Slave Girl Read online

  "No. Don't touch me. Just give me some space here. I need to think. I have to go to court right now. I don't have time for this. How could you do this to me, Jill?” He didn't expect an answer, wouldn't listen when she tried to explain. He stood up and said, “Look, I have to get some papers and I'll see you tonight. We can talk then. Stop crying. Stop. I'll see you tonight.” And he was gone.

  * * * *

  It took a few weeks, but Barry actually forgave her. She was so truly contrite and sorry, swearing that it would never happen again, and she really meant it. A little wild sex wasn't worth losing a marriage! Sex with Barry had settled back into its usual dull routine. The first week after he had caught her, it had been exciting. Because he was so needy, so aware of having almost lost her, and she felt the same for him, they brought a certain desperation to their lovemaking that masqueraded as passion. But as he became complacent, he relaxed, and she began to make grocery lists in her head again, or daydream while he made love to her body.

  Still, no more Ken. She wasn't going down that road again. She did think about him though. About the wild sex they had, and how alive she felt when she was with him. If she'd known that was out there before she married Barry, she might have thought twice before so readily accepting his proposal. Her fingers would idle down to her pussy while she was lying by the pool, alone, sipping a glass of wine. She would make herself come with visions of Ken, his cock buried in her pussy or her ass, his strong arms keeping her from getting away...

  To channel this excess sexual energy, Jill started working out more at the club. She joined a cycling class taught by Andrew, a cute young guy who was really built. One day after class Andrew called to her, “Jill. Could you stay after for a second?” Jill nodded, still sitting on her cycle as the other people filed out of the class, heading off to shower or swim.

  "Thanks. I just wanted to say I really like your style on the bike. You have excellent stamina and great form."

  "Wow. Thanks. I enjoy it. It relaxes me.” She flushed with pleasure at his compliment.

  "I was wondering, we have an opening for a teacher for cycling in the afternoons, on Mondays and Wednesdays. Mandy's taking a leave of absence to travel and we have a spot to fill. Any way you'd be interested in teaching the class?"

  "Me? Teach?” She started to say no automatically, that she couldn't possibly. But then she thought, why not? It would be fun.

  Before she could say yes or no he hurried on. “It'd just be for a few months, and your membership fee would be waived, and we can pay you a small stipend. It isn't much but—"

  "I'll do it."

  "You will? That's great!” Andrew grinned at her, and it made him look like a 12 year old boy. A very handsome 12 year old boy.

  "How old are you?” Jill blurted without thinking.

  "What? Oh, I'm 22, why?"

  "I don't know. You look so young!"

  "Well, you aren't much older, are you?"

  "Not much,” she laughed, feeling rather ancient suddenly at her ripe old age of 26.

  "Well,” he said, his expression quizzical, “could you start on Monday? We can meet when you have time to go over the routines and stuff. It's really easy; you won't have any trouble."

  "It's a deal."

  * * * *

  She hadn't meant to do it. She had been sincere when she promised Barry never again. But something about Andrew intrigued her. He didn't come on to her the way most guys seemed to. He was all business when he was training her for the class. He didn't respond to her little flirtations. Somehow this seemed to challenge her, and she stepped up the charm. Was she too old for this guy? Was that the deal? Never a very secure person, despite her beauty, Jill felt he was rejecting her.

  In point of fact, he would never have responded to flirtations from a member of the club, no matter how gorgeous or available. He'd had plenty of opportunity as rich idle women selected him as their personal trainers, and then dressed to kill, posing suggestively as they did their workouts in front of him. Usually he ignored it, or was mildly amused, occasionally flattered. But he liked his job too much to risk it, and company policy was very clear about dating the members.

  He did sometimes date staff, but Jill was still off limits. And the rings on her finger spoke clearly of her status as a married woman, and therefore taken. He accepted her invitation to lunch, however, because she was so sweet, and she had helped him out of the scheduling jam with the cycling class.

  They met at a little Italian place, and over wine she became overtly flirtatious. Andrew was having a very hard time resisting this lovely woman. Being off his home turf of the club, he had lost his bearings somewhat. He decided to confront her on it. “What exactly are we doing here, Jill?"

  Jill looked flustered and had the grace to blush. “Whatever do you mean?” she managed, eyes wide and innocent.

  "Well,” Andrew said, “unless I'm totally misreading you, you seem interested in me. As more than a friend. But I know you're married, and I don't know what's going on."

  Jill was hiding her face in her hands. She was mortified! God, she was so obvious. What was wrong with her! Here she was going after this kid! Why? Because he didn't slobber all over her, and that was a challenge? It was so embarrassing. She looked up and said, “I'm so stupid. I hope you can forgive me. I don't know what I think I'm doing. I don't think I'm thinking very clearly. I'm really sorry if I've offended you."

  His heart melted. “It's ok. Really. I'd love to have an affair with you. God, who wouldn't. It's just you're a member of the club and—"

  "An affair! I wasn't looking to have an affair!” She felt affronted, righteous even, but a part of her knew he was dead on the money. She was looking again, feeling needy, deprived by her lack of sexual connection with Barry. It was like a drug. Ken had opened something in her she didn't know existed, and now she was looking for it on the sly. Not even admitting to herself that she was after that thrill again.

  Andrew was slightly annoyed. He knew he hadn't been misreading her. Now she was just defending herself, backtracking to keep from being humiliated. “No hard feelings,” he said, smiling. “I must have misread your cues.” But he knew he hadn't. He was going to test this girl out, see if she was thinking with her head or her pussy. “Hey, I have the afternoon off; what say we go back to my place? I have some neat new equipment I'd love to show you. Not many people appreciate the finer distinctions of a really good stationary cycle."

  Jill thought of the otherwise long afternoon at home alone and said, “Sure, why not?"

  After they climbed several flights of stairs, Andrew unlocked the door, opening it to a loft—one large room with concrete walls and floors, half of which contained exercise equipment to rival any gym. He bowed slightly, smiling toward Jill, gesturing her in. The other half of the room contained stereo equipment and a double bed covered with a hand stitched quilt. There was a small kitchenette and an even smaller bathroom. The room was saved by a large window that ran the length of one entire wall, letting in lots of sunlight and a beautiful view of trees and a well tended garden below.

  "This is great,” Jill said, swirling around as she took it in. “And your equipment, wow!” Andrew showed her his exercise equipment, puffing up proudly over his new Z2010 Nautilus Aerobicycle. As she bent over to examine it, he lightly circled her with his arms. She twisted around to face him, her heart beating with excitement. She didn't care if she had promised Barry to be good. What would it matter, anyway? One little fling with this guy, that's all it was. It wasn't an affair, for heaven's sake! Just scratching an itch. It had been over a month since she'd seen Ken. She had never heard from him again once Barry had discovered him, nor had she tried to call him.

  But Andrew was so young, so fresh. His body was hard and well-muscled. She wanted to feel that body against hers. She leaned in, closing her eyes, waiting for a kiss. When there was none forthcoming, she opened her eyes, pulling away from his embrace.

  Smiling, acting unaware of the sexual tension betw
een them, Andrew said, “Would you like to see my new free weights? You could try them out if you want.” Embarrassed that he hadn't kissed her, but feeling grateful for the out, Jill nodded. In the corner of the room hundreds of pounds of steel lay waiting to be lifted. Andrew had Jill lie on the bench, on her back. He stood over her and handed her a pair of small weights that he had her raise and lower a number of times. He handed her a heavier set.

  "Now, Jill. I want you to hold the weights just like that, yes. A little higher. Good. Now don't move. You might get hurt if you drop those weights.” All of the sudden his hands were on her stomach, moving in slow, sexy swirls across her midriff. She gasped at the unexpected touch, but had to admit it felt wonderful. Then his hands slid slowly upward, till they found her breasts. His fingers were relentless as they slid under the fabric of her bra, pushing it up so that her breasts were exposed to his probing fingers.

  She was still holding up the weights, though her arms were getting tired now. His fingers rolled her now rock-hard nipples in a tight grasp, till she moaned with pleasure. Smiling, he leaned forward and gently took the weights from her hands. Her arms fell limply to her sides, the muscles spent from her exertion.

  Andrew was grinning at her. He had her number all right. Then he kissed her mouth. She responded ardently, making soft moaning sighs. “Not looking for an affair, huh? I totally got you wrong, huh?” As he spoke, his voice teasing, he kissed her mouth, her neck, her hair. She tried to be angry, and she truly was embarrassed at her own eager display. But there was no denying that she was very aroused.

  Pulling away suddenly, Andrew stood back. She could see the rise in his pants, and felt her own wetness and need. He grinned at her and said, “Admit it, Jill. You came back here with me for one thing, didn't you?” She looked away, her face hot. “Admit it."

  Jill got up from the bench, smoothing her long hair from her face. She turned toward the window, confused. Andrew came up from behind and spun her around. He grabbed her erect nipples through her sheer blouse and said, “You are a prick tease, aren't you, Jill? Is that what this is? You lead on young guys like me to make yourself feel hot? We're real people you know, us young studs, not just your little fuck toys for when hubby is away doing his secretary—"

  He stopped mid sentence because Jill had slapped his face. She hadn't meant to and stepped back, gasping, starting to apologize. Andrew's hand went to his check and he moved menacingly toward her.

  "You little bitch."

  She was truly frightened for that second he approached her. Alone here in his apartment and no one else knew where she was. Oh God, what stupid thing had she done now? But instead of hurting her, he pulled her to him again, and this time he didn't talk, but just kissed her, forcing her mouth open with his tongue. His kisses were like nothing she had ever experienced. It was like he was making love to her mouth. She didn't want it ever to stop. She slumped in his arms; she would have fallen if he hadn't been holding her. They sank together to the floor. There was no turning back.

  It didn't last long with Andrew. They met several more times, always at his place. Then one day it was over. Andrew told her that he had found himself a girlfriend and he informed Jill that he, unlike her, was not a two-timer. Her feelings were hurt, but a part of her was relieved. Andrew wasn't a terrific lover; in fact, after the initial seduction, he reminded Jill of Barry—wham bam thank you ma'am.

  After Andrew, Jill behaved for a while, focusing on her daily routine, and on keeping Barry happy. But it wasn't long before she felt restless again. Something essential was missing in her life, but she didn't know what it was.

  Sean mowed their lawn once a week. He was older, maybe 35, with a heavy mustache and thick dark hair. Not particularly tall, he was strong and stocky. He looked like he could break Jill in half with one hand. Not my type, she told herself. She preferred tall lean men, like Barry. But something about Sean got under her skin. Maybe it was the way he looked at her when he thought she didn't notice, like she was a scoop of ice cream that he wanted to lick. She felt it should have insulted her, but instead it aroused her. She liked it. She began to dress in more skimpy outfits when he was due to mow. She would ‘forget’ her bra, or wear shorts that were cut off so high they left little to the imagination.

  One sultry afternoon Jill offered Sean some of her homemade lemonade. He was wiping the sweat off his brow as she handed him the check for his services. The dress she was wearing was a denim sleeveless outfit that zippered all the way up the front. Her braless breasts chafed slightly against the fabric.

  As he drank from the glass, Sean's eyes raked over her in that insolent way that made her hot. Her zipper was purposefully low, and the dress was cut so that it pushed her breasts together, showing off her cleavage provocatively. “It's awful hot out here, Sean. Want to come in and cool off a bit?” Before she knew it, they were in the shower together, even though she'd promised herself she wouldn't do anything stupid at home any more.

  Sean was fun. He liked to make love to her in the shower after soaping her up and getting her totally wild. Then he would kneel down and tickle her pussy with his tongue and his thick mustache until pleasure built up in her so that she thought she would explode. Barry never kissed her pussy. Then Sean would have her kneel in front of him and suck his surprisingly large cock. He would hold her head while she did it, easing his cock in and out of her mouth till he came, spurting gushes of semen down her throat. Barry occasionally asked her to suck his cock, but he never came in her mouth, always moving to her pussy when he was aroused, to do his usual bump and grind.

  Jill always made sure Sean was gone well before Barry might come home. Except for one afternoon, when Sean brought some champagne along. Over her protest (I really can't drink during the day, I go right to sleep.) he popped the cork and poured them each a glass, using her fine crystal that looked like it would break in his meaty grip. It was delicious, and Jill drank several glasses, finishing each one as fast as Sean could pour it for her.

  She knew she was drunk, but she felt wonderful. “God, you are gorgeous,” Sean said appreciatively, and he pulled her clothes off right in the kitchen before he carried her up to his favorite place, the shower. They made love for a long time, till they both had prune skin and the room was awash in billowing steam. As they were drying off Jill heard a sound downstairs. Barry! Shit, what time was it? The champagne and the great lovemaking had completely befuddled the young woman. She had let Sean stay way longer than she usually did! Still, it was early for Barry, no need to panic.

  Pulling on her silk robe, whispering to Sean to stay quiet and hide in the bathroom, she flew down the stairs, almost colliding with Barry, who was holding her dress and panties, and the empty champagne bottle in his hand. “Did I miss the party?” he said, teeth clenched, voice barely controlling his rage.

  "It's not what you think, please Barry."

  "Oh, right. You just threw off your clothes and drank a bottle of champagne by yourself."

  "Please, I can explain,” she begged, with no idea at all of how to explain. She didn't feel drunk anymore, at least not giddy and gay, as she had just a moment before. Now her head felt heavy and she couldn't think clearly.

  Barry shrugged her off as she tried to approach him, to hug him. He went up the stairs and threw open the bedroom door. No one. He went next to the bathroom, recalling that Jill was in her robe, hair wet, face pink from the steam. Pulling back the shower curtain he dropped the champagne bottle onto the bath rug and said, “Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out of my house!” Sean, naked, had been hiding in the bathtub, hoping to make his escape. Barry didn't realize he was the gardener; he was never home when his lawn was mowed.

  Barry threw his clothes at him, and Sean grabbed them, pulling them on as fast as he could. “Hey man, I'm—"

  "Spare me, motherfucker. I don't want to hear you; I don't want to see you. If you aren't out of my house in 10 seconds I'm calling the cops and having you arrested for breaking and entering."


  Sean ran out of the bathroom, pushing Barry aside. He grabbed his boots and flew out the door, slamming it as he went. Barry went into the bedroom where Jill has laying on the bed, hiding her face in the pillows.

  "Bitch!” he screamed, and grabbed her by the wrist, forcing her to turn over. “You promised! You whore! Who else have you been fucking while I work my ass off for you? Answer me, you bitch!” As he spoke, he pulled her toward him. Grabbing the sash of her robe, he pulled it off, yanking her robe open. “What do I have to do? You want to be treated like the whore you are? Like the little brat you are? Come here!” Grabbing both her wrists, Barry pulled his wife till she was over his knee, her head hanging off the edge of the bed.

  "Barry! Stop! What are you doing! I said I'm sorry. Please, let me up!"

  But he didn't let her up. Instead he put a hand on the small of her back and said, “I should have done this a long time ago, the first time you messed around. And don't tell me this is only the second time, because I won't believe you. I know now you're nothing but a whore. A cunt! And so I'm going to treat you like one! You are no longer my wife, Jill. You are my cunt, my whore. Now take what you deserve, whore!” With that he brought his hand down hard on her ass. She screamed and wriggled, trying to get away. He held her tight, bringing his hand down again across the other cheek.

  Jill was stunned, not just by his behavior, but by his words. Mild mannered Barry almost never cursed, and certainly had never called her any of those names! She realized she was afraid; he was scaring her with this new angry persona. She tried to get off of his lap, to wriggle free, to get away.

  "Keep still, bitch. I'm not going to stop until I can't do it anymore. This is what you've needed all along, isn't it? A good old fashioned spanking to keep you in line. Well, you've earned it; shit, you're begging for it! So take it!” Again he smacked her, and again, until she was crying out, yelping and struggling. But Barry was strong, and anger fueled his passion. He hit her quite hard, probably harder than he realized.