Horny Housewives Being a whore of a Manwhore
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The House Whore - Part 7 free porn video
THE HOUSE-WHORE
By Kathy Morris
Copyright 2002, Kathy Morris
Part 7
Susan's revelry was short-lived as she heard the toilet flush in Uncle
Dan's bathroom and realised that she did not want to bear the brunt
again of her husband's anger again so, standing, she took her first,
small step towards the door. With her head thrust back by the posture
collar Susan could only feel the rapid tug and hear the sharp "snap"
from the short chain connecting her ankles, as he took a tiny step,
realising that it only allowed her to place each foot before the other
in ridiculous, five inch paces. With her arms bound to her waist and
back, Susan had no means of assisting her balance as she teetered
across the room to the door in her six inch high stilettos, and several
times as she took diminutive steps, she nearly tripped.
Eventually Susan made it to the door and opening it, tiptoed in her
heels out onto the landing. As an afterthought she turned precariously
on her heels and closed Dan's bedroom door behind her then, with her
right hand resting on the broad, polished wooden banister, she started
to move along the landing to the head of the stairs. As she walked, the
short chain between her ankles clicked and clacked as she minced along
the landing with aching feet, taking tiny, tippy-toed steps, which made
her feel so vulnerable and yet at the same time added to her need for
being subservient and feminine. She realised with mounting excitement
that she was taking some pleasure from being so defenceless and weak,
caused by her restrictive corset and bindings and the extremely high
heels of her shoes.
Making the top of the stairs, Susan tentatively tried to ascend, but
realised that the chain that had restricted her steps would also
prevent her from walking down the stairs. She thought about her
predicament and then, solving the problem, lowered herself to her
knees. She twisted her hips and sat down on the rough pile of the
carpet. The floor covering beneath her bottom aggravated her soreness
and it felt to Susan as though a thousand red-hot needles were sticking
into her flesh. Resigned to having to endure the discomfort to her skin
caused by the carpet, Susan swung her legs round and placed her feet on
the stairs several steps down. Still hanging on to the wooden upright
poles of the banister with her right, partially free hand, she inched
her bottom forwards over the rough carpet and placed it on the next
step. She lifted her legs and placed her heels on the next step down.
By the time that Susan had finally reached the bottom of the stairs her
bottom was sore, not just from the punishment which Uncle Dan had given
her, but from shuffling down the stairs, and she wished that her new
husband would have allowed her to have worn panties. As she descended
the stairs, Susan had tried very hard not to ladder her stockings and
was pleased with herself that she had suffered none when she reached
the bottom and, with great difficulty, adjusted her right stocking and
suspenders, ensuring that, as Dan had ordered her, her seams were
straight and perfectly running up the centre of her ankles, calves and
thighs.
Susan teetered unsteadily from the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen
and paused in the hallway to observe her appearance in the mirror. She
was not unpleasantly surprised at her reflection. With her head held
back by the studded, black posture collar, Susan had to bend as well as
she was able in her corset, in order to fully appraise her dress,
makeup and bindings. The gag in her mouth made her look like a
grotesque, laughing clown, Susan thought, but, she could not deny to
herself, that she was becoming used to the device and that the rubber
ball had a not too unpleasant taste and smell though the thing did make
her jaw ache. As she swallowed saliva caused by the ball-gag rubbing on
her tongue, Susan slurped noisily. Not a very feminine sound, she
thought primly, but I am Dan's wife and if he wishes to keep me this
way, then it's his right. She heard a loud laugh come from the kitchen,
and realised that her men were already in the kitchen waiting for their
breakfasts, so hurried as fast as her tiny steps and high heels
allowed.
When Susan hobbled into the kitchen, she saw that Grandfather, Uncle
Ben and Uncle Ted were already sat at the table. They turned their head
as they heard her stiletto heels on the floor tiles, but, as if every
day she went around dressed as she was now, they resumed their
conversation after, almost casually, saying "Good morning!" to her. She
tried to smile at them but couldn't with the ball-gag in her mouth, so
nodded her head and tried to make her eyes smile at them as she went to
the cooker to start preparing breakfast.
With one hand completely useless to her and able to only partially use
the other, Susan had a very difficult time trying to cook. The corset
and wide, leather belt tight around her waist prevented her from
bending very much and with the posture collar around her neck, she
learned that in order to see what she was cooking, she had to bend at
the knees. She also had a terrible time trying to keep her balance
while she prepared the meal, as her heels kept slipping on the smooth
tiles of the floor and the restricting ankle chain meant that she could
not step out to regain it. Susan was forced on several occasions to
drop the frying pan with a loud clatter onto the cooker and cling onto
the sink or worktops. It was probably more by luck, rather than by
trying, she thought, that she didn't spill or spoil any of the
breakfast.
Susan was nearly close to tears by the time she had made breakfast and
laid the table, as none of her men seemed to mind in the least her
obvious discomfort and awkwardness as she stumbled around noisily with
plates and cutlery, and, what was worse, she thought, none had offered
to help; they just carried on chatting and virtually ignored her.
The men only mentioned Susan's name when Dan, her husband for the day,
entered the kitchen. It was Ted who spoke to him first, asking him why
their Susie was late with the breakfast.
Ben and the others all wanted to know also and asked him, with Frank
suggesting that the reason she'd been late arriving, was because they'd
been having an early morning shag. The men laughed at his suggestion,
but Dan told them in a matter-of-fact manner that the reason she was
late was that she had been in some need of being reminded about her
marital duties.
Frank laughed and said, "There! I told you, he's been shagging his
bride."
Dan smiled and shook his head joining in with the general laughter that
erupted at the table. "No, no, not yet." he said laughingly. "Do you
think that my mattress caused those stripes on her arse?" he asked
mockingly.
Susan blushed as she heard the men discussing her and as she realised
that she bore the marks from her punishment. It was with an almost
reflex action at hearing their talk about her, that she felt at her
sore bottom cheeks with her right hand and traced the risen wheals with
her fingertips.
Uncle Dan saw Susan feeling her bottom and said loudly, "Stop bloody
playing with yourself, woman and get us some breakfast!"
Susan almost jumped at hearing his thunderous voice and busied herself
with serving the meal.
After serving the men, one at a time because of her forced
disabilities, she took her own plate and set it down at the place she
had set for her own meal.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Dan asked, his voice
full of menace.
Susan almost dropped her plate at hearing his voice but managed to
carefully put it down and looked enquiringly at him. She noticed that
none of her other Uncles or Grandfather were in the least bit perturbed
by Dan's demeanour or his words as he said, "I'm your lord and fucking
master, today, aren't I?" he asked, and without waiting for any
acknowledgment by Susan, he answered for her and continued, "Yes,
that's bloody well right, I am, so," he paused as if relishing the
moment, "get your slag's arse round here and see to my bloody needs!"
he thundered.
Susan walked as fast as she could round the table and stood at Dan's
right shoulder.
He said, "Stand up straight and don't move!" he ordered. Chewing on a
mouthful of bacon and eggs he turned his head to make sure that she was
positioned correctly. He nodded to her and resumed his breakfast.
Susan stood obediently and listened to the small talk and clatter of
cutlery around the table. Her calves and feet ached terribly as she
stood behind Dan, and she thought that she must look like some strange
type of guard, standing to attention, her head thrust back and chin up
in a haughty posture.
Dan reached out and tenderly caressed her leg, tracing his finger over
the smooth, shiny, black nylon to get her attention. "Get me some more
toast!" he ordered simply.
Susan immediately complied with his demand and teetered unsteadily
across the kitchen to place bread into the toaster. She heard him say
to the others, "If she does everything that she's told as quickly as
that, we're going to get on just famously," and joined in with their
knowing chuckles and smiles of agreement.
She brought her husband the fresh toast when it was ready and resumed
her position at his shoulder. She felt her tummy rumble and hoped that
Dan didn't hear it. She thought that Dan would most likely remove her
gag after breakfast and then allow her to eat her breakfast. She smiled
inwardly as she thought that he probably just liked her to appear very
dutiful by positioning her at his shoulder in the somewhat bizarre
posture which she was made to assume, and that really she didn't mind
too much pandering to his desires.
She felt his hand lightly brush her leg again as he said, "Butter me
some toast, slag!" so she dutifully obeyed him and set to trying to
butter the toast using her one hand and trying not to look foolish with
her ineptness.
Dan looked at Susan as she attempted to butter his toast and admired
her uncomfortable posture and exaggerated makeup. He smiled to himself,
pleased that she had accepted her role as his servile wife quickly,
though, he pondered somewhat ruefully, she might have been a little
more unaccepting and he would have then had to bend her will with the
application of harsher punishment. The thought pleased him and he felt
a stirring in his prick.
Casually, as his slut wife continued buttering toast, he ran his
fingers up and down the backs of Susie's legs; feeling the gossamer
thin, smooth nylon. He traced the seams of her stockings and toyed with
the creases that formed at the backs of her knees. He liked the feel of
her stockings and his prick hardened more as she teetered slightly, his
tickling fingers still tracing circles on her smooth, black shiny legs,
and her heels clattering on the hard floor tiles as she tried to keep
her balance.
He looked at Susan's pretty eyes, watching her incredibly long
eyelashes fluttering as she concentrated on her work, and said to her,
"When I've got my work done for the day, slag, you and I are going for
a little walk." He watched her face to see her reaction and continued.
"It's such a nice day, it'd be a shame not to enjoy it, eh, my little
slag?" he asked.
Susan's eyes met his and she bobbed her body in an exaggerated nod to
show him that she didn't want to displease him, and then stood up
straightening her legs, her present task completed.
"Right, then," he said pleased that she accepted his plan, "make sure
that you get all your housework done so we can take a little stroll and
enjoy the sunshine. I'll get back about half past three."
Susan listened as Dan told her of their plans for the day and wondered
how on earth she was going to be able to go for anything other than a
"little walk" as he called it, when she was clearly not able to do
anything else in the shoes she wore and the damned ankle chain.
Even though she realised that she really did want to please her husband
in every way she possibly could, her cruelly arched feet were already
aching terribly and her ankles and calves were trembling from her
restrained posture. He'll take off the chain and let my arms free, she
thought, when we go for the walk, and, she hoped, let me wear some
other shoes with smaller heels.
She pictured herself small and fragile, walking hand in hand down a
country lane with Dan, his six feet six frame towering protectively
over her, his smiling face beaming down at her, and birdsong drifting
from the hedgerows. She realised that in her thoughts, she was still
dressed only in her black corset and stockings, her bottom proudly
bare, and they walked holding hands, and the thought thrilled her. She
imagined herself sat on top of a five-barred gate at the side of a
field, Dan holding her as she reached up to kiss him tenderly.
Susan's eyes opened with a start and heard the loud "smack" at the same
time as her brain registered the pain in her bottom.
"What time are we going for a walk?" he almost shouted, poising his
large, fleshy hand ready to smack her bottom again. "Did you bloody
hear me?"
Susan tried to speak, to tell him that she understood they were to go
for a walk at three thirty. She tried to tell him but the gag muffled
and distorted the words into unintelligible sounds.
He smacked her bare bottom cheek again and watched the firm flesh
redden quickly. "What the fucking hell did you say?" he asked, enjoying
her discomfort and inability to speak.
"Meeeeethtththththhthgghhhhhhaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkffffgeeeeekkkkkkkkkkiiii
ii," she replied, feeling the stinging pain rising in her buttocks.
"Good, girl," he told her, as if her garbled, choking reply was spoken
clearly. "I want you ready and waiting when I get home, and don't be
late," he reminded her, adding, "like you fucking was this morning,
slag."
Susan bobbed her body and shook her head and wobbled as she tried to
keep her balance as her heels slipped on the tiles.
"Right, slag," he said after looking round the table and confirmed that
his father and brothers had finished their breakfasts, "we want some
coffee, so get cracking!" he ordered and spanked her bottom once to get
her moving.
Susan teetered across the kitchen, feeling the radiating warmth in her
bottom and started to spoon coffee into the mugs. Her hand shook and
she spilled some of the brown granules.
"Careful, lass, don't go wasting money like that!" she heard her
Grandfather chide her.
"No, slag, you'd better not!" Dan warned, smiling as he saw her
frustration at spilling the coffee. "You'll clean it all up like a good
wifey, won't you?" he added.
Susan was pouring hot water from the kettle into the mugs but she
managed to bob her body in an exaggerated nod to show that she'd heard
them.
"Hurry, up then girl!" she heard Grandfather say, "We've wasted enough
bloody time this morning as it is."
Susan carefully carried a mug of coffee back to the table and placed it
down for Dan, then returned to bring Grandfather's mug. Dan smiled and
said to his brothers with a wink, "It's good to get special treatment,
isn't it?" They agreed with him as they got out cigarette packets and
began lighting them.
"Can she have one, Ben?" asked his brother.
"'Course, she can, that is if she wants one," Dan affirmed.
Susan was picking up the spilt coffee granules with her finger and
thumb and putting them back in the jar. She was close to tears with
frustration, as she only wanted to please her men and wished that she
had the use of both hands so she could get the job done properly. She
heard Ben speak and turned from her task.
"Leave that a bit," he said, "you can clean it up later. Come and have
a cigarette," he said holding one out for her.
That's nice of him, she thought, and teetered over to him to accept the
proffered cigarette. She took it from Ben and waited for him to offer a
light. As he did so, Susan reached up and tried to place the cigarette
between her lips, forgetting about the ball-gag in her mouth. Realising
the futility of being offered the cigarette, she moaned with
frustration and heard Dan and a couple of his brothers laugh.
Ben was not to be outdone however, and took back Susan's cigarette. He
lit it for her and stood up saying, "'Say, Jack, ever watched a bird
smoke like this before?"
Uncle Jack watched as Ben held the cigarette and pushed it into the
corner of Susan's mouth, forcing the filter between the black, rubber
ball and the lipstick coated flesh and trapping it under the thin strap
that held the gag in place. "There!" he said pleased with himself, "At
least she can have a smoke now, Dan," and sat back down admiring his
own ingenuity.
Susan could just see the cigarette through the corner of her eye and
breathed in the soothing smoke. She nearly choked as saliva slithered
down her throat and she coughed and spluttered. Thick, blue cigarette
smoke exploded through her nostrils and she saw Dan laughing. She
composed herself and tried to take the cigarette between outstretched
fingers in a reflex action. She could not reach it and moaned again
with frustration as she carefully inhaled the smoke slowly into her
lungs and realised that she would have to exhale through her nose.
All the men were watching her now, especially Jack and Ben, and she saw
the smug look on Dan's face as he informed them, "Ah, there then, you
didn't think that the bitch would be able to smoke like that, did you?"
he teased.
Jack shook his head as he saw faint wisps of cigarette smoke issue from
Susan's nostrils.
Ben said, "I must admit, our kid, I'm surprised that she seems to have
got the hang of it," He had to agree with Dan that he didn't think that
Susan would have been able to do it.
As if to prove to her men that she was not going to let any of them
down, least of all her husband of the day, Susan breathed in deeply
again, relishing the thick smoke, and exhaled slowly once more, this
time without choking on the ball-gag. She breathed again and the
cigarette smoke filled her lungs. She coughed and spluttered and choked
as her lungs were filled with smoke once more and she tried to catch
her breath. Her eyes were closed and tears ran down her cheeks as she
felt the cigarette removed from the corner of her mouth. She coughed
and spluttered again but was grateful that she could breathe fresh air
once more.
"Ah, Ben you're too bloody soft with her," she heard Dan's mocking
voice inform him as laughter broke out around the table at seeing Susan
coughing and hopping around in her high heels as she tried to keep her
balance. "Pull yourself together and stop making such a bloody
spectacle of yourself!" she heard him order as tears clouded her vision
and she coughed convulsively again. "Stand up straight," he barked,
"and come here!" she heard him shout trying to compose herself.
Susan stood up straight and tippy-toed as fast as she could to stand at
Dan's right shoulder. He smacked her bottom hard and her knees bent as
she felt the pain surge though her already sore bottom.
"Don't you ever fucking show me up like that again!" he warned. "Now
get the table cleared and start doing something fucking useful!" he
ordered.
Susan wanted to say, "Yes, Love, anything to please you, Love, but
please don't smack my bottom again," but she could only think it. She
bobbed her body to acknowledge the order and picked up his empty plate,
carrying it carefully over to the sink.
As Susan collected the dirty plates one by one and placed them in the
sink, she jealously watched her Grandfather and Uncles finish their
coffee and cigarettes.
Susan wished that she was able to have a cup of coffee and enjoy a
cigarette as she felt her tummy rumble with hunger, and hoped that Dan
was pleased with her as she accepted his, to her mind, unnecessary
bondage. It would have been much easier and quicker, she thought, for
her to get breakfast if he had allowed her to be able to use both
hands. She didn't really mind the pain in her feet caused by the
highest heels she'd ever worn, she pondered, getting used to the heels
was all a part of being a very feminine woman, she reasoned with
herself, and she was getting used to the ball-gag as she learned to
relax her mouth so that her jaw didn't ache as much and, she added,
feeling very exposed and vulnerable was satisfying in a strange way,
she realised, but it was such a pain having to do everything with one
hand!
Oh, well, she thought as she eventually cleared the table, I'm Dan's
wife and a wife has to do everything she can to please him, so, she
reasoned, if he wants me trussed up like this, then I must just accept
it if it keeps him happy.
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