Stake
- 1 year ago
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At Stake free porn video
At Stake
by Excalibur J
Well hello, darling. Oh ... oh, stop right there. Now give a twirl. My,
but you look positively delicious, the way that dress hugs your curves.
Well the curves it covers at all, that is.
Oh, now you're upset. But you know something? I think the pouty face and
quivering lip just makes you look even more darling, Kiki.
Now, now, that's your name for the time being. I mean, you're cetainly
not a 'Keith' at the moment.
What's that? Why, no, I'm not here to take you home.
Why not? Well, because you belong to Marsha for another two weeks.
Yes, I said 'belong to'. I mean, well, this IS all your fault. How? In a
number of ways, as a matter of fact.
I'll tell you what I mean. Aren't you the one who's told me I-don't-
know-how-many-times over the years how a bet is like a contract and
absolutely had to be honored? That's what you said all the times I ended
up paying off stupid wagers with your friends by entering wet t-shirt
contests or serving drinks and snacks at your card games dressed in a
string bikini or ... well, a variety of other things I'm sure you'd
rather I not bring up right now. So how could I NOT honor the bet when
Marsha won?
The bet? Well, first off, you've got to realize just how desperate I
was. We were about to lose the house and I just didn't know where the
money had gone. And Marsha is more then well off. But she insisted on
making it a wager and just wouldn't loan me anything. And it seemed too
easy, a sure thing for twenty thousand dollars.
Yes, I know. I found out that there's no such thing as a 'sure thing'.
Of course, in this case, THAT was your fault, too. I mean, she bet that
it would take her no more than a week to get proof that you were fooling
around on me. Stupid me, I felt I'd have the money in just seven days.
Of course, it only made things worse that you never told me about having
a history with Marsha. One that had ended none too amicably.
If I had known that, I might have seen about wagering on something other
than your fidelity. And I might also have been more wary of her side of
the stakes. As it was, I didn't give much thought to her wanting you for
a month of 'domestic services'. I figured she was talking about odd
jobs, handyman stuff, grunt work around her house. I had no idea she was
into this sort of ... But that little maid get-up she's got you in is
absolutely delightful. That lacy little cap peeking out of your new
blond curls is so cute. And those stockings really highlight your legs.
Now, now, dear. It's much too late for apologies. And why in the world
would I accept them? That day she came by the house, after she showed me
the pictures and played me the tapes, I was devastated. I was just so
full of hurt and upset that I didn't think to find out what she
intended. When she added some powder to a drink and told me to give it
to you, I didn't even hesitate. I must confess that I remember the
thought going through my head that I hoped it was a painful and slow
poison. Of course, it wasn't. But it did knock you out so she could have
some of her friends take you away.
It was, in fact, another four or five days before I even wanted to see
you, talk to you, confront you about the whole thing. When I called
Marsha, though, she told me that I couldn't talk to you by phone. When I
told her I'd stop by, she said that was no good and she'd pick me up.
She did that, but then she started driving out of town.
She took me, of course, to the clinic. And, well, all the physical
procedures were done by then. Not that I believed it at first. I mean,
there I am expecting to see my husband when I'm brought into what
appears to be a standard hospital room occupied by a woman. Well, young
woman; barely more than a girl.
Well, no. You wouldn't remember my visit. You were still doped to the
gills. The doctor in charge of your case, I think her name was Janice,
invited me to get a good look at you. First, there was that super-cute
face they gave you. I mean, even with the permanent cosmetics you look
like pure teen jail-bait. My shock only grew as they folded back your
covers to show first those big, bouncy D-cup titties followed by that
slender waist and then... Well, once I saw your new nether equipment, I
wasn't about to believe it was you. I mean it's so completely realistic,
isn't it?
So they brought you just enough out of it so that you could answer some
questions which would assure me who you were.
It was...odd...hearing those same old recollections of your high school
and college experiences being repeated in that sweet, squeaky high voice
they gave you. It's hard to describe how shocked I was when I realized
that it truly was you. Then Marsha started questioning you.
What did she ask? Well, first she asked you to describe what had gone on
between you and her. Which you did. In detail. Then she had you confess
your other affairs, and your whoring and one-night-stand bar pickups.
I stood there seething, becoming more and more enraged. No more so than
when Marsha's questions made it clear that while your gambling had put
in in the hole, your womanizing lifestyle had made the hole a lot deeper
and started kicking the dirt in.
It took me a few minutes to get myself somewhat under control. Still, I
demanded you be fully brought around so I could have it out with you.
But they'd already adjusted your drip to put you back under.
But, when Marsha explained just what she had in mind for you, I found
her plans fantastically appropriate.
What's that? Why of course I know what's been going on.
Yes, everything. You see, Marsha's been sending me recordings. Yes,
DVD's actually. Why, I don't know exactly her set up, but I assume it's
somewhat automated with cameras just about everywhere. I only ever get
the room you're in and because the recordings of one day get to me by
noon the next, I can't imagine there's that much manual work.
Well, isn't that what I just said? Everything.
Hehe, I must admit that I've watched the recording of your first night,
at least selected portions, quite a few times. The expressions that went
across that pretty face when Marsha's friend Steven pulled you into his
lap and put his hand up between your legs, first irritated then irate,
then shocked then a bit mortified and then... Well, you squirmed and
bucked so much it looked like it was all he could do to keep you from
falling to the floor. And then, just a bit later, after he ripped your
panties off (and you could see how sopping they were even on the DVD),
after he pulled out that gorgeous rod of his, after he lifted,
repositioned, and started to lower you onto him, that look of horror at
being fucked is just too delicious. Not that it lasts more than a moment
before you start climaxing again. And then, hehe, how he just sat back
then. It didn't take you long to start working yourself up and down on
that thing, just moaning and squirming and...
What's that? Well, of course you couldn't help yourself. You're a slut
that's just the way sluts like you are. I only just came to know that
you always have been a slut who put sexual pleasure ahead of finances,
marriage, everything.
Now darling, don't beg. I'm sure you CAN last another two weeks. As a
matter of fact, two weeks won't quite be the end of it either.
Well, after coming home from the clinic I got a visit from two very
unpleasant gentlemen by the names of Carruthers and Gilman. I see you
recognize them. A matter of fifty thousand dollars, they claimed. And
they had the notes signed by you. And frankly they seemed less than
impressed by my claiming you had flown the coop.
So, I had no choice but to run to Marsha again. Even though I now needed
seventy thousand, she agreed. She explained that now I had proper
collateral. Namely you. The you now. She pointed out that there were
numerous places she could go to sell you. She named possible prices
reaching into the hundreds of thousands, though the highest prices would
probably come from commercial buyers. Y'know, brothels.
Now, now, don't worry, darling. She'll only do that if I default on the
loan. But, well, in order to remain as collateral, you have to stay like
this until she's paid back. Of course, we don't have any money for the
procedures to change you back anyway.
Well, of course she's not. I mean, she paid to get you this way and, as
she pointed out, where you were worse than worthless, thanks to her
you're now rather valuable. Even if it is as, well, a pet.
Of course, I don't make enough on my own to service our current debt.
The twenty thousand just got us caught up. But Marsha's going to put me
in touch with what she assures me is an excellent escort service.
They'll hire you right away.
Well, of course I'm talking about prostitution dear. Ultra-high-priced
call-girl services, actually. Naturally, the clients tend to demand
premium service for a premium price. But I can't think of any way for
you to make more money any quicker.
How quick? Well that depends on how well you do doesn't it? But if you
can get yourself into that thousand-a-night level and can generate
around four jobs like that per week, well... With the cut that the
service gets, all your incidentals (you'd be surprised how expensive
cosmetics and perfumes can get; not too mention all the panties, hose,
shoes, hair products, and so on), what I need to run the house and feed
us, repaying Marsha with interest at prime-plus-two percent, and then
saving up for the clinic...
What's that? Well, they tell me that as of right now, the cost would be
about a hundred and fifty. Yes, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
Of course, by the time we're set to do it, it may have gone up a bit.
So, best guess now is around three years.
Awww, there's that quivering lip again. Absolutely darling.
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Lynne
- 15.05.2021
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