Hubby's Corporate Fuck Toy

Prologue

Just for reader benefit, this story can be read as Chapter 5 of my Staid Wife series if you so wish but I confess I get a little bored myself of longer series and the events in this story were significant enough for me to make a standalone story from it.

Introduction

If you don't want to read previous chapters of 'Staid Wife to Slut Wife', the basic summary is that after a drunken infidelity of mine with a guy from work which my husband walked in on (but got so turned on that he fucked me too there and then), my husband, Paul and I have embarked on a changed relationship. We had a typical suburban, dull lifestyle but now we were both exploring a relationship based on his domination of me, a slut wife. I have found that I increasingly revel in the humiliation and domination that I receive and now crave it.

My name is Natalie. I am 36, I have long straight, jet black hair, 5' 7, slim figure and full 36c breasts. Men usually find me highly attractive and I've certainly never had problems catching their attention. Men compliment me on my looks, my pale blue eyes and my strikingly clear complexion. I hold a senior managerial job at my work and I usually dress accordingly, skirt suits, high heels, fairly straight laced but feminine, professional and well presented.

My husband's name is Paul. He's 37, slightly greying, short black hair. He has a very pale complexion, but a warm and friendly face, pale blue eyes just like mine. He is quite well built although with the onset of the coming middle age, had lost a little of his rugged manliness that so attracted me to him all those years ago. He works for a construction company, having worked through the ranks to become an executive at the company himself.

Since that drunken night when Paul caught me cheating, he'd provided me with increasingly humiliatingly submissive experiences, including sharing me with his friend, Stuart and more recently, my friend, Fiona.

The incident with Fiona, like so many others, had left us both with many questions. Paul was developing a habit of becoming very passive in situations where someone else was dominating me and I often forgot he was even there. His desire was more to watch my humiliation than participate when in company. He was quite quiet over the next few days until I had that now familiar request to book the Friday and Monday off work the week after next.

FRIDAY MORNING

I did book the time off, with some excitement. These instructions now inevitably led to further submissive adventures but for the days that followed Paul stubbornly refused to tell me where we were going and what was to happen.

I had to wait in fact until the Friday morning itself. After almost having a row with him demanding he tell me, he revealed we were off to a hotel and conference centre down South; apparently there was a work conference over the weekend that he needed to go to and it was important as a client or two would be there and he had a couple of contracts to chase up.

My mind worked overtime figuring out how I would figure in this plan, I guess he was just going to use the opportunity to book us a hotel room and spend some quality time using me!

My curiosity was piqued further however when he went upstairs and brought my case down – he'd already packed for me. I was just told to fetch myself whatever I needed for the journey and a couple of days stay and before I knew it, he drove us both down to the hotel.

The hotel was more of a converted stately home. Grandiose gardens and driveway and on getting in, Paul sorted the rooms out. My curiosity piqued again by the fact he had booked two rooms and seemed to have several keys. I felt certain other people were going to be involved in this weekend and as I walked to my room, my breathing was a little heavy with nervous anticipation.

The room itself befitted the grand setting. It was more like a mini house to be honest. It had a large master bedroom, an ante-room with a TV and lounge set off it and a large bathroom, all immaculately presented. We spent an hour or two looking around the hotel and settling in before returning to our room.

FRIDAY AFTERNOON

That's when the surprises started, Paul opened up my suitcase and pulled out a brand new black see-through basque, black lace knickers, black stockings and black heels – his favourite outfit on me. I smiled coquettishly at him, ready to put them on for what I assumed was his sole benefit. He told me however to put them on and wait in the ante-room as he was off to fetch someone. I blanched and before he left, caught his arm hurriedly:

"Paul, tell me what's going on? What are you doing?" I said, nervously.

"Do you want to be a slut wife or not?" he said, smiling at me mischievously.

"You know I do, but...I want to know what your getting us into first....I'm not sure what is happening..." I said, nervous but a turned on, excited nervous.

"Trust me, this weekend will be amazing for you, for us both. I don't want to tell you much as you'll find out very soon but, well, you like the idea of fucking other men and being a slut for us don't you?"

He didn't need an answer, I just shrugged, an exasperated shrug.

"Well, this weekend that's exactly what you'll be doing. Trust me, it will be fun for both of us." With that he waited for further argument and discussion. I kept quiet, figuring I'd signed up for this lifestyle, I was no longer in control and I had to accept things like this. The dampness between my legs also betrayed my true feelings, I was spiralling into my humiliation all too easily.

Paul paused, kissed me on the lips and said, "Just go with what the weekend brings, I'll look after you as best as I can. I'll be back in an hour, put those clothes on, put your slutty lippy on and wait in here for me to get back and for the fun to begin."

I did as instructed (as was to be the case so many times that weekend!) I sat on the chair in front of the mirror ante room after a quick shower and dressed like a tart – which to me meant full make up, red fingernails and slut red lipstick before slipping into the clothes Paul had left me. Clothes being a loose term for what was there – a very small black basque that barely covered my breasts up, they nearly fell out every time I took a deep breath. A miniscule pair of virtually see- through black lace knickers, very expensive black seamed stockings and my black stilettos.

Surveying myself in the mirror, I looked every inch the whore and as I suspected even then, in less than an hour from then, that's exactly what I would be. I sat in the completely impractical clothes for a few minutes, light headed with my head swimming in the fog of lust that envelopes me in these situations. I even worried that my tiny knickers would get wet and even more see through if I leaked onto them!

I couldn't take the suspense much longer but sure enough, around the corner from the room, I heard voices. The adjoining door was open and I listened in. It was Paul, and some other guy.

I heard them take a seat in the lounge area and Paul started to talk;

"You know we've been trying to secure this contract with you for a few months now Nick. I thought this conference might be a good chance to seal the deal. I think you like what we're offering and the overall package so how about we seal the deal this weekend and save us both a lot of time?"

There was a pause and Nick said, "we could do Paul but you know there are still some things to work through, there's the product description issues and the specs and...."

Nick stopped speaking abruptly. Although I couldn't see him, I imagined Paul had gestured for him to let him continue;

"Sure Nick, all details we can work out in due course but we can sign now surely. And, well, let's just say I've laid on some extra special hospitality this weekend, just something between you and I, it will go no further and I hope, will persuade you to sign on the dotted line..."

In my position in the ante room, a few thoughts fell into place in my mind. I suddenly realised what function I was brought here for. I had a sickly combination of emotions as I strained every sinew to hear the conversation. Was I right - was I being traded in this weekend for a business deal? Was my husband openly prostituting me? Me, a business executive in my own right? Not only that, but a business woman several ladders higher up the corporate ladder than my husband and I assumed, this guy Nick. I had to close down my thoughts for now though as I listened in again...

"Sounds interesting Paul but...well, I don't quite follow, what exactly do you have in mind..?

"Well Nick, we're both men of the world and times are stressful. We all need some relief from the modern world from time to time. And, let me get straight to the point here, another customer of ours happens to be a...err..... let's call them an escort agency, and well, I've found us an escort for this evening who'll do a whole lot more than look good on your arm at a party..."

There was a long pause. Again I had to add in some imagined looks and body language, Nick was obviously deciding if he was going to take Paul up on the offer. As tactfully as Paul had put it, there was no doubt he was offering a weekend of fucking a prostitute in exchange for the signing of the big contract. It just so happened that I was increasingly certain the prostitute was me!

"Well, I didn't quite expect that sort of offer Paul, I must admit. It's a little unconventional. It's not an unattractive one but, well, I guess I'd like to see what's on offer first before I signed up to anything."

"Easier than you think Nick, the whore is already here. I think you'll find her worth every penny and when I say she'll do ANYTHING for you...."

"Really? Christ, you've thought this through I see! OK then, well err, let's take a look at what's on offer then!" said Nick, his voice reflecting his keen interest in this unexpected turn of events.

"Give me two minutes to make sure she's ready and I'll be right with you." Paul said, rising from his seat with a sense of purpose.

He walked over the few paces to the ante room and pushed passed the door to face me, closing the door behind him as he did so. I immediately confronted him angrily;

"Paul! I mean, what the fuck are you doing? You want me to be a common whore for you and some sleazy two-bit business guy?" I blurted.

Paul just looked at me and smiled nonchalantly. He walked over and kissed me, and as he caught me off guard, thrust his hand right down my knickers!

"What the f...mmmm...you doing....for fuck's sake....ahhhhh." The anger of his plan dissipating against his fingers which found my damp clit easily.

"I knew it. Come on Nat, you're absolutely soaking wet, you want this, just go with it. A weekend full of no strings fun, being bossed around by two guys. Just your thing isn't it?" Paul said, a crafty smile on his face, his hands wreaking havoc inside my soaked knickers a he spoke.

Fuck, he was right. Morally, on so many levels, I was totally outraged but I had that all too familiar feeling that I now crave, the sickly light headed, humiliating feeling of wanting to surrender myself body and soul to others and to let them use the hell out of me and humiliate me.

Paul looked at me. I didn't even say anything else, he could see in my eyes the answer. I didn't look him in the eyes. As a professional, respectable woman and let's face it, his wife(!) I was ashamed, embarrassed, outraged even. As a submissive slut, my dirty whorish cunt ached to be filled by them both as quickly as I could open my legs. All this before I'd even seen this other guy properly.

Paul knew me better than I did myself now it seemed. He knew he had won and won pathetically easily, he had hardly even needed any persuasion other than a hand down my knickers, what a slut I was quickly becoming;

"Thought so," he said, "You'll love this and I'll protect you of course. Our usual rules will apply so don't worry," he continued, as he pulled his hands out of my panties, adding at least a little warmth and reassurance into what was a terrifying situation for me. He continued;

"I assume you heard my chat with Nick. He doesn't know me outside of work so for this weekend you are most certainly not my wife. Your name is....Rosie. A good tart's name, wouldn't you say?" He laughed, I scowled. "And as you know already, you'll stay in this hotel room all weekend and you'll do exactly what either of us tell you to.

As far as he knows, you're a corporate whore who'll do anything we ask, you're my contract sweetener, be enthusiastic and give him anything he wants, look as though you're having fun servicing clients and it's what you do every day. It's vital that he's so happy that by the end of the weekend he signs that contract!"

I gave Paul a look of feigned outrage. Well, maybe not, I WAS outraged but I was also so turned on I struggled to stay on my feet. I amused myself gallows humour style by reflecting that that was just as well as I wasn't going to be on my feet very much by the sound of it, on my back and on my knees more like!

"Good," exclaimed Paul, clapping his hands together firmly, as he saw my silent confusion. "Don't put any more clothes on, you won't be needing them. I'll shout you through in about five minutes. As soon as you walk out remember, slut, paid whore. Enthusiastic, eager to please and earn your money whore."

With that he walked back out with a cheeky wink of his eye. I flumped back against the wall and took a deep, nervous breath. My pussy was on fire with lust at the thought of what he was asking but that feeling was accompanied by sweaty palms, jelly legs and dry mouth.

I knew by now I would do it, at least I would try but so many mixed emotions. The very thought that in five minutes I would be introduced as a virtual sex slave to a guy I had yet to even see by my own husband and not only that, I almost had an acting role to perform. No longer the suburban housewife and business executive, now a common tart for businessmen to fuck.

In the few minutes I had, I did the appropriate whore things, I tidied my hair, I adjusted my knickers that Paul had disturbed. If I'd have had any proper clothes on I'd have smoothed them back out. I looked in the mirror, Paul had planned this well, I looked every inch the willing whore. Black virtually see through basque, tiny knickers and black opaque seamed stockings and killer heels. I reeked of 'fuck me whenever you want' to Nick and I had no doubt he would. Terrifying, nervous wait...

"Rosie, you can come in now!" Paul shouted from the main bedroom.

I took a deep and nervous breath, my legs barely supported me over to the door, especially as I was unsteady in my heels and I wiggled unsteadily through to the main bedroom where my two 'clients' were waiting. I virtually stumbled into the room; I don't think I took a single breath while I was moving.

I hardly glanced at Nick, just enough to see a massive boyish grin on his face as he clapped eyes on me in my full slut attire, just enough to make my nipples harden a little as I realised he could easily see them already. The room was quite small and the two men were sitting on a chair each facing each other to the right of a King size bed.

I moved over to Paul and, realising the act had to start right this second, attempted a sultry 'fuck me I want your dick' smile and look. Paul smiled back and patted his knee paternally to indicate I was to sit on his lap. I did so, lowering myself onto him and looking him in the eye as I made contact with what was already a bulging hard on beneath me.

As I sat on his lap, I put my left hand on his shoulder. He leaned in to kiss me and we kissed slowly and sensually, his tongue probing my nervous mouth quickly.

"So, this is Rosie," Paul said, breaking the kiss quickly and turning to Nick. As he did so, Paul moved his hands over to my basque. My boobs were practically bursting out anyway, but without even a word, he pulled the basque down causing my tits to bounce into full view. I almost panicked and motioned to cover myself but remembered in time. I grimaced inside, blushed visibly and I couldn't help but glance over to Nick whose eyes were on stalks as he stared at my exposed jugs.

Paul looked at Nick with a self-satisfied smile, pleased with the demonstration of my complete and easy availability. The smile said to me 'isn't my wife hot' which Nick would of course interpret as 'Haven't I done well, getting you a hot slut like her." He was determined to humiliate me too. He looked me deep in the eyes and said;

"Lovely tits Rosie, now let's have a look at this cunt we've bought! Stand up for me and get those knickers off!" I looked at him shocked and went cold but at the same time I stood up mechanically. Looking from guy to guy quickly in turn, I slid my hands in the tiny waistband of my knickers and slid them to the floor, rolling them over my stockings."

"Oh yes, I love a shaved snatch!" Nick shouted. Paul smiled at him and motioned at me to turn around. I did so, feeling the heat of embarrassment on my face as both guys surveyed my arse. Paul actually leaned across to me and ran his hands over my arse cheeks before taking my hand and pushing me into him, removing what was left of my basque and positioning me back on his lap. I sat on him virtually naked with my legs closed but he was having none of that and pushed my legs as far apart as I could manage so Nick opposite me could see straight up my wet pussy.

"Do we have a deal then Nick, is the merchandise acceptable?" Paul said, chuckling and revelling in this power trip and my humiliating predicament.

"The slut is fucking awesome Paul, well done! What do I get in return for this contract though, what's the deal?" I noticed to my further embarrassment that even as he spoke to Paul, his eyes never left my midriff as he helped himself to a free view of my completely exposed tits and pussy, my legs still wrapped in my thigh high slut stockings.

As awkward as this felt, my nipples were like bullets and my pussy throbbed. I was already revelling in my latest humiliation, I already had mental images of what was about to happen and I could scarcely believe that possibly only seven minutes after first seeing this guy, I was facing him in nothing but black stockings and heels, allowing him an easy view of my tits and cunt.

As I took this in, it was the first opportunity I had to look at Paul in any detail. I confess, I liked what I saw physically. He was over six foot, quite broad chested and manly and his body had a rugged manly look not always present in office guys.

His appearance I liked a little less, he had that orangey sunbed skin favoured by the vain and had slick, gelled back hair which was so jet black it had to have come out of a bottle as he seemed approaching his forties. He had a sovereign ring on two of his fingers that to me represented fake, plastic shallowness and his expression and manner was of a guy who thought he was God's gift to women and we should all be thankful he was alive. Unfortunately, for this weekend, it seemed I would have to pretend to agree with him and pander to all of his shallow delusions.

"The deal is two days of this!" said Paul. As he did so, he shocked and amazed me by thrusting two fingers inside my cunt. I closed my eyes and opened my legs further, out of surprise and arousal, wrapping my arms around Paul's neck. Paul fingered me roughly as he explained the deal to Nick;

"You see mate, I've had this whore before. There's never been a whore more suited to her occupation than good old Rosie here!" I opened my eyes and tried to scowl at his disrespectful words but I was so turned on with all of this, I knew I would come soon right there and then in front of a guy I still hadn't even spoken to. Paul continued;