The Transformation Of Betty Ch 02

The first thing I wanted to do as soon as Bill left was to get an understanding of what precisely had happened that night. Aside from the simple voyeur aspects of knowing, I also needed to understand how he had seemingly so effortlessly transformed what I thought was a somewhat reluctant participant in the realization of my fantasy into a slut. I couldn't yet say 'eager slut' since I had no idea how she was going to react when given the chance to calmly contemplate what had happened. And to be honest I was curious as well about my own reaction to things once I had the chance to exhale.

One thing was certain: From the time we began getting ready for the party last night and I knew what I had planned and saw how she dressed to when she was returned to me and compelled to perform, I'd found the whole thing the most erotic experience of my life. And I decided then that the last thing I wanted to do was to discourage her or in any way scare her away from pursuing things further.

The image that today most clearly remains in my mind when I closed the door and turned to face her was her standing there, hands still bound behind her back, eyes focused on the floor doubtlessly out of some sense of embarrassment and uncertainty as to my reaction. It was obvious that the best approach was a touch of tenderness and affection. Walking up to her to give her a hug and loving kiss, I softly whispered "that was wonderful dear, absolutely wonderful."

"Oh god .. I feel so .... so ... Peter, I don't know what I feel" she confessed.

"It was an incredible night, wasn't it. You experienced a level of passion you hadn't thought possible, didn't you?" I asked, with a tone that deliberately tried to communicate that I felt no jealousy about the validity of what I had just said.

"Yes. Oh god, he did things to me, made me do things ... things I'd never done before. But I was so ... I don't know how to describe it. He got me so incredibly turned on. I couldn't say no to anything."

"I guess you learned things about yourself."

"I didn't know I 'd react that way to some of the things he did to me, things that before seemed so naughty. But god, I also found it so erotic. Peter, I don't know if I can really do it again. Do you really want me to become a slut ... your slut ... his slut?"

It was now or never I decided. She had crossed the line and, frankly, I didn't want her going back. "To be honest, Betty, its been the most erotic 12 hours of my life. I can't describe how turned on I was knowing he was fucking you last night and that you had agreed to let him fuck you. I'll admit that I honestly didn't know how far he'd take it. But even thinking about what had just happened with Bill in the living room makes me hard." And then came my bold admission designed to seal my wife's fate as a slut: "Yes, I want to pursue this further and see where it goes. I'll make this promise: If at any time you want it to end, just say so and it will. But otherwise, I find the idea of Bill and I training you incredibly erotic."

In retrospect, I suspect that's precisely what my wife wanted me to say. Not only had she discovered the hidden repressed slut within herself and now didn't want to bury it, she also needed to hear my explicit approval of what had happened. "Ok," she replied, "I'll do what you tell me to do, whatever that means. Just promise to keep me safe. And promise to love me."

"Of course ... always safe. And regardless of what happens now, never question my love. I'll talk to Bill later this afternoon and hear what he has to say and we can go from there."

Despite this somewhat dispassionate exchange, I wanted the eroticism of the morning to continue. I also wanted her to know that it was not only Bill who would control her. "You knew before we even got to the party that I had planned on having Bill to fuck you, didn't you?"

"Yes, you really didn't try to hide that without coming out and explicitly saying it."

'And you decided long before last night, to let it happen, didn't you."

"Yes"

"So you were already a partial slut in your mind when got ready for the party, weren't you?"

"Yes, I suppose that's right."

"And it was Bill who you wanted to fuck, correct?"

"Yes," she answered once again, seemingly uncertain as to whether I approved of her explicit attraction.

"You deliberately wore something especially sexy, something that would turn him on, didn't you?"

"Yes, I knew what you wanted and what he would like," she admitted.

"You would have been disappointed if I hadn't given you to him, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I'll admit I began looking forward to New Year's Eve months ago. And the more I fantasized about it the more it turned me on. I don't remember his exact words, but Bill even dropped a few hints at the last barbeque. So I knew you had already talked to him."

"Are you glad now that you spent the night with him and fucked him?" I asked point blank.

Without an explicit 'yes' she nevertheless admitted "I think you know how turned on I got from it, how easily he made me lose control."

"So it was even better than in your fantasies, wasn't it?"

"Yes" Feeling almost as if I were nailing down a commitment or a contract, I then asked "and you'll do it again whenever you are told to do it, won't you?"

"Yes," was her whispered yet portentous reply.

I felt no jealousy, but I also felt that I couldn't let Bill alone control her. So as if it were the logical conclusion of what we had just said I commanded her "then get on your knees, slut, and suck my cock."

Even though she was still standing in the wetness of her own piss, hands behind her, I think she instinctually understood my motives and immediately did as told. Unzipping my pants to release a cock, I pressed it against her lips until she opened her mouth and, with my hands holding her head, pushed it in: "suck it, suck it good slut, take it in your throat."

She had only infrequently taken my cock in her throat before, and always seemed to gag and protest a bit. But this time she offered no resistance as my cock slid over her tongue straight into her mouth. I pulled her face hard to me, holding it there so I could feel the muscles of her throat contract around me. Then slowly I began fucking her, all the while saying such things as 'take it slut', 'swallow it slut', 'let it fuck your throat slut' with the emphasis on the word 'slut' so as to get her used to being called one by me.

I wasn't long, of course, before my cock again exploded with what had to be a diminished quantity of cum. But now that she had admitted going to the party with the expectation of fucking Bill, there no longer was any need for a soft touch on my part. As soon as I withdrew my cock, I walked behind her, released the cuffs and told her "you best shower and change ... but first clean up your piss." And with that I simply left for the family room to watch TV.

She didn't come down from the bedroom for nearly a half hour, and then only to announce that she really needed to get some sleep ... it had, after all, already been a very long New Year's day. But before I said 'OK' I told her to come to me and turn around, whereupon I lifted the hem of her robe to see if the plug was still in her. Sure enough, it was there ... a clear sign that she meant what she said when expressing a willingness to be trained. With a pat on the ass aimed to tap the plug in a bit, I said simply "go ... get some sleep."

I'll admit to being somewhat tired myself, but before I could doze the phone rang. Sure enough, it was Bill, asking if I wanted to come over to talk.

No question about it ... it is convenient to have someone who wants to fuck and train your wife living only a few doors away. After making sure that Betty was comfortably asleep it took me less than five minutes to ring his doorbell and be ushered into his living room. "Peter, your wife would make a superb sub slut. I wasn't sure when you initially offered her to me whether what I was being offered was a simple fuck or something more. I pushed your wife fairly hard last night to see if I hit any limits and not once did she object to anything. She may have been embarrassed at times, but she did everything I told her to do and let me do everything I wanted to do to her. In fact, it was obvious that there was nothing that I did or had her do that didn't turn her on. She was totally mine from the moment she entered my house until I returned her to you this morning. I'll state things bluntly: She was a total slut all night, just as you saw her this morning."

Despite what I had seen and experienced a few hours earlier, I was still somewhat startled to hear him tell me how readily my wife had surrendered. I didn't know yet all that had happened, but never before had my wife and I spent an entire night fucking or even just 'fooling around'. Yet here I was, being told that my wife had been a total slut and in a near constant state of depraved arousal from shortly past midnight until Bill left my house around noon.

"You realize," I interjected, "that I still don't know all that happened or how you got her to what I saw this morning. I know you fucked, whipped and clamped her and even humiliated her by having her piss for you. For reasons other than merely being a voyeur, I would like to know what happened."

"Yes ... of course," he replied, "but first we need to agree on where she should be taken and how her training might proceed. Let me begin by saying that when I speak of making her a slut, I don't mean someone who fucks anyone and everyone. She will simply fuck whoever we tell her to fuck. This is also the context in which I speak of making her a whore. I have no desire to pimp her on the street or in bars. That's far too dangerous and disease too great a concern. But I do have some friends who, with your consent, I would like to have use her after she is fully trained."

Images of my wife being gang-banged, of cocks in each of her holes and of being made a fuck toy at parties immediately flooded my mind. 'Is this what I want?' I asked myself. I'm not sure I knew the answer then, but it would be dishonest of me to say that I didn't find those flashing images incredibly erotic.

"I also want to tell you," Bill continued, "that my ex-wife was my slut for nearly a decade, but that we divorced for reasons that had nothing to do with sex. I mention her now to suggest that I've had some experience in the D/s lifestyle. I've also had the pleasure of partially training three other subs. But I haven't trained or participated in the training of another man's wife. So in addition to finding your wife especially sexy and attractive, I also relish the prospect of engaging in the long term intensive training of a married slut in cooperation with her husband. What I think I can offer you is not only a wife who is a more sexual creature than you ever imagined her becoming, but I also think I can teach you what I've learned in becoming a sub slut's Master."

Bill's words conveyed a sense of self-confidence without a hint of arrogance. I liked his style and based, I suppose, on my interactions within my profession, immediately developed a sense that this was someone I could work with. Perhaps not as equals at first, but surely I didn't see myself as merely an appendage to the process of my wife's training. I also sensed that Bill wasn't proposing to train her merely to fuck her. He truly relished the process for its own sake. I would soon learn that all of these impressions were absolutely accurate, but at that point I had to interject "there are so many things to be discussed here such as what our relative roles will be, how available she should be to you, what limits we should set on how she is to be used .... not to mention what program you envision for her training."

I felt at that point as if I were asking for a syllabus to some college course, but I then quickly added "it would help me if you could detail a bit how you fucked her last night and how she responded. I also want to clear the table of one issue; namely, I'm not gay or bi. I intend that the focus be strictly my wife."

"Good," he immediately replied. "That's my focus as well and if I thought for a minute that you were in this because you wanted men in some way we wouldn't be having this conversation. Let me add, though, that whether your wife is bi or not, if we proceed all the way in her training, she will be bi when we are done. Right or wrong, I operate under the hypothesis that all women are or can be bi and eventually your wife should be made to experience another woman."

Relieved at what Bill has said about himself and, admittedly, intrigued by the prospect of watching my wife with another woman, I said simply "Good."

"Now let me get on to what happened last night. After she undressed for me upon entering my house and I attached the cuffs to her wrists and ankles I led her to my sofa and had her bend over its back. I could tell she was incredibly nervous and still embarrassed. I could also tell she had no idea what to expect. I raised her skirt and again began playing with her cunt and ass. I still wasn't sure myself at this point whether she was submitting to me because she wanted to or because she was simply doing it for you. But she did get wet fast and once her breathing got heavy I knelt behind her and tongued her until I had her on the edge. But rather than let her cum I know I surprised her by pulling back to attach her ankles to the straps I have on the back legs of the sofa followed by her wrists to the front legs. Peter, you should know that at no stage of this process did she object, try to pull away or even ask me 'what are you doing?' She simply laid there silent and let me tie her down helpless."

Once again my cock was rock hard picturing her bent over with Bill attaching her cuffs to each leg of the sofa – the very sofa I was sitting in. And despite what he had just told me, I still had to ask "she never protested in any way?"

"Not at all. I had her pretty hot at the time, but if she was opposed to being tied down helpless she surely still had the presence of mind to say so. That she didn't told me that despite whatever embarrassment she might have felt initially, she had committed herself to experiencing 'it all'. I want to emphasize, moreover, that strapped down as she was, she knew full well she was now totally at my mercy. There was no longer any path of escape except to tell me she wanted to go home --she knew it and at that point never uttered a word!"

"Interesting, since I'm sure she assumed that she was being sent to your house simply to be fucked,"

"I'm sure that was her initial expectation. But whether you realize it or not, your wife is a natural sub slut, whether she knew it or not. What she did need, though, was the excuse to allow herself to be one. I can't say whether she fantasized about being a slut or if it was a latent unconscious desire. But you gave her that excuse by sending her to me and at some point either before the party or when I began to tie her down she took it."

"Oh, I agree. Sexually at least that was a wholly different woman who arrived at my door this morning than the one I thought I'd married. But like you, I don't know what fantasies played in her head and what desires were revealed to her last night for the first time."

"In any event, I continued playing with her and quite easily got her to beg for my cock ... to beg for anything that would make her to cum. But rather than my cock I simply brought her off several times with a vibe, using it on both her cunt and her ass. By then she was wholly fuckable and capable of cumming any number of times. That's when I left her to retrieve the riding crop from my bedroom."

Needless to say I wished my wife were there the moment Bill revealed he had whipped her ass and not simply spanked it. Light spankings were all that she had experienced with me, and although I had fantasized about using a crop on her, I never had the guts to buy one and present it to her.

"The trick here," Bill continued, slipping into the mode of teacher, "is to not surprise the slut, but to let her know what's coming. So I showed her the crop and told her that she was going to become intimately acquainted with it. She begged ... somewhat unconvincingly I might add ... to not use it on her, but what she didn't fully understand was what I meant by 'intimately'. Rather than merely smack her ass with it as a wannabe Dom is likely to do, I used it to play with her ... rubbing her clit, pushing it into her cunt, and so on. I then took the handle and slowly worked it into her ass, then fucked her with it while rubbing her cunt and clit until she came again. When training a slut to enjoy a crop, the first thing you must do is get them to cum from it absent the pain. After pulling it out I used it again to play with her, this time telling her she was a slut and a whore. Periodically I'd give her a hard crack across the ass, but would immediately return to using it to excite her. My intent was not to inflict pain for its own sake, but to combine it with pleasure so that the two became one."

I felt at that point as if I were attending a BDSM 101 lecture and that I should be taking notes. Of course, the one thing that would have precluded useful notes then was my throbbing cock. "God that's erotic," was all that I could say in response to Bill unfolding account.

"Well, let me say that I knew she was going to cum, and cum hard when I finally whipped her, so I paused and did the prudent thing ... I gagged her. No need for the neighbors to know what was happening in my house. I again built her up to the edge and when she crashed over it I gave her three or four truly hard cracks across the ass. Peter, I bet she came harder then than she'd ever cum before. I thought for a minute she'd pull her hands out of the cuffs, not in an attempt to escape, but from the intensity of her convulsions. Her whole body shook and it was a damn good thing I gagged her or the neighbors would have heard her scream."

It occurred to me then that Bill's description of how he had used my wife was intended not merely to convey facts, but also to make me want to see the whole process repeated. And in that objective he was 100% right.

"Normally, after that, I would give a slut some time to collect her senses. But you have to realize that I still hadn't put my cock in her. So that's what I did ... in her reddened ass. I fucked her hard and I'll tell you, she came again at about the same time I spilled my first load of seed into her. Only then did I give her 15 minutes or so to settle down."

'So that was it' I though to myself ... 'that was how my sweet innocent wife had another man's cock in her for the first time. She had it shoved up her ass!' I understood, however, that Bill's description of the night was anything by done. He still hadn't gotten to the point of having her piss. And I was certain that he hadn't fucked her only once. So I said simply "about what time was it then?"

"Probably around 2:30 or 3:00AM.."

"I'm curious as hell as to what happened next. This is not only arousing, but I'll admit that I want to see all of this repeated again with her. I'm utterly fascinated to learn how slutty my wife can be."

"Trust me, I'm sure you're going to see her be much more of a slut than she even was last night. I'm convinced she has all the potential to become a totally uninhibited slut – so much so that if we wanted her to be a true whore, I'd bet she could be. I think that what she ultimately becomes will depend more on us than on her. In any event, to finish up, after she rested for maybe 15 minutes or so I released her and let her lay on the floor for another 15 minutes. You're young but you'll find out eventually that the older you get the longer it takes for a man to recharge. So probably around 3:30 or so I sat where you are now and told her to stand and face me. Betty, by the way, has beautiful tits," he stated with something of a grin, "so how could I resist not clamping them? My preference here is tweezer clips connected by a chain. Not only are they adjustable, but they're not so bulky that they can't be worn under clothing. What you'll find interesting is that when I attached them, making sure they were tight enough to hurt, she simply stood there, occasionally letting out an involuntary whimper from behind her gag, but never moving away or offering any resistance."