Exposing Amy Ch. 02


Anyone intending to read this story should read part one first. It will help to understand the characters involved. Please feel free to comment, as it is the only way to improve and develop as a writer and all comments are welcome and encouraged.


After cheating on Paul with the doctor, my husband and I had gone back to a ‘normal’ life. Although we had the memories of what we had experienced together to provide sexual stimulus, it was not long before we both realised that something was missing in our sex life.

We were not ‘normal’, we had significant flaws in our individual and collective characters. We would have dearly loved to be a normal couple who made love in the natural way and had a traditional life. Unfortunately what had stimulated us previously was no longer present and the awful realisation that without it, we would struggle to achieve any form of satisfaction both individually and together. This meant that although we desperately didn’t want to be, we were lovers who couldn’t ‘get-it-on’ without the stimulus of our fetish.

One day whilst walking in the town, I bumped into the doctor that had done my check-up and who I had allowed to fuck me. He said hello in a sneering and condescending way, like a man who thought I was beneath him and his contempt for me shone through. The arrogant look of distain and the way he looked and talked left me embarrassed and ashamed. I had not only exposed myself to him in a most intimate way but I had also let him fuck me. There in the chair, legs akimbo, I allowed him to use me like a cheap whore.

That embarrassment festered inside me all the time that we made small talk, as though nothing had happened. The smirk on his face, enough to make my face redden.

The fact that he was dismissive and contemptuous of me, resulted in me cringing with humiliation, whilst at the same time realising that the old feelings of sexual excitement were rising. This shameful excitement was due to the way he was treating me and not due to any memories of sexual activity we may have shared.

When I got home, I masturbated whilst reliving my shame in my thoughts.

I had decided to return to his clinic.

It was nothing to do with wanting sex with him, I had realised that if the first time was humiliating enough for me, then a second visit with that history behind us, would make it ten times more humiliating to expose myself to him again.

I made the appointment and turned up at the stated time. I had used another name because on the first occasions I tried to book myself in, the appointment was refused. He had refused to see me again which made me feel even more cheap and worthless.

When I entered, the look he gave me was one of shock, his nurse was there and he hurriedly took her out of the room.

A few minutes passed and they both returned, it was then he introduced me to the nurse – his wife! He had told her the full story after the first time I had visited and had now obviously had just identified me as the woman in question.

They both stood and looked at me like I was a piece of shit.

I don’t know what conversation passed between them, but they had obviously decided to go ahead with the charade.

“Would you please undress for me Mrs Clark,” (he adhered to my new alias to humour me.)

I moved to go behind screen and he said quite harshly,

“No do it here, get your clothes off where you are, no need for the screen.”

I wanted to run, I wanted to avoid the humiliation that was inevitable from here on in, yet I knew that I wouldn’t, my pathetic need controlled me and I craved the shame.

The harshness of the cruel command shocked me into action.

They both watched me undress, my hands were shaking like leaves and my heart pounded in my chest as I removed my bra, my breasts falling forward for all to see. As I pulled down my tiny panties (bought especially for the occasion) my vagina came into view.

My face was beetroot red with embarrassment and I wanted to run. Why the hell was I doing this to myself?

I knew the answer. I needed to be humiliated.

And I was.

Naked I stood before the doctor and his wife.

We went trough the charade of him asking me what the trouble was and I vaguely remember jabbering some nonsense about a pain inside me, in a ridiculously weak justification for my visit.

The doctor moved in on me and manhandled me quite roughly. He examined my breasts and my vagina whilst I laid flat on a bed, carelessly and harshly grabbing me and fingering me in a terrible caricature of a medical procedure.

All the time the nurse/wife looked at me sneeringly, what a little tramp, whore, slut, and pathetic slag I was.

Worse was to come. I was put in the stirrups and my legs and my vagina were spread wide.

I wanted to die, the humiliation was crushing, not just because I was exposed to these two people, but because they KNEW.

They knew who and what I was, they knew somehow that I was degrading myself and demeaning ankara yabancı escort myself to them deliberately. They knew that I was doing it in such a manner, that I was getting myself off on it.

Before inserting the speculum inside me, they stood side by side a few feet away staring between my open legs.

I wanted crawl away and hide.

Many women become wet when having a gynaecological exam and the doctor usually spares their blushes by acting as though he has not noticed. They usually still use gel to save her embarrassment. Today the doctor said to his wife,

“I think we will need plenty gel on the speculum nurse, this ‘lady’ is quite dry down there.”

The scorn and sarcasm obvious, I was sodden and they knew it.

“I think we will need the extra large speculum this time nurse, this vagina looks well used and stretched out,” he sneered, the inference of my virtue, or lack of it, was brutal.

If only they knew that I wasn’t a slut, I just needed a fix.

This was all so terribly traumatic for me, yet the ultimate embarrassment was just around the corner.

Here I was with,

A doctor who knew I was somehow getting my kicks out of the situation. A doctor who had fucked me then discarded me. His sneering wife looking down at me and my intimate parts. Both knowing what I was and despising me for it,

Who were treating me like shit whilst verbally abusing me and physically and roughly mauling me and inserting things into my vagina.

I came as he touched my pussy lips.

I could not hide it, they watched as I tried my utmost to hold in the gasps of pleasure and the moans of delight. My hips rose to meet his fingers of their own accord and the lips of my vagina began to spasm around his probing fingers. Each ignominious act simply turned me on even more. This self perpetuating excitement built, as the more ashamed I was, the more turned on I became and the more turned on I became, the more ashamed I was.

He continued to look into my wide spread pussy and kept touching me as part of the examination. I don’t think he was touching me in certain spots deliberately, they were genuine parts of an examination, however the whole situation, the intensity of the shame and humiliation of the situation made me cum a second time in quick succession.

I wondered later if I would have let him fuck me, but I will never know. He didn’t want his cock inside such a shameless and wretched pussy as mine and the presence of his wife would have stopped him anyway.

I wondered,

“If there had just been him present, would I have let him (or begged him to) fuck me?”

“If he had attempted to put his cock inside me with her there, what would I have done?”

“Would I have liked the indignity of his wife watching him fuck this shameless slut?”

I don’t know, but I suspect that I just might have done.

There was no further pretence of an examination. I hurriedly pulled on my tiny thong, not pausing to put on my bra, I slipped my dress over my head. I left the room and as I exited the outer door I heard the laughter.

I went home and Paul was waiting for me. To cut a long story short he wanted sex and hell so did I. I wanted it so much I forgot to erase the evidence from between my legs and when Paul pushed me onto the bed and lowered his mouth to my pussy all hell broke loose.

Paul takes up the story

I couldn’t believe it, the dirty, cheating, fucking whore, had been back to the clinic without telling me!

For a few moments I was furious about her deceit and cheating.

“How could she do this to me again?”

I reacted angrily and jealously. I felt like she had betrayed me and for a fleeting moment I hated her.

However the old feelings slowly began to return. The old hatred and resentment about another man seeing and touching my wife intimately gnawed away at me inside, churning my stomach and giving me ‘butterflies’. As the old feelings grew, I found myself with a raging hard on due to the sheer humiliation of my position.

We didn’t waste a moment, I dragged her to the bedroom, threw her on the bed and fucked her like the whore she was.

We grabbed for each other and kissed feverishly, my hands grabbing her tits on the outside of her blouse and kneading them deliberately harshly to hurt her. Amy groaned with pleasure. Luckily Amy wasn’t wearing anything very expensive, as I simply ripped her blouse into tiny pieces baring her braless tits. I pulled her nipples roughly and twisted and pinched enough to draw tortured gasps from her.

“On the bed bitch,” I ordered and pushed her backwards.

Her tiny panties stood no chance, they simply disintegrated in my fists leaving her slut pussy bared and available to me. There was no foreplay, there was no need to get each other aroused, we were both frantic.

I slid my cock into her sodden cunt which was slick with her pussy juice and medical gel, and pushed myself into her in one easy lunge.

The bahçelievler escort only sounds in the room were the grunts from each of us as my body pounded into hers. The sound of slapping skin as we collided and the squelching sound of a dripping wet pussy as it was hammered by a hard cock.

As I fucked her the dialogue became more and more dirty. From me (interspersed with the grunts and moans) came,

“Whore, slut, slag, dirty fucking cheating bitch” etc.

Amy countered my abuse with the words designed to both humiliate and excite us both,

” Doctor, abused me, his wife, my legs open, shoved it in my pussy and treated me like a whore,” etc.

“And I came like a slut on his fingers,”

That did the trick, we both came like express trains riding along on a wave of worthlessness and debasement.

For several days after the event, I was both angered and excited at the same time and in equal measure.

I wanted revenge.

Amy takes up the story

After my visit to the clinic our sex life became more frenetic again. We both knew that each other used the incident to turn us on time and time again. We discussed what had happened and we both admitted that we had missed the stimulus of being embarrassed, which in turn gave us the feeling of being used, abused and humiliated that our twisted minds needed.

We went out for dinner one night and Paul made a big issue out of dressing me, he wanted me dressed exactly in a certain way. On our way back home after a lovely dinner, Paul said we need cash and the only ATM he knew of around these parts were just a minute or so away. We eventually pulled up at the kerb by the cash point which was in a very lonely desolate remote part of town.

He made me get out whilst he waited in the car and as I was getting cash I heard the car pull away.

“The bastard has left me here! What the hell was he thinking about?”

After waiting for ages for him to return (The stupid joke over) I realised he wasn’t coming back, so I considered my options. I realised that I couldn’t stand there all night like a dummy so I started to walk. That’s when the alarm bells started to ring. In the still of the night my heels clicked on the pavement and I was suddenly very conscious and aware of my short dress and my stockings.

As I walked along, the full realisation of the danger I could be in began to prey on my mind.

I was not wrong.

As I passed the end of a passageway a man stepped out in front of me, he looked like a homeless guy all dirty and dishevelled. I turned to run and found another behind me.

“Stay where you are you little bitch, we only want to be friendly, the man in front of me hissed, You wouldn’t like to be all unfriendly now would you.” He growled menacingly.

As they dragged me into an alley, the long standing and lifelong pathological fear of being raped came flooding out.

“Oh my God, the greatest fear I have is about to happen, oh please God don’t let them rape me,” I begged.

I realised at that point that my lousy bastard of a husband had set me up for this. I remembered the conversations as we talked about our fetish and how I had confessed my worst fear.

“The bastard wants to get off on the degradation and debasement of me being raped.” I realised.

I was dragged into an alley desperately trying to fight them off. They were simply too strong for me. They pushed me onto my back on top of some boxes and held me by the throat.

“Listen you little whore, if you submit you might live but if you continue to fight I am going to get very angry and I just might stab you ok?” he snarled.

I couldn’t believe this was happening to me and that my husband had left me here in so much danger. I went quiet, all the time thinking how to escape from this nightmare, a move they took as submission.

I was told to stand so they could look at me and I was dragged up by my arm.

“Lift the skirt bitch.”

I took hold of the hem of my skirt and eased it upwards, my black stockings coming into view, the clasp of my garter belt tugging the stockings upwards provocatively and my legs shaped by the high heels.

“Jesus H Christ, that is a fucking sight Jack, said man number one. Now down from the top,” he said gesturing at my breasts.

I eased down my dress to reveal my braless breasts which instantly hardened and wrinkled in the cold night air, the nipples growing as they watched.

“Now sweetie, you are now going to pull down them little panties you’ve got on and me and Bob are going to get ourselves a good look at that little pussy you got hidden in there ok?” said Jack.

I pulled down my thong until it was around my knees and clenched my eyes shut, I did not want to watch them watching me and staring at my smooth and totally hairless pussy.

“She’s shaved as bald as a badger Bob, laughed Jack, just as you like em mate, he continued.

“Now you just lay back while me and my old mate Bob here balgat escort have us some fun and nobody will get hurt ok?” Jack said.

In a daze I moved back to the stack of boxes and stopped before lying on top of them. I let my panties fall to the ground and stepped out of them. I lay on the boxes and closed my eyes.

As Jack moved between my legs he said,

“I hope she ain’t a dry one Bob, we ain’t got time to get her worked up.”

He put his hand on my vagina and gasped.

My vagina was as wet as I have ever known it. To any passer-by I would have just looked like a slut excited and eager to be fucked. My wetness was absolutely nothing to do with sexual excitement, but came exclusively through the fear, terror and the distressing humiliation I was feeling, as two old, dirty, smelly and disgusting homeless guys prepared to rape me.

As I lay on my back with my head a little elevated on a small roll of material, I could see down my body. My breasts were cold and the night air had drawn my nipples out to an incredible length. They were so hard that they were a little painful. I looked between the V of my legs and watched as a dirty old man moved between them. Holding a large angry and menacing looking muscle in his fist, he slapped the inside of each of my thighs to make me open myself wider for him and to make sure that I wasn’t trying to close them.

I felt the pressure of the blunt purple distended helmet of his cock on my little pink lips (my outer lips already flowered open fully, baring my wet hole to him)

Holding himself in his fist he positioned his rod at my entrance and leered at me.

Although Jack had a large uncircumcised cock which would normally have stretched me a little, he slid easily into me, meeting no resistance from my swollen, hot and gaping pussy.

It was loathsome and degrading to feel his big length slide into my intimate depths. I felt every inch of him inside me and he eventually ‘bottomed out’, I was completely impaled on his cock.

As he fucked me I swear I could even feel my small labia stretching along his huge hard rod as he pulled out of me, only to feel his cock trying to push them up inside me as he thrust into me.

“Don’t cum in the slut’s cunt Jack, I don’t want sloppy seconds,” pleaded Bob.

As he enjoyed his cock being inside a hot, wet and tight pussy for the first time in years Jack taunted me. He told me what a,

“Dirty little slut,” I was and described aloud what he was doing.

“My hard cock is being squeezed by that slutty little cunt of yours, you are hot and wet, you must be loving this you dirty little whore.”

(If only he knew what his words were actually doing to me.)

Jack was nearer to cumming than I realised, he suddenly pulled out of me and moved alongside me, his slick and glistening cock pushing towards my face.

I opened my mouth and let him slide between my lips.

No sooner than he was in my mouth, I felt Bob ease into my gaping hole.

“Fuck, this bitch is WET,” exclaimed Bob as he started to fuck me.

After a few warning grunts from Jack, he came in my mouth.

All the pent up cum from his large balls shot jet after jet of scalding semen into my mouth which instantly ran to the back of my throat. He had a strange and musty taste and his cum had an incredible thickness to it for an older man.

No sooner had he cum in my mouth, than Bob suddenly stiffened and thrust into me. He pushed into me to the hilt at which time I completed my disgrace.

I came.

Panting and shaking I saw no point in trying to hide my shame. As my vagina throbbed and contracted around the old man’s cock, the rush through my pussy was unstoppable and intense. As I shamed myself with the orgasm Bob thrust once more, held his position and filled my vagina with a huge amount of his cum.

As I lay panting something suddenly hit me, it was the realisation that I had made two seemingly innocuous movements in the last few minutes. What made me think of them I don’t know, but when I did. I was mortified to realise that I had stepped out of my own panties without being told to and that I had opened my mouth to Jack’s cock without any order to do so by him.

These supposedly innocuous actions had unbelievable significance and influence over what happened next.

As Bob slowly eased down in the aftermath of his orgasm, he just worked his softening cock inside me to drain himself completely and to savour the final moments of being inside me.

I came again.

This orgasm was based solely on the situation. The vision in my minds eye of unconsciously stepping out of my panties and of opening my mouth to him shook me, my embarrassment, degradation and humiliation were simply enough to make me orgasm.

In an unconscious effort to heap shame upon shame, without thinking about it, I let them both kiss me.

Paul continues

As I sat in the car (which I had driven back and now sat parked at the kerb opposite the alleyway) I was shaking. When I say shaking I mean literally shaking, not like some people say to explain that they were nervous or something. I was holding the wheel my hands quivering, my body was shaking uncontrollably, my heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I had a very real fear that I could suffer some form of seizure.

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