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"Red means one hour of sex here at the club. Gold means the customer can take me home!!" she said and downed her drink. Then she got up and went to the bar to fetch another.
"This is stupid!" I said as she returned. "When Mr. Adams said there would be some intimacy, I figured he meant that guys would grab at you and try to cup your breasts, not that you would be a sold as some whore!"
"I have to do this, otherwise they'll hurt us bad. I will endure this for us if you will still love me afterwards."
My wife, a whore. And she was already doing a good job at it too, dressing up more slutty than any other girls in this establishment with her extra short skirt and no panties. She was going to be on sale for strangers to take home, to fuck as they please. All this because we had done some bad choices. I remembered back when we first met, Pamela was eighteen and the hottest ass around. She usually wore revealing outfits in the hope of getting guys attention. It was first after we married that she got so stuck up. If I could have the whore sitting in front of me at home as well, it might not be so bad to let her go through with this.
"Ok, baby," I answered. "I'll continue to love you even after this."
"I swear I won't enjoy a second of it. Even though Mr. Adams gave me drugs to make me horny."
As she said it, a guy appeared at our table. He was in his mid forties wearing jeans and a light blur shirt. He looked a bit rough with two day beard and mustache. He reached out for my wife's neck and "Click!", attached a red leash to her collar. "I'll require some services from the lady here, if you don't mind," he said to me.
"I do mind," I thought and looked at my wife. She wasn't lying about being horny, that was for sure. I could see it in the way she her eyes were moving, and how her mouth was slightly opened. She got up, and asked the guy for one more minute.
Then she leaned forward towards me and whispered "Red means he gets to fuck me here in the club in front of you. If you are going to say no, now is the time, after this you'll be married to a whore." While leaning towards me, her rear was pointing towards the guy that had just bought her. I could see him he put his hand on her ass under the hem of her skirt. My wife let out a dampened yelp as he squeezed.
"Just promise me you will dress up like this normally too. You are not going to be a whore for other people and deny me the same pleasure!" I said firmly.
"Aaaahh...." Pamela moaned quietly. She was pushed gently forward, and I noticed her eyes roll upwards. From what I could see the guy had pushed a finger inside her.
"If that's what it takes... I'll be your whooo...ooohre. I'm sorry, baby... I'm just so hooohoorny... He has his finger inside me and it feel ssooooo goooood..." She pushed her hips gently backwards, pushing the finger inside her further in.
"
"This is stupid!" I said as she returned. "When Mr. Adams said there would be some intimacy, I figured he meant that guys would grab at you and try to cup your breasts, not that you would be a sold as some whore!"
"I have to do this, otherwise they'll hurt us bad. I will endure this for us if you will still love me afterwards."
My wife, a whore. And she was already doing a good job at it too, dressing up more slutty than any other girls in this establishment with her extra short skirt and no panties. She was going to be on sale for strangers to take home, to fuck as they please. All this because we had done some bad choices. I remembered back when we first met, Pamela was eighteen and the hottest ass around. She usually wore revealing outfits in the hope of getting guys attention. It was first after we married that she got so stuck up. If I could have the whore sitting in front of me at home as well, it might not be so bad to let her go through with this.
"Ok, baby," I answered. "I'll continue to love you even after this."
"I swear I won't enjoy a second of it. Even though Mr. Adams gave me drugs to make me horny."
As she said it, a guy appeared at our table. He was in his mid forties wearing jeans and a light blur shirt. He looked a bit rough with two day beard and mustache. He reached out for my wife's neck and "Click!", attached a red leash to her collar. "I'll require some services from the lady here, if you don't mind," he said to me.
"I do mind," I thought and looked at my wife. She wasn't lying about being horny, that was for sure. I could see it in the way she her eyes were moving, and how her mouth was slightly opened. She got up, and asked the guy for one more minute.
Then she leaned forward towards me and whispered "Red means he gets to fuck me here in the club in front of you. If you are going to say no, now is the time, after this you'll be married to a whore." While leaning towards me, her rear was pointing towards the guy that had just bought her. I could see him he put his hand on her ass under the hem of her skirt. My wife let out a dampened yelp as he squeezed.
"Just promise me you will dress up like this normally too. You are not going to be a whore for other people and deny me the same pleasure!" I said firmly.
"Aaaahh...." Pamela moaned quietly. She was pushed gently forward, and I noticed her eyes roll upwards. From what I could see the guy had pushed a finger inside her.
"If that's what it takes... I'll be your whooo...ooohre. I'm sorry, baby... I'm just so hooohoorny... He has his finger inside me and it feel ssooooo goooood..." She pushed her hips gently backwards, pushing the finger inside her further in.
"
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