Lisa's body weren't weighing her down. All the while Lisa never stopped tonguing her asshole.

While he didn't often focus on her pleasure, this time Darren was clearly venting his frustrations with the last two hours of his life and paid even less attention. She recalled the unfortunate Julia's claim that Violet was nothing more than a "self-cleaning Fleshlight." That certainly seemed to be her role at that point. Violet barely got to the point of being lubricated enough for smooth fucking before Darren unloaded into her. Violet expected to have his cock in her face for cleaning, but right as he withdrew she heard gagging sounds that could only be from someone getting a cock shoved into their throat; apparently the job of cleaning him off went to Lisa.

She felt Lisa straighten up slightly and started to move herself but then Lisa seemed to hug her back and her thighs, keeping her in place. Then a line of fire erupted on Violet's ass and she yelled. It happened four more times and then there was a long pause. Finally Darren's voice said, "Help her get cleaned up. I don't want cum on the leather."

Lisa took her forearm and carefully but firmly helped Violet stand and led her to the back of the plane where there was a full sleeping cabin she never knew about. Violet lay on it, keeping her ass from contacting the surface as much as possible. She gingerly touched her cheeks but there was no blood. Somehow there never was, despite how much it hurt. Soon Lisa returned with Violet's carryon.

"Thanks for the help," Violet said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"You're welcome," Lisa snapped back, "Maybe next time try to remember the help?"

Violet's sputtered and finally got out, "I'm sorry, who the fuck just got whipped out there?"

"Who the fuck had to clean the cabin, get you drinks, lick your asshole while he fucked you, and now has to get dressed and finish serving for the whole plane ride? Oh, and you know what I'm doing when we land? Cleaning the whole plane again, mopping up whatever spit and pussy juice you left on the seat. Then I get to go to my second job tomorrow, which has to be one I can drop at a moment's notice in case he wants to take off."

"You don't know-"

"That he caught you fucking around on him? Of course I know. He bragged about it to me constantly for the past few months. He even showed me a goddamn video of you riding that guy he hired who duped you into fucking him. You made your bed, honey. Now get fucked in it or don't. I get paid five grand a flight, I have to do all the cleaning, and I still have to bend over at the snap of a finger. You only have to do the last part."

"So why the fuck do you stay then?" Violet snapped.

"Because it's three times what I'd get paid as a regular flight attendant and I never have to worry about anyone finding out I fuck him for money like if I was a real whore. If you didn't notice he can actually be pleasant, and he's a good fuck. I didn't fake that orgasm on the flight over. If you don't know what a good deal you've got, that's your problem. But don't pretend you've got it worse than any of us. Enjoy your flight. I'll be around in a few minutes about drinks."

Lisa snapped the curtain closed and for the second time that day Violet was left sitting on a bed, her torn clothes around her, wondering if she was in the wrong.

* * * * *

The routine resumed on their arrival home. Violet went to the gym every other day; that plus watching her diet gave her what she considered to be her "porn" figure: muscles and burned fat to keep her shape, enough padding that her boobs and ass didn't shrink and she didn't start bulging with muscles. She used to do it so she could snag any guy she wanted that wasn't gay or asexual. Now she kept it up because she was afraid slippage in her looks would land her out on her ass.

Speaking of, she still had a certain amount of soreness from the weekend, so she did as many exercises as she could without sitting and opted for the treadmill over the bike. Sweaty and feeling burn that had nothing to do with sex, she made her way to the showers.

The gym wasn't a local chain; Darren's status and connections got her access to a health club that occupied several floors of an Atlanta high rise and featured anything vaguely related to health. On site pool, hot tubs, massage, acupuncture, meditation, yoga, there was even a health clinic Violet was sure could do anything short of open heart surgery. Of course a facility like that didn't have locker rooms with communal showers where everyone pointedly stared at flat pieces of wall to avoid seeing something. Each person was basically given their own private changing room, with a locking door, glass walled shower, full vanity, and even a small couch that someone could nap on if they were tired enough. Even though she'd only been using it for a few days Violet was already used to the unaccustomed privacy.

That's why it caught her off guard when she saw Abigail Condon practically skipping through one of the hallways in nothing but a towel, and a short towel at that. Her speed and bouncy steps flared the towel out causing her barely-there ass and tight bald pussy to flash almost constantly. Violet briefly thought she'd be better served making a skirt out of the towel; she didn't have anything to cover up top.

Then Violet saw her face. She smiled widely and seemed to not have a care in the world. In that moment she felt a deep, almost physical surge of jealousy. Before she really thought about it, she found herself following the waify girl back to her changing room. Abigail didn't seem to notice and after entering her room she apparently trusted the counterweight system to close the door behind her, so Violet caught it before it latched and stepped in.

Abigail stood on a stool, still nude, her hips pressed against the vanity's counter so she could lean close enough to apply pink glitter lipstick. A tube of glittery eyeshadow and sparkling blush sat on the counter as well. Violet had to stop and stare at the girl's figure or what Violet saw as a lack thereof; even leaning forward her chest barely popped out, and her ass was barely distinguishable from the tops of her legs. She imagined the girl would have to literally bend over backwards before her cheeks protruded at all. She didn't look unhealthy, really; there was enough padding that her bones didn't show through for the most part, she just had no curves.