Selling Brielle, Part 11

Selling Brielle, Part 11

Story by All These Roadworks (2022).

Author's Note: Writing pays my bills and keeps the lights on - so if you enjoy this story, please consider supporting its creation with the purchase of an e-book or membership from AllTheseRoadworks.com. (Click here to view the store.)

Also - my kinks aren't my politics! I support respect, equity and positive, enthusiastic consent. (Click here to read more on my content policy.)

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Jillian was so tense, so aroused, so guilty, so excited, that when she opened the door, for a moment she thought it was Brielle’s pastor standing there - that foul homophobe, come to **** her and her wife, to make them his sexual playthings, as he had implied that he some day would. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and her skin go pale.

But it was only her conscious speaking, imagining a specter of retribution that might punish her for what she was about to do.

The only person at the door was Joel, and the look in his eyes when he saw her standing there, in her slutty-but-elegant bikini outfit, her neck collared with the choker that read “PET” - *his* choker, the choker that marked her as *his* - made her melt with happiness.

In all her life as a lesbian, the idea of a man looking at her with desire had only made her feel gross and uncomfortable - but now, seeing Joel gazing at her body with such naked appreciation and lust, she felt something inside her fill up with wild, submissive joy. She had never known that she wanted this - but now she knew.

“Hello, pet,” said Joel, quietly, smiling.

“Hello, sir,” breathed Jillian in response.

“Is she…” Joel asked.

“Brielle is out like a light, sir,” confirmed Jillian. “She won’t wake until morning, no matter what happens.”

“Good girl,” said Joel, and Jillian felt herself practically glow with pleasure at the praise.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered.

Joel reached out and touched her collar. “Do you like wearing this, pet?” he asked her.

“Very much, sir,” she replied, blushing.

He looked at her, his eyes sparkling. “And do you like being my pet?” he asked, with a sly smile.

She felt her pussy pulse with sudden, urgent need.

“Yes, sir,” she replied - and it wasn’t so much a statement as a deep, breathy exhalation of need.

“You know, pets don’t usually stand upright, pet,” he said.

Instantly, without a thought, Jillian fell to her knees at Joel’s feet, gazing up at him with adoring, eager eyes.

“I like the idea of you crawling, pet,” said Joel. “Crawling whenever you’re with me, unless I tell you otherwise. Crawling even in your own home, even when I’m not here, except when Brielle is home and awake.”

Jillian pictured it - the totality of it, the submission implicit in it, the humiliation of being everywhere a pet…

“I like that too, sir,” she said, her voice thick with lust.

“Good pet,” said Joel. “Then why don’t you lead me to your wife?”

She began to crawl towards the bedroom.

At some level, she couldn’t believe what she was doing. She was a lesbian. She was married. She had dignity and self-respect. And yet there was nothing she wanted to do more than crawl for Joel. The dress barely covered her ass at the best of times, and she knew she was putting on a lewd display as she crawled. And yet she deliberately twitched her ass, to draw attention to it. She *wanted* Joel to see her - to see her cunt - to see how *wet* she was.

Was she under some spell? Had Joel, with his vast wealth, somehow procured some technology to control her brain - to turn a good, monogamous lesbian, into a cheating cock-hungry slut?

But she immediately dismissed the notion. This wasn’t that kind of story. For better or worse, these urges had been in her all along, and now she was discovering them. This was her, and this was her fault. She wasn’t the person she had always thought she was - and her true identity was still to be seen.

Apparently, though, she was the type of person who would crawl on all fours for a man, as she led that man to violate her sleeping non-consenting wife.

They reached the bedroom - and there was Brielle. Completely naked on across the marital bed she shared with Jillian. Her legs were spread, and her pretty shaved cunt was pointing right at Joel as he followed Jillian into the room.

She heard an intake of breath from Joel. Perhaps he hadn’t believed this would really happen - that he would be given access to Jillian’s gorgeous, sleeping lesbian wife. Or perhaps he was just taken aback at Brielle’s beauty.

“Does she please you, sir?” asked Jillian, already knowing the answer.

“Very much, pet,” said Joel. He walked past her, towards the bed.

Slowly, he placed his hand on Brielle’s bare stomach. He paused there, clearly nervous - but when there was no response from Brielle, he became bolder, moving his hand up, over her naked breasts. He sighed as he felt her titflesh beneath his palm. Slowly, savouring every moment, he squeezed her breast with his hand - first gently, and then harder - hard enough to hurt, Jillian thought.

When even that didn’t wake Brielle, Joel clearly finally felt satisfied that this was real, and that Brielle really was at his mercy.

“She’s so pretty,” he breathed - and Jillian felt a sudden spike of pure jealousy and hatred for her sleeping wife. She choked it down, blushing.

He rubbed his hand across Brielle’s nipples, and then pinched them - again, gently at first, and then harder, cruelly, aiming to hurt.

Brielle slept on.

He moved his hand up, caressing her throat, then her cheek. He stroked her hair - then pressed one finger against her lips. To his delight, they parted instinctively, allowing his finger into her mouth. He pressed it against her tongue, and chuckled with joy as her lips closed, and she began to instinctively suck gently at his finger.

After a moment, he withdrew the finger, then moved down, to inspect her groin. He looked at her naked cunt for long moments, and then reached forward, and used his fingers to spread her pussy lips.

“She’s not wet,” he said, with obvious disappointment in his voice.

And again, Jillian felt a sudden anger at her wife - anger because Brielle was being disappointing. Because she wasn’t pleasing Joel by being a good sex doll with a wet cunt.

She almost moaned with embarrassment at her responses. She felt jealous when Joel was attracted to her wife - but she felt angry at Brielle when she wasn’t sexually responsive to Joel’s molestation? What kind of insecure, hypocritical monster *was* she? And yet she couldn’t control what she felt.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said - apologising for her wife because her wife wasn’t more rapeable.

Joel looked at Jillian speculatively. “Do you think you could… *make* her wet?” he asked.

Jillian knew that Joel didn’t mean using lube. She blushed. But Joel had already seen her do this, on the videos that she herself had given her.

“I’ll try, sir,” she said.

She started towards the bed - but Joel reached out and placed a hand on her head, stopping her.

“Why don’t you take out my cock first?” he said.

Jillian looked up at him - and at his groin - and she couldn’t hide the eagerness she felt for the command. Her hands fumbling with excitement, she pulled at the zipper on his fly, parting the soft material of his expensive pants, and reaching within. She felt his cock immediately, straining against his cotton boxer shorts. She lifted the material of the shorts, moving it to rest entirely on one side of his cock and balls, and eased his stiff, warm phallus out into view.

It was as eager as Jillian was - thick, long, and rock hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Overcome by an immediate cheeky urge, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock, her face reddening with lust as she tasted the salty liquid oozing from it.

Joel reached down and pushed her away. “Not yet, pet,” he told her. “Brielle first, remember?”

“Yes, sir,” said Jillian. “Sorry, sir.” She turned, and crawled to the bed, climbing up on it between her wife’s legs.

She had, of course, licked Brielle’s cunt many times before - including, sometimes, when Brielle was sleeping. Brielle had explicitly said she never minded being woken up by oral sex from her wife.

Except that, of course, this wouldn’t wake Brielle up. And it was hardly the circumstances they had been envisioning - with Joel standing there, watching, his hard cock attentive to the performance Jillian was about to put on.

But, if anything, that just made it hotter for Jillian. She was more eager to lick Brielle’s cunt with a man watching her than she had been at any time in the last few months.

She leaned in, parted Brielle’s pussy lips, and buried her face in the softness within. Her nose filled with the smell of her wife’s cunt, and her tongue began to tease at Brielle’s soft pink clitoris.

Almost immediately, Brielle began to wetten.

Good girl, thought Jillian, and then blushed again at the thought.

She licked eagerly, passionately, keen to arouse her wife - and even more eager to put on a show for Joel, to make his cock harder, to make him even more **** to **** Jillian’s wife - and, maybe, Jillian herself.

Soon, Brielle began to moan softly in her sleep, and her hips began to buck, and there was a thick wet sheen of cunt-honey on Jillian’s cheeks from Brielle’s growing arousal.

“She’s ready, sir,” she said, lifting her head from her wife’s fuckhole.

“Good girl,” said Joel. And then, almost instinctively, as if it were a long-practiced gesture, he did something that removed the remaining reason from Jillian’s mind.

He snapped his fingers twice, down low, near his hip. And Jillian knew instinctively what he wanted. She jumped from the bed, and returned to his feet, kneeling, looking up at him.

Just like a pet. And that was what he had done - summoned her, as he might summon a well-trained dog, with nothing but a click of his fingers. She had obeyed without a single thought.

She was so wet. She wanted to play with herself. But she couldn’t. To just touch her pussy, in front of Joel, would be gross. Like she couldn’t control herself. There was a line, she realised, between being a “good girl” or a “good pet” - and just being a slut. Good pets controlled themselves. Good pets waited until they had permission.

Joel walked around the bed towards Brielle’s head, and Jillian followed on all fours. She watched as Joel stared down at her sleeping, naked wife. It was hard to choose what to look at - the flushed, lustful expression on Joel’s face, or his erect cock, bobbing just inches from Jillian’s face.

Joel made the choice for her. He reached down and took her hand, and then lifted it and placed it on his cock. Jillian knew what he wanted. She began to slowly, passionately pump his cock - all the while keeping it pointed directly at Brielle’s **** face.

It felt so good to have his warm, hard dick in her hand, and once again Jillian wished she could masturbate her own pussy.

“Are we doing the wrong thing, Jillian?” Joel asked.

And they both knew that they were, that there was no excuse for taking advantage of a sleeping, non-consenting women. And yet Jillian didn’t want this to stop, she didn’t want to have to let go of Joel’s cock, she didn’t want to see him disappointed. And so she reassured him that it was fine.

“I think she secretly fantasises about this,” said Jillian. “She’s such a fake lesbian. She hangs out at that homophobic church, and she worships that creepy misogynistic pastor. I bet she secretly thinks about being **** by men when we’re fucking. I bet that’s what makes her cum. She’s been eating and drinking your cum all this time now, and I know it’s not that she’s stupid. She *likes* it, even if she doesn’t admit that. She wants men’s cum inside her. She wants to taste it. And anyway, she deserves this. She’s such a closet homophobe. She deserves to be **** for hanging out with that church. I bet on some level she knows I’ve been showing you photos of her. I bet she likes that she’s cockteasing you. I bet if she knew that her nude photos were turning on, she’d have a secret smile to herself, and her cunt would get wet.”

Saying all this about her wife was so wrong - and yet it was making Jillian’s pussy throb so urgently. She looked up at Joel.

“Tell her,” she said. “Tell her she’s a bitch, and she deserves this.”

Joel moaned, breathing heavily. Then he looked down at Brielle and focused on her face.

“You deserve this, you stupid lesbian bitch,” he growled.

Jillian couldn’t help it any longer. Without stopping to think, she did what she had been fantasising about since Joel had first proposed this. She pulled on Joel’s cock, tugging him forward - and with her other hand she grabbed Brielle’s hair, and pulled her face towards Joel’s groin.

His cock met Brielle’s sleeping lips - and Brielle instinctively opened her mouth and took the cock inside her. Joel gasped with surprise and delight - and then gasped again as Brielle began to suckle at him in her sleep.

“Jillian,” breathed Joel. “I… I’m going to… if she keeps doing this…”

“It’s all right,” Jillian reassured him. “Cum in my wife’s mouth.”

And then Jillian moved back around the bed, to between Brielle’s legs, and began to lick her pussy again. It didn’t take long until Brielle was making slutty little moans of arousal in her sleep - and when Joel heard (and felt) the sleeping woman meaning with lust around a mouthful of his cock, it was too much for him. He grabbed convulsively at her hair, and his hips bucked violently, slamming his cock deep into Brielle’s mouth, and Jillian knew that he was cumming - ejaculating straight into her sleeping wife.

Jillian smiled, and gave Brielle’s clitoris one last, special flick with her tongue - her special gimmick, that Brielle loved so much, that could almost always bring Brielle to orgasm if she were sufficiently aroused. And sure enough, it worked now, and Brielle began to twitch, cumming in her sleep, even as she instinctively swallowed Joel’s cum.

Joel waited a long time afterwards, his cock still in Brielle’s mouth, not daring to move. It gave time for Jillian to crawl back to him, and use her hand to extract his dick from Brielle’s lips. She immediately put it in her own mouth, delighting at the lingering taste of sperm, mixed with her wife’s saliva. She looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes as she knelt there with his cock between her lips.

“Good girl,” said Joel, looking at her, and the words were filled with such love and approval that Jillian’s heart melted, and any remaining doubt she had about the ethics of what they had just done left her. *Anything* was justified if it made Joel speak to her that way.

And she felt love for her wife, too, because it was by being a good, slutty, sleeping rapedoll that Brielle had allowed Jillian to give Joel this pleasure.

(TO BE CONTINUED)