Seven
The rest of the day was uneventful for Violet. She spent a lot of time soaking in a tub, hoping to soothe away the various aches and pains of her nether region. She tried to think about what Darren told her that morning, about accepting her situation and getting pleasure out of it. She wanted to believe that was possible. She'd tried to convince herself of something similar after her confrontation with Abigail Condon. She was married to an ultra-rich man who didn't look bad for his age and made few demands on her time. She was free to do almost anything she wanted.
The demands on her time were the problem, though. She could deal with Darren fucking her in the morning. She was getting better at blowjobs; she'd found some exercises online that were supposed to stretch her jaw, and she could actually take the electronic dildo in her mouth without setting off the sensors now. But she could only do it the first time she pushed it in, and only if she did it slow. As soon as she tried to actually move like she was giving a blowjob she kept scraping with her teeth. She'd started to think about carrying the ring gag around with her. Her third Sunday session was coming up though, and she just couldn't see a way to enjoy that. She only liked eating pussy when someone else was taking care of hers, and there was no way that would happen. She'd trained her ass enough that it wasn't agonizing pain anymore, but it still hurt more than it felt good, and now she had the added worry of Chad, who clearly intended to return this week and probably would try to fuck her ass dry again. She found herself hoping Manny and the two black security guards would get to her first, possibly even a few times each, just so her ass would have some kind of lubricant in it when Chad showed up.
Sitting in the tub, she suddenly realized she was seriously considering the merits of having enough guys fuck her ass so it could be lubed up with cum, and of carrying a ring gag so her husband wouldn't have to wait when he came to her for a blowjob, and wondered if her friend Cherise would still be jealous.
* * * * *
Darren found Violet at four in the afternoon, sitting on their bed curled up in the fetal position. Her face was pressed to her knees and when she looked up it was clear she'd been crying. If Violet had been hoping for sympathy from her husband it wasn't forthcoming. Darren's face hardened again and he strode over to the bed, undoing his pants as he went. Violet hesitated when he stopped at the edge and then started slowly moving toward him. It wasn't fast enough for Darren. As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her arm and yanked, jerking her over. She yelped and found herself dragged across the bed. Darren's arms and hands seemed to move at blinding speed and suddenly her arms were pinned behind her back. He pulled and pain flared in her shoulder. She gasped out loud, which opened her mouth enough for him to place the gag. Then he dropped her and trapped her arms on the bed. She now lay flat on her back, her head hanging off the edge, meaning she was in a perfect position for him to slide his cock into her throat.
He did that, immediately and deeply. Violet gagged as she hadn't been prepared for it, but it was the gag of a choked airway rather than suppressed vomit. He withdrew and paused for a second, apparently not looking to actually deprive his wife of oxygen, then resumed. Violet managed to get a breath in and hold it before her husband's rod slid back into her mouth. With her position and the ring gag guaranteeing space in her mouth, his cock slid straight down into her throat without stopping, and it went deeper than it ever had before. He got so much penetration his balls actually settled against her face.
Once he positioned himself appropriately, Darren just began fucking Violet's throat, never fully withdrawing. Violet had to stay in position and take it or risk hurting him, and she didn't want to think about what would happen then. She started swallowing by reflex, trying to keep herself from choking on her own spit and because her throat tried to clear the invading member as it slid in and out each time. She didn't know it, but the reactions were perfectly stimulating Darren's penis, though he knew it wasn't her doing at all.
When it seemed obvious Violet wasn't going to move, Darren let go of her arms and put his hands on her breasts. The large globes were shifting slightly back and forth, well defined and mostly pushed up thanks to Violet's bra. Violet was briefly proud of herself; the bra had always been one of her favorites, a Victoria's Secret special she'd splurged on a year after graduating when she'd decided on her plan to catch a rich man with her body. She wondered if Darren remembered it was the bra she wore the first time they were together.
She never found out. Darren caressed her breasts through the clothing, then suddenly and violently bunched it up and ripped. The bra was a front-clasp and only held by a small piece of plastic that almost instantly gave way. Violet's breasts lay exposed to the air, jiggling slightly as Darren's thrusts into her throat moved her body. He grabbed the bare mammaries and kneaded them, apparently just enjoying the feel of having the large tits in his hands as none of his motions explicitly teased or stimulated Violet.
Violet was at least grateful because his manhandling of her tits seemed to stimulate him more. His pace increased and became slightly less steady, which she'd learned was a signal he was close. Sure enough, after a few more shaky thrusts he slid his cock deep and erupted.
Violet had to clench every muscle in her body to keep from vomiting or panicking. She couldn't breathe at all; even if her throat were clear her nose was blocked by Darren's sack. He stayed there for what felt like ages and Violet thought the edges of her vision were graying. She'd automatically swallowed all of his cum just because he was so deep she had no other choice. He finally pulled out and Violet sucked in air like a drowning victim, then coughed as her throat tried to return to its normal shape.
"We'll skip the cleaning for now since I was in your mouth anyway," Darren said, "When you're done feeling sorry for yourself in this French guest villa in the beautiful countryside that your near-billionaire husband took you to on a private jet, there's an outfit for you in the guest bedroom. We're having company for dinner."
Violet waited until he'd left before rolling over. She got out of her clothes slowly and looked at the destroyed bra. It was the last piece of clothing she'd brought with her. The last thing she'd still had that was hers and not a product of the messed up marriage arrangement. Even though it was stupid, she felt like it was a turning point. Like somehow she was really, irrevocably trapped now.
* * * * *
The "outfit" in the guest bedroom was only one piece of clothing, which Violet put on. It would have been a little black dress that held tight to her curves except it was made of lace, and the thin material was not tightly knit. The thicker designs in the mesh were placed over strategic areas, but her entire body was basically visible in it, particularly from the back, where the patterns did nothing but break up the web. No underwear had been set out with the dress, and given Darren's mood Violet guessed she shouldn't tempt fate by trying to wear any.
The man who arrived at the door a little over an hour later was younger than almost everyone who'd been at Darren's wedding as a "friend," but he creeped her out more than anyone she'd met. She stood next to Darren inside the front door and he spent a long and very obvious amount of time ogling her until Darren caught his attention and greeted him as a "Mister Chevalier." The man replied only in French, and even through his usually stoic visage, Violet could tell Darren was annoyed.
