Priceless

Priceless

by Velvetglove

Part Five

It was 05.15 on Tuesday 15th January when I rang their doorbell.

I’d come unannounced and on a whim, straight from work.

“Who is it ?” Gordon’s voice asked eventually from behind their front door.

“Open up. It’s me.”

There was a sound of a bolt sliding and a key turning.

“Hi.” He said, rubbing his eyes. He was in just a dressing gown. It was parted and I could see the CB tube round his dick.

“Hi.” I smiled, walking in. It was the first time I’d been in their place since Christmas Day. I heard Sally’s voice ask from upstairs.

“Who is it ?”

“It’s … our Master.” Gordon called back.

We both ascended the stairs. Sally was in their bed in the dark. I switched on the bedside lamps. Her hair was tousled and she was wearing a white nightdress. Her blue eyes looked up at me nervously.

“This bed hasn’t seen much action for a while, has it ?”

It was more a statement of fact than a question, really. I looked from her to him and back again. They both shook their heads and mumbled as I started to undress.

“Well let’s have a bit of a threesome then.”

I watched, giving instructions, as Gordon slipped off his gown and then eased his wife’s cotton shift over her head so she was naked. I sat on the edge of the bed as he went down on her, hunched with his head between her thighs, lapping at her cunt. Her knees were raised and spread wide.

“Look at me.” I said to her, running my fingertips over her nipples. Her large tits were doing their best to stay firm but they were like fruit just past its sell-by date; a little over-ripe and spreading out over her chest.

She opened her eyes and stared, her mouth open in a slight ‘o’. I realised that she’d become genuinely hot and horny, enjoying her husband’s mouth in spite of the early hour, or situation, maybe because of it. She’d had no fun since her visit to Leon three days earlier. Her nipples hardened at my touch.

“You.” I nudged Gordon. “Lick her asshole now.”

I helped Sally shift her hips by supporting her ankles. She carried on gawping at me through glazed eyes as her husband began tonguing the crack between her buttocks. She uttered a slight moan.

I finished undressing and placed my semi-erection across her upturned face. A sliver of pre-cum glistened on her cheek like a slug trail. I noticed she hadn’t done a very good job removing her mascara the night before.

“Now you can lick my asshole too.”

I shifted so I was astride her face. I smiled as I settled and she peered up at my descending crack. Then her features disappeared and I felt her tongue slip right into me. I caught Gordon stealing a glimpse at us.

“You concentrate on your own job.”

After a couple of minutes rimming, I stood up and grinned at Sally’s red face. I wasn’t sure if it was shame or lack of air. My butt is in good shape, muscled and trim, but for some reason it’s incredibly hairy, especially into my crack.

“Gordon,” I announced, “lie face up on the bed. Sally, squat over his head, facing his feet.”

They assumed the position. I studied Gordon’s dick in its steel tube. The skin was tight against the edges and I could tell he was trying to get an erection but was restricted by the tightness and 2 ¾ inches-length.

Sally’s cute backside was presented to me and her rosebud anus was wet with his saliva. I seized her hips and whacked my rock hard 8-inches into her welcoming cunt. She exhaled in a long hiss.

I gave her ten seconds of thrusts and then slid out.

“Now lower your cunt onto his chops.” I whispered harshly into her ear.

I saw her shift angle slightly and heard another ‘sss’.

Her spine froze as my thumbs pulled open her ass cheeks and I placed the swollen, bulbous crown of my shiny wet dick at her puckered entrance.

“Don’t ignore him.” I said. “Lick the poor guy’s dicklet.”

Over her shoulders, I could see her slowly put her tongue to hubby’s steel-encased penis. Meanwhile, I gently pushed my shaft and held open her anus until I managed to breach her defences.

“Owgh …aah …” she complained, shifting about.

“Stay still.”

Another thirty seconds and I was wedged in up to my balls. Sally was moaning rhythmically – a mix of discomfort and excitement, I suspect – and rocking to and fro on her husband’s upturned face.

“What am I doing Sal ? Go on, tell Gordon.”

She kept groaning, as my body started slapping into hers.

“Go on.” I shouted. “Tell him.”

“You’re … you’re fucking my … ass.” She mumbled into his groin.

“Yep, I’m buggering you, aren’t I ? Sodomizing you. Anal sex, heh ?”

“Yesssss. You’re b … buggering me.”

“You like it, Sal ? Tell Gordy you like it.”

“I … like it.”

I gave her a momentous thrust. “Don’t cum, Sal. Not yet.”

She whimpered as I hammered another nail into her ass.

“The customer cums first.” I said. And I blew my load, pumping my hips into her in a series of angry lunges.

After a nice rest across Sally’s back, listening to Gordon gasping under our combined weight, I carefully extricated my slick dick from her poop shute.

“That was not bad.” I slapped her playfully across the rump. There were still faded yellow bruises from the caning I’d given her at my place.

I picked up Gordon’s dressing gown and put it on, tying it round my waist. They were like a frozen tableau on the bed; him lying flat and her squatting astride his head, tits pressed against him as she kissed his steel tube.

“Okay, Sal. Time for Gordon’s breakfast. Sit your ass down on his mouth.”

She glanced at me. I could tell she had mixed feelings; she was worried her husband might be grossed out but, equally, she wanted more.

“Gordon ! Ask her to do it.”

His reply was muffled but immediate. “Please, darling. Do it.”

I smiled as she hesitantly shifted until she was sat upright on his face.

“You have to clean up after anal sex.” I said.

She nodded, building a rhythm. Her nipples stuck out like coat hooks.

I opened my robe and smirked down at my dwindling erection. There were no visible signs but we both knew where it had just been.

“Make yourself cum while you suckle me clean.”

She took me between her lips as her hand snaked down between her legs. In seconds she was strumming her clitoris while grinding her bottom and humming on my penis. I watched as her eyelids began to flutter.

And then she wailed.

A long, uncontrolled gasp as she climaxed, like she had never done before.

I snoozed in bed with Sally while Gordon showered, shaved, dressed and made us all coffee. He stood at the bedside as I blew on it and sipped.

“You’re a good lad, Gordon. You played your part in that threesome. I hope you enjoyed it. Did you ?”

He blushed and nodded. “Er …yes, kind of.”

“Did you want to cum ?”

He dry-swallowed. “Yes.” He said with a shrug.

“But you understand that you can’t ?”

He watched me with my arm draped round Sally. I squeezed her plump boob casually but possessively. She was watching us in silence.

“Yes … I understand.”

I beamed at him. “It’s for your own good.”

He nodded again.

“Okay. Have a good day at the office. Say goodbye to Sally.”

“Er … bye Sally.”

She smiled at him sheepishly. “Bye … darling.”

And with that, he was gone.

Later that day, Gordon fucked himself.

He carried out the plan that we had agreed. He committed theft, and accounting fraud, for quite a large sum, cleverly covering his tracks but leaving a sufficient trail that his crimes could be proved. Along with Sally’s guilt too.

He quietly handed the package of evidence over to me that evening.

“Please don’t misuse this.” He whispered, staring into my eyes.

I held his gaze. “Would I ? It’s just to make it feel right.”

He sighed with relief. “I’m pretty certain I’ll get away with it. The company won’t notice so long as nobody tips them off.”

“Sure. Where’s the money ?”

“In a secret account I set up. Joint. I got Sally to sign the papers at the weekend. She didn’t suspect anything. I told her it was a pension plan.”

I could barely hide my smirk. It was a pension plan. Mine.

“Well done. You deserve a reward.”

He looked at me again, shaking his head. “No. Please don’t,” he whispered, looking out for Sally who was working in the kitchen. “I … don’t deserve any … reward. Yet. I … think you should … you know … treat me bad.”

I chuckled, then started full-on laughing. “It’ll be a pleasure, Gordon.”

Sally gasped. They both did.

I’d uploaded another 40-seconds clip onto You Porn. It showed Sally doing herself with a big condom-covered cucumber. Harmless fun.

“Phew.” They both sighed when they realised I hadn’t shown her face.

It was good to know my primary blackmail material was so valuable. Maybe I wouldn’t need the back-up theft and fraud anyway ?

“Sally, I want you to resign your job.” I said matter-of-factly.

“But …”

“Don’t fucking argue all the time !” I shouted at her.

She looked at me and burst into tears. Gordon frowned in shock.

“Stop crying. Control yourself.” I said calmly.

She wiped her eyes. “You can’t take over our lives.”

I cupped her chin. “You just want the fun, don’t you Sally ? Well it doesn’t work like that. Part-time fun.” I kissed a tear from her cheek. “It’s full time, my dear. Besides, you don’t need the money, do you ?”

“No.” Gordon volunteered.

“It’s m … my independence.” Sally sniffled. “It’s not the money, it’s the principle.”

“But you can still work, Sally. Just not at your old job.”

She puckered her brow. “Work ?”

“Sure. I’ll choose your jobs for you.”

“Oh yeah. I’m not being a prostitute for you. I’d rather you posted every damned clip you’ve got on the net than be your whore.”

I raised an eyebrow. It would be fun to find out. One day.

“Not a prostitute Sally. But some work more in keeping with your new … station.”

Gordon joined in, both of them frowning at me.

I laughed. “Come on.” I clicked the mouse on the favourites folder. “Gordon, you write up your blog while Sally and I watch a bit of TV.”

He slept that night handcuffed to the toilet cistern while we slept in the marital bed. I’d discovered Sally is a night time pooper. I tend to go mostly in the mornings. She used the pan in front of me, still cringing with embarrassment, as I finished my wine perched on the edge of the bathtub.

Funny how a cute woman can produce such a loud and large offering.

I studied her pretty features as she grunted and grimaced, the slight crow’s feet round her hazel brown eyes puckering. She still had her makeup on but I made a mental note to get her to do a through job removing it. Her teeth are excellent; even, pearly white. As I said, she’s not really my taste but she’s undoubtedly attractive in an unsophisticated, buxom way. I love women with super-slim waists but big tits. Maybe we should see about getting her a boob job ?

“Don’t flush.” I lifted the seat and pissed into her mushy remains.

Then we fetched Gordon and tied him up to the cistern for the night.

Jan called my cell phone while Sally was massaging my back in bed.

“Hi.” I saw my girlfriend’s name on the mini-screen.

“Hi. Whatchya doing  ?” she asked.

“Just hitting the hay.”

“Mm, I envy you.” She replied. She was doing night duty again.

I shifted on the bed, enjoying Sally’s kneading of my shoulders.

“I miss you.” I said.

She giggled girlishly. “Thank you. Again.” Jan had been delighted with the large package of new clothes I had given her. She was so chuffed she never thought to ask where the money came from. Sally had selected two full lingerie outfits, two tops, a skirt, a woollen dress, a pair of black high heels, a triple-set of lace stockings and a cashmere scarf for Jan, all paid for on Sally’s credit card.

“It was nothing.” I murmured. “You deserve it.”

She lowered her voice. “Don’t play with yourself tonight. I want you good and horny at the weekend.”

“Would I ? I promise you my fingers won’t go near my dick tonight.”

She giggled again. “Good boy. Gotta dash. Sleep tight.”

I put the phone on the bedside table and rolled over onto my back, facing Sally. I glanced down at my groin.

“You heard. I’m not allowed to touch it.”

She paused. “What do you want ?”

“I want a nice lazy hand-job.” I said, stretching, glancing at my watch. “Exactly thirty minutes worth. And while you do it, I want you to tell me a bedtime story about a worthless couple who find themselves under the control of a Master. Make it good. Loads of ideas. And then, when I cum, I want to feel it splash all over my chest, because afterwards you’re going to lick it up, bit by bit. Got all that ?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

I shut my eyes and sank down into the mattress. “Then you can begin.”

*** *** ***

I am updating this blog at my Master’s instruction. It is ten o’clock on the evening of January 15th 2008. I have to write exactly 500 words about how I feel. The TV is blaring from the other room where my Master and my wife are watching some show. I have kept a daily diary but I’ve only been told to post a couple of extracts so far.

In short, how do I feel ? Well, I’m in the shit so deep my eyes are brown. But it’s what I wanted in that sick, desperate way my mind works. There are probably some people reading this blog who are thinking, wow, what a hot fantasy. They jack off reading it. But do they ever intend going through with something like this ? Do they heck. You’ve got to be a dork like me to actually go ahead. I mean, it began as a one-off thing. A Christmas present to myself. And Sally, of course. Something to try once and remember to spice up our sex life in the years to come. I was surprised she went for it, but then again, she’s always surprised me. Just saying yes when I proposed to her for starters.

And then it kind of got out of hand. Our Master wouldn’t take no for an answer. The blackmail was part of it, sure, but I like to think we could have stopped him. The truth is we wanted more too. It was so hot, in an emotional, sexual, masochistic sense, to give into him again and then to suffer that New Year’s Eve party.

And now ? Well, as you can probably imagine reading this, I am climbing the walls with sexual frustration and yet it is the most sexually exciting thing I’ve ever done. I can’t even masturbate. This tube works, believe me. I always thought that CB devices were ultimately like toys. They worked as long as you let them. But this is solid, tight, tamperproof and 100% effective. No erection. No orgasm. But it doesn’t prevent you wanting both those things more and more.

But another guy holds the key. The same guy who’s fucking my wife and gradually taking her over. He doesn’t love her (thank heavens), at least I don’t think he does. He just uses her, in increasingly obscene and demeaning ways. And not only did I just let him, I couldn’t stop him now if I wanted to.

I’ve stolen six figures. Committed fraud. Oh sure, maybe I could try and explain it was just part of a sex game. Er, I don’t think so. Even this blog will fuck me as I’ve admitted it. And Sally too. She’s as guilty as me. We’re in this together. We get caught and we’ve no job, no friends, no life. We don’t have any choice but to play this game out now until the end, wherever that is. We’re at somebody else’s mercy. A virtual stranger. A predator. Master.

*** *** ***

I slept well that night but woke early, in time to fuck Sally before I left.

“You want to cum ?” I asked as my own orgasm approached.

“Mmm … yes.” She hissed,  grinding against me.

I chuckled. “No. You came yesterday morning. That’s enough for a while.”

I spewed my overnight load into her.

The stink in the bathroom had disappeared but Gordon had spent the night staring into the dirty pan. Sally sat astride the toilet seat and wiped her oozing cunt with tissue inches from his face. Then we released him from the cistern.

“Go make me a coffee.” I told him. I stressed the word ‘me’.

I took a nice, long, hot shower, dried and started to dress.

Sally went to follow me into the shower. I shook my head at her.

“No, Sally. I want you going round with my mark on you. Get dressed.”

I followed her to her wardrobe and selected a mid-thigh skirt, tight T, some fishnet stockings still in their packaging, garter belt, and heels. No bra or thong. She stared at me.

“But …”

“Hurry up.”

“I’m leaking. What about underwear ?”

“Don’t worry. The outfit’s fine.”

“It’s freezing outside.” She said, hands on hips.

“You can wear a long coat.” I said. “If you hurry up. Come on.”

With a shake of her head, she quickly pulled the white T over her head. Her full tits strained against the cotton. She sat down and rolled the new black fishnet stockings up her legs, clipped on the garter belt and fastened the stockings to the straps. Finally, she put the black skirt on round her waist and stepped into the 4-inch heels.

I grinned in approval.

“You look great. A touch overweight, but hot.”

Gordon’s eyes bulged as we entered the kitchen. He held out a mug.

“Okay, mate.” I said. “You can use your bathroom now and then get off to work. I’ll call if I need you.”

He looked at Sally.

“She’s coming with me. I’m not sure if she’ll be home tonight.”

I shrugged at their shocked expressions and blew on my coffee.

“Bye Gordon.”

He took one more look at his wife and walked out of the kitchen.

Sally tut-tutted and shook her head. Then she walked over to the fridge.

“What are you doing ?”

“Getting some breakfast.”

“No. You can have a glass of tap water. Got to keep fluids up. But no food, milk or even juice. You’re going on a diet.”

“You have to be kidding !”

I made a slurping noise with my coffee. “Not at all.”

“But I need to eat !” she replied in exasperation.

“And so you shall. But you’re going to lose ten pounds minimum. Maybe more. I’ll see what I think once you’ve begun taking regular exercise.”

She realised I was serious. “Please …”

“Hurry up and drink some water. Then get your coat. We’re leaving.”

I was struggling for ideas for  Sally’s employment. I figured maybe readers of Gordon’s blog might email me some ideas !

In the meantime, I knew a guy who owned a greasy, fast-food joint about ten minutes from where I work. It’s one of those places that can only survive against the big chains by exploiting the staff and using crummy meat in the burgers. Nevertheless, we sometimes go there for fry-up breakfasts after we’ve finished on the night shift.

The ever present ‘staff required’ sign was in the steamed up window.

The Anglo-Italian owner wiped his lips on a dirty towel. He stared at Sally in amazement, then back at me.

“You come about a job ?” he asked, as if he’d misheard.

“Yes.” I replied. “She needs the work. I said I’d help her find some.”

His greedy eyes narrowed and he stroked his stubbly double-chin.

“I don’t really need anybody now.”

“Oh come on, Vittorio.” I said, chuckling. “You always need people. You can never keep staff more than a few days.”

He shrugged. “Take off your coat darling.”

I nodded. Reluctantly, blushing scarlet, Sally slipped off the coat.

Vittorio couldn’t help whistling. “Nice lady.” He looked at me inquisitively. “Okay. What’s the deal here ? What’s she to you ?”

The Café was empty but for a couple of diners at a counter facing the street. They had their backs to us and were reading tabloid newspapers. I placed my hand on Sally’s tit.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Vittorio didn’t know me well and had no knowledge of Jan.

He frowned, then broke into a grin. “Girlfriend ? Not like any dame I know. She a special kind of … girlfriend ?”

Sally’s lip was trembling, listening to herself being discussed.

I nodded. “Yeah. Special. You can’t touch her, Vittorio. Nor can anybody else. But you can work her into the ground. Tell me if she misbehaves.”

“Mamma mia ! It’s my lucky day. How long ?”

“I’m not sure. A while. On the same days as I work. Twelve hour shifts, okay ?”

He held his hand poised to shake mine. “Only minimum wage.”

I shook his hand. “There’s no need to do any bookwork. You can pay me the equivalent in cash when I collect her each day.”

He released my hand. “Done. She always going to dress like that ?”

I surveyed Sally. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

He looked her up and down again, staring at her legs and tits.

“Okay. Lady. Time to show you the ropes.”

I smiled at his turn of phrase. Maybe some ropes would be an idea ?

“By the way, don’t let her eat much. Just water and some fruit at midday.” I picked up one of those shiny, tasteless apples and a squidgy orange.

“Those will do. And no coffee or lunch breaks. Now, I’ve just got time for one of your so-called cappuccinos, Vittorio.”

It was after 8 p.m. when I stopped by to pick Sally up.

She was leaning over wiping tables. Her skirt barely covered her thighs.

I waved at Vittorio who was counting money at the till.

“How’d she do ?”

He made a face. “Sulky bitch. She worked but never smiled once. Mind you, the customers seemed to like her.” He winked. “Know what I mean.”

I winked back.

“Get your coat Sally. Hurry.”

I let her see Vittorio carefully counting out a few notes and coins into my hand. I picked out the small change; two 10ps, a 5p and a 2p.

“Here, Sal. Your share.”

She took the 27 pence from me like an automaton, mouth agape.

“Lets go.”

She didn’t speak in the taxi the whole way home. I ignored her, watching the streetlights and traffic. I usually travel on the bus and it was nice to splash out on my own cab.

When we were nearly home I lifted the hem of her coat in silence. She stonily let me finger her cunt under her skirt. I sniffed.

“You stink.”

“And who’s fault is that ?” she glared at me.

I nodded at the old cabdriver up front. “You want to fuck him ?”

She shut her eyes apologetically. “… no.”

I put two fingers to her lips and she slowly licked them clean.

I paid the cabbie and made sure to give him a generous tip. It put her 27 pence for 12 hours work in context.

Once inside my place, I told her to crack me open a beer.

“Please.” She said, returning with it. “At least tell me what’s going on. Have you spoken to Gordon ?”

“No. Why ? Should I have ?”

“But he’s my husband. He’ll be worried.”

“Why ? I told him you might not be going home tonight.”

“But … oh shit, I can’t go on like this.”

I smiled pleasantly. “Yes, you can. But actually, if you must know, I did call Gordon. He’s busy, doing some chores for me. So don’t worry. He’s not expecting you.”

There was a shrill ring on my doorbell. Sally jumped.

“Go open the door, Sal.” I said. “It’s poker night.”

I lied.

It was a small lie. Just a spelling mistake actually.

She opened the door to five guys; our mutual friend Leon and another black guy named Anthony, plus a carrot-top called Tom, an Asian known as ‘Phuket’ and my sad, divorced schoolmate, a barrister named Charles.

I am an equal opportunities party giver.

You see, it wasn’t really poker night.

It was poke-her night.

Sally brought in a tray of beers, vodka and wine, with peanuts. The guys were all sat in chairs round the room, enjoying the view. Her legs must have been tired from a long day in the heels. Phuket shook his beer and spume sprayed onto Sally’s tight top as she bent over.

“Got an ashtray ?” Tom said, producing his inevitable pack of Marlboros. We call him ‘tomato’ and people think it’s a play on his name and due to his hair. But it’s actually because he’s always carrying a red pack of Marlboro cigarettes.

Leon opened a tin and removed several fat marijuana joints.

I gave them both ashtrays. It was going to be a heck of a party.

Tom lit his first cig and opened his thighs suggestively, leering at Sally. He was wearing baggy jeans and a moth-eaten sweater.

“Hey.” He called over to me, raising his vodka shot. “Cheers.”

We all lifted our cans and glasses. Sally watched us, her wet top clinging to her boobs.

“Take that off Sal.” I said. “It’s soaking.”

She looked like she was going to argue but she saw my expression. With a sigh, she lifted her arms and peeled it over her head.

The guys whistled, enjoying the topless display of her 34Cs.

“Hey babe.” Tom called out to her. He took a long drag on his Marlboro.

“Come to where the flavour is !”

End of Part Five