THE BOSS’S SLUT 3: MRS. DEBORAH WOODBURN

CHAPTER 3: MRS. DEBORAH WOODBURN

I wasn’t even spending the first night in my condo after moving in. Mr. Woodburn told me to pack a small case for two nights. He would be picking me up Friday late afternoon and return me home Sunday afternoon. He gave me little information other than some essentials to be packed.

I was waiting inside the secure lobby of the building with my single carry-on size roller bag. The doorman, who I had only met that day, was very attentive and suggested I wait inside out of the traffic and flow of people on the sidewalk. When Mr. Woodburn’s Cadillac pulled next to the curb, the doorman looked back at me. I nodded and he began rushing back and forth, first to hold the door for me, taking my bag, then to the car to open the door for me, then to the trunk that popped open for him. The driver handed him a tip as he shut the trunk lid.

I settled into the back seat next to Mr. Woodburn. He had suggested an office-type outfit. The short skirt rode up my thighs are I slid into the seat. He noticed. He didn’t ask but he was almost able to see if I did indeed take his comment of “office-type outfit” to mean no underwear. I didn’t have any on, of course, and I thought the doorman might have had the better vantage point as I got into the car.

“Sir?”

“You’ll find out in due course, my dear.”

“Yes, Sir.” He was still not telling me, but we crossed the river leaving downtown. I had the very familiar tingling feeling in my pussy as I sat back trying to present an air of calm while the potential of the unknown crashed against those efforts.

* * * * *

“So, you’re the slut who has been fucking my Charles at his work?”

The woman standing in the foyer of their mansion-sized home was Mrs. Deborah Woodburn. She was about 45-years-old, younger than him. She was trim, 5’ 6” tall and about 130 pounds. Her looks were younger than her actual years. She had stylized reddish, blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. She was in a very nice dress, stockings, and heels. Jewelry completed the look on her neck, ears, and wrists.

I glanced nervously to Mr. Woodburn who had taken his place alongside her. His expression showed no hint of discomfort or tension.

“Mrs. Woodburn, I …”

Her face suddenly changed completely by breaking into a smile. She stepped up to me and took me into her arms, pulling me in for a truly heartfelt hug that could have been a mother’s hug to a daughter who had been away too long.

“I am sorry, dear, but you should have seen your face.” She took my arm and led me through the foyer. A large, curving staircase went upstairs. She took me past what was a formal dining room already set up for three. She commented on the rooms as if settling me in. We stopped in a study, large curtain covered windows on one wall, other walls covered with bookshelves, and a sitting area at the other wall around a coffee table. While Mr. Woodburn went to a hidden bar for drinks, she held me out in front of her, stepped back and appraised me from head to toe.

“You did well, Charles.”

He chuckled as he handed us our drinks, “I know I did, my love.”

“You know about me?”

She laughed, “Of course, I do. Charles and I have a very good marriage, my dear. I knew about Trudy, too. When he told me, Trudy wanted to reduce her involvement and that he wanted to change the situation to include a professional person working closely with him who would be his personal slut for personal and professional use, I was intrigued.” She looked up at her husband.

He nodded, “As I said before, my dear, I have no objection to expanding the relationship as long as Tina is in agreement. But, remember she has critical responsibilities at the firm.”

I looked between them, “Expand? What are you suggesting?”

Mrs. Woodburn stared at me. Her face was still pleasant but there was new purpose or authority there, also. “How are you dressed when in Charles’ office?” I told her what she already knew. “When in my home, consider the rules of his office to apply here, as well.”

My eyes began flitting to Mr. Woodburn, but I stopped them. I slipped the jacket from my shoulders and looked for a nearby chair. Mr. Woodburn held out his hand and took it from me. I started unbuttoning my white blouse when I was stopped. She commented on how attractive the hint of my nipples were. I handed the blouse to him, now naked above the waist. I reached around my back without hesitation, unclasped and unzipped it, then wiggling out of the tight skirt. After stepping out of it, it was too given to him. I stood before them in my dark thigh-high stockings and black heels.

“You are a beautiful woman, Tina.” Her eyes traveled over my body. “Does your willingness mean you accept the expansion of your relationship with Charles?”

“I don’t think you explained the terms of the expansion, Ma’am. My compliance was only in deference to your husband’s presence and in anticipation of what might come.”

“Oh, Charles, I do like her.” She held up her glass and we touched each other’s. “A good combination of professional competence and slutty obedience.”

At dinner, Charles sat at the head of the table while his wife and I sat on either side near him. I remained naked, both periodically pointing out how my nipples would become erect or my face and upper chest would flush. She explained what she wanted in the expansion of my slut agreement with her husband. She confided that he kept her very satisfied sexually and, in fact, found his interest in sex with her increased with the addition of Trudy and now me. My arrival in an expanded capacity, however, introduced an exciting potential she wished to pursue. He agreed, but it would depend on my acceptance.

She described herself as a woman schooled in the lost art of formal etiquette where women held men’s attention simply by the way they stood, sat, touched an arm in conversation, or allowed their eyes to travel over someone. She proposed that she could instruct me in that art and it could prove valuable in the enticement of clients. After all, she said, using a slut to gain business was all about enticement. It can be done purely slutty or have the slutty be a surprise, which would be more enticing.

She said there were things she desired, though, too. She desired to know and experiment with the feel of the touch of a woman. She also had other desires. Desires that were quite taboo in society and too taboo to attempt to experience them except in the privacy of the estate. I questioned what those taboos were. Even as I asked the question, though, my pussy was sending tingling messages to my nipples and brain and they were responding with increased signals back. She assured me they were not hurtful, at least not more than a hard fuck by a big cock. She smiled.

“You’ve fucked my husband. You know what I mean by that. Are you used to him, yet?”

I nodded, “Mostly, I think.” I was blushing intensely and I knew my nipples were again hard nubs on my breasts and my pussy was again leaking. I hoped the chairs could be cleaned. “He says I will be stretched more. There may be clients with larger cocks.” She looked at her husband. “And, he has mentioned anal.” She gasped. Apparently, that wasn’t part of their lovemaking.

I woke up with the morning light filtering in through the bedroom window’s sheer curtains. It took me a moment to orient myself. The air and sounds were different. The bedroom was certainly different. Most different, though, was having one person’s leg draped over mine and another person’s arm draped over my breasts. I don’t know if I slept on my back the entire night or in our sleep, we found positions like this.

Of course, the people entrapping me to the bed were Mr. and Mrs. Woodburn. It was an interesting evening and night. I was sure she had heard the details of my being hired and the days after, but she was adamant about hearing it from me. I couldn’t help feeling embarrassed in the telling. I was sitting naked in the study with them on a couch, each of them stroking my thighs as I related the story including our first and other fucks. I was relating to a woman about the times I had fucked her husband and she wanted details. And their fingers became more insistent as I told the story. And the drinks. Mr. Woodburn refreshed our drinks numerous times. Sometime in the description of trying to take him deep into my throat and gagging yet again, my legs were pulled open and draped over their legs. Now, two sets of fingers played over my inner thighs and drooling pussy.

We ended up in bed. There was no question of that inevitability. I assisted them in fucking. In a moment of ingenuity, I lay on my back with my head toward the foot of the bed, had her straddle my head, then he came up behind her. He fucked his wife on her hands and knees while I licked her pussy and clit, my mouth and tongue playing over her and his plunging cock and balls, my fingers working over her hanging breasts and nipples. Periodically, he pulled out of his wife and fed his cock into my mouth, then plunged back into her. She screamed her orgasm and he moaned his along with her as I pinched her nipple and massaged his balls.

After, there was light banter that led me to suck him hard, again. She sat cross-legged and offered with open hands for me to take my turn. And that was an interesting moment. I excitedly jumped at the opportunity. That was when it crystallized for me. It wasn’t at all that I was just a compliant, accepting slut. Well … maybe … but not JUST. I also really, really like to fuck him. I liked the way he fucked. I liked his cock … a lot. I liked being with both of them. I liked being with him and Trudy. I really, really liked fucking, sucking, and eating pussy. I really liked sex! Mr. Woodburn really did know the woman inside me and he was drawing that woman out of me.

* * * * *

“I hope you don’t think badly of Charles, my dear.”

We were at the kitchen counter, the two of us pulling together a breakfast. I like this woman. Actually, being in their home with them was showing a side of the Woodburn’s I wouldn’t have guessed. From the outside, he projected an image of wealth and power that would naturally include not only the limo service to and from work but service at home, too. That was the part I found telling about them. They both treated the home, despite the magnificence of it and the grounds, as a place of retreat. I was sure they had a cleaning service and grounds service that would come in to do major efforts, but they liked their privacy. She enjoyed cooking and last night they shared in doing the cleanup. So, this morning, I found myself assisting her in pulling together the breakfast.

“Why would I think badly of him, Ma’am?” I studied her as she took the egg dish out of the oven. It was amazingly simple to put together with eggs, sausage, cheese and crumbled bread, then cooked for 40 minutes. She was covered with a mid-length, light-fabric robe that covered her, but the tie slowly loosened as she worked requiring her to frequently retie it but also allow glimpses of her otherwise naked body underneath. I admired her body last night. Her extension of my role as her husband’s slut to include her now required that I also remain naked in their home unless otherwise directed. It was a modification I would never have expected.

“The fact that he is going off to play golf when he brought you here for the weekend.” She glanced at me with a look that said there was more to her bringing it up. We heard him and she called out that we had breakfast ready and he had to eat before leaving. “The truth is, I suggested it to him. I have something I want to … discuss with you while he is gone.” Just then, he came into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing her neck and shoulders as he untied her robe and fondled her breasts. She wiggled with embarrassed delight. While she retied her robe, he came to me and repeated his attack. I, however, was much more compliant and his hand moved further down my body. I glanced at his wife beside me who was now leaning against the counter on one hip watching as my feet spread and my hands reached for the counter for support as his hand found my pussy. He smacked my butt, grabbed a mug of coffee and retreated to the kitchen nook. She smiled at me, sensing the frustration of the quick, teasing arousal and just as quick let-down.

* * * * *

Mr. Woodburn had left for the golf course and she was leading me out into the yard. I could see in the rear of the large lot a small building that clearly was a kennel with a large fenced-in run. Inside were two dogs, a Golden Retriever and an Irish Setter. Both were beautiful dogs and mature size. She was now dressed in shorts and a pull-over top. I was still completely naked, even barefoot. She assured me the property was completely fenced in and private, but that didn’t stop me from surveying around us as we walked. I was not used to outdoor exhibition. Being stood in front of a window 11 stories in the air was one thing, this was another. But, I now satisfied her expectation, too.

She stood at the chain-link fence with her palm on the mesh. The dogs came rushing to her and nosed her palm.

“You grew up on a farm, right? Aren’t I remembering that correctly?

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You’re comfortable with dogs and other animals?”

I was wondering what this was leading to. “Yes, Ma’am. I love dogs. We had three, sometimes four dogs around the farm. They were almost strays. We put food and water out for them and they kept varmints away from the chickens and the barn. Then, there were lots of cows, a few horses, and pigs.”

She only nodded. It took her a few moments, “We recently got the dogs because Charles wanted dogs. You can see the balls and ropes scattered around the yard. They play with him very well. They might be rough on the plantings and gardens, but the three of them are a delight to watch.”

“The three of them, Ma’am?”

She smiled, “Yes, not much slips by you, does it?” She turned to me, “The thing is … well, we wanted handsome dogs and playful. These two are certainly that. They came from the same kennel and had been living together when they were … mmmmm … taken from the owners. It didn’t seem that the adoption kennel had a lot of information on them except that they were healthy, loved, and well cared for. But … stand over there away from the gate and watch what happens.”

I move around the corner of the fenced run but could still see through the links as she opened the gate and stepped back. I noticed she did nothing with her hands or body but to step back several steps. The dogs glanced at me warily, but with wagging tails rushed to her. My hand went to my mouth as I watched them circle her, snouts pressing into her front and butt. She stood there taking the aggressive probing of the noses before returning to the gate and ordering them back inside. I saw her hands shaking on the latch to close the gate.

We walked back to the patio. “That’s why I had you stand away. Imagine them with a naked woman? At first, we thought they were just happy and excited. Well … duh. But, not in the friendly, family dog kind of way.” Her hand slipped between her thighs as she gazed out into the yard toward the kennel, then quickly pulled it back as she saw me watching. “Sorry. It becomes rather arousing when you accept what they are after.”

“Ma’am, you really think …”

She patted my hand and smiled. “I was the same way. When it first was happening, Charles became quite embarrassed for me. I think men tend to see the sexual implication of things faster than we might. But, eventually, we went back to the adoption kennel for more information. He was nervous that there was something wrong and offered to take the dogs back and return our money. The thing was, though, that with Charles they were exactly what we wanted. The man promised more information so we could decide. He came back to us over a week later, apologizing for the delay. It turned out the dogs came from a police raid on a family. There was nothing in the police reports to indicate anything out of the ordinary. The neighbors all said the dogs didn’t bark, were good with kids and well-behaved, but were kept in the yard or the house. Out of curiosity, the animal control people who took the dogs into custody after the arrests pursued it further. They were given permission to interview the woman. The man wouldn’t talk to them. Both were in prisons, obviously different ones. The woman, since she was already in prison, decided to confess that she had been having sex with the dogs and the man rarely interacted with them. We were told she had a perverse smile on her face. Apparently, she let the dogs have her anytime they wanted. She preferred sex with them over her husband.”

I stared at her for a moment as the information fully sunk in. “So … that was a trained response for them. Maybe not a deliberate training response, but the woman had gotten them used to … having her as …”

She finished it for me, “Yes, as their bitch.”

We both sat quietly for many more moments. Although I now had a very challenging professional job, there was always the element of sexuality orbiting my life, always within a comment, text, email, or phone call away from that orbiting sexuality to consume me. Her story, now combined with the image of the dogs with her, ignited in me a very real arousal. Was that perverted, disgusting? Dogs. This was dogs she was talking about. But, still … the feelings were there and … what other reason was there for her telling me that?

I looked at her after half turning to face her more directly, suddenly much more aware of my nudity. “Why … are you telling me all this?”

She didn’t look at me, not at first. Her hesitancy spoke volumes about what was going through her mind. Finally, she let it out. “Tina, this is way beyond the arrangement you have with my husband, not to mention the expansion I asked for.” She reached across and put her hand on my arm. “Feel free to be offended and reject me, it’s probably asking too much, even of someone who has agreed to be a personal slut.” She turned slightly to face me. “I can’t get the idea of what that woman was doing out of my head. You might have noticed that the dogs probing at my crotch and ass didn’t cause me to jump away. I am intrigued, but …”

I smiled at her, “But, you don’t know if it should be something you should be considering or how to pursue if you really want to?” She nodded, her eyes remaining down looking at the ground between us. “Ma’am …”, she looked up at me, “I don’t know if it should be too much to ask me or not. I think that is my problem right now. Everything is so sensual and arousing to me. Just being around your husband and not knowing what that relationship might bring me; being in his office naked and not knowing when he might have me suck his cock or bend me over the table or desk to fuck me; and now you, naked in your home, helping the two of you to fuck and for you to be sitting with us as he fucks me. Ma’am, it is explosive just thinking about it.” I smiled with reassurance, “To your point, finally, I don’t know that there is anything that is too much to ask. Heck, not ask but direct me to do. That is the way I am feeling, that there is nothing that is too much to expect from me. I wasn’t sure what it might mean to accept his offer of being his slut. I liked sex more than I imagined as time passed. The more I experienced, the more I liked it. But, ultimately, your husband showed me how much I really did. This is going to sound really bad … or slutty … but I am wondering what my limits might be.”

She looked at me with eyes that were very soft and tender. “I wish I was like that, Tina. I love the sex Charles gives me, but I wish I could give Charles more, be more adventurous for him. Understand, he loves me tremendously and we are very happy. It isn’t that him wanting you somehow diminishes anything we have. I think having you might actually improve what we have.” She hesitated, again. “Can I ask something of you, then?”

I put my hand on hers. “Ma’am, I want you to ask me anything you desire.”

“When you are here with us, can you push me, encourage me to try new things, to push my fears of what might hurt versus the experience of some hurt that leads to increased pleasure?”

I got out of my chair and knelt alongside her. “I will do anything you want me to do. I want you and Mr. Woodburn to have anything any slut might ever give in service.”

She smiled and gave me a peck on the cheek. Her eyes glanced from me to the kennel and back to me. I sensed that even with my offer she was weighing the appropriateness of asking.

“It was only last week that we got the information about the woman. We were trying to decide what to do about it. Could they be retrained to leave women alone? But, I think Charles began seeing the other question in my mind, but he would never suggest anything like that for me. I don’t think I can even suggest anything like that for myself. But, you … you’ve been around animals. You might have a different perspective.”

I laughed. “Some familiarity maybe but not experience. Dog cocks develop a knot that is thicker than their cocks. That could be a terrifying surprise if you weren’t expecting it.” I looked out at the kennel now. “Maybe you need two things to be considered.” She looked at me quizzically. “First, can the dogs be retrained to leave women alone when the attention is not wanted.” She looked at me funny at the words ‘when the attention is not wanted’. “Second, determine what fucking a dog is like. You might find you never want to pursue doing it and just focus on the training.”

She looked at me with a wry smile. She recognized what I was doing. The training was very possible. Both dogs already responded to the command to sit even when they wanted to sniff. The training just needed to get them to stop molesting women.

I stood and started out into the yard. She caught up within a moment. “You’re going to do it?”

“I don’t know anything about it. I’ve never done it or seen it done. But, being on the farm I have seen dogs mount and other animals, too.”

She grabbed my arm in hers as she walked along tightly beside me. “This is so exciting! I never thought you would do it. I think you might really be a full-blown slut, Tina.”

I smiled, partly to myself, though I knew she saw it, too. “It is what your husband wants me to be.” After a moment of further reflection, “The thing about dogs is the knot that forms at the base of their cocks. It’s a ball that can be significantly larger than the cock. The knot locks them, called a tie, to the bitches to help with insemination. If you aren’t aware of that, it could be a painful surprise.”

“You’re really going to do it. I can’t believe it.” She was so giddy. Maybe I was talking myself into it. “How are you going to do it?”

We were at the kennel. “I have no idea, but it would seem that what experience I lack, they might make up for.”

———————————————————————

This story continues in Chapter 4: Dog and Bitch Training

———————————————————————

I know it is not required, but I would appreciate a comment when negative votes are cast for my own benefit in developing stories. Thanks in advance.