CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal for October 12^th (Wednesday).

Joanne has left the house with Mort to go to the nearby Olive Garden and confront the security guard that blackmailed her to show up tonight.

What is wrong with me?

Am I crazy?

I wasn’t worried about the teenage son home with the hot cheerleader. I’m sure his Dad and friends would be extremely proud if he started dating her – and good for him if he did.

I wasn’t even worried and upset about my youngest daughter. She had just stripped naked and stood in front of two strange boys and her brothers without an ounce of fear or shame on her face. I should probably have been home having a very long and loving talk with her.

I had that talk with her in my mind as I drove towards the Olive Garden. “Janie, what your father and I do is between consenting adults. I am his slave, but I chose that after careful consideration. I enjoy pleasing your father and serving him. What we do in the bedroom should never have been your business and I am so sorry that you know as much as you do. I understand that your sister’s discipline plan has been extreme and I apologize for that, too. We’ve been flying by the seat of our pants here – at least, I have. I know your father has a plan, and I trust in that plan, but it’s been just me here and I’ve probably messed things up. In the process, you’ve been convinced that not only is drinking cum going to calm you and make you more relaxed and considerate, but that you should submit in a similar fashion to discipline. You’re an angel, though. There’s room for improvement – you certainly aren’t perfect – but in no way would I ever think you needed the kind of rigorous loss of privilege and training that your sister is getting, and I am sure your father would agree.”

Ooh – her father! I would need to text him. I was frankly ashamed of how things were turning out and unsure of what I’d tell him – how much I’d tell him. “Your daughter stripped naked for her friend today.” isn’t something I thought would make a good text message. I decided it would be better to tell him that in person, although a part of me realized I was procrastinating because I still wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to believe any of it.

It had all happened so fast. I was standing in the kitchen, commiserating with the neighbor about tonight, when Hope skipped into the kitchen to tell me joyfully that my daughter was bare-ass naked. I was so worried about what she may think, and what Donny was thinking, that I really didn’t stop to talk to Janie at all about her behavior.

I would definitely need to have a long talk with her about it. I contemplated even keeping her home from school so we could have some alone-time. She had excellent attendance, and one day wouldn’t hurt her grades.

All of this contemplation of course was keeping me from the real impish demon playing havoc inside my tummy – bouncing around and scaring all the butterflies into a mass migration. I knew that soon I would be at Olive Garden and the security guard would be waiting.

“So what should I do when we get there, Ma’am?” Mort has asked me at least seven times before I registered his question and answered.

“What did you do when you went with your sister this afternoon?” I asked him as we pulled into the parking lot.

“You really want to know?” Mort told me he had to dress up in a wig and act out every scene that his sister had performed in one of her movies. “She knew I would remember every scene perfectly!”

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked as I shut off the Prius in the parking lot of the Olive Garden. The sign above said, “When you’re here – you’re Family!” and I had to chuckle that with my family, that wasn’t too far off.

“At first it was fun, but there are a few scenes where she has to suck on guy’s assholes, and that got a little rough. It wasn’t as glamorous as I thought.”

I sighed, thinking that it never was, as we exited the car.

I was hoping for a no-show, but the security guard stood there smugly watching as I exited the car.

“Hah, I knew he was bluffing,” Mort whispered to me and pointed out he didn’t have his friends after all.

That relieved some of my tension – I would only need to suck his dick once and then I could go back home.

“Right on time.” The security guard was handsome and fit, but there was something dark about him. I felt he was at least glowering at me like a wolf staring across a field at his intended prey, daring it to run so that he can give chase and inevitably catch it in his powerful jaws so he could rend it apart.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” I looked at my feet.

“Oh, come on now, Jugs! Don’t be like that.” He pinched my nipples through my smock as if he owned them and twisted my piercings. “You like that, don’t you? Of course you do.” He reached under my smock and felt my pussy.

I put up no resistance to his pawings – my only desire was to get out of the parking lot and get this humiliating ordeal over with quickly.

“Shaved and wet,” he smugly announced, and sniffed his finger “Smells like strawberry with a hint of magnolia. I like that you take care of yourself,” he said as he patted my bottom.

I kept myself clean and fragrant for my husband! A part of me wanted to tell this guy that it wasn’t for him and put him in his place. I don’t know why, though; being inspected and fondled like that made me fold up as timidly as Mr. Goldman.

He was of no use in defending me – not that he was there for that. He stood there awkwardly waiting and watching.

“You told me to be here and I’m here,” I muttered while he continued playing with my pussy. “Can we do it behind the dumpster like before?” I asked.

“A dumpster whore?” The security guard smiled as if he were proud of me for the suggestion. There was a fence around the dumpster, offering some relative privacy.

“We did it there before,” I explained while he led me by the hand as if he were an eager groom taking me to the bridal chamber.

“So you come along to get a little taste of the action or what?” The security guard had ignored Mort until now. He showed nothing but contempt for Mort’s mild-mannered attitude.

“I am just here to help however she wants, sir,” Mort answered him plainly.

“Well, she isn’t calling the shots,” the guard added, “I am!”

“Then whatever you want, Sir,” Mort answered generously. I was surprised he didn’t quake with fear when he said it.

“You can hold the lady’s clothes while we fuck her,” he said as he brought me into the fenced-in dumpster area. I’ll never forget that familiar smell of sweat and old pasta as I walked into the darkened area and realized the guard had referred to “we” instead of himself.

Seven of his friends were standing quietly with their arms folded. They were trying to seem ominous, but the look on some of their faces told me they really didn’t think I would show up – or that I would look as pretty as I did.

There were black ones, Mexican ones, skinny ones, a fat one, a tall one, a short one. In the dark, I couldn’t really tell you too much about their features.

I could tell you all about their cocks. They were hesitant to take them out, although no one looked at each other – they all stared straight at me. I was standing there meekly looking back at these men in the dark who wanted to fuck me.

It seemed so surreal – how did I get into this situation? This was really going to happen.

“So if I do this, we’re even and you won’t come around my house asking about anything else?” I asked the security guard while summoning up as much courage as I could and planting my feet firmly on the ground.

“Do what?” he grinned sadistically.

“Fuck all of you?” I began to peel off my smock, feeling like an innocent lamb being led to the slaughter. I had seen dicks before and even attended an orgy or two in my time, but always with Tom and quite a bit more tasteful than the darkened corner of a dumpster behind Olive Garden. I was hardly an innocent schoolgirl, but I’d been told this was just oral sex, and now they seemed to have other plans.

“You don’t seem like you’re going to have a problem with that? You may even like it,” Tony, the security guard who’d set this up, said, adding, “We have a couple ladies about your age who actually enjoy this.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I’d heard rumors even about the family that lived in the house we did before we moved. Those rumors led me to believe there were some kinky housewives in this upper-scale neighborhood, and it wouldn’t surprise me that after a few glasses of wine at Olive Garden they wanted some no-questions-asked rough sex with strange men.

I removed the simple sarong-style outfit that I wore frequently around the house. It looked quite vanilla in public settings, but underneath I was wearing nothing but my day collar and a pair of simple heels, as well as Bud, my ever-present butt-plug. I handed my clothes to Mr. Goldman, neatly folded, and stood there for the guys to get a good look at my naked body. I was very tan from an afternoon of digging in the yard and proud of how I looked – I didn’t hide anything from their eyes.

“Jeez, look at the tits on her. I had no idea they were that big from the outfit,” one of the guys staring in the dark observed. They chuckled and commented on the size of my ass and tits and how I was built like a ‘brick shithouse’.

One of them quipped, “Wow, look at those tits!” and I smiled at him – even though their faces were darkened shadow.

“My sister has tits,” Tony, the guard that had arranged this, reminded him, “…this one has JUGS.” He lifted one of my nipples and let it fall, tapping the metallic bronze nipple shield I wear on my tits. “Kinky, this one,” he observed. He looked like a very ordinary, honest guy, but in the darkness his smile seemed ominous – I wasn’t scared, though.

If he meant to do me harm he wouldn’t have had so many witnesses. He was planning to fuck the shit out of me, not kill me.

“Get a good look, Sir.” I smiled proudly and spoke with the submissive tone I would have expected from my daughter. I was going to have to please this man, and the advice I had given Taylor was you may as well smile and look happy about it whether you were or not. I’ll be honest that I should have been frightened, offended and disgusted. I wasn’t, though – I was strangely looking forward to getting them off and making them cum so that I could get on with things.

I was being blackmailed, but no one had a gun to my head. I could have just as easily flipped this guy the bird and threatened to go to his boss. I think having become an accidental Mistress had done something to my confidence where I didn’t really think about the danger I may be in with a bunch of strange men fondling me in the dark.

I told myself I was being brave by just getting on with serving them, but in hindsight my observation is that I wanted to do this for three reasons:

1 – I had convinced myself that giving in to them was preferable to Tom and my family finding out the nasty things I’d done. If you start pulling this string, I’d have to admit I was originally drunk at Olive Garden, and sucking off the guidance counselor from the high school who just happened to be getting married to my neighbor’s daughter. I wanted to keep this dirty little secret, and even though Mort Goldman was a scheming weasel, I felt I could trust him with my dirty little secret like I did letting him watch me train out in the yard.

2 – I really thought I had the good common sense to do things to protect my family and myself. However, if it came down to it, and I found out Taylor had led on a bunch of guys to meet her at a dumpster, I would have made her jerk off each and every one of them and lap up their cum – and if she’d promised them a blowjob like I had, then I probably would have made her do that as well. It was a dark thought I didn’t want to dwell on very much, but I contemplated how guilty I felt for making her submit in ways I myself was way too cowardly to do.

This submission to these strangers was to be a one-off dumpster fuck that Tom and my family would never find out about, but wrapped up with a strange sense of karmic justice – that I could submit to something this devious as long as they didn’t learn of what I was doing.

I know that may sound silly or confusing, but it made sense to me at the time.

3 – I never really wanted to be a Mistress. I told Tom as much, and I’d made so many bad decisions that I felt guilty about – there was some sense of redemption in just submitting to the will and pleasure of someone else.

I’m not sure I believed any of those at the time, but I’d have plenty of time to dwell on them as the men awkwardly looked me over, waiting for some signal that they could descend upon me. They seemed to be waiting for a signal from the lead security guard before actually committing this.

“Hey, what’s that in your ass?” an Asian man in his forties asked curiously as he sized up my bare bottom.

“I assume you mean Bud, Sir.” I smiled at him and seeing he didn’t understand my reference, explained that it was the name for my butt-plug.

The men laughed when they heard me say it.

“Can I see it?” he asked curiously.

I smiled at him like he was a naïve but inquisitive child asking to see one of my toys. “You want to take it out, Sir?” I pulled my ass cheeks apart wide for him to have a look at the circular diamond crystal in between my cheeks.

“I mean,” the Asian man asked with a trace of sarcasm, “how else are we going to butt-fuck you with it in?”

He asked the question so plainly and without a trace of guilt that I was stunned at how it was a forgone conclusion now they would have me in all three holes. Most wives I’m told won’t give up the booty to their husband, but Tom had obviously long since trained me to surrender all three of my holes to HIM.

However, he never shared that part of me with other men. I’ve mostly played with other couples when it was Tom and I, and other than oral sex I rarely engaged in actual sex with the male.

“Mort, be a dear and remove Bud for me?” I asked Mr. Goldman to take the plug out just as plainly as the Asian man had let me know my ass was up for grabs as well. I had put on a brave face up to this point, but fear was starting to dawn on me that I had no idea what I was in for with these men.

“Just hold on to it, Ma’am?” Mort was awkwardly holding my clothes and seemed excited to be asked to participate and yet at the same time nervous – which is pretty much how he came across all of the time anyway.

“Unless you want to hold it in your mouth until we’re done so you can clean it for me?” I was teasing him with a playful look over my shoulder while holding my ass cheeks apart for him.

“Are you going to tell my sister if I don’t, Ma’am?” If I had to speculate, Mort was fishing for me to actually order him to do that instead of asking him. I wasn’t much of a Mistress to my daughter, but I was going to give him what he seemed to like: a strong female authority figure.

“Yes, of course I am.” I told him plainly to get the plug into his mouth, and that if he didn’t want to pull it out with his teeth he had five seconds to take it out gently before I thought of other things I wanted him to do.

“Wow, your husband sure is whipped,” the Asian man giggled while Mort gently removed the butt-plug out of my ass. He slid it out slowly as he watched my asshole pucker and release the stainless steel sex toy to him.

“Mort isn’t my husband, Sir.” I turned to the man and began to kneel in front of him. “He’s my neighbor’s sex slave – I’m just borrowing him for tonight.”

That comment made Mort actually smile as he inserted my plug into his mouth happily. I felt bad he had to taste my bottom on the plug, but if it bothered him, he certainly didn’t show it.

“Can I suck your dick hard before you use my asshole, Sir?” I didn’t wait for permission. I had practiced unzipping pants and pulling a cock out with just my mouth for most of my marriage. I had enough tricks in giving head that I knew I could make him cum long before he ever got to my ass if I wanted.

The man didn’t respond verbally. Once his semi-hard cock was in my mouth he began stroking my hair and trying to move my head for me. Tom would choke-fuck me at times, but he knew how to use his cock to gag down my throat. I wasn’t used to a more passive man trying to just angle my head slightly.

I let him guide me and took the entire length of his shaft once it got hard down my throat. It wasn’t long before he stopped trying to move my head and let me get on with sucking him.

Once I had him where I wanted, I looked over my shoulder coyly with the same expression of the little lost lamb being led to the slaughter. I batted my eyes like a Kewpie doll and told them sweetly, “We can do this one at a time, but it’ll go a lot of faster if one of you wants to take me from behind.”

It didn’t take long for a tall white guy to step up and accept my offer. His dick wasn’t big and he slid it into my wet pussy with ease. He didn’t bother asking about a condom, and despite what I had heard about diseases and whatnot, I just didn’t bother to insist on them either.

“I’ve got two hands,” I said after giving more attention to slobbing down on the Asian guy’s dick and waved my hands out at the side. No one moved – they were all watching.

I had to spell it out for them: “Two of you can be on either side of me putting your dick in my hand so I can get you ready to take the front or the back,” I offered invitingly.

The entire time I did this, Mort watched quietly and passively with Bud sticking out of his mouth. I felt a little sympathy for him as he watched me get fucked.

The men weren’t nearly as rough as I’d expected. Some of them finished quite quickly and others needed some help. I even let the Asian man get behind me when after three minutes he hadn’t cum and his friend had.

He started to fuck me and I looked over my shoulder. “Are you still going to put it in my ass?”

He had short dark hair and kind of looked like just a mild-mannered accountant. “We can really fuck you in the ass?” he wanted to confirm as he rubbed my butt like he was going to smack it.

“That’s why I took Bud out – three holes, no waiting,” I offered with a sweet innocence that was tempered with a naughty-aggressiveness that I had no fear of what he may do to my ass.

“You need lube?” he asked as he lined up his dick to my asshole.

“You can spit on my ass, Sir,” I told him, adding that I’ve worn a butt-plug for almost every day since my honeymoon. “As long as you slide it in and don’t try to jab it in me, you should be fine.”

A heavy-set Southern man in the background made an awkward joke “If you wore a butt-plug every day it should be like an orchestra hall in there!” as he chortled a belly laugh.

“No, Sir, I’m tight as a drum. The butt-plug stretches me out to accommodate big dicks, but it also works my muscles so that I can wrap it around small ones like yours and squeeze the love out.” I said it so sweetly that it didn’t sound mean or sarcastic at all.

The men all laughed at the guy.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to offend,” I lied – I did want to goof on him. “Come around to my face and let me see what you’re packing!” I had just finished taking another guy in the face and cum was starting to pool in the corner of my mouth.

I have to say, I do love the taste of cum. I noticed that each guy had a slightly different flavor and consistency, and it made me wonder if people who love artisan French cheeses feel the same way. The cheese usually has a pungent odor and is an acquired taste, but once you get used to it, you crave it.

I was craving it, and I didn’t waste any time telling the man, “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of – that’s a nice thick cock.”

I was being generous – it was quite average, but my advice to my daughter had been to say anything you need to say to get the man turned on.

“Much bigger than my neighbor’s dick,” I giggled up at Mort and saw a twinkle in his eye. While I wasn’t sure if I’d gone too far making fun of him, he didn’t complain; and the men found it much easier to laugh at the strange cuckold than one of their own.

When the Southern belly-guy finished in my mouth, he reached across my back and slapped me on the ass to spank me with a guttural, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Sir.” I swallowed his cum and called for the next one. Initially, I thought there were only seven but in the blur of dicks it seemed like there must have been a dozen of them buzzing around me – I hadn’t really counted, and I’d only done the first few.

I have to admit –there was something intensely erotic about all the attention, even if I knew deep down I was a total whore for fucking these strange men – I couldn’t stop cumming and grinding on dicks like a dumb cunt.

“Wait a second, can’t this feller here,” the Southern guy indicated Mort with his thumb, “put that little dick in you too?”

Mort shook his head no, that he wasn’t permitted.

“Oh, c’mon.” The Southern guy generously offered my services without question. “I want to see what you’re working with!” He smiled a toothy smile.

I have to admit, I felt strangely betrayed when Mort took down his pants and stuck his tiny cock into my mouth. He’d been my ally and partner in all of this, and he didn’t wait for my permission.

I suppose he didn’t need it, given the position I was in at the moment. His sister had put me in charge, but I was bent over naked behind a dumpster and surrounded by strange men pulling their cocks – so I couldn’t really argue.

It did sting in a way, though, that he began to use my face like I was his whore. It took him less than 10 seconds to cum for me, and I kissed his dick as he put it away.

Tony was the only one who was rough. He put his hands around my throat and rode me from behind and yanked my hair. His fingernails drove into my back, but in the end when he came, he gave a silent scream and pulled out without another word.

The men took a little while to warm up to things – many of them kept their pants on all the way through the exercise, only allowing me to see their dick once they pulled it out in front of my face.

I remained bent over and throughout most of it had a dick in both hands, one in my pussy or ass, and one in my mouth.

There weren’t many of them who could manage a second go-round, and by the end my pussy and asshole were dripping cum, as both were thoroughly used and sore. I smiled when I finished the last of them.

“Looks like you got sloppy seconds,” the heavy set Southern smacked the youngest of the bunch on the back when he had the final turn.

“More like sloppy seventeenths, bruh.” Tony the security guard laughed and told me I did well. “I’ll be in touch when we want to schedule another,” he smirked.

“You said if I did this we were done, Sir,” I reminded him.

“We’re done,” Tony smiled sarcastically and told me that I was done for this evening.

The strangest thing about his statement was that I didn’t feel done. I was hot and turned on and I could have done more men. I could satisfy myself a lot more readily with the collection of toys in our bedroom.

The one thing that could have satisfied me the most?

Tom’s embrace.

The wind shifted and it started to rain lightly – the brisk breeze from the cold water made my nipples hard as the wind hit my face.