****** The Reluctant Cum-Boy by Tanya Sissipus ******
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The Reluctant Cum-Boy


Part 1 - Caught

"Okay, I'll see ya later, Ken!" Her keys jangling loudly in the silent kitchen,
my wife called to me from across the house. "After bingo, Genny and I are gonna
stop for a drink, so don't wait up!"

Forcing myself to sound sincere, I cried back "Have fun!" As I heard the door
bang shut behind her, I cursed myself for wasting yet another chance to let her
know how I really felt. I'd never been comfortable with the fact that Genny and
my ex-wife were so close, but stayed silent for her sake. At first, I'd been
afraid my ex-wife might be poisoning her against me - after all, our break-up
was NOT amicable - but they really did seem to be close friends. What the angry
ice-queen and the perky love of my life had in common, I had no idea, but . . .

"Forget about it," I told myself with a sigh. "The house is yours for the night
- and you know what that means." Grinning, I made a slow, leisurely circuit of
the main floor, locking the doors and drawing the blinds. As eager as I was to
get started, Genny could be kinda scatter-brained at times, and I didn't want
her coming back for something and stumbling across my dirty little secret.

I'd been careless once before, and it had cost me my marriage.

Still counting the minutes inside my head, I strolled casually down the hall to
the bathroom. Genny had a bad habit of leaving her dirty clothes behind the
door, trusting in me to pick them up and drop in the wash. I liked to tease her
about it - according to the stereotype, SHE should have been picking up MY mess
- but I never complained. Doing the laundry was my little contribution to the
household, excusing me from doing the dishes or vacuuming.

Besides, I enjoyed it. Unfortunately, if she ever found out why, I'd have two
ex- wives on my hands.

"Damn." Nothing on the door, and nothing on the floor. The first night in weeks
that she had left me alone, and she picks NOW to start cleaning up after
herself. "Oh well," I told myself, "That's only strike one." Turning off the
light, I returned to the hall and sauntered into the laundry room to check the
hamper. I felt a momentary thrill upon seeing the pile of clothes in the
bottom, but it quickly faded. "That's strike two, Ken." She'd left me a pair of
ankle-socks, an orange t-shirt, and a pair of blue-jean shorts - the first two
did nothing for me, and I already knew the shorts wouldn't fit.

That left only the bedroom, where her closets and drawers would have to suffice
if our hamper proved empty too. By now, experience told me she wouldn't return,
but I still took my time climbing the twenty-two stairs to potential-paradise.
First, I checked behind the door, finding the nightie she'd been wearing
earlier that day when I let her beat me to the bathroom, hoping she would leave
it as a memento.

She hadn't.

"Not bad," I shrugged, "But I was kinda hoping for more. Let's call that one a
foul- tip." Tossing the purple satin treasure onto the bed, I moved over to the
clothes hamper we kept next to the closet. It was nearly half-full, and since
I'd already washed MY stuff for the day, there was hope for a bit of fun yet. I
held my breath in anticipation and slowly opened it. "Yes! Home run!"

Inside I found a navy-blue blouse, her favourite black leather miniskirt, two
pairs of pantyhose, a sweat-dampened bra, and my favourite pair of panties.
Bringing the silky pink treasures to me nose, I inhaled the delicious, musky
scent of my darling wife. Mmmm, her panties were just like a fine wine - they
only got better with age.

Smiling, I tore off my shorts and tossed them into the hamper. Then, naked as
the day I was born, I began. Starting with the pantyhose, I took my time
sliding them up my legs. They felt wonderful, but I'd always wondered what they
would feel like against smooth, shaved skin. Unfortunately, if I wanted to keep
sleeping next to Genny, shaving my legs would have to remain a risk I dared not
take.

Next, I grabbed her grey sports-bra and took a moment to let the heady smell of
her sweat bless my nose before slipping it on. Then, hitting upon an idea, I
scrounged in the hamper for a pair of socks to roll up and pad the bra with.
That done, I pulling on the navy-blue blouse, leaving the top few buttons
undone so as to expose my artificial cleavage. By now, I was incredibly
aroused, so I grabbed the panties and again inhaled their musky scent. As if
there were a magic connection between my nose and my crotch, my cock seemed to
swell larger still. After first taking a moment to suck on the delicious crotch
- which somehow tasted better that her fresh cunt - I slipped on the panties
and shuddered with pleasure as they tried futilely to imprison my throbbing
manhood.

Lastly, I pulled on the tight leather miniskirt, putting the final touch on my
work of fetish-art. Standing before the mirror, I spread my legs and began
caressing my cock through the layers of feminine fashion. Why it aroused me, I
have no idea - I had no desire to be a woman, wasn't gay, wasn't even bi-
curious - but I know what I like! Lost in a fantasy world, I closed my eyes and
collapsed on our bed where I continued playing with myself.

Suddenly, rudely intruding upon my fantasy, I heard "Once a pervert, always a
pervert, eh?"

Stunned, I jerked my hand away from my cock but it was too late. As I looked up
to see my ex-wife smirking above me, I felt my hot cum filling Genny's panties.
Completely at a loss for words, I simply laid there, looking the fool.

And not for the first time.

"Pathetic." Clearly disgusted - just like the night that had ended our marriage
- the blonde bitch walked past me to grab a bottle of nail-polish from the bed-
side table. "Your pretty little bimbo was supposed to bring this for me to
borrow, but she forgot." As she slipped the bottle into her purse, she laughed.
"Big surprise, eh?"

A million thoughts racing around inside my head - none of them pleasant - I
guiltily grabbed a sheet to cover myself. "Get out," I barked. Then,
remembering that Genny might be waiting downstairs, I lowered my voice. "This
is none of your business. Not anymore."

Suddenly, an angry scowl replaced her smirk. "I don't know why I offered to
come up and grab this. Genny REALLY should see you like this sometime." Leaving
that enigmatic half-threat to hover in the air between us, she spun on her heel
and marched back down the stairs.

A few muffled words and a deep, hearty laugh later, the two most important
women in my life were gone. As I heard the door click shut behind them, I
wondered if it would be forever.

My night ruined, I stripped out of Genny's things and back into my own. Then,
after destroying the evidence with a load of laundry, I vowed to myself I would
never again indulge my cross-dressing fantasies. There'd been no point in such
a vow before - for a long time after Andrea left me, fantasy had been my ONLY
pleasure - but now there was. Finding Genny was the best thing that had ever
happened to me, and I was terrified of losing her too. Plagued by my worries
and some lingering embarrassment, I plopped myself down on the couch to watch
some TV.

Ironically, I was just in time to catch the bottom of the ninth - with my team
down five runs against the top pitcher in the league.

I knew just how they felt.

Luckily, that unforgettable scene occurred on a Thursday night. Lucky, because
Genny and I ALWAYS spend the weekend together - meaning Andrea would have no
chance to let my secret slip. All I had to do was find a way to break the news
gently, promise to never do it again, and hope a couple days of romance would
make things right.

I came home from work Friday night to an empty house. On the table was a short
note from my wife, signed with the same happy-face heart she used on all her
love- notes. There were only a few lines, but they were enough to drive a stake
of dread right through MY heart.

Honey,



Andrea's going through some tough times and asked me to

help her straighten a few things out. We'll be gone all

weekend - sorry for the short notice, but I'll make it up

to you, I promise (XXOO).



Oh, by the way, she might need a place to stay for a few

days, so I offered to put her up in the den. Hope you don't

mind, but I just couldn't say no to those tears - I'll make

that up to you too, I promise (XXOO).



Love ya,

Genny


Dropping the note on the floor, I walked slowly to the fridge and counted the
bottles of beer inside. Seven - not nearly enough to get me as drunk as I
needed to be. Easing it gently shut, I walked out to the car, backed slowly
down the driveway - and burned rubber across town as I screamed and yelled and
pounded the shit out of the dash.

It was a miracle I made it back in one piece.

"Ohhhh . . . shiiiiitttttt . . ." Moaning, I forced myself to wake up, to fight
my way through the cloud of fog enveloping my brain. "Killer headache . . .
every inch of my body aches . . . my arms are asleep . . ." Cracking one eye
open, I blinked away the grit of a long night's sleep and cursed. "Whoever
invented Monday's deserves to be taken out into the street and -"

Blinking again, I asked myself "Why is it so dark in here?" Still and a little
disoriented - not to mention, hungover - I tried to rub my eyes. "Huh?" Not
only were my arms asleep, they were bound somewhere above my head!

"What the fuck?" Looking up, I still couldn't see a thing, but my struggles
made me aware of the cold steel encircling my wrists. Realizing I was a
captive, I tried not to panic and checked on the rest of me. Physically, I
seemed okay - there were no cuts, bruises, or broken bones that I could feel -
but I was completely immobilized. Except for my head, I couldn't have moved an
inch if my life depended on it.

And, I suddenly realized, it just MIGHT!

That was when the panic began to set in.

"HELP!" Screaming at the top of my lungs, I cried "HELP! LET ME OUT!" Thrashing
uselessly against my chains, I howled "SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!"

I kept on like that for what must have been a good hour - although I had no way
to keep track of the time - stopping only when my voice gave out. Then,
mentally hovering somewhere between anger and terror, I'd had no choice but to
wait. If I timed it right, my captor's introduction might give me enough time
to scream through the open door - or window or whatever - and hope somebody
heard.

As it turned out, I would be waiting a long time. I think I fell asleep a
couple of times - I don't really remember - but I do know it had to be six or
seven hours before my isolation was ended.

Given what was to come next, I think I probably would have been just as happy
had I been left to die, alone and unmolested.

Hearing a series of faint clicks - like the tumblers turning in a lock - I
snapped awake and watched as the darkness before me was pierced by a vertical
sliver of light. As it slowly expanded into an open doorway, I took a deep
breath and prepared to scream. Just then, somebody turned on the lights.
Painfully blinded, I strained through watery eyes to make out the face of my
captor.

It was a she - with a nice body, from what I could see - tall, red-haired, and
- Yes! Realizing who it was, I almost cried with joy. "Genny! Genny! Oh, thank
god it's you." Relieved, I told her "You've got to get me out of here before
whoever comes back." When she made no move towards me, I cried "Please! It's
me!" Still, she stayed where she was, a silhouette in the doorway. "For fuck's
sake - it's Ken! Your husband!"

She just laughed. Laughed and turned to close the door behind her. Then,
leaning back against it, she said, "Let you go? Oh no, Andrea wouldn't like
that at all."

"What?" I asked. "Did she put you up to this?" Angry, I demanded "Is she
responsible for this bullshit?"

Genny just shook her head. "You really must learn to take responsibility for
your actions. That's what this is all about - admitting your guilt and paying
the price."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, certain now that my bitch of an ex-wife
HAD revealed all the dirty details of my cross-dressing fetish. She would pay,
that much was certain, but first I had to find a way out of this dungeon.

Easier said than done.

Pulling something from her pocket, Genny crossed the narrow space between us
and held out a pair of pink panties for my inspection. "Recognize these?" she
asked as she dangled them before my face.

I decided to play dumb and hope for the best. "No - should I?"

Giggling, she chastised me "Let's not play games, now Kenneth. I know all about
you."

Desperate, I made one last attempt to deny the obvious. No matter what Andrea
had said, I had to believe my wife would take my word over hers. "I still have
no idea what you're talking about."

With a sigh, Genny turned the lights out again. As I listened intently, having
no idea what to expect, I heard what sounded like paper rustling and tape
peeling. Then, when the lights came back on, I saw that she had taped a poster
to the back of the door.

"What's that?" I asked, my eyes adjusting to the darkness once again.

Still giggling, she told me "Look closer, silly."

Straining against my chains, I craned my neck forward to inspect the picture. A
sinking feeling in my stomach, I whispered "Oh fuck . . ." I recognized it,
alright - it was a picture of me, dressed in Andrea's wedding dress, jacking
off while sucking on a pair of her dirty panties.

The exact same photo her lawyer had used to force my hand in the alimony suit.

The exact same photo he claimed to have destroyed, along with the negative,
while the judge and I looked on.

The exact same photo the bitch was now using to turn my wife against me.

Seeing my jaw drop, Genny sauntered over and began tracing her finger up and
down my naked chest. "Andrea says that's her very favourite picture of you,"
she cooed. "Do you like it?"

I refused to believe what was happening to me. It simply couldn't be real.
Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to believe it was just a bizarre nightmare,
I knew that wasn't true. "H-her favourite?"

Genny nodded, a look of mock-seriousness on her face. "She has a half dozen
copies just like this - locked safely away, of course - chronicling your little
adventures. You see, I began to suspect you of trying on my clothes about a
year or so ago, so I asked her about it." Nodding, she said "Yes, that's when
we became such good friends."

Suddenly it all made sense. "You bitch!" I growled. "You forgot that bottle of
nailpolish on purpose!"

"You're being silly again," she chastised lightly. "I really DID forget it,
honey. As far as catching you in the act goes . . . well, that was just a
little bonus."

"So," I asked, "Whose idea was all this?"

"Well, it was HER idea to punish you." Grinning, she added "I'm just here to
help."

Completely at a loss for words, I let my head drop in shame. "I'm so sorry," I
told her - as if it would make any difference. "I was going to tell you, but
just couldn't find the words." Hearing the door open again, I looked up and
made the mistake of letting myself entertain hopes of freedom.

No such luck.

As I watched, helpless, she dragged in an old, heavy-duty suitcase and let it
fall in the corner. Then, pulling the door shut, she unzipped the suitcase and
began to unload it. Calmly and with an orderly precision, she withdrew various
pieces of lingerie, jewelry, make-up, female deodorant, perfume, and a box of
tampons.

"This is all for you, my pretty," she gleefully informed me.

This had gone WAY too far. If it was their intent to scare me away from my
cross- dressing fetish, they had succeeded. "Okay, I give up. I'm sorry for
what I've done, Genny, and I can assure you I'll never do it again." Shit, was
that the truth!

My wife just shrugged. "The damage has already been done." Taking the pink
panties from her pocket, she asked "Are you sure you still don't recognize
these? I DO believe they're your favourite."

Out of options, I had to hope honesty would pay off. So, I admitted it.

"Oh, I know," she giggled, "They're my favourites too. Unfortunately, now
they're stained." Holding them an inch from my face, she said "See, there's
dried semen on the front." Smiling, she told me "I can still smell your cum on
them."

My eyes were wide with fear. "Th-this has gone far enough," I stammered.
"You've had your fun, but it's time to let me out!" When she made no move to
comply, I demanded "You tell that fucking bitch to let me go!"

Suddenly, without warning, she shoved the panties into my mouth. Really
stuffing them in there, she forced my jaw shut and smiled. I knew I had to get
them out, but was loathe to use my tongue on them. I'd need it to push them
free, but couldn't stand the thought of accidentally tasting my own cum. That
moment of indecision was my undoing.

Before I could make up my mind to free myself of the gag, Genny slapped a strip
of duct-tape over my lips, effectively sealing them shut. Next, whistling to
herself, she pulled a safety pin out of her jeans and began to heat it with a
gold cigarette lighter - a present I'd given my ex-wife to commemorate her
first smoke-free anniversary. As I braced myself for the pain, I was relieved
to feel only a sharp prick in each earlobe as she pierced my ears.

Transferring a pair of large, red, hoop earrings from her own ears to mine,
Genny told me "I'm starting with your ears, so you'll have some idea of how far
we're going to take you." Admiring my newly-pierced ears, she nodded. "And we
plan to take you plenty far, indeed."

My transformation begun, she withdrew a hypodermic needle from the suitcase and
jabbed it in my arm. Then, swabbing the tiny wound with a damp cotton swab, she
told me "Andrea says this worked like a charm last night."

Terrified, I tried to will myself to stay awake, but it was a battle I could
not win.

Within moments, I felt myself surrender to the black void of unconsciousness.

I didn't even hear her leave.

Sometime later - the next day, maybe - I awoke to find myself still trapped in
the darkness. As humiliating as my wife's visit had been, at least it had
allowed me to figure out where I was. Concrete floor approximately 4 feet long
and 4 feet wide, brick walls almost 7 feet high, cold and dark - it was the
unused root cellar in our basement. On the one hand, it was a comfort knowing I
was in familiar surroundings but, on the other hand, it also meant I couldn't
count on any helpful strangers discovering me.

An hour or so later - I think, there's really no way to tell - the door creaked
open again to admit my wife. "Good morning, sleepy-head." Smiling, she ripped
the duct-tape from my face and retrieved her panties. "Did my little Kenny
sleep well?"

My mouth was so dry, it was hard to talk. "F-fuck you," was all I could rasp.

"Now, now," she chastised me, "That's no way for a lady to talk."

"N-n-n-not . . . a lady."

"No?" Laughing, she turned off the light. Blind again, all I could hear was
what sounded like tape peeling, paper crumpling, and then . . . rough
hammering?

Finally, the lights came back on, revealing what I thought was another picture
of me. I didn't recognize the outfit, but - oh shit. It wasn't a poster! It was
a full-length mirror! As much as I'd enjoyed my cross-dressing adventures, I
had never for a moment wanted to look like this. Taking advantage of my
unconsciousness, Genny had done an amateurish job of slapping on makeup - two
days' growth of facial making me look like some pathetic drag-queen whore.
She'd also done my hair, colouring the black with blonde highlights, and
setting it all in a gawd-awful perm. My fingers now ended in pink acrylic nail
extensions, absurdly long and already beginning curl under at the end. Finally,
she'd dressed me entirely in red lace, with a matching bra-panty-garter-
stocking set and two-inch pumps.

"We can stuff your bra," she told me, "But your waist does kind of give you
away." Suddenly, she grinned. "Before long, honey, that won't be a worry."

"What do you mean?" Dammit, I had never wanted to take my fantasies this far!
Despite my brave front - or, what I HOPED was a brave front - I was really
scared.

Genny just smiled and knelt down beside me. I couldn't see what she was doing,
but I felt her pull aside the crotch of my panties as she commented "I think
it's time for a change, dear."

Just as I was about to ask what she meant, I gasped in pain as I felt her tug
something from inside my ass. There had too much going on for me to notice it
before, but I certainly felt it coming out.

Waving the shitty tampon in front of my face, she laughed. "You're a lucky girl
- you have a very light flow!" Then, pulling another from the pocket of her
blouse, she told me how lucky I was that she had splurged for the plastic
applicator. "I love my hubby, and I want your period to be as comfortable as
possible."

"Genny, please," I begged, "Don't do this." It was only a small tube of
slippery plastic, but just the though of having it inside me made me cringe.
"Please, Genny, I'll do anything."

"Silly," she replied, "You'll do anything whether I stuff this up your sissy
twat or not." Then, still smiling, she put the applicator in her mouth, licking
and sucking it like it was some kind of tiny cock. Under different
circumstances it might have been sexy, but my only though at the time was
gratitude for the lubrication.

Gawd, it was all so humiliating.

"Arrggghhh!" Feeling her shove the tampon roughly up my ass, I twisted futilely
in my chains. It felt like I was on fire down there, and I suddenly had to take
a shit so bad, there were tears in my eyes.

Standing, she silently rearranged my chains so that I was sitting on the floor
with my legs spread wide and my arms above my head. "Mmmm," she cooed, "You're
such a pretty girl, yes you are!" Licking her lips, she sighed. "You look so
feminine - so damn submissive - I just can't help myself!" As she yanked up her
skirt - the same black leather number Andrea had caught me in - she asked "Are
you horny, honey?"

"How the hell can you ask if I'm horny after what you've done?"

"Too bad," she pouted, "Because I AM horny." Smiling, she ripped off her
blouse, revealing the incredible breasts trapped beneath. Genny was easily a
44DD - one of the first things that had attracted me to her - and she liked to
show off her assets. Undoing some kind of weird snap, she lowered away the cup
on the left side to expose the stiff, pink nipple beneath. I hated myself for
it - and felt a little guilty - but the sight of her naked breast was turning
me on.

"Remember that woman who called about the breastfeeding seminar?" she asked me.
Softly, sensuously, she began massaging her naked tit. "Remember that poor
woman who embarrassed you so by dialing the wrong number?"

"What?" Distracted, I said "Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, it WASN'T a wrong number, Kenny." Winking my way, she explained. "Andrea
and I went to see her, said we were looking to adopt a baby and wanted to
breastfeed it ourselves." Her fingers working faster now, she moaned. "They
have so many wonderful ways to help induce lactation nowadays."

"Christ, that was three years ago," I replied.

Genny just smiled. Kneeling before me, she leaned forward and squirted a quick
jet of titmilk onto my face. Stunned, I barely heard her say "It did take a
while, but Andrea and I have been taking very good care of our precious
boobies." Painting my face with her warm, creamy white spurts, she admitted
"When I'm really horny, I can actually nurse myself."

"Ohhhhhh." Unable to get that mental picture out of my head, I felt my cock
stiffening beneath my lacy red panties. "Why?" I asked, desperate for some way
to take my mind off what was happening. She may have been my wife - and part of
me might have still loved her - but I didn't want to start enjoying this.

If I did, well . . . who knows where it might lead?

"Mmmm, two reason, really." Lowering the second nursing flap, she began
drenching me with twin streams of her milk. "First, it's just so sexy, I can't
stop." Giggling, she began alternating between her two breasts, squirting with
one while she played with the other. "Second," she said "You really seem to
like it." Before I could ask her what she meant, she revealed that she had been
making my morning coffee with her fresh milk for the past year. "You always
said I made a great pot of coffee."

That was it - I couldn't resist any more. For a few minutes at least, I didn't
care what she had done or why. Opening my mouth wide I strained to catch as
much of her milk as I could. It tasted incredible, and just knowing where it
came from was more arousing than I would have ever suspected. Forgetting my
predicament for the moment, I pulled at my chains, trying to get close enough
to actually suckle at her tit.

"Enough foreplay," she suddenly snapped. Ripping off her panties, she grabbed
ahold of my chains, hooked her legs over my shoulders, and shoved her sopping
pussy in my face. "Smell it! Smell how hot and horny you've made your dear
wife!" Locking her legs around me head, she began grinding herself into my
face, smearing her juices all over me. "Smell it, taste it, you slut! You like
my dirty panties so much, you should love getting it from the source!"

God, yes! Abandoning my inhibitions, I dove into her cunt, licking and sucking
for all I was worth. With the way she was bouncing around I had no control, but
every time her little clit slipped into my mouth I latched onto it and sucked
her to a frenzy. I'd fantasized about her taking control so many times, but had
never actually dreamed my prissy little wife could be capable of such
wantonness! Before long, I was shocked to find myself cumming inside my
panties, even though nobody had so much as touched my cock!

"Yes, yes, oooohhhh fucccccckkkkk!" Nearing her own climax, Genny began humping
my face harder and harder, using the chains for leverage. When she finally came
- with an ear-splitting shriek - I felt my face being bathed in a fine mist of
pussy juices. Damn, I'd heard about female ejaculations before, but had never
experienced one.

Suddenly a little squeamish, I silently wondered "Is THIS what my wife needed
to get off?"

"Ohhh, godddddd." Panting, she slipped off my shoulders and licked her own
juices from my lipsticked-lips. "I never been able to ejaculate like that
before," she sighed. Grinning, she told me "You're a good little slut, yes you
are. Hell, you'd make a bitching lesbian." The idea DID have its appeal, but
what she said next brought me crashing right back down to earth. "Too bad
Andrea won't settle for that."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry, dear," she said, patting me on the head. "You can always be
perfectly happy as a bisexual."

"What?" Terrified, I blanched at the image of my ex-wife laughing madly as
strange men raped me here in my little cell. I'd admitted to my cross-dressing
fantasies in court - as hard as that had been - but had told the truth when I
denied being gay. I had no interest in men, and no interest in being a woman -
I just liked the feel of lingerie! Unfortunately, thanks to that photo Andrea
had taken, my denial hadn't made the impact on the case that I had hoped.

And it certainly wasn't helping matters here.

"No, please," I begged. "Talk to her - she'll listen to you."

She just smiled and grabbed one of the perfume bottles from the floor. "I
assume this one's your favourite - since it seems to get used up so fast."
Giving my hairy chest a liberal spraying, she grinned. "If you have half the
success I've had with it, honey, you'll be a world-class slut in no time."

"No! Genny, please!" It was no use. Laughing, she left me alone, leaving the
light on so I could see what I had become. Staring at my dirty, disheveled
reflection, I felt the return of all the shame and humiliation I had
momentarily repressed. My hair was a mess, my make-up was smeared, my panties
were damp with cum, and my bra had slipped a bit. Beneath it all, you could
still see the hairy chest, stubbly chin, sideburns, callused hands, and bulky
physique of a broken man.

I'd just begun to sob quietly - mainly over things no guy should have to worry
about - when the door opened again.


Part 2 - Punished

"My, my, my - the sissy-fag finally shows his true colours."

"You BITCH!" Snarling, I launched myself towards the door, only to have my
chains snatch me back. This was the woman who had ruined me, the cold-hearted
bitch who had taken 70 percent of everything we owned - and was STILL demanding
more. Again, I fought my chains, wanting nothing more than to plant my fist -
painted nails and all - in the middle of her smug face.

Andrea just laughed. "Isn't this what you wanted?" she asked. Dressed in a
skin- tight black latex gown, she leaned back against the doorframe, one
stiletto-heeled bitch boot propped against the opposite side. "Isn't this the
dream that you spewed your worthless seed all over my wedding gown for?"

"No," I growled, "And you damn well know it." Ignoring the pain of my raw,
bruised wrists, I fell as far forward as the chains would allow. "Now, let me
go, and I just might ask the judge to be lenient."

She shook her head and grinned. "Wrong answer, slut."

"What the fuck do you hope to gain by this?" I demanded. "Come on, tell me -
what's in it for you?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her reach into the corner of my cell, but it
was too late to do me any good. Before I could even THINK about bracing myself,
she was pulling on my chains, hoisting me painfully into the air. "Revenge,"
she cried. Taking two steps back, she wrapped the steel links around her fist
and yanked again. "Revenge!"

"Arrrgggghhhhh!" Suddenly suspended from the concrete ceiling, my arms and legs
spread wide to form an X, I howled. My ex-wife wasn't exactly a strong woman,
and she hadn't pulled very hard, but I could hear the pulleys and wheels behind
me multiplying her force. The strain on my wrists and ankles was intense, but
nothing compared to the agony that was burning in the sockets of my legs and
arms. "Let . . . me . . . go . . ."

"Hurts, doesn't it?" she grinned. "Perhaps, but it's still nothing compared to
the humiliation I suffered because of you." Letting me drop a few inches, she
suddenly jumped back, causing me to cry out again. "You have no idea the jokes
and stares and accusations I endured because of you." Again and again she let
me go, only to jerk me back into place, harder and harder each time. "You made
me the wife who couldn't satisfy her husband! The woman who couldn't handle a
REAL man! The fucking dyke who needed to dress up a faggot to get laid!"

When her strength finally began to fade, I allowed myself to relax enough to
respond. "That was all . . . your fault. You were the one who . . . who went
public, who dragged MY name . . . through the mud. Who humiliated ME in front
of . . . not just our friends . . . but complete fucking strangers!" Panting
hard, I licked the sweat from my lips for moisture. Staring into her cold blue
eyes, I said "Our marriage could have ended peacefully. YOU were the one
determined to make a circus out of it."

"Hmph - still won't accept responsibility for your actions, eh?"

It was then that I realized just how deeply she'd been deluding herself. All
this time, feeling like SHE had been the one wronged. Genny's words of just a
day ago - clearly scripted by this insane woman before me - echoed in my ears:
"You really must learn to take responsibility for your actions. That's what
this is all about - admitting your guilt and paying the price."

My god, how could I make her see the truth?

"No matter," she said with a shrug. Attaching the free end of my chains to a
hook in the corner - leaving me suspended a foot off the ground - she sighed.
"You will come to accept the truth, Ken. It may take a very, very long time,
but you will learn." Then, with a grin, she said "Please, resist for as long as
you can. The more you fight, the sweeter my revenge will be."

With that, she stepped back and slammed the door shut behind her. Turning my
face away from the hot white bulb of light before me - gawd, I already missed
the darkness - I prepared myself for an excruciating night.

"Morning, honey!" Genny cheerfully pulled the door wide open, allowing me to
glimpse a tiny bit of darkness outside the basement window. Still smiling, she
gently nudged me aside - causing me to gasp in renewed pain - and grabbed a
plastic dropcloth from the shelf.

"Wha . . . doin . . . ?"

"Aw, is my poor little Kenny thirsty?" Her beautiful red lips pouting my way,
she laid the sheet of plastic beneath me. Then, standing, she laughed. "Well,
get ready to open wide, and I promise you a big surprise."

Seconds later, she was standing outside my prison, a long green garden hose in
her hand. "This is gonna be so fun," she squealed. Stepping over it - her white
leather mini riding up to reveal the matching garter beneath - she straddled
the hose and laughed. Then, looking back over her shoulder, she screamed "Go
ahead!"

Trembling, suspended in the air, all I could do was watch helplessly. Genny had
her eyes closed, moaning softly as she stroked the hose between her legs. She
may still have been my wife - nobody had said anything to the contrary yet -
but she was no longer the cute, innocent little gal I remembered. Andrea had
turned her, corrupted her, changed her into a depraved stranger I wasn't sure I
cared to know.

Suddenly, she cried out in ecstasy, the hose bucking between her stockinged
thighs as it spewed ice cold water all over me. I vaguely heard myself cry out
from the shock, but the pain of my own sudden movement was blocking everything
else out. After two, maybe three days in my make-shift dungeon, such a crude
shower should have felt wonderful. Instead, my ex-wife had left me in the one
position that would make any kind of relief impossible.

"Open wide, my darling little whore!" Really into the fantasy, Genny was
fondling the hose like it was her own monster cock. In her dainty hands, it
looked far bigger than it was, and with her long pink nails curled around it .
. . I was ashamed to admit I felt a little envious. "Open wide, slut! Andrea
says you'll need a nice, wet, slippery throat for what's coming next."

Despite myself, I took her advice, far too thirsty to worry about anything
beyond the here-and-now. The first few swallows made me want to vomit - the
last thing I'd had to eat or drink was a beer on Sunday - but before long I was
gulping greedily. Then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, the water stopped
and she let the limp hose drop to the floor.

"Feel better?" she asked, stepping back into my prison. "Well, you certainly
SMELL better." Giggling, she grabbed the bottle of perfume from beneath the
tarp and gave me another liberal spraying. "Now, don't you go anywhere, honey."
Retreating into the basement, she pushed the door closed behind her.

I could still hear her high-pitched laughter as it faded into the distance, but
I had other things on my mind. Looking into the water-spotted mirror before me,
I cringed in disgust. I was sopping wet; my hastily dyed perm was all matted,
limp against the sides of my head; there was runny, smeared makeup all over my
face; my lingerie was clinging unattractively to my skin; and I stank of way
too much perfume. Not only that, but my wet body had slipped just slightly in
its chains, the manacles now biting even deeper into my flesh.

I already felt so awful, so ashamed, the triumphant return of Andrea was kind
of anticlimactic.

At least, for the first few seconds.

"Let's see . . . is there anything we'd like to fix up before putting you to
work?" Nodding, she slipped a tube of lipstick from between her breasts and
stepped forward. As sore and tired as I was, I did my best to resist, but she
was able to hold my face fairly steady as she applied more red to my lips. "Oh,
that is just TOO perfect!" Pulling the door closed just enough for me to see my
reflection, she laughed at the look of disgust on my face. I looked like a
fucking clown! I now sported huge, uneven red lips, with a trail of red
lipstick trailing off towards my right cheek. Worst of all, I knew my struggles
were to blame - although I suspected she wanted it this way.

"I'd like you to meet some new friends," she smiled. Pushing the door open
again, she waved to somebody out of sight. "You remember David, don't you?"

David was her sorry excuse for a brother, a perpetual ex-con who'd spent half
his life in prison and the other half on parole. Nearly 6 feet tall, and
somewhere around 250 pounds, he was still in the same shape he'd been when a
rape charge had ended his college football career. He had greasy brown hair -
pulled back in a short little pony tail - and a bushy beard, mustache and
sideburns in the same dirty state.

"David's been on parole for almost five months, but he misses prison."
Grinning, she told me "He says it's the food, but what he REALLY misses are the
pansies. You know, the little faggots who like to drop the soap in the shower?"

He smiled, displaying a row of yellowed, broken teeth. "Like the lipstick -
nice touch, boy."

Waving again, she said "Oh, and you DO remember Frank, of course."

How could I forget? His father's son in every respect, Frank was a career
criminal who'd spent most of his life on the streets. A little shorter and a
lot skinnier than David, his bald head sported a tattoo of two naked women
riding a giant snake. At least, he told everyone it was a snake - with the head
and tail buried in the sluts above, it was hard to be sure. He was also the
asshole who had harassed and threatened me for the better part of a year,
demanding I give his Auntie everything she wanted. Andrea, of course, publicly
denied having sent him, but had privately gloated over it every chance she got.

"How ya doing, pussy-boy?" Resting his steel-toed work-boots on one of my
chains, he smiled as my legs were spread even wider. "Hmm, I do believe he's
enjoying that!"

Together, the three of them laughed, my bitch of an ex-wife the loudest of all.
I wanted to scream, to jump down and tear them all to pieces but, even if my
chains had mysteriously vanished, I was too weak to move. Instead, I defiantly
looked away - refusing to hang my head in shame - and waited for the peepshow
to be over.

"Alright, boys, each of you grab an armpit, just like we discussed." As soon as
two brutes were in place, she took the chain from its hook in the corner and
let me drop.

For a brief moment, I felt great, the tension and strain suddenly gone.
However, an instant later, the blood began to flow again and my entire body
burst into an agony of pins and needles as nerves reawakened. At the same time,
I became aware of the rough hands that were so tightly gripping my armpits -
almost painlessly, for the moment.

"Good, good." Tossing my leg-chains out of the way - but leaving the manacles -
she backed out of the way. "Remember, Frank - while your Dad holds the sissy
down, you make sure those chains are good and tight."

With a sudden, desperate burst of adrenaline, I thrashed against my captors,
but it was no use. Half my muscles simply refused to respond, and the others
didn't even have the strength of a child. I felt so helpless, so utterly
defenceless - and she was loving it!

"Look at him squirm!" Dressed in the same black latex outfit as yesterday -
today? the day before? - she had taken off her belt and was whipping my ass
with it. Felt through the damp, satin panties, each stinging bite propelled me
along at little faster. When David and Frank finally tossed me over my wife's
pink hope-chest - already bolted to the concrete floor - I was actually
relieved.

"For fuck's sake, hurry up," David growled. Pinning me against the hard, cold
wood with his body, he said, "The little bitch is getting feisty."

In the end, my struggles were as meaningless as everything else I'd done since
falling into Andrea's clutches. Frank locked my wrists to the floor, clamping
the manacles in some kind of vice at the farthest extent of my reach. Then,
while his father concentrated on holding me in place, the young bastard had
scrambled backwards, threading the chains through a series of rings bolted to
the floor.

"Yes, that's it," my blonde tormentress said, nodding. "One they're threaded
through, make sure to cross over at the end."

Through bleary, tear-streaked eyes I saw him reach the last ring before me,
where he crossed one chain over the other, as instructed. Next, he took the
chain from my right wrist and threaded it through a second series of rings
bolted along the left side of the chest. Abandoning it for a moment, he did the
same with my left wrist-chain, running it along the other side.

"Auntie - padlock!" Horrified, I watched Andrea toss a heavy-duty steel padlock
to her nephew. An instant later, he shoved my left leg forward, pressing
leaving my knee against the side of the hope-chest while he secured the chain
to my manacle. Before my dazed mind could fully comprehend what had happened,
my right leg suffered the same fate.

"Alright, that'll hold him while we finish up." Climbing off my back, David
knelt down on my left while his son remained on my right. Together, they pushed
my legs even farther forward, tightening my chains by a link or two on each
side. Finally, when they had me where they wanted me, I heard the depressing
'click' of both locks being snapped shut.

Then - mercifully - they left me alone for a moment and went off with the bitch
to arrange something else. Still trying to control my breathing, to slow my
racing heart, I craned my head back and forth to see what had been done to me.
In essence, they had me kneeling over the chest, my arms stretched out before
me, and my legs tucked up until my heels were even with my ass. After spending
a night suspended painfully from the ceiling of the root cellar, this was
almost comfy.

"Alright, see ya later, sis!"

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Auntie!"

As my two abusers stepped back into the room, I heard the door slam shut
upstairs - leaving the three of us alone. Gawd, I HOPED they were only there to
scare me, to terrorize me into making some kind of humiliating deal . . . but I
doubted it. Shaking, I tried to speak, but had to swallow several times before
I could even manage a croak. "Guys . . . please, let me go and . . . and I'll
make it worth your while." I didn't believe for a second that my ex-wife was
gone for the night, so I had to deal - and deal fast. If that was what they
wanted, so be it. I was willing to give just about anything to earn my freedom.
And, if a deal WASN'T what they were here for . . . well, I just had to hope
they'd listen.

"Shut up, sissy-fag." David began walking towards me, undoing his belt on the
way. "You had better be good, 'cause I've had some of the best." Stopping less
than a foot away, he kicked off his jeans and straddled my chains. Then,
grabbing a fistful of hair, he yanked my head up until I was facing his crotch.
"See that," he growled, "It's all for you. Yup - big, hard, and full of fuck-
juice."

"Mine ain't quite as long," Frank said from behind me, "But it's nice and
thick."

Suddenly, I felt something warm, something hard, slap down between the cheeks
of my ass. I knew EXACTLY what it was, but refused to accept it. How that could
have possibly made any difference, I don't know, but it seemed my only defence.

"Now, I know you want it - hell, you pussy-boys were just born to be penetrated
- but what we need is a little lubrication." I moaned - whimpered almost - as I
felt him rub a healthy load of spit into my ass. "Just a little, though," he
laughed. "You want that first drive home to be as rough and nasty as possible."

"No, please don't," I begged. "Please! I already promised to give you anything
you want - why won't you let me go?"

Both men laughed. "Why?" Frank asked. "You wanna know why?"

David grinned and took another step closer. "Tell the boy why we won't let him
go."

"Because we already got what we want - THIS!"

I started to scream as I felt that rock-hard piston stab into my ass, but the
instant I opened my mouth, David shoved his cock deep inside. That made me want
to gag, to spit it out, but I had something else on my mind. His son was
slamming into my ass, roughly forcing his cock down a tenth-of-an-inch at a
time. I could feel every tiny bump of flesh as it slid painfully past my tight
little hole, forcing it wider than nature had ever intended. At the same time,
I could feel the swollen head breaking new ground inside me, forcing my bowels
to accommodate him.

"Hurry up and get that thing in there," David snapped. "I want the sissy bitch
to suck, to learn a proper blowjob, but he's too busy screaming around my
dick."

"Wait . . . your . . . fucking . . . turn!" With each word my bald fucker
plunged even deeper inside, tearing me apart. I thought for sure my ass would
split wide open, but that deadly release was not to be. Instead, my insides
stretched and pulled and twisted until his hairy balls were tickling my ass -
humiliating me even further.

"Good. Now, hold still for a moment and let me get started." His greasy hand
still in my hair, he yanked me up until I was looking him in the eye. "You got
two ways to do this, boy. Either you learn to suck and give me the best damn
blow of your life, or . . ."

He laughed, then let me go and waited to see what I would do.

What choice did I have? A mess of black pubic hairs filling my field of vision,
the rank stench of sweat assailing my nose, and the horrid feel of another
man's dick on my tongue - I knew it would all end the same way. Whether I liked
it or not, I'd end up doing what he wanted. So, telling myself the sooner I
started, the sooner it'd be over with, I took my first tentative suck.

"Ha! Looks like you owe me twenty bucks!" Ripping his cock from my ass with one
brutal stroke, Frank reached forward to muss my hair. "Less than a full stroke
in his ass, and already he's playing the old skin-flute like a pro."

David growled and slapped my cheek. "Now you've cost me money, faggot." Shoving
an inch of dick down my throat, he warned "Either you get real good, real
quick, or I'm gonna have to find another way for you to pay me back."

Feeling that hard knob of flesh lodged in my throat, I began to panic, gagging
and gasping for air. Perversely, that just seemed to turn him on! It was as if
the desperate spasms of my throat were actually adding to the blowjob, causing
him to grow bigger and deeper inside me.

"Fuck, yeah! Take it slut . . . take it nice and deep." Digging his fingers
into the back of my head, David suddenly jerked me forward, nearly breaking my
nose in his efforts to plunge a little deeper.

That little move made me aware of something far more worrisome than that first
instant of panic - my traitorous throat was slowly becoming used to it! The
pain had passed, the gag reflex was no longer as strong and, as I could feel
myself actually begin swallowing around him. Suddenly, I realized that with a
little time, a little practice, I might even learn to be comfortable.

Just then, Frank issued me a none-too-subtle reminder of his presence. Pulling
the sides of my ass apart, he took a deep breath and rammed his cock as hard
and as deep as it would go. I groaned into my mouthful of cock - already the
pain had given way to mere discomfort - but he just kept pushing. Again and
again he did it, the quick retreat feeling like the sweetest agony, while the
slow penetration seemed to wear away a little bit of my resistance every time.
My gawd - I could feel my body getting used to even that!

"Like that, do ya? Huh, bitch?" Spreading his own legs wider, Frank fell onto
my back and began nibbling on my ear. "Feels good, doesn't?" he whispered. "Oh
yeah, I can feel how much you want it. I have a very sensitive cock, and it
tells me your ass is just begging for more. Well, I'll tell ya a secret . . ."

Rising, he snapped at my bra-strap and laughed as I flinched beneath him. "Oh
yeah, I'll tell you a secret alright - a few loads of cum up there, and you'll
be able to go all night!"

It wasn't long after that before father and son came - flooding me with other
men's sperm at both ends!

First, David growled low in his throat, making a few short jabs down my throat
before pulling back to lay the swollen head on my tongue. I could FEEL the cum
racing down his dick, FEEL it pulsing through the centre of his cock, FEEL it
rippling against my tongue. Still, nothing could have prepared me for that
first spurt, that explosion of hot white fire against the roof of my mouth. I
jerked up in surprise, and that's when Frank chose to go off.

The exact opposite of David, he pulled out for a few short fucks, and then
slammed it ALL home. I was still trying to cope with my semen-coated mouth when
my ass got drenched from the inside, hot stick cum already pooling around his
dick before he could spurt again.

"Ungggghhhhh!"

"Argghhhhh!"

"TASTE it, faggot!"

"FEEL it, sissy-boy!"

It only took seconds for my degradation to be complete, but it seemed an
eternity. David would shoot his slime against the inside of my cheek, and Frank
would spew his into the black depths of my ass. Greasy-haired father would slap
my face back and forth, spreading the taste of fresh sperm around, and bald-
headed son would jerk my hips towards him, dropping another load deep into my
once-virgin ass. Back and forth, tasting it, feeling it, hearing the two of
them urge me on. When it finally did end, a sense of relief washed over me, so
great I almost thanked them for cumming so quick.

Less than a minute later, they switched places to start again.

Sore, tired, and emotionally numb - for which I would be eternally grateful - I
looked up at the sound of feet on the stairs. It had been nearly three hours
since my confusing ordeal, and every detail was still fresh in my mind. After
that first time, they had taken it nice and slow, enjoying themselves despite
Andrea's brutal instructions. Frank had been right - the semen inside me DID
make his Dad's job easier, and I had even felt my own cock twitch a few times
in response.

I still didn't want to think about that, though.

Meanwhile, I had gotten frighteningly comfortable with a cock in my mouth.
While David's eight inches had sorely tested my limits, his son's thicker six
inches didn't penetrate nearly as deep. Not that it spent much time there
anyway. His dick had been too thick for me to keep my tongue away, and whenever
I swallowed I ended up giving it a reluctant lick. Enjoying that, Frank had
forsaken the tight tunnel of my throat, opting instead for a lick and suck
session. With my eyes closed, I'd given him what he wanted, telling myself that
it was just to preserve my throat.

I still had a nagging doubt that part of me had enjoyed it.

"Did you have fun, honey?" Kneeling beside me, Genny wiped cummy, sweat- soaked
hair from my eyes. "Bet you're tired, huh? Thirsty too, probably." Placing a
cold, damp glass against my lips, she said "Drink up, dear. You'll feel sooo
much better."

As I sipped slowly, carefully, I was immediately struck by the strangely
familiar taste. Neither sweet nor sour, it had a kind of nutty, faintly coppery
taste to it. Maybe, if I hadn't been so painfully thirsty, so desperate for
something to soothe my raw throat, I would have recognized it sooner.

"Don't be shy, Kenny. Drink up." Smiling, she told me "There's plenty more
where that came from."

With that, she tipped the glass higher, flooding my mouth until I was almost
gagging. Suddenly, I blanched. Thick and smooth against my tongue, whatever it
was had an uncomfortably familiar feel to it. It was almost like . . .

"Blechhh!" Jerking my head away from the perverse offering, I nearly chipped a
tooth on the glass rim. She'd been feeding me cum! My own wife, my sweet little
Genny, had been calmly pouring a mug-ful of semen down my throat! Spitting the
disgusting seed over everything - the floor, her feet, her legs - I gagged with
a desperate need to be rid of it.

"For fuck's sake, Genny - what are you trying to do to me?"

Grinning, she dipped her finger in the glass and swirled it around. Then,
sucking it clean, she told me "I guess it is kind of an acquired taste, hon,
but well worth the effort."

Suddenly, arms crossed over her naked tits, Andrea stepped into view. Gawd, the
bitch had been watching - and probably directing - the whole thing! "We try to
do something nice for you, give you a gift, and this is how you repay us." She
shook her head and sighed. "Looks like the slut drinks it fresh tonight."

"No!" Shocked by the pleading, whiny voice I heard coming from between my lips,
I added "Please."

The bitch smiled and turned to Genny. "See, my dear - it IS working." As my
wife nodded, Andrea walked out of view. Seconds later she returned with a
fucking pitcher of cum! "The little sissy is so hungry, he just can't wait to
get it fresh." She brought the pitcher to her lips and winked my way. "He wants
it now, but was ashamed to let you know it. Here," she told Genny, "Why don't
you do the honours?"

Before I could protest, try to explain that wasn't what I'd meant, the bitch
pulled my head back and slapped her hand down over my mouth. Then, with her
black nails pinching my nose shut, I watched my darling wife perform the most
obscene, degrading, perverted act of her life. She took the pitcher of cum . .
. turned it upside down . . . and waited. It seemed to take forever before that
white goo began to flow but, when it did, it dropped into her mouth with a
sickening 'plop'.

I flinched at the sound, squirming as I tried to move my hardening dick into a
more comfortable position. As disgusted as I was with the forbidden act yet to
come, seeing Genny take all that sperm in her mouth was a definite turn-on.
Frozen with a perverted sense of awe, I watched while she just kept on pouring.
Then, her cheeks literally bulging, streams of slimy white goo running down her
chin, she leaned down . . . and . . . kissed me!

I tried to resist, tried to hold back, desperately willed myself to black-out
or suffocate - but that damned instinct for self-preservation kicked in.
Gasping for air, I opened wide, only to receive the river of sperm just waiting
to overflow her lips and mine. Again and again, she spat mouthfuls of cum into
my mouth, the viscous liquid oh- so-slowly sliding down my throat.

At first, I loathed the feeling AND the taste, but it wasn't long before my
throat decided it appreciated the relief. There was enough shame in that
instinctive response to shrivel my dick, but I couldn't make it last. With her
eyes closed, moaning into our kiss like some slutty porno starlet, my wife
inspired a feeling of lust sufficient to make me hard again.

But, it wasn't until she OPENED her eyes that I felt something change forever
within me. Those eyes were the same bright green I remembered, full of life,
energy, and love. Even now, as she spat the cum of nameless strangers into my
mouth, I could see that she loved me. Genny was enjoying this, and silently
pleading with me to enjoy it too.

Gawd, I was so confused! I knew why Andrea was doing this, why she wanted me to
suffer - that was the easy part. Genny, though . . . just what was going on
inside her head? Had she gone to Andrea about her discovery? Had she even made
a discovery? Was she a co-conspirator in my punishment, or did she have another
end in mind? So many questions, so many possibilities, but damned few answers.

When we were finished, Andrea patted my wife on the back and smiled. "Don't let
his protests fool you - he loved it. However, feeding him like that IS rather
inconvenient, not to mention disgustingly messy. What we have to do is offer
the little sissy some incentives." Kneeling beside me, she rubbed a cummy
finger across my lips as she explained.

"First of all, you can be a bad slut, Kenneth, and refuse to drink your
wonderful cum. In that case, each and every load spilled before your next
feeding goes into your mouth." Dipping her hand into the foul pitcher, she
began rubbing the filth all over my face. "If it lands on the floor, somebody
will collect it for you. If it lands on anything else - bodies, clothes, shoes,
whatever - you will LICK them clean." Smiling, she slapped my ass, poking at my
hole with her cum-covered finger. "And don't think begging your new friends to
shoot up HERE will do you any good, slut. We'll just scoop out their sperm and
fucking RAM it down your throat!"

"Unnggghhhh!" I squirmed and thrashed against my chains, but provoked only a
faint rattle - which was masked by my agonized groan. On the word 'ram', Andrea
had shoved two more fingers inside my ass, forcing them in past the second
knuckle. Then, hooking the three fingers slightly, she'd begun twisting and
turning them around, scraping the insides of my ass with her nails.

"It doesn't have to be like that, of course," she shrugged. "If you drink
willingly, accept the gift your sweet wife works so hard to collect, you'll
only be required to swallow the cum that's shot in your mouth." She smiled,
noting my reaction to Genny's newest duty, then continued. "And, as a reward
for being a good slut, you'll get a real dinner - cold leftovers, covered with
cum, of course."

Slowly, as she talked, the bitch wormed another finger inside my ass, leaving
only her thumb outside. I was somewhat relived to know how much would've hurt,
had I not been fucked so well earlier - but it was a hard thing to appreciate.
However, when she began curling and uncurling her fingers inside me, fucking
them in and out at the same time, I DID silently thank my earlier abusers.

"Finally, my little whore, you can beg to drink, plead with me for a glass of
delicious cum. If you do that, it'll be open-mouthed facials all night, and you
will only have to drink what lands or drips inside." Suddenly, she shoved that
lonely thumb inside my ass and pushed. I groaned, reacting as much to the SIGHT
as the feel of her hand in my ass. "That brings a reward too," she told me, as
if this were just another pleasant conversation. "Not one, Kenny, but two meals
- breakfast AND dinner, covered with warm, lovely sperm."

Whatever came next was lost, drowned out by my wife's sloppy cunt as Genny
dropped to the floor and pulled it to my face. Distracted for just a moment, I
suddenly flinched, feeling Andrea's gold watch pressing against the outside of
my ass. Laughing, she wiggled it a little deeper, began to make a fist inside
me, and then . . .

I came.

My gawd, how or why I don't understand, but I felt my cock explode beneath me,
spreading hot cum all over my stomach. Shocked, I gasped into my wife's cunt,
inhaling her juices as she orgasmed too. Together, we shared the most
confusing, shameful - yet exciting - climax of our lives.

She released my head just in time for me to hear Andrea slam the upstairs door
behind her and go stomping off across the house. Putting a finger to her lips,
Genny choked back a giggle and winked my way, then followed the bitch upstairs.

More confused than ever before, I collapsed atop the pink chest, closed my
eyes, sighed . . . and slept.

*******

Mmmm, hope you enjoyed that. Are your pretty panties nice and wet? Is your
lovely cock good and hard? Maybe your wonderful tits are tingling, hmm? Well,
why not email me (sissipus@hotmail.com) or stop by (www.sexysites.com/sissipus/
) and let me know how I can help (grin).

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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