The Company Whore 
   
  
Chapter 1: Early Days
   
  Although I am known now as Rita, I was born Martha.  I 
was raised in a very strict small town religious 
community.  From the age of 6 until well after my 
marriage, I had always covered my head with a scarf or 
bonnet when in the presence of any men outside of my 
family.
   
  From my early teens, I was embarrassed and ashamed of my 
body. I was taught from young that a woman's body was to 
be kept hidden as the source of all evil.  But mine was 
difficult to hide!  I reached my adult height of 1.78m 
(5ft 10in) at the age of 12, and towered over my 
friends. With my broad shoulders and hips, some would 
call me statuesque, but I was only conscious of rude 
remarks from class-mates.  Even worse, I developed these 
huge tits, already D-cup by age 14.  My embarrassment 
with my body was aggravated by the lewd comments that I 
overheard from boys. To cap it all, I have these broad 
aureolae which harden into centimetre long points at the 
least arousal. I had to pack my already huge bras with 
cotton wool to avoid my points being visible to all.
   
  After completing school, I was sent to a bible school 
for young ladies that also taught some basic secretarial 
skills.  We were being prepared for lives as wives and 
mothers, with secretarial skills seen as helpful while 
waiting for marriage.
   
  On my return from college, I met up with Barry.  He was 
about five years older than I, and had been a member of 
our community before going away to train as a 
draughtsman.  He would say little about his time away, 
except to hint that he had slipped from the faith for a 
while, but was now eager to make amends.
   
  My parents made it clear that they thought he would be a 
suitable match for me.  Six months after my return we 
were engaged, and the wedding date was set for four 
months later, just after my 21st birthday.
   
  Our courtship was very chaste.  When we became engaged, 
Barry confessed to me his period of sin.  Through bad 
influence of friends, he had been led into drinking and 
into immoral acts with some girls.  He had been seduced 
into sex with one of these girls, whom he made pregnant. 
 It turned out that she was under 16 at the time.  Her 
parents agreed not to lay charges against him if he 
turned over all his savings to cover medical bills and 
raising the child, and if he left the city to have no 
more contact with her.  That was when he had returned 
home.  He believed God had forgiven him, and asked my 
forgiveness, but this was why he could not trust himself 
to any physical contact until after we were married.  I 
forgave and agreed!
   
  Our honeymoon was a bit of a disaster!  I was 
inexperienced and fearful.  Barry was too anxious and 
came almost before he was properly in me.  I hardly felt 
anything except the pain.  During the next months, it 
got better, but was still done under the covers.  I 
loved having my tits played with, but Barry only obliged 
for a few minutes.  He still came too quickly to really 
satisfy me, and I learnt to bring myself off with my 
fingers, at which I felt terribly guilty.
   
  We had decided not to use any artificial contraception, 
as this was against the teachings of the church.  In 
truth, I looked forward to having a baby, which would at 
least make sense of the wide hips and large breasts I 
had been given by God. A year passed without my falling 
pregnant.  My parents started asking awkward questions. 
I was becoming worried.  A visit to the gynaecologist 
could find no problem, and she suggested that Barry 
should have a sperm count done.  Barry was angry at the 
very suggestion that he was to blame, and reminded me 
that he had sired a child.  I must be at fault.
   
  Over the next couple of years, I slowly came to terms 
with the idea that I was barren, and felt guilty that I 
could not give Barry a son and heir.  At times I felt 
angry at the God who would curse me with my body and not 
even allow me to fulfil its apparent destiny.
   
  We did gradually slip away from the rigidity of my home 
church group, and we joined a more relaxed (but still 
pretty conservative) church.  I felt quite liberated 
when I stopped wearing my head scarf (with Barry's 
agreement, of course). 
   
  I was encouraged to join the young married women's 
group, and was amazed at how openly they discussed sex. 
The discussion was still extremely mild, but was enough 
to have me blushing continuously.
   
  A major theme in the group was keeping your man happy so 
that he would not be tempted to stray.  I learned from 
them to use make-up, and to wear slightly more modish 
clothes.  I felt so exposed when I first wore a skirt 
showing my knees and a top hinting at a slight cleavage.
   
  One of the girls in the group gave me a sex instruction 
manual.  Barry looked quite embarrassed when I first 
wore a brief transparent negligee.  He submitted to my 
sucking his cock, but would not reciprocate by eating me 
out.  He also seemed uncomfortable when I tried to ride 
him on top.  In spite of his reticence, however, I did 
find myself enjoying sex more, but did also fantasize 
about the even more adventurous ideas in the manual.  I 
also began reading some racy novels, and began 
fantasizing about being dragged off and ravished by a 
large handsome man.
   
  But nothing further would probably have happened if it 
were not for the crisis that confronted us shortly 
before our 5th wedding anniversary ...
   
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
   
  The steel works for which Barry worked, and which was 
the largest employer in our town, closed down.  There 
was huge unemployment, and Barry could find no work.  We 
were desperate.
   
  An uncle of Barry's found him an opening in the city 
where he lived, quite a long way from our home town.  
The position was with a small speciality engineering 
works who needed a draughtsman to prepare drawings for 
clients and to do cost estimates.  They were prepared to 
hire Barry on six months probation, after which the post 
would become permanent.  We were terrified of such a 
major move away from our support base, but there seemed 
no alternative.
   
  Barry seemed to cope well with the demands of the new 
job, however, and his new salary was much more than we 
were used to.  We decided to risk a large mortgage, and 
to buy our own apartment.  We felt quite wealthy and 
worldly.
   
  The one cloud in the sky was that I felt distinctly 
uncomfortable at the frequent company social events that 
we were expected to attend. The company owner, Stan, was 
large and macho, and delighted in making sexual 
innuendoes.  He was prone to put his arm around my 
waist, squeezing me tightly against him.  Other senior 
members of the staff tended to follow his example, and I 
wasn't sure how to react.  My upbringing said this was 
wrong, but I found myself strangely turned on, and was 
dismayed to feel my nipples harden at their touch.  
Barry looked uncomfortable, but with a red face urged me 
not to react too strongly, as it could damage his 
prospects.  I'm not sure if it was my imagination, but 
Barry seemed more passionate when we got home after 
these work socials.
   
  I was also confused by the role and behaviour of the 
company's receptionist-cum-PRO, Fiona.  It seemed that 
she had been married to a former accounts clerk in the 
company, but they had divorced and he had moved away.  
She wore very short skirts and low cut tops, revealing a 
large tattoo of a snake (the company logo) coiled round 
her left breast, and flirted openly with all the men 
(Barry included).  On a number of occasions I saw her 
sitting on a guy's lap, with her arms around his neck, 
as she smooched with him.  Once or twice I was even sure 
I saw their hands inside her top.  At times she would 
disappear from the party completely for a while.  I 
tried to ask Barry about her, but he became embarrassed 
and I dropped the subject.
   
  It was Fiona who decided that the name `Martha' was too 
religious and austere, and somehow modified it to Rita. 
 The others in the company soon fell into using this 
name, so Rita I became.
   
  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Soon after Barry joined the company, Stan told him that 
he was expected to join the fortnightly Friday night 
poker evening for the company `leadership group', which 
consisted of Stan and his partner Louis; Steve, the 
chief draughtsman, who was Barry's immediate boss; the 
two workshop foremen (Gene and Harry); the chief 
accountant (Dave); and the marketing manager (Paddy). 
Stan considered these games to have a team-building 
function. 
   
  Barry initially told me little of what happened at these 
poker nights, but I quickly realized that he had become 
quite hooked on the game, and was risking quite large 
amounts of money.  Fortunately, he learned quickly and 
had a natural flair, so that there were no great losses 
to raise my suspicions at this time.
   
  Each poker night was held at a different home, with the 
relevant wife or partner acting as hostess, serving 
drinks and snacks.  Where there was no wife or partner, 
Fiona would stand in.  In the third month of his 
probationary period, Barry was told it was our turn and 
that I would have to be hostess.
   
  I asked what I should wear, but Barry was not helpful.  
I bought an elegant pair of slacks and a sleeveless, but 
otherwise modest blouse that buttoned up the front.  I 
fastened all the buttons.  I bought a new lacy bra, as 
the blouse was faintly translucent, and felt quite 
wicked.  
   
  Soon after the game was under way, Stan followed me into 
the kitchen, and put his arm around me.
   
  "You look very pretty, my dear, in a virginal sort of 
way.  But it seems that Barry didn't tell you that we 
expect our hostesses to be a little more revealing and 
sexy.  What are you hiding?"
   
  I blushed. "Wh.. Wh.. What do you mean?" I stammered.
   
  "I prefer a woman in a short skirt.  And I've seen your 
legs .. they are worth displaying.  And your tits!  Even 
hidden in your blouses they are to die for.  We all want 
to see more of them."
   
  "Stan, please, you shouldn't talk like that.  I'm a 
happily married woman" I gasped out in increasing 
confusion.
   
  "In this company, we share our assets.  Barry won't mind 
showing you off, or he had better not!" (said with a 
hint of threat in his voice).
   
  "Here, let me make some adjustments", Stan went on.
   
  Before I could stop him, Stan started undoing most of 
the buttons on my top, leaving only a couple of buttons 
to keep my bra largely hidden apart from some 
tantalizing lace.  Lower down, my belly button was on 
open display for the first time in my life.
   
  "I can't go out like this", I wailed, blushing furiously 
and feeling almost naked in front of him.  But even as I 
protested, I had a feeling of excitement fluttering in 
my stomach; I had a strange tingle in my pussy which was 
juicing up as it did in anticipation of love making, and 
my nipples firmed to full hardness.
   
  Then to my even greater embarrassment, Stan slipped a 
hand into my bra.  I knew I should resist, but couldn't. 
 
   
  "What's this" he asked, extracting the usual cotton wool 
padding over my by now rock hard nipples, and dropped 
them in the garbage.  "You don't need padding, surely!" 
 I was terribly conscious of the two points prominently 
showing through my thin blouse.
   
  He put a hand back on to my breast, playing with the 
nipple, and said: "Inside here is a hot sensuous woman 
trying to get out!  You will enjoy walking out there, 
and having the men admiring you.  Why don't you have a 
drink to settle your nerves?!"
   
  There was an open bottle of wine on the table.  He 
poured a full glass and offered it to me.
   
  I hesitated.  I had been brought up teetotal, and there 
never before this party been drink in my house. Barry 
had said we would have to provide drinks.  I drained the 
glass and marvelled at the warm feeling it gave me.  I 
found myself smiling at Stan.
   
  Stan pulled me to him, and kissed me full on the mouth. 
"That's better", he said. "Now get out there and do your 
thing".
   
  And so I did.  For the rest of the evening, I moved 
between the men, feeling half-naked.  When I bent over, 
I was sure the men could all see my tits in full.  Many 
of them felt my ass and tits as I passed, and to my 
dismay, I remained in a state of high arousal.  At 
times, I felt Barry's eyes on me, but it was hard to 
make out what he was thinking.
   
  Each time I visited the kitchen, I would have another 
bit of wine to calm my nerves, so that by the end of the 
evening I was rather tipsy and giggly.  One or other of 
the guys would often come into the kitchen to `help' me, 
and would take the opportunity to feel me up, usually 
cupping a tit and kissing me open mouthed. 
   
  After the others had left, Barry did comment that I had 
revealed a lot of skin, but did not question me about 
Stan's role.  I think he guessed.  Whatever his 
thoughts, we had some of the hottest sex of our married 
life that night, and I realized that he had been turned 
on by my mild exhibitionism, just as much as I was.
   
  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
It was the very next week that I discovered porn sites 
on the internet.  Shortly after he had started at the 
new job, Barry had acquired a computer to use at home, 
and had taught me to browse the web.  I was idly playing 
around when the system autocompleted a strange web 
address.  An adult site came up, but required a username 
and password to enter, so that I could not go further, 
but this led me to examine other addresses in the 
history that Barry must have forgotten to clear.  I soon 
found a free site, an open amateur site, with pictures 
of women naked at parties, in public bars, and even 
walking along the street!
   
  These pictures really turned me on.  I imagined myself 
naked in front of Barry's workmates, or walking outside, 
and felt aroused.  Over the next week or two, I 
revisited the site every day.  I took to walking around 
the house in the nude, often sipping some wine at the 
same time, and was so turned on that I ended up 
masturbating myself to orgasm.  Each time, I would have 
guilt feelings, but the next day I'd do it again, 
imagining Stan and others watching me.
   
  About two weeks later I found a piece of paper in 
Barry's trouser pocket.  I recognized the name of one of 
the adult web sites, and there were some other codes 
that I guessed were a user name and password.  I tried 
it and I was in!  I was hooked immediately.  Most of the 
pages had movie clips or galleries, usually of girls 
having sex with multiple partners, and this further fed 
my fantasies.  I not only fantasized about being naked 
in front of Barry's workmates, but about being violated 
by them.
   
  I was also fascinated by the sizes of cocks on display. 
Of course, Barry's was the only one I had seen (except 
for baby boys).  I had thought his huge, but I could 
close my hand around it, and it was only about a third 
longer than my palm width.  It was clear that I would 
need both hands to grasp some of the monster organs in 
the pictures, and would never be able to close my hands 
around them.  I wondered how they could fit into any 
woman's vagina, and how it would feel to have my cunny 
so filled.
   
  Shortly afterwards, I found an adult supplies site, and 
ordered a large black artificial cock and a vibrator to 
be delivered COD.  I soon became hooked on fucking 
myself with these toys, as part of my fantasies.
   
  In spite of my fantasies, however, I remained an 
essentially faithful and outwardly conventional wife up 
to the next time we hosted a poker party, about six 
weeks before the end of Barry's probationary period. 
This was the start of a new life!
   
  A few days before the party, Barry, in a rather shame-
faced and hesitant manner, passed on a message from Stan 
to the effect that he expected me to dress in a `much 
more sexy' manner.
   
  "What would that mean?", I asked innocently, although 
inwardly I had butterflies thinking about my fantasies 
getting closer to reality.
   
  "The other hostesses tend to wear very short skirts and 
low-cut tops", Barry answered with a gulp.  "Some of the 
girls don't even wear bras, so that you can see almost 
everything". He coloured bright red as he spoke.
   
  "Surely you don't look!", I teased, and then went on: 
"So do you want me to parade around nearly naked in 
front of your colleagues?"
   
  Barry looked almost in tears.  "I'm sure you don't have 
to go as far as some of the others.  But I don't want to 
upset the management so soon before the end of my 
probation".
   
  Barry would not be much help, but I determined to find 
something to wear that would fuel my fantasies.  I 
settled on a tight black miniskirt coming to mid thigh, 
a filmy black crop top with spaghetti straps and 
stopping not much below my bra.  I had to buy a 
strapless support bra, and looking in a mirror I 
observed that when I leaned forward the tops of my 
aureolae were definitely visible.  My outfit was 
completed by a pair of mid-calf high high-heeled patent 
leather boots.
   
  I had quite a few glasses of wine before our guests 
arrived, and was quite relaxed by that time.  During the 
evening, at least half the guys had their hands on my 
tits.  (Yes, in my mind, they were now tits not 
breasts!)  On a couple of occasions, Stan openly ran his 
hands up my thighs.  I'm sure that some of the guys saw 
my panties, and probably even his fingers probing into 
my sex.
   
  "The sensuous woman is definitely emerging" he whispered 
to me with a smile, "and it won't be long before she is 
completely out in the open."  He was right: By the end 
of the evening my panties were soaked with my juices, 
and on a number of occasions I wished he would rip my 
clothes off in front of everyone.  When the party was 
over, I nearly raped Barry!
   
  The one disappointment of that weekend was that my 
period came on the Saturday when I still felt as if I 
needed more love-making!  I always cursed my periods 
which tended to be quite heavy ... it was especially 
unfair that when I couldn't have babies I still had to 
suffer this nuisance.
   
  When Barry returned from work on Monday evening, I could 
see immediately that he was upset.  He conveyed another 
request to me.  The company was having a cocktail party 
the next Friday evening, and they wanted me to come in 
to help Fiona as waitress.
   
  "That's OK", I said, "I'm getting used to being with 
your mates".
   
  Barry swallowed visibly.  "They want you to wear some 
French maid's outfit, the same as Fiona ... and you know 
how she dresses".
   
  I giggled.  "Well I showed enough skin on Friday night ... 
a little more won't matter!"
   
  I was a little less sure of myself when I went in to the 
office on the Wednesday to be fitted for my outfit!  The 
fitting was organized by Steve's wife Sheila, a rather 
busty woman of about 50.  The little black skirt, with 
an attached frilly white apron, was shorter than most 
tennis skirts I had seen.  Furthermore, it wrapped over 
at the back, leaving a split that would have the bottom 
of my panties on continual display.  I was warned by 
Sheila to find myself nice frilly black panties.
   
  An immediate concern was my rather lush pubic hair 
(another of the gripes I had with my body).  Thick black 
woolly hair filled the full V up to the top of my hips, 
covered my crack completely, and spread on to the tops 
of my inner thighs and into my arse crack.  With the 
maid's outfit, much of this hair would be visible at 
times, and I commented to Sheila about needing to trim 
my pubic hair considerably.  She and Fiona laughed, and 
told me not to touch it ... Stan was known to like hairy 
women.  In fact, they said, "don't shave your armpits 
either!"
   
  This last was a relevant comment, as the tops we had to 
wear were even more revealing! It was nothing more than 
a long scarf of black chiffon, wrapped from my back to 
cross over my tits in front, and finally fastened round 
my neck in halter style. I clearly couldn't wear a bra 
with it.  Sheila reassured me that in spite of their 
size, my boobs showed little sag.  Not long back, I had 
worried about my nipple points showing, but with this 
outfit, the outline of my aureolae would be on clear 
display.
   
  The outfit was completed by black fishnet stockings held 
up by a garter belt round my hips.  The tops of the 
stockings were clearly visible under my skirt.  Sheila 
took me out to buy black sandals with higher heels than 
I had ever warn, which would leave me towering over 
virtually all the men.  The shoes were charged to the 
company account.
   
  Sheila took the outfit away with her to make some minor 
adjustments, so that Barry only saw it when I changed at 
the office on Friday evening.  The look on his face was 
priceless, and his eyes looked like popping out.  For 
myself, I had to settle my nerves with a couple of quick 
drinks.
   
  There must have been 25-30 men at the party, served by 
just Fiona and myself, with Sheila hovering in the 
background.  Hands were all over me, all the time. Most 
of the time I was holding a tray so that I could not 
push the hands away as they pinched my nipples and 
fondled my tits through or under the top.  I lost count 
within the first hour of how many times I had fingers 
probing my pussy. 
   
  About 30 minutes into the party, there was a cheer from 
a group of men in a far corner.  One of the guests broke 
away from the group, and gave a card to Fiona.  She put 
down her tray, kissed him full on the mouth, and turned 
to me to say: "Hold the fort girl; I need to slip out 
for a while".  With that she slipped her arm through his 
and they disappeared towards the back of the building.
   
  When they returned 20 minutes later, I had no further 
doubt.  They had had sex, and Fiona clearly saw this as 
part of her duties ... She was the company whore!
   
  During the next hour, she disappeared twice more with 
other men.  My pussy tingled at the thought of casually 
fucking (yes this word came to mind) strange men.
   
  Shortly after she returned with the third guy, Fiona and 
I were asked to do a dance routine in the middle of the 
circle of men.  As we rotated around, Fiona suddenly 
undid the halter neck tie, and threw her top into the 
crowd.
   
  I wasn't sure what to do.  There were calls for me to do 
the same.  One part of me wanted to expose myself, but 
my upbringing still left me scared to go that far.
   
  When we reached home much later, I asked Barry what he 
would have thought if I, too, had gone topless. He was 
evasive, but it was clear that he was as hugely turned 
by the thought as I was, and we fucked there and then in 
the living room where we were talking.
   
  
   ***************
   
  Chapter 2: Forced into Whoredom
   
  We had a passionate weekend.  I remained naked while 
indoors, doing this for the first time while Barry was 
there. 
   
  But on Monday evening when Barry reached home he was 
strangely distracted, and resisted my advances saying he 
did not feel well.  This frustrated me, as I had spent 
all day naked, viewing porn on the computer, and 
fantasy-fucking myself with my toys.  I needed to be 
fucked properly.
   
  After Barry left for work the next day, I stripped and 
was just building myself up to a self-induced orgasm 
when at about 9.30 the doorbell rang.
   
  I cursed, hastily slipped on a short housecoat, missing 
quite a few buttons, and went to see who was there.  It 
was Stan, carrying a bottle of champagne and a large 
brown envelope.
   
  "What are you doing here?  Is there something wrong?" I 
stammered out.
   
  He smiled. "Aren't you going to invite me in?  I wanted 
to thank you properly for your help on Friday and to 
offer you a proposal."
   
  As we reached the living room, he held out the bottle 
and said: "Get some glasses.  This is our thanks and 
also celebration of the emergence of the sensual woman".
   
  He had the bottle open when I returned, and poured for 
us.  I dimly noticed that he poured much more into my 
glass than into his, but I was also nervous at the 
proximity of a sexy man when I was so scantily clad.  
Looking down, I now noticed how much cleavage I was 
showing, and that the coat was unbuttoned from the 
bottom almost into my crotch.
   
  Stan made himself comfortable on a couch, and gestured 
for me to sit next to him.
   
  I knew I was playing with fire, but did as he indicated. 
 He slipped an arm round my shoulder, and his hand 
started creeping under my house coat.
   
  "I could see you were enjoying yourself on Friday!  I 
felt how wet your panties were, and I know you wanted to 
throw off your top like Fiona."
   
  I stammered out some unconvincing denial, which Stan 
ignored as he continued: "How would you like for this to 
be your full-time job?"
   
  "What do you mean?"
   
  "Fiona is leaving us at the end of the week.  A wealthy 
client has offered to marry her and to give her a life 
of luxury.  He knows full well what her job entailed - 
she entertained him quite a few times - but wants to 
take her away from it all and to have a glamorous wife 
for his business entertainment."
   
  "We can't, won't stand in her way", Stan added. "But the 
company needs another pro [he pronounced it that way, 
and not as P.R.O.] as soon as possible.  Company morale 
depends on it.  We think you are just the girl".
   
  "But I d-d-d-d-on't know whether I could do what she 
does.  I kn-kn-know that she has s-s-s-sex with your 
clients.  I am just a simple housewife" I stammered out, 
but at the same time something inside was becoming 
aroused at the thought.
   
  Stan undid all the buttons on my housecoat, and slipped 
it down off my shoulders.  My mind screamed at me to 
resist, but I felt powerless, as if I was watching 
myself from far off.  For the first time in my adult 
life, I was naked and vulnerable in front of a man not 
my husband.
   
  He massaged my huge tits and pulled on my nipples.  "I 
have watched you, and I know women.  You are by nature a 
whore in spite of having that nature suppressed by your 
upbringing.  You want to expose yourself to men.  You 
want to seek fulfilment in satisfying their desires.  
Your whole body was built for this role.  I'm just 
seeking to liberate you, to find your destiny".
   
  I should have been offended these lewd assertions, but 
somehow it increased my arousal.  I wanted to be treated 
as a sex object.
   
  Stan leaned over and suckled on my breast, sucking my 
engorged nipple deep into his mouth.  From far off, I 
heard myself moan in delight at the sensation.  His hand 
ran across my belly and entered my pubic bush.  Two 
fingers found their way into my willing hole, while the 
thumb rubbed my love button.  My moans of ecstasy grew 
louder.
   
  His lips left my breast and followed where his hands had 
been across my belly, taking time to lick into my belly 
button.  And then his head was in my crotch.  His lips 
found my clit and he suckled on that. Within minutes I 
had reached a screaming orgasm.
   
  Stan stood up and quickly stripped.  I knew now that I 
was giving myself to him willingly, the first of many 
lovers.  As his rigid shaft emerged, so much longer and 
fatter than Barry's, I took it lovingly in my hand and 
licked on the end sticking out of his uncircumcised 
foreskin.  I savoured the taste of precum.
   
  He took my legs and spreadeagled them so that my 
womanhood was blatantly exposed to him.  He rubbed the 
head of his cock up and down my slit, and then suddenly 
slammed inwards to fill me as never before.  I screamed!
   
  As he set up a fast but steady rhythm of thrusts into 
me, I came again and again.  I had never experienced 
such sensations, and I knew I wanted to experience them 
many more times.  This was a whole new world from 
Barry's ineffective fucking and masturbation with my 
toys.  I wrapped my long muscular legs around Stan's 
bottom to draw him in ever more deeply.
   
  He seemed to go on for ever, but I suppose it could not 
have been much more than 10 minutes before I felt his 
buttocks tighten.  Then I felt the warm sensation as his 
sperm flooded my womb.
   
  In the post-coital aftermath, I did suffer some guilt 
feelings.  I had betrayed Barry and my marriage vows.  
Tears of sadness welled up in my eyes.
   
  Stan noticed, and said: "What's this didn't you enjoy 
it?"
   
  "You bastard", I wailed. "You know I enjoyed it too 
much.  But I have been unfaithful to Barry and my 
promises to him, and how will I face him again?"
   
  "Ah, yes, Barry.  I brought something to show you."
   
  Stan poured me another glass of champagne, and reached 
for the large envelope.  He extracted a set of 
photographs and spread them before me.
   
  The first few were of Barry together with Fiona in 
various sex positions, sucking and fucking.  I suppose I 
should have realized that he would have had 
opportunities with the company whore!  But then, I found 
a few more of Barry with what seemed a young teenage 
girl.
   
  "Who's that", I asked.
   
  Stan laughed. "She is Lara, actually 18 and a full time 
prostitute, but Barry thinks she is a 15 year old niece 
of Steve's. You will remember that last month he had 
some overtime work at Steve's home?  Steve was called 
out a few times, leaving Barry on his own with Lara.  
She seduced him, and these pictures were obtained from a 
hidden camera."
   
  "Barry has been told", Stan continued, "that Lara is 
pregnant and that her parents are trying to find out who 
the father is, so that they can charge him for sex with 
a minor.  Barry knows we have these pictures, and has 
been threatened that we'll show them to you, to Lara's 
parents and to the police if he does not cooperate fully 
with us."
   
  "Cooperate in what?"  I asked
   
  "Well, at least not to stand in the way of your becoming 
the company PRO/whore!"
   
  "But surely he would never expect me to agree", I 
countered.
   
  "We've thought of that! We'll make him think that he has 
forced you into it. He'll tell you tonight that we have 
had to relocate this week's poker game and that we'll 
come to your place.  And that we want you to wear the 
same outfit you wore at last Friday's cocktail.  You'll 
resist a little, but will agree!  At the game, he will 
have to gamble wildly and lose heavily, until he is 
badly in debt.  Then he'll get a good hand with a chance 
to recover, but we won't allow him more credit.  Then 
we'll relent and offer him the chance of putting a 
signed contract for you to take Fiona's place into the 
pot.  He will have to get you to agree. And of course he 
will lose ... we have some good card sharps who can 
organize any hand!"
   
  "Oh you devious bastard", I countered.
   
  "But you'll do it", Stan laughed, half as question and 
half as statement of fact.
   
  "I don't know" I said, but felt a tingle in my pussy and 
a hardening of my nipples, and I knew inside that I 
would.
   
  He leaned over and sucked one of those nipples into his 
mouth, as his hand found the magic button between my 
leg.
   
  "Noooooo, Noooooooo" I cried unconvincingly, betrayed by 
my own body as I came over his fingers.
   
  He gently moved me so that I was kneeling on the floor, 
leaning over the couch.  He moved behind me, pushed my 
legs apart, and slammed his once more rigid organ into 
my very receptive cunt.  As he set up a rhythm, one hand 
played with my nipples, alternating between the two, 
while the other rubbed my clit.  I am surprised that the 
neighbours did not come to investigate as I'm sure my 
screams would have woken the dead.  Certainly, I came 
three or four times, more strongly than I had ever done 
with Barry, before I felt Stan tense as he pumped his 
fluids into by welcoming pussy.
   
  When we were done, I collapsed in total relaxation on to 
the couch.  Stan got up, dressed and kissed me gently on 
the head. "Rest well, doll ... I'll send someone around on 
Thursday to fill you in on the final details".  And with 
that he left.
   
  I slept for about an hour. For the rest of the day, I 
alternated between feelings of guilt and determination 
not to violate my marriage vows again (perhaps Barry 
should resign and we'll go away), and fantasizing over a 
promiscuous life style in which I was a sex toy for 
hordes of men.
   
  Barry spoke to me almost as soon as he came home.  He 
was clearly very embarrassed at having to ask me to host 
the party that week, and scared that I would refuse.  I 
made it easy on him by airily agreeing.  Then he brought 
up the matter of my outfit.  I gave him a hard time on 
that for a few hours ... making him almost beg.  
Eventually, just before bed, I conceded: "Well if you 
want your wife to go around nearly naked in front of 
your colleagues, letting them feel me up whenever they 
want, I suppose I must accept."
   
  Barry was almost in tears by then.  "I'm sure they will 
behave themselves", he mumbled unconvincingly.
   
  Through Wednesday and Thursday morning, I continued to 
have mixed feelings, but increasingly I knew I would do 
it.  I masturbated with my toys, reliving over and over 
again my time with Stan, and imagining Barry's other 
workmates using me.
   
  Just after lunch on Thursday, the doorbell rang. It was 
the company delivery truck driver, Len - very large 
(towering well over me) and very black!  He had my 
outfit with him.  I invited him in for a drink, and he 
confirmed arrangements for the following night, just as 
Stan had outlined.
   
  Len pulled me to my feet, and kissed me passionately 
with a lot of tongue.  My body responded instantly.  He 
found the zip of my light summer dress, which instantly 
fell to the floor, leaving me only in panties (as I had 
been braless) and bare-footed.
   
  Without a word, Len threw me over his shoulder and 
carried me to the bedroom.  He pulled the covers on to 
the floor, and dropped me on to the sheet.  He grabbed 
at my panties as I fell, and they simply tore into 
pieces. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his trousers 
to reveal a monstrous prick, as big as any I had seen on 
the porn pictures, and black as ebony.
   
  With no foreplay, Len dropped on top of my prone body 
and in one swift lunge, slammed that huge tool into my 
pussy.  Fortunately, I was already pretty lubricated, 
but even so I shrieked in some pain as he entered me.  
But quite soon, I adjusted to his size and was thrusting 
back at him almost as hard as he pushed into me.  It was 
not too long before Len uttered a loud grunt and 
unloaded his jism into my womb.
   
  Almost immediately, Len extracted his cock and then 
swung me around with my face in his crotch.  He pushed 
my face down on to his prick, still wet with my juices 
and leaking cum. "Suck me hard again, bitch" he growled.
   
  This rough treatment had my pussy juices working 
overtime, and I willingly sucked his enormous tool into 
my mouth, using my hands on the bottom end of the shaft 
that would not fit in my mouth, and on his gigantic ball 
sack.  
   
  "Oh yes, you're going to be a great company whore", he 
grunted.
   
  Amazingly, within minutes he was getting obviously hard 
and erect again.  My experience with Barry was that once 
he had come, I could get nothing more out of him for 
hours.
   
  As soon as he was erect again, Len positioned me on my 
hands and knees and entered me doggy style.  Once more, 
he showed no interest in stimulating me ... he was just 
using my pussy as a receptacle for his dong.  And yet, I 
needed no stimulation!  The sawing of that huge organ in 
and out of my pussy had me climaxing like the bitch in 
heat that I evidently was.  Len lasted much longer now, 
and it must have been 20 minutes at least before once 
again his seed was filling my womb.  By then I was also 
fully satisfied, for the time being at least.
   
  Once he was done, Len climbed off, slapped me hard on 
the arse, and said "See you soon again, missy!"
   
  I lay for a while where I was for probably another 20 
minutes after he had gone.  When I did get up, I 
realized that the sheets were quite wet from his semen. 
 But this was all on Barry's side of the bed, so I just 
pulled the covers back on.  It gave me a bit of a thrill 
to think that Barry would be lying that night on the cum 
left by my adulterous lover.
   
  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
And so to that Friday night!
   
  I bought myself a flimsy pair of G-string panties to 
wear under the French maid outfit. There was no point in 
putting too many obstacles in anyone's way!
   
  Before the others came, Barry was so tense, he hardly 
spoke.  I, on the other hand, had quite a few drinks and 
was quite giggly by the time I greeted our first guests.
   
  The game was soon under way.  Barry won a few good 
hands, but then started losing heavily.  The others 
extended him credit so that he could get more chips.  
For a while he won again, and then lost a few big hands.
   
  It was a little after 10pm, when I realized that the 
crisis point was near.  Barry, Stan and Paddy were the 
only three left in the hand, and the pot was getting 
large.  But then Barry had nothing more to match the 
pot.  He had been told what he had to do in this case, 
and nervously he played his part (thinking it was for my 
benefit).
   
  "Give me just a little more credit, guys", he pleaded.
   
  Stan seemed unsympathetic: "Sorry, guy.  You are already 
in debt for your next month's salary ... you can't repay 
even that".
   
  "What?!", I screamed in mock horror. "How can you do 
that you idiot?  What will live on? What about the 
mortgage payments?"
   
  Barry whined: "Please ... Just enough to see you guys.  
I'm sure I have a hand to beat you both!"
   
  Stan seemed to muse for a while.  "Well, if you're 
really that confident ... I have an idea.  Let's put a 
contract in the pot, for Rita to become our PRO and 
entertainments officer.  If you win, you take the pot.  
If you lose, we'll write off your debts, but the 
contract stands".
   
  "OK, I'll do it", Barry almost whispered.
   
  "Not so fast", said Stan.  "We also need Rita's 
agreement".
   
  I saw Barry glancing at me with a worried look.  
Innocently, I said: "I don't understand.  What is this 
contract?"
   
  Stan turned to Barry: "We'll give you 5 minutes to 
explain to Rita, and then we want an answer."
   
  Barry gestured to me to follow him to the kitchen. 
"Darling", he said, "this is a terrible thing to ask.  
But I've got a virtually unbeatable hand - four aces - 
and I need to recoup my losses.  All you have to do is 
to agree that if I lose - which I'm sure I won't - you 
will take Fiona's place, as she is leaving".
   
  I almost giggled at the look on Barry's face.  He was 
gulping and had coloured bright red.  I played innocent: 
"I'm not sure what the job involves".
   
  "You would need to be receptionist, and hostess rather 
like last Friday, and also help to entertain clients 
often at evening dinners and so on."
   
  "A lot of the guys let their hands wander rather all 
over me and Fiona last week.  And I noticed that Fiona 
slipped away a couple of times ... I was sure that she 
allowed guys to kiss her in the back room".
   
  Barry gulped and reddened even more. "Fiona is quite 
wild.  I'm sure you don't have to do everything she did. 
 But please ... my job is on the line ... maybe you 
shouldn't make the management guys too angry".
   
  "You mean, let them feel me up?"
   
  "I ... I ... I" was all Barry could stammer out.
   
  I let some of my laughter out. "Oh, don't worry, I can 
look after myself" I said confidently.  "And a little 
bit of extra money will help, won't it".
   
  "Ye ... Ye ... Yes" he responded.
   
  "OK, let's do it ... I'm sure it's not a big deal".
   
  With that we returned to the game, and Barry told them I 
had agreed.
   
  "Well then", said Stan, "all we need is for you two to 
confirm that in writing.  We have a little contract 
drawn up"
   
  He handed us a sheet of paper, on which we read the 
following: `We, Barry and Rita ------, do willingly 
agree that Rita will with immediate effect join the ----
- company as PRO and entertainments officer, for a 
period of at least two years.  Rita will fulfil all 
tasks and duties allocated to her by the company owner 
and his management team.  It is further agreed that she 
comes way for the remainder of this weekend for an 
intensive training session.  In confirmation of this 
agreement, we attach our signatures and the panties that 
Rita is currently wearing'.  (A large safety pin was 
attached, to facilitate the last request.)
   
  Barry was nearly in tears! "That's too much!" he cried, 
referring to the last clause.
   
  "That's the offer", Stan told him.
   
  "Never mind", I said airily.  "They've all seem them 
tonight anyway!"  In truth, my body was hugely aroused 
at the thought of exposing myself to all of the guys.  I 
slipped my hands under my short skirt. "Don't peep", I 
said, and slipped the flimsy garment down by legs and 
pinned it to the document which I also signed.
   
  Barry looked even more miserable, but attached his 
signature, before the contract when in the pot.
   
  "Well, we might as well have the show down immediately. 
 What have you got?"
   
  Barry dealt out the four aces he was holding.
   
  "Wow", said Paddy.  "That's way beyond my full house", 
and threw his cards in a show of dismay.
   
  "All I have is a flush" said Stan with a leer.  For a 
moment Barry looked as if a life-belt had been thrown to 
him ... perhaps they made a mistake in fiddling the cards. 
 He should have known better.  Stan slowly laid down his 
five hearts: K-Q-J-10-9.  Barry's last hope disappeared.
   
  Stan grabbed the contract, stood up and put his arm 
around me.  "`Immediate effect' means right now", he 
said.  "Don't bother to bring anything with you", he 
told me.  "You're going with me, Louis and Steve to my 
beach house".
   
  The four of us went out to his double-cab pickup truck. 
 I was placed in the front seat between Stan and Steve, 
while Louis climbed in the backseat.
   
  "Take off your top and skirt", Stan ordered.  "Then call 
Barry across and tell him to take them inside as you 
won't be needing them".
   
  I did as I was told.  The look on Barry's face when I 
handed him my clothes was priceless ... he was literally 
speechless.  And so we drove off, with me totally naked 
between the three men.  Throughout the drive, Stan and 
Steve's fingers were continuously exploring my sex, 
massaging clit and vulva in turn.  At the same time, 
Louis was leaning over from the back, using both hands 
to play with my tits and nipples.  By the time we 
reached the beach house some 40 minutes later, I was 
gibbering wreck of female arousal.  I knew now that I 
would never be able to return to my old life.  I was by 
nature a whore, and wanted nothing else.
   
  I wanted nothing more than to fuck all night!  But Stan 
told me that we'd have "a busy day tomorrow", and that I 
should get some sleep.  The three of them would draw 
cards to see who would spend the night in bed with me. I 
should give each of the losers a quick blow job, and 
then off to bed with the winner.
   
  Steve was the winner.  Stan and Louis stripped quickly, 
and Stan gestured to me to get down on my knees between 
them.  From the porn I had viewed, and knew exactly what 
was required!  I took a cock in each hand, and started 
sucking on one as if it were a lollipop.  After a few 
minutes I switched to the other, and alternated between 
them as they groaned and sighed in pleasure, 
complimenting me on being such a "natural cock-sucking 
whore".  These lewd words increased my arousal, and I 
sucked and rubbed the two all the harder.
   
  Soon Louis grunted out that he could not last much 
longer, so I turned most of my attention to him, and in 
short time his semen was squirting all over my face and 
running down my hands. 
   
  I could then turn my attention to Stan.  When he was 
ready to come, he took my head in his hands and 
literally fucked my face.  As he erupted, I was forced 
to swallow virtually all his jism, just little bits 
leaking out of the corner of my mouth.
   
  Then Steve took me by the hand and led me to the master 
bedroom.  After a quick clean up in the bathroom, I lay 
down next to him on the bed.  Steve started kissing me 
gently on my lips, then worked his way down along my 
neck, on to the swells of my breast, and to my nipples. 
 There he stayed for a while, nursing at my breast like 
a baby, as I held his head against me.
   
  It was with a mixture of disappointment and anticipation 
that I felt his lips leave my tits and continue 
southward. He paused briefly to lick around my navel, 
and then at last ventured into the thick bush between my 
legs.  He must have suffered a few mouthfuls of curly 
hair before he found my clit and gently nibbled on it 
with his teeth.  By now my legs were thrashing around 
uncontrollably.  I pulled on his shoulders to move him 
back up to lie on top of me, squashing me, as his 
manhood found my slit.  Then we were joined together, 
and thrust against each other as one.  We came together 
in total ecstasy.
   
  As our passions subsided, he slid off and lay beside me, 
our arms still around each other, and we must have 
fallen asleep just like that, with his juicy cock 
resting on my thigh, and his sperm slowly seeping out of 
my gaping pussy.
   
      ************
   
  Chapter 3: Pregnant Whore
   
  All I remember is that when I awoke, with Steve still 
lying against me, the sun was already shining through 
the window.  As I stretched, Steve woke as well, and 
smiled at me.  He pulled me round so that we were lying 
side-by-side in a 69 position.  I naturally took his 
erect cock into my mouth while fondling his balls with 
my hands.  His tongue worked magic on my button and I 
was soon writhing around and probably screaming audibly. 
 Then I felt Steve's balls tighten and warm sticky cum 
filled my mouth, some of it leaking down my chin.  When 
we were done, and we lying in the same direction again, 
Steven gently wiped his fluid off my chin and smeared it 
on my tit.  Then he took my hand, and made me rub it in. 
 I felt so delightfully depraved.
   
  We showered together, and while we were still soaping 
each other, Stan called out to us to get a move on.  So 
hand in hand, but still totally naked, we strolled 
through to the living room.  As we entered, I froze in 
horror ... There was Steve's wife Sheila.
   
  "Oh my God", I gasped, and tried to hide behind Steve.
   
  "Surprised to see me, dear?  What have you been getting 
up to with my husband?"
   
  The others laughed, and Steve explained: "You don't have 
to worry about Sheila playing the outraged wife.  I'd 
have to be the outraged husband more often.  We have a 
rather unconventional relationship.  Sheila was a very 
expensive call girl for a long time, and is now madam of 
an exclusive ring, still servicing a few very special 
clients herself."
   
  "Sheila has agreed to help with your training", added 
Stan.
   
  "We'll start with looking at a few DVDs of different 
ways and positions of doing it", said Sheila.  "But as 
you're watching, and I explain some tricks of the trade, 
I want you to sit where all three guys can see you.  You 
have to learn to be completely comfortable and 
uninhibited with your sexual feelings."
   
  She passed a box to me, which I opened to find a 
vibrator. 
   
  "As you watch the movies, I want you to fuck yourself 
with the vibrator and to play with your clit, in front 
of all of us.  I expect you to bring yourself to regular 
orgasms during this time."
   
  Over the next 2-3 hours, we viewed an enormous variety 
of sex acts.  I had seen most of these acts during my 
visits to porn sites, but some were new to me.  As we 
watched, Sheila matter-of-factly pointed out what the 
girls were doing in terms of stimulating their male 
partners.   We watched oral and anal as well as vaginal 
penetration.  Sheila explained the techniques of deep-
throating as I watched girls with their mouths buried in 
pubic hair.  We watched girls with multiple partners, up 
to 5 at a time: one cock each in pussy, anus and mouth, 
while the girl rubbed two more against her tits.  I saw 
girls covered in cum, in their hair, over their face, on 
their tits and leaking out of pussy and anal openings.
   
  The arousal caused by all this scenes, together with the 
unceasing stimulation of my cunt and clit, did drive me 
to multiple orgasms, and I was soon totally unconcerned 
about who witnessed the climaxes.  I was quickly 
becoming the slut they wanted!
   
  I was quite exhausted by the time we were through, and 
they left me to sleep for a while until a light lunch.
   
  When I awoke, I found two other guys had joined us.  
They were young and well-built, like body builders, and 
were introduced as Long John and Mad Max.  I was told 
that they were well-known porn-movie stars.
   
  Sheila told them to strip, and I couldn't believe my 
eyes.  I couldn't imagine that the male organ could get 
that big.  Each was longer than the width of both my 
hands together, and so thick that my hand could only get 
half-way round the circumference ... and remember, I'm a 
big girl!
   
  John, Max and I then went to the bedroom.  Stan, Louis 
and Steve relaxed in chairs round the bed, while Sheila 
choreographed the next few hours.  We played out most of 
the acts I had viewed on the DVDs, in front of this 
audience.  I learned how to deep-throat, and how to 
relax and take it up my ass.  I was screwed missionary 
style and doggy style.  I rode the two guys countless 
times, usually sucking off one as the other fucked me, 
or using my hand to rub their pricks on my tits.  They 
came in me (in all holes) and on me repeatedly.  These 
two were amazing.  They could come every 20 minutes, and 
would be hard within 5 minutes later.
   
  I was not given time to clean up in between, so I was 
soon a total mess of cum all over my body, and leaking 
out of all holes.  And the more I was used by John and 
Max, to the lewd comments of Stan, Louis and Steve, and 
the encouragement of Sheila, the more aroused I became. 
 I wanted to be a slut, their slut.  I wanted my body to 
be a plaything of men.  Occasionally, I thought of Barry 
back home, but I no longer cared.  I knew only that he 
had never made me feel so satisfied, so desirable and so 
female.
   
  We ended the afternoon with the two of them sandwiching 
me. I sat down on Max's pole, taking it deep up into my 
bowels. Then John positioned himself between my legs and 
buried his shaft into my juicy cunt.  John pushed me 
backwards, so that I was lying on my back on Max, with 
his cock still buried up my asshole.  Then John lay on 
top of me, so that I was squashed between the two men.  
They were clearly used to doing this, and they set up a 
steady rhythm of thrusts into me.  I came and came and 
came, delighting in my ability to so fully satisfy two 
men at the same time.  And then they came, almost 
simultaneously, and I could feel their sperm filling 
both my womb and bowels.
   
  But by now, I was exhausted, and they allowed me to 
clean up and to sleep for a while, as there was to be a 
further phase to my training that very evening. "What 
more is there to learn", I wondered.
   
  A couple of hours later, I felt surprisingly refreshed. 
 As I walked through to the living room, facing five men 
and a woman, I thought briefly how incredible it was 
that I felt so comfortable with my nakedness.  I felt 
that I could happily expose myself to anyone.
   
  "You're going to a pub tonight with Long John and Mad 
Max", Stan told me.  "The rest of us will be there to 
watch, but that's all.  But first of all, we want you 
obviously drunk".
   
  I was allowed a little to eat, but over the next hour 
and a half I drained no less than 6 glasses of rum and 
coke, each about 50% rum.  By that time, I felt I could 
hardly walk.
   
  I was given a miniscule mini-skirt, with splits up the 
side so high that it was hardly more than two panels of 
cloth, front and back ... making my pantiless condition 
obvious.  My outfit was completed by a top that 
resembled a halter-neck bikini top, and high-heeled 
platform sandals in which I could hardly walk in my 
drunken state.
   
  John and Max took me in their car to a busy pub, and 
then walked me through the crowd to the bar.  I must 
have been evidently drunk, and I could feel many eyes 
boring into me.  "Flash a tit", John ordered, and with a 
giggle, I pulled the top to one side to show one breast 
in full.  I was aware of many men lusting after me, and 
women staring in disapproval.
   
  At the bar, I had another rum and coke (but not as 
strong as before).  When I was done, Max whispered in my 
ear: "Now come with us".
   
  We went down the corridor towards the toilets, and to my 
amazement and embarrassment (I still had some 
inhibitions, it seemed), they marched me into the men's 
room.  A number of men looked up in surprise from the 
urinals.  But John and Max walked me through into the 
disabled cubicle that had more space than the others.
   
  They stripped off my top and skirt.  First John and then 
Max made me lean over the bowl with my legs apart, and 
they fucked from behind.  They made loud comments, so 
that anyone else in the men's room would have no doubt 
as to what was happening.
   
  When Max was done, they pulled up their trousers, opened 
the door and walked out, leaving the door wide open.  I 
was still completely naked, with cum trails running down 
my leg.  I had to dress myself and find my way out 
through a crowd of men.  Somehow, this turned me on, and 
as I walked through, I adjusted my top again, giving 
them all a further view of my tits.
   
  Stan and Louis took me back to the beach house, leaving 
John and Max to go off on their own, while Sheila and 
Steve left together.
   
  We went to bed together, and I practised one of my newly 
found skills by having them double team me, with Stan in 
my backside and Louis in my cunt.  Once they had filled 
both holes with their sperm, we all collapsed into 
soundless sleep.
   
  The next morning (Sunday), Sheila re-appeared and took 
me shopping.  (She brought an outfit for me to wear.)  
It was made clear that in spite of my big tits, bras 
were not allowed.  Sheila assured me that in spite of 
their size, they were as firm as a teenager's.  Also no 
panties, of course, except perhaps when I had my period. 
   
  We bought half-a-dozen skirts, all short, some tight and 
some flared, and an equal number of tops, some almost 
totally transparent.  We bought 4 pairs of shoes, all 
with high heels in spite of my height.  Finally, we 
looked out two outfits for more formal evening wear, but 
still highly revealing of both legs and tits.
   
  We lunched with the others, and then Stan took me off on 
our own.  I was not really surprised when we arrived at 
a tattoo parlour.  For the next couple of hours I sat 
topless, as a strange man worked on my left breast.  He 
expressed approval at the size of it, as that gave him 
room to work.  When he was done, I looked in the mirror, 
realizing that the tattoo was irreversible ... I was 
branded forever as a slut-whore.  And the realization 
made my pussy juice up.
   
  [At this point in her story, Rita opened her top to show 
me the tattoo.  The snake wrapped twice around her tit, 
ending with it's head on the inner upper swell, and with 
its mouth open seemingly swallowing the nipple.  The 
tattooist had circled the nipple in red, and added a 
little green stalk at the top to make it look like an 
apple ... the traditional symbol for temptation.]
   
  The tattooist gave me instructions on how to keep the 
tattoo clean until fully healed, and with that we left. 
 
We met up again with Steve and Louis, and after a few 
more drinks in a pub, they took me home in Stan's 
pickup, arriving just as it was getting dark.  Before 
they let me off, I was placed on the back seat of the 
double-cab, and each in turn jacked off over me as I 
sucked their pricks.  My blouse was opened, so that when 
each came, their sticky goo sprayed all over my tits as 
well as on my face and in my hair.  They forced me to 
rub it all into my skin with my hands, before closing my 
top over the mess.
   
  Barry met me at the front door when I arrived with my 
purchases.  He looked terrible!  He had bags under his 
eyes.  He probably had not slept all weekend, and looked 
as if he had been crying. I felt quite sorry for him, 
but also knew that I had moved on from him!  I don't 
think he even noticed the mess I was in.
   
  "How are you?", he blubbered out.  "Was it terrible.  Oh 
God, I'm so sorry, I should have stood up to them, 
whatever the consequences".
   
  I decided to give him a bit more of a hard time.
   
  "You never told me", I said accusingly, and with a show 
of anger, "what the PRO position involved.  You must 
have known that it is nothing more than company whore.  
I'm now a pro --- a professional prostitute.  I hope 
you're satisfied!"
   
  Barry was almost in tears again: "They forced me not to 
say anything.  I hoped you would refuse.  But I couldn't 
do anything ..."
   
  "Well it's too late now", I countered.  "They have 
turned me into a slut-whore.  Five men have had me over 
the last two days.  And you know what?  I enjoyed it!  
Yes, I got off any being used by them and on being their 
cum-dump.  I realize now that your little weenie and 
your 1-2-3 wham-bam, thank you mam, will never satisfy 
me again.  You can relieve yourself in me when you want 
... I am still your wife ... but you are going to have to 
share me with others, and accept that you may have very 
sloppy seconds or thirds or fourths!"
   
  I had meant to humiliate Barry ... to make him suffer.  
But I soon realized that he was strangely becoming 
aroused.  I flopped down on the couch with my legs wide 
open, and my skirt rode up past my thighs.  "I'm 
exhausted now, but if you see anything you like, help 
yourself". He did ... I pulled him down on to me and 
kissed him, and I don't he realized that he was getting 
the cum of the three other guys over his face and chest. 
In fact, he was more forceful than I had usually known 
him, almost angry, and it was more pleasurable with him 
than it had been for a long time.  But he still came too 
quickly.
   
  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - 
Monday morning, and I travelled to work with Barry in 
the bus.  He was quite embarrassed at my outfit which 
had a number of the other commuters staring.
   
  Shortly after we arrived at the office, Fiona came in 
for a short while and showed me around things such as 
operating the phone, the wash room, and also to the 
company flat in the next block of buildings.  It was 
small but had a sitting room and a separate bedroom.  It 
was modestly but comfortable furnished, and Fiona gave 
me the contact details for the agency that cleaned up 
after guests had left. "They ask no questions", she told 
me with a wink.
   
  By 1030, I was on my own at the front desk, when a tall, 
grey-haired and distinguished looking man came in. He 
reminded me of my father!
   
  "Can I help you", I greeted him, leaning forward to give 
him a good view of my bare tits.  He looked!
   
  He told me he had an appointment with Steve and Barry to 
have some quotes done, so I led him through to Steve's 
office.
   
  About two hours later, Barry brought their guest back to 
my front office.  "This is Hardy N-----", Barry informed 
me.  "We are preparing some rough drawings and estimates 
for him which should be ready by about 3.30pm.  Steve 
says that you should take Hardy out to lunch on the 
company account, and then to the company flat to rest 
and clean up if he wishes."
   
  Barry was gulping as he passed on these instructions. He 
knew and I knew that he was pimping for me, and that I 
would need to `entertain' the guest.
   
  "Sure thing", I said, taking Hardy's arm and leading him 
out, making sure that I squeezed a tit hard against his 
shoulder.  I blew a kiss at Barry, who looked quite 
miserable watching us leave.
   
  We lunched at a steakhouse, sitting in a quiet booth. I 
pressed my thigh hard against his, touched him 
frequently with my hand, and leaned close to him so that 
he could feel my tit against his arm.  This was the 
first time that I had taken the initiative in coming on 
to a man, and I could sense his arousal, which I found 
quite exciting.
   
  After the light lunch, I escorted Hardy to the flat.  By 
this time, the erection in his trousers was evident.  I 
took him to the bedroom, kicked off my shoes and lay on 
the bed, patting the covers next to me.  He wasted no 
time in dropping down next to me, and had my tits out in 
one quick move.  Soon he was nursing at my breast, as I 
cradled his head in my hands.  Not long after, he kissed 
his way down my belly, as his hands loosened my skirt 
and discovered my pantiless state.
   
  I was quickly naked, and started undoing his shirt 
buttons, and then his belt buckle.  His lips reached my 
nether lips, and soon he was suckling on my clit as he 
had been on my nipples.  By now, I had released his 
prick and was gently massaging it.  I was gratified to 
hear his moans of pleasure ... I was becoming a competent 
whore!
   
  But by this time the drinks I had had at lunch were 
starting to put pressure on my bladder.  I pushed him 
away, and told him: "Don't go anywhere, big boy.  I need 
to have a pee, and you won't want me to do it on the 
bed!"
   
  As I trotted through to the bathroom, however, Hardy 
followed me, dropping the rest of his clothes on the 
way.
   
  As I sat on the bowl, he knelt between my legs and 
pulled me forward so that my bum was almost on the front 
end of the seat.  Then he bent forward and resumed the 
licking and sucking around my pussy.
   
  "Hey", I cried, "you're taking a chance ... I can't hold 
out much longer!"
   
  His voice was hoarse and breathless in obvious 
excitement: "Do it!  Please do it!  Piss right now for 
me ... I haven't tasted a young women for years", and he 
leaned closer into my crotch and furiously licked and 
probed round my opening, pushing his tongue well up into 
my vagina."
   
  For a moment I was nonplussed. I had not yet heard of 
water sports, but it was clear what he wanted.  For a 
few moments, I found it difficult to relax and to 
release my bladder, but once the stream started it 
seemed to pour for ever!  Hardy sucked and lapped 
furiously, and there was no doubt that he was swallowing 
large amounts of my piss, apart from that which ran down 
his chin and over his chest.  His sucking around my hole 
brought me to an orgasm before my stream had come to an 
end.
   
  When at last my bladder was empty, Hardy took a towel, 
dried me where piss had splashed around, dried himself, 
and then dropped it on the floor where he mopped the 
rest up using his feet.
   
  He then took my hand, led me back to the bed and threw 
me down.  I lay with my legs splayed widely and 
obscenely open.  He dropped on top of me, and slammed 
his stiff organ straight up my juice cunt.  He pumped 
energetically for I suppose 10 minutes, bringing me to 
two more climaxes before filling my womb with his seed.
   
  We rested for a while in each others' arms, and then 
(neat as ever) Hardy went back to the bathroom, where he 
threw the piss-soaked towels in the bath and ran some 
water in.  (Our cleaning service could hopefully deal 
with them further.)  He then took me into the shower, 
and we gently soaped each other down in the warm water.
   
  I delivered Hardy, clean, dressed and relaxed back at 
the office about 5 minutes late.  Within half an hour 
the contract was sealed.  Hardy greeted me as he left, 
expressing the wish that we would get together again 
soon.  I smiled, leaned over my desk to give him a good 
flash of my naked tits, and agreed.
   
  Once Hardy had left, Steve (with Barry watching) put his 
arm around me, cupped my breast, and told me I had done 
a great job in looking after the client.  "It was my 
pleasure", I assured him.  Barry looked miserable.
   
  Back home that night, when we went to bed, Barry again 
screwed me almost angrily.  It felt good while it 
lasted, but yet again he came too quickly.
   
  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
I was soon to realize that my first day on the job was 
rather quiet.  My usual day started by going to see Stan 
first thing, where he helped himself to a fuck.  This 
would sometimes be slow relaxed love-making on his 
leather couch; on other occasions he just bent me over 
his desk and took me from behind.  He never locked his 
door, and frequently someone would come in while we were 
screwing.  It never bothered Stan, and I soon came to 
realize that I came off better with an audience.  I was 
a natural exhibitionist.
   
  Steve and Louis would also enjoy my favours some time 
during the day.  Whenever a staff member had a birthday, 
I would take him into the ladies rest room for an hour 
or so of fun.  Every Friday there was a draw for 
`employee of the week'.  Every time someone did anything 
noteworthy, his name was put on a card placed in an urn, 
from which one card was drawn each week.  The employee 
of the week would have lunch with me, before going up to 
the company flat.
   
  There would be three or four clients a week to 
entertain, usually over lunch, but occasional out-of-
town clients would be offered the use of the company 
flat overnight and I would normally spend the night 
there as well.
   
  I would act as hostess at some poker evenings, usually 
naked from the start, and at other functions for 
customers.  Thus all told, I was probably fucking or 
sucking three or four times a day, with an average of 8-
10 different partners each week.
   
  Quite soon I had to acknowledge that I was addicted to 
sex.  If I went without a cock in my cunt for 3 or 4 
hours, I became so horny I had to relieve myself.  This 
became obvious to me three weeks after I started at the 
company.  Stan and his senior colleagues were away for 
the weekend, and there was no poker party or other 
function.  For the whole weekend, I had to make do with 
Barry's little pecker, but he only managed to get it up 
three or four times.
   
  Fortunately, the next weekend was a very different 
situation.  Stan had offered my services to act in a 
porn movie.  The scene was that of a hillbilly 
household.  I acted as a teenage daughter of a widowed 
father and his two sons (played by Long John and Mad 
Max).  The three of them, and a fourth black actor 
(playing the role of a farm-hand), took me in every 
conceivable position and setting.  In addition, most 
scenes had to be re-shot on a number of occasions, so 
that I was almost continuously fucked, for 12 hours a 
day over two days.  The amusing part of the whole 
process was that two female assistants with vacuum pumps 
had to assist in keeping the guys sufficiently erect!  
But I finished the weekend feeling VERY relaxed.
   
  The sad part of this period was that Barry became 
increasingly remote.  Every few days he would suddenly 
throw himself on me, almost raping me, but in between he 
would seem not to want to touch me.  I felt sorry for 
him, but increasingly I needed the attention of LOTS of 
men, and I knew we would have to soon go our own ways.
   
  The crisis came some six weeks after my becoming company 
whore.  In the thrill and exhilaration of continual 
sexual stimulation, there was one thing I completely 
overlooked.  During that time, I never had a period!
   
  But then for a few days in a row, I felt rather nauseous 
each morning.  I thought I must have been over-
indulging, and tried cutting down on rich foods and 
drink, without much success.  After about a week of 
this, Sheila came into the office one morning and 
commented that I looked off-colour.
   
  I told her of my morning sickness.
   
  "Oh, my God", she said.  "Are you pregnant?"
   
  "No, that's not poss...", I started to say.  And suddenly, 
I stopped.  I had been so used to the idea of being 
infertile, that I no longer questioned the diagnosis.  
But it now burst on me that I up to 7 weeks ago, I had 
only ever had Barry's sperm in me and had not fallen 
pregnant.  Over the last 7 weeks, I probably had 
absorbed multiple sperm loads from as much as 30 
different men ... and my period was late!
   
  I told Sheila the full story of our unsuccessfully 
trying for a baby, and my assumed infertility in the 
light of Barry's supposed impregnation of the young 
girl.  She threw her head back and laughed.  "Poor Barry 
... It seems he has been cuckolded a few times.  That girl 
probably wanted to protect her real boyfriend.  Then we 
invented the story of Lara's pregnancy.  And now you! 
But let's get a pregnancy test done to confirm what is 
probably the obvious".
   
  Sheila took me via a pharmacy and then to the company 
flat, where we soon confirmed my pregnancy.  I was 
shattered, and felt tears in my eyes.
   
  "Now what's all this about?" asked Sheila.  "I thought 
you wanted a baby, or were you so desperate to have 
Barry's baby?  He doesn't seem my first choice as the 
sire for a baby of mine!"
   
  "No, it's not Barry", I half-sobbed.  "It's that I am 
just getting to enjoy my new life, and I'll have to give 
it up.  And I'm not sure what I will now do anyway, as 
Barry won't want to look after me."
   
  Sheila laughed even more loudly.  "You still don't know 
men very well, do you?  Stan and the others will LOVE 
the idea of a pregnant whore, and you'll have men 
lusting over you even more than ever.  Come let's go 
tell Stan."
   
  She was right!  Stan was delighted. He rubbed my tummy, 
and then slipped my top up above my tits.  He rubbed 
them with the comment "these will really look great when 
filled with milk.  I look forward to sucking on them 
then!"
   
  Stan, Steve and Louis took me to lunch to celebrate, and 
all three openly felt up my tummy in the restaurant.  
Suddenly, I felt more desirable than ever and began 
looking forward to producing a baby whose father would 
forever by anonymous.
   
  As it happened, Barry had been away all that day at a 
client, so it was only when we reached home that I gave 
him the happy news.  Except that he wasn't happy!  "It 
can't be true!  Or if it is, it just proves you are a 
born slut - I didn't make you a whore - You were unable 
to be fertile without selling yourself to hordes of 
men."
   
  That night he slept on the spare bed in the living room. 
 The next morning he told me he had a migraine and that 
he would not be going into work.  When I returned that 
evening, he was gone with all his goods.  There was a 
brief note saying he was starting a new life and would 
divorce me.  But that I could keep everything in the 
flat.  I was partly sad, but partly relieved that I was 
truly free to enjoy my new lifestyle as a whore.
   
  I called Stan, and he came over for the night.  He 
suggested that I simply move into the company flat.  
From then on, if I did not have a guest to entertain, 
the staff would take turns to sleep with me. I wasn't 
complaining, and nor were they.
   
  As my tummy started to show, Stan insisted that I wore 
crop tops and hipster skirts in the office.  He has also 
said that when the baby comes, I can keep her (yes a 
girl, it seems) at the office, and should feed her at my 
front desk. He has also suggested that once a day I 
should suckle one of the staff members for a few 
minutes.  In fact, a kink I'm contemplating is to 
continue feeding my baby while a guy fucks me.
   
  The director of the porn movie in which I had starred 
was excited, and planned a whole series of follow-up 
movies with the same characters, in which my pregnancy 
increasingly showed.  A grand finale has been arranged 
in which my delivery will be filmed.  A trained midwife, 
who has no qualms about the scene, will act as an old 
country midwife, and will deliver my baby in full view 
of the camera, with the other male actors standing 
around.  In addition, Stan, Steve and Louis will be 
present, so I won't be lonely.
  
    ************
   
  ******************************************************
Epilogue
   
  As Rita reached the end of her story, she rubbed her 
tummy, and told me: "I've had a great pregnancy.  I have 
never felt so good, and people tell me I have never 
looked more glowing.  I am born for motherhood and to 
please men!  The only problem is that from last week, 
with still two weeks to go, the doctor tells me I should 
abstain from vaginal sex until 6 weeks after the 
delivery. --- How do you feel about some oral sex with a 
pregnant fairy?"
   
  It seemed like a good idea!