Mark found the dice in a sealed black box that arrived with no return address. Two ordinary-looking six-sided dice, heavy, matte black, edges sharp enough to cut skin. The note inside was short:
Roll once. Speak the command. She will obey until you say the release word. No memory after. Enjoy.
He almost threw them away. Then he looked at Lena across the kitchen—his wife of eight years, still beautiful, still polite, still the woman who crossed her legs when she sat and never swore in public. The woman who had slowly stopped wanting him. The woman who now went to bed early with a book and a headache.
That night he waited until she was half-asleep on the couch in one of his old shirts. He rolled the dice on the coffee table. They came up three and four.
He leaned close to her ear and spoke the first command.
“You are my slutwife. You feel nothing but the need to be used. You will obey every order I give you. You will not remember any of this when I say the word ‘reset.’ Until then you are nothing but a set of holes that exists to get filled.”
Lena’s eyes opened. The soft, tired expression vanished. Her pupils dilated. A slow, filthy smile spread across her face.
“Yes, Sir.”
Mark’s cock was already hard.
He started simple. “Strip. Now.”
She pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it. No bra, no panties. Full tits, soft stomach, thick thighs that he had always loved and she had always tried to hide. She stood there naked while he stayed fully clothed—CMNF from the first second.
“Kneel. Open your mouth.”
She dropped between his knees and parted her lips. Mark pushed his cock in to the root. Lena gagged once, then relaxed her throat like she had been trained for years. He fucked her face with short, mean strokes while she stared up at him with wet eyes and a runny nose. Spit poured down her chin and onto her tits. When he pulled out she gasped for air and immediately leaned forward for more.
“Not yet,” he said. “We’re going out.”
He made her put on a short trench coat and nothing else. The coat barely covered the tops of her thick thighs. He drove her to a nearly empty parking garage three blocks from their apartment, parked under a bright light, and ordered her out.
“Coat open. Legs spread. Rub your cunt while people walk by.”
Lena obeyed. She stood with her feet wide, coat hanging open, one hand between her legs, fingers shiny. Two men walking to their cars slowed down and stared. One whistled. Lena’s face burned with humiliation even as her fingers moved faster. Mark stayed in the driver’s seat, window down, fully clothed, watching his naked wife finger herself in public for strangers.
“Louder,” he ordered. “Tell them what you are.”
“I’m a slutwife,” Lena called out, voice shaking. “My husband is making me show my cunt. Please look at me.”
One of the men pulled out his phone. Mark didn’t stop him. Exhibitionism was only the beginning.
Back home he bent her over the kitchen table and fucked her raw. No condom. No warm-up. Just the wet sound of his cock slamming into her while her thick thighs shook and her tits dragged across the wood. He came deep and left it inside. Creampie number one. Lena reached back, scooped the overflow, and licked her fingers clean without being told.
“Good girl,” Mark said. “Tonight we make a movie.”
He set up three cameras—one on a tripod facing the couch, one on the coffee table for close-ups, one phone on a shelf for the side angle. Then he rolled the dice again. Five and two.
“You will do everything the men tell you. You will thank them for every load. You will smile for the camera. You are starring in a porn movie called Slutwife Dice. Act like it.”
He had already texted five guys from a private group chat he had joined months earlier under a fake name. They arrived within the hour. Five men, all strangers to Lena, all hard the second they saw her naked and already leaking his cum down her thighs.
CMNF stayed in force. The men stayed dressed—jeans, shirts, boots. Lena stayed completely naked. Mark sat in a chair to the side, fully clothed, phone in hand, recording extra footage.
The first man bent her over the arm of the couch and shoved in raw. No condom. He fucked her hard enough that her thick thighs slapped together with every thrust. Lena moaned like a professional, looking straight into the main camera.
“Thank you for using my married cunt,” she said clearly. “Please creampie me.”
He did. Pulled out just long enough for the camera to catch the thick white load dripping from her hole, then pushed it back in with his fingers.
Second man took her throat while the third pushed into her already-full pussy. They used her in tandem—one cock stretching her lips, one stretching her cunt—while Mark ordered her to keep eye contact with the lens. Lena’s mascara ran. Spit and precum poured down her chin. When the man in her mouth came he held her head down until she swallowed every drop, then pulled out and painted her tongue with the last ropes for the camera.
They rotated.
By the time the fourth man bent her over she was already a mess of creampies and spit. He fucked her with long, deep strokes, hands gripping the soft meat of her thighs hard enough to leave fingerprints. Lena thanked him every time he bottomed out. When he came he pulled out and aimed at her face. The fifth man joined him. Bukkake. Thick ropes across her cheeks, her lips, her open tongue, her tits. Lena stayed on her knees, smiling for the camera, letting it drip.
Mark stood up, still fully clothed, and walked into frame. He unzipped, pushed his cock into her cum-covered mouth, and fucked her face while the other five watched. When he came he held her nose closed so she had to swallow or choke. She swallowed.
“Gangbang isn’t over,” he told her. “Get on the floor. Ass up, face down. Hold your thighs open.”
Lena obeyed. Face pressed to the rug, knees wide, hands pulling her own thick thighs apart so every camera could see the messy, used hole between them. The men took turns again—raw, no mercy. One after another they slammed into her, filled her, pulled out so the next could add to the creampie. Cum ran down her thighs in thick white streams. Mark ordered her to reach back and hold herself open after every load so the cameras could get a clear shot of the overflow.
When the last man finished, Mark had her roll onto her back, legs spread, and scoop every bit of cum she could reach into her mouth. She did it slowly, looking into the main camera the entire time, swallowing with audible gulps.
“That’s a wrap for scene one,” Mark said. “But the movie needs more humiliation.”
He made her put the trench coat back on—still nothing underneath—and walked her out of the apartment building. The lobby cameras caught everything. Lena’s bare thighs flashed with every step. Cum still leaked down her legs and left faint shiny trails on the marble floor. The night doorman stared. Mark nodded at him like this was normal.
Outside, under the streetlights, he ordered her to open the coat and stand on the sidewalk while he filmed vertical video for the “trailer.” Cars slowed. A couple across the street stopped walking. Lena kept her hands at her sides, coat open, used cunt on display, face still streaked with drying bukkake.
“Tell them what just happened,” Mark ordered.
“I just got gangbanged by five men while my husband watched,” Lena said clearly. “They all came inside me. Then they came on my face. I’m full of creampie and I’m still dripping. My husband is making a porn movie of it. My name is Lena and I am a slutwife.”
A man on a bicycle almost crashed into a parked car.
Back inside, Mark was not finished.
He rolled the dice one more time. Six and six.
“You will stay like this until morning. You will not clean up. You will sleep with their cum inside you and on your skin. Every time you wake up you will finger the creampie back into your cunt and then suck your fingers clean on camera. You will thank me for turning you into this.”
Lena nodded, eyes glassy with the mind control. “Yes, Sir. Thank you for making me a slutwife.”
He fucked her one last time on the living room floor, raw, grinding deep so every previous load mixed with his. When he came he stayed buried and ordered her to clench. She did. Nothing escaped.
He left her there—naked, filthy, thighs shiny, face crusted—and went to shower. When he came back she was exactly where he left her, fingers slowly pushing leaking cum back inside herself while one of the cameras still recorded.
Mark sat in the chair, fully clothed, and watched his wife perform for the lens until her eyes finally closed.
At dawn he leaned over her and spoke the release word.
“Reset.”
Lena blinked. Confusion flickered across her face. She looked down at her naked body, the dried streaks on her tits and thighs, the sticky mess between her legs. Then the mind control wiped the memory clean. She sat up slowly, wincing at the ache, and looked at Mark with tired, ordinary eyes.
“God, I must have drunk too much last night,” she muttered. “I feel disgusting. I’m going to shower.”
Mark smiled and deleted nothing. The files were already uploading to a private cloud. The dice sat on the nightstand, waiting for the next roll.
He would use them again tomorrow.
And the day after that.
Lena would never remember the gangbangs, the public sidewalk, the bukkake, the way she had smiled for the cameras while strangers filled her. She would only notice that her husband suddenly wanted her more, that he fucked her harder, that he sometimes came home with that strange, satisfied look.
And every time the dice came out, the slutwife would return—mind gone, thighs spread, holes open, ready to be used on camera for as long as Mark wanted.
He already had the title for the next movie.
Dice 2: Public Property.
The dice waited.
Mark picked them up and rolled.
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