Unknown Waifish Model Chapter 3 free porn video

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually explicit stories and situations. (c) 2003 Couture Waifish Model on Page Fifty-three Chapter 3 by Couture email: [email protected] (TG, MM, MC) When we got back home, the honeymoon was over. He even told me so. He had come home from work and by the look in his eyes, he was furious. "Okay little girl," he said, walking toward me, a looped leather belt swinging menacingly from his hand. "The honeymoon is over. And haven't I been good to you? Haven't I explained what a good little wifie should do? How she should act? How she should dress? And now I come home, after a hard day's work and you weren't even waiting at the door for me and where's my dinner?" "I'm sorry Sweetie. I lost track of time and dinner is almost ready." I said, backing away, and then making a run for it as he kept coming. I can see why the Chinese used to bind their women's feet. I could have probably given him a run for his money, but not in heels. He caught me easily, dragged me to the sofa, and gave my ass a beating with the belt. I struggled at first, but he kept whipping me until I hung limply in his lap, gasping for breath, tears rolling down my eyes. "Get your self cleaned up," he said. "You look like shit." I freshened up in the bathroom, and dried my tears. Afterwards, I served him dinner as if nothing in the world had ever happened. We ate and watched TV like a normal couple, then went to bed. The belt on the nightstand caught me eyes. He must have seen my stare. "Yeah, bitch, and there it will stay until you learn to start acting right," he said. "Think of it as a reminder." God he was a monster - a fiend - a black ogre. He pulled the sheet back, displaying his semi-erect cock. "You wanna ride, huh? Does wifie want a good fuck tonight?" "No," I whispered. I looked down at my painted toenails, the memory of my earlier whipping still fresh in my mind. "Too bad," he said. "Oh well, there's other ways you can take care of your husband's needs, so come on up here and perform your wifely duties." I obeyed. Like a robot, I performed the deed exactly as he had instructed weeks ago. I even swallowed his vile seed and cleaned his cock, before putting it back in his shorts. Afterwards, he snuggled up behind me and went to sleep. I was tired and not long in following. *** I hated that belt. It stayed there on the nightstand ... a reminder of what would happen with any little mistake or disobedience. After being whipped every night or two for a solid week, I couldn't sit. It even hurt to stand. There was always something I would mess up. And with the knowledge of what would happen when I did make a mistake, it made me even more likely to do something wrong. I was so careful. Everything was perfect and then ... .and then while I was dusting, I knocked the lamp off the table and broke it. To make matters worse, I cried and my makeup ran. Two whippings. Phil was due home at any moment. What was I going to do? And then it hit me. Maybe I was going about this the wrong way. I was still thinking like a man trapped in a woman's body, but what would a woman do in my situation? Maybe leave? Maybe... I went to the bathroom and wiped the smeared makeup from my face. I hurriedly put it back on. I did a horrible job, but I hoped it wouldn't matter. Then, I put on a pair of stockings, followed by the shortest, tiniest mini-skirt in the closet and the highest heels I could find. I heard his car pull up. Shit, I hadn't even started dinner. I hurried to the front door, looked out the peephole and waited for Phil. When he approached, I opened the door and put on my best June Cleaver act. "Hi honey, how was your day?" I beamed. "It was okay, and yours?" he asked, hugging me. Okay, it was now or never. "I had the most horrible day." I kissed him - even slipped him a little tongue and nibbled his lower lip, doing my best to hide my revulsion. "I was such a clumsy clumsy girl. I broke the lamp and then I started crying..." It was so humiliating. I prayed it would work. As I was talking, I noticed Phil wasn't looking at me, but at the breast peeking out from my unbuttoned shirt. He opened the shirt the rest of the way and casually rolled my nipple between his fingers. Right there with the front door opened behind him. "And then I was late making dinner because I had to fix my makeup." I stamped my foot and pouted. I could feel my nipples responding to his touch. The sensation was so far the only good thing that had happened to me since this all began. "You're not mad, are you?" "Maybe not." Phil said, as he slipped the shirt from my shoulders and then pushed me down to my knees. Shit, old man Gruthers was across the street watching us. Leering at my exposed breasts. "Ah sweetie- old man Gruthers is watching," I hissed. "Let him watch." Phil unzipped his pants and unwound his rapidly swelling cock. God how my ass ached, but I knew I had to do it if I was going to avoid the belt, and then it would ache even more. With one hand, I attempted to preserve my modesty, and with the other I braced myself against Phil's thigh, while I licked the bulbous purple head of his cock. "Do it right," Phil said in a voice that brooked no compromise. "You know how I like it." I knew how he liked it, but I didn't like doing it out there in the open like we were. Not where anyone could walk by and see. I took a quick peak. Mr. Gruthers, the old bastard was fondling his cock through his pants and grinning stupidly. I was forced to bare my small breasts to him when I cupped Phil's balls with my left hand. With my right, I held his cock against his belly, while I licked and sucked him from the bottom of his hairy balls to the tip of his thick black cock. Then, I started sucking him in earnest. I knew well enough how to do it. I had received enough blowjobs in the past and by now, given Phil quite a few myself. I rolled his balls in my palm, jacking his cock in a twisting motion, all the while; I bobbed my head up and down. The bracelets on my wrists jangled as I worked, serving as a loud ringing reminder of what a slut I had become. "Fuck!" Phil gasped. "I'm getting ready to cum slut. Open up." He pulled out and grabbed his cock from my grasp, jerking himself off, while I held my mouth open. I hated it when he did that. It was bad enough when he just came in my mouth. But when he pulled out, it not only ended up in my mouth, but all over my face. And that is exactly what he did. Afterwards, I dutifully cleaned his prick and put it back in his pants. I know Mr. Gruthers got a good look at me with my face covered in semen. I shuddered to think of what must have been going through his bald wrinkled head. I went to wipe my face clean. "No, leave it," Phil said. "I think you look cute like that." Yeah, cute. A cute slut. A cute cum slut. Other than the strange feeling of drying cum on my face, the evening was pretty normal. No spanking or punishment had been given. An outsider would have seen a husband and wife. However, I knew the truth. I had once been a man and turned into Phil's wife. Less of a wife and more of a sex slave to the black bastard. That evening I gave myself an enema before bed. I suspected that we might have sex, and I shuddered as I remembered the last time back in Vegas when I had to clean him afterwards. No, I wouldn't let that happen again if I could help it. After that, I put on some lingerie, and a couple of sprays of perfume. I knew that the belt was still on the nightstand, though he had made no mention of punishment. "Looking good," Phil said from the bed. "That pussy getting lonely?" No, my pussy wasn't lonely. My ass just didn't want to be whipped. And to be honest, I only needed to cum and to hell with the rest of it. But the only way I was allowed release was when he was in me ... in my ass. He was an evil fuck, a bastard beyond compare. I hated him, yet I climbed into bed, gave him his required kiss on the cheek and turned my back to him without a word. He snuggled up behind me. I could feel his hard cock in the valley of my arse. It hardened and soon he was humping against me. My body betrayed me and I soon found myself moving back against him. "That pussy *is* getting lonely, ain't it?" "Yes." I admitted. "Then tell me. Tell me what Chrissie wants." I was glad it was dark so he couldn't see my face. "Chrissie needs your fat cock in her pussy daddy. Chrissie needs a good fucking." "Turn over. I want to fuck you like a dog," he said. "I'm gonna work you hard tonight." It hurt. I wondered if I would ever get used to his huge prick. In Vegas, I was allowed to masturbate, which seemed to take the edge off. This time, he held my hands behind my back while he took me. The lubrication I put in my ass in the bathroom helped at first, but it eventually started burning painfully, making me forget the aching from my earlier whippings. I needed him finish, and finish quickly, so I spread my legs and arched my back. "Give it to me Daddy," I groaned, in hopes of speeding his release. "Ah. Ouch. Fuck me with your fat cock- fill me with your cum. Ugh. Ugh. Drown me in it. Just hurry. Ugh. Ouch." "Do it now," he said, letting go of my arms. "I'm close. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up. Oh God, gonna give it all to you." I didn't need to be told twice. I masturbated as quickly as I was able. I wasn't even allowed to jerk it. I had to rub it beneath my fingers like a woman rubbed her clit. In the end, it didn't matter. I came massively, and with each spasm, my ass clenched against his twitching cock, his cum cooling the irritated lining of my insides. I slipped into sleep easily for the first time since we had been back ... even though I was in the wet spot. *** That's pretty much how it went for the rest of the year. It was tough at times, and while Phil was much nicer and didn't whip me with the belt anymore, he could still warm my bottom and make me cry with his hand. One of the hardest things was that I had no one to talk to during my ordeal. When neighbours came over to visit, Phil ordered me to do humiliating things, like flirt with the men right in front of their wives. And if I didn't do it, didn't make both the men and the women think that I was the biggest slut in the neighbourhood, then Phil would jump in my mind, take control and make me go so far as to place my hand on their cock and give them a squeeze or a stroke. To avoid this fate, I would flirt voluntarily. A wink - a flash of panties - a seductive lick on whatever I was eating, it was usually enough to satisfy Phil. It was also enough to make the men try to get me alone and get into my panties from that moment forward. It was also enough to make me the neighbourhood leper as far as the wives were concerned. The worse part? Even though I slept with no one but Phil, I was the neighbourhood slut. And Phil, the evil bastard, loved every moment of my humiliation. One of his favourite things was for me give him a blowjob while his friends were in the room or to fuck me in the restroom of a crowded restaurant. It was horrible. Really, I don't know how I managed. The only thing that kept me sane was the knowledge that I only had to do it for a year. There was also the fact that even though he controlled my physically, my mind was still my own. A year - all three hundred and sixty five days of it, is a long time, but it finally passed. I was even especially nice yesterday and went out of my way to put Phil in a good mood. The house was spotless and I had even given him as much sex as he could stand. I did it even though he hadn't let me cum in quite sometime. Yes, that was one of the things that had been difficult. At the start, I was allowed to masturbate for a few moments right before he was about to climax. But as time passed, this started to change. At first, he told me that when the sex was especially good, I could cum. Well, I watched porn movies and read articles ... the sex was especially good. As good as I could make it. Yet, still my own release was delayed. First for a few days, then every week or so. I tried harder and harder to please him, yet still he allowed me to cum less and less. It was now a year since this all started and the last time I was allowed to cum was three weeks ago. I was horny, agitated, yet I was thankfully relieved that my ordeal would finally be over. When Phil came home from work, my bags were packed and by the door, and the house was spotless. "You ready to go, huh?" he asked. "Yes, daddy." I wondered if I still had to call him daddy now that it was over- now that I was leaving the evil bastard once and for all. Well, better safe than sorry I decided. "Can you help me take my bags to the car?" "Nope," he said. "Call a cab. I'm done with you." He sat down in his recliner and turned on the TV. I could feel my blood pressure rising. I had been his slave, a virtual prisoner in his house for a year and he didn't even have the decency to give me a ride. Well, fuck him! I called the cab company and they said they would have someone over in ten minutes or so. Still, there was one problem that remained, but I had a good idea on how I could solve it. I went to the refrigerator got out a beer. I was wearing a thin white half T-shirt that was very tight, a likewise small and tight pair of low-cut shorts, and heels. I know, you think that maybe it was my idea, but I assure you it was not. The only clothes I had were what Phil had bought me, and what I was wearing was about as casual and as modest as anything in my closet. Anyway, it made it really easy to carry out my plan. I touched the cold beer bottle to my bare midriff. It didn't take long before my nipples were poking out through my thin cotton T-shirt. I returned to the living room. "I thought you might like a beer," I said, handing it to him. He took the beer and set it on the end table. His eyes roamed up and down my body, especially my chest. "What do you want?" Shit, he was going to make this hard for me. "Look, I was wondering if..." I batted my eyelashes and bit my lip. I was using every trick at my disposal. Phil stood up and pulled me into his embrace, kissing me forcefully. His strong arms wrapped around my body, while his hands groped my rear. I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach. God I was so horny it wasn't even funny. When he broke the kiss, I had to make a special effort to continue. "I was wondering if you would give me a little money for the cab, baby?" "No," he said curtly, as he grabbed my roughly, turned me around, and pushed me against the front window. "But you can earn it." He began to strip me. First my small T-shirt, and then my tight hip-hugging shorts. I kept hold of the front so he could pull them down in the back enough to enter me. "Wait - my..." I was under strict orders never to expose my cock to anyone...and that included Phil. However, with the window in front of me, Phil behind, and shorts too tight to fit my hand inside, there was little I could do. "You better keep it covered, Chrissie" he warned menacingly. "You better keep it covered *real* good." "Yes, daddy." I managed to move my penis to the front of my shorts and hid it behind my hand. It wasn't hard to do because it was embarrassingly small after the hormone treatments and the effects of the ring that kept me from getting an erection. I heard his zipper fall and then the blinds were raised; I was exposed to anyone who cared to look. One final humiliation I had to endure. He spread my cheeks and spit on my rear passage. His stubby finger massaged it in. He took my waist in his hands possessively. I knew what was next. "Oh I'm gonna miss this tight little pussy," he said, and then pushed into me. It hurt a little at first, but I quickly became accustomed to it. A lot had changed in a year's time. He pumped me a few minutes and then ... to my surprise ... he stopped. A five dollar fell from my shoulder to the floor. "I'd say that's about all this is worth." Bastard! He wanted to humiliate me thoroughly. He was going to make me *earn* it. Well, earn it I would, anything to get away from him. I squeezed his prick internally and began to move beneath him. "You want to make me earn it?" I asked. "What do you want me to do? Want me to act like a slut? Your white nympho slut?" I fucked him faster. It was no longer pretend. I was so horny I could scream and palming my cock as I was, the stimulation was the most I had been allowed in a month. "You want to spank me daddy? Huh? Have I been a bad girl?" He spanked my ass hard. I could still feel the sting. "That's it. Spank my ass. Spank it," I moaned. The blows fell faster. "Tell me daddy, how much is this worth?" Several more bills fell to the floor. Then the spanking resumed. I had no clue how money lay at my feet. I only knew that I was getting close. Close to coming. Closer to paying for my cab ride with every moment. "I want more. Give it to me hard. Pinch my nipples. Spank my ass." Shit, my legs were trembling. My toes were tingling. I was getting so close. I closed my eyes and waited for my climax to overtake me. But, before it happened, I felt a tugging at my wrist. My hand was still covering my crotch, but I couldn't stimulate myself. I struggled against it, but it was no use. He was so much stronger. "Not yet," he said. "We need to talk first." "Please," I begged pushing back against him. Phil laughed and motioned out the window. The cab was outside. The driver was thoroughly engrossed in the show. "Where you gonna go Chrissie?" Phil asked. He started moving back and forth slowly inside of me. It was so hard to think. I had it all worked out just minutes ago, but it seemed so cloudy now. Mostly all I could think about was the cock pulsing in my ass. "I'm going to stay with my parents and then try to get my old life back again." "How do you think they are gonna feel when a cutie like you shows up on their doorstep, huh?" Phil's fingers roamed my body, tugged at my nipples, and ran through my hair. "You know, the paper said you stole a bunch of money from work, burned down your house and then fled the country." "I didn't steal anything!" and then I remembered the extra money. He must have stolen it while he had control of my body. It all started falling into place. "I helped you out there," he said. "I wanted a good job done with your surgery and it was more expensive getting it done at the last minute like that." I was so mad I could die. He tricked me! He had strung me out all along, with no intention of letting me go. His grip on my wrist relaxed, I was touching myself again. He moved my hand around in a small circle. "So what you gonna do?" he asked. God, so hard to think. "I don't know." His cock was really plowing me. His pelvis spanked my ass, while his balls slapped against my hand. "Stay here with me," Phil grunted. "Another year. Ugh. Fuck. Same rules." "Please don't," I begged. I was still his- still trapped - not only in this female body, but stuck having homosexual sex for another year. The thought was unbearable. And one thing stuck in my mind. I felt I had to get some sort of compromise. I couldn't let him have his way again. "At least let me cum. Let me cum-ahhh-whenever I want." "You cum when I say." He fucked me even harder. It was starting to hurt, yet it still felt good, so goddamn good. "I'm training you. Ahh! Training you like a bitch. Training you to cum from me fucking you. Just from fucking your tight little pussy. Soon, that's gonna be the only way you can cum. Soon, it will be the only way you *want* to cum." "No!" I groaned. "Yes!" He grabbed me by my hair and pushed me against the windowpane. He pounded me brutally. "I've been training you for so much and you don't even know it. Ha-ha. Training you to get off on getting me off. Training you to get off on showing off that hot little body. Look out the window. That cabbie is watching you right now. Watching you getting fucked and imagining fucking you himself. Training you to get off from turning men on. And you are getting off, aren't you Chrissie? Come on, you love it, admit it." "No." Wearing the clothes I wore and being forced to perform sexual act with Phil while others watched humiliated me to the core. Everyone thought I was a slut, but I wasn't. I had only had sex with Phil. And everyone thought I was some sort of sexy exhibitionist. I wasn't that either. I was forced to wear those tight revealing clothes, my one thought was to make sure my bulge wasn't showing. Everyone thought I was *that* sort of woman, but the thing was, I wasn't any sort of woman. I wasn't even *a* woman. But, dear God, I was the sort of woman that had always turned me on as a man. A woman who would do anything, yet only did it for her man. I was my own fantasy, and yes, Phil was right, it turned me on. Every time I looked in a mirror or saw myself through other's eyes, it made me want to fuck myself. Lord, what was happening to me? I needed a break. I needed time to think. "Admit it," Phil demanded. "Ugh-Oh God, ugh-you're right," I admitted, tears flowed from my eyes. "I know I'm right," he said. "Just look at you. You can't be a man. You never were. Go on. Tell me what you are." He was right. There was no way that anyone could look at me and see me for anything else than... "A woman." "No, not a woman. Not with those tight narrow little hips. Not with those perky little titties. No, bitch. You a girl. You only a girl. Go on, say it." "Ugh-ugh-I'm-a-girl." That's right bitch," he said, kicking my legs further apart. "You my Boo girl. And what am I?" I couldn't say it. Wouldn't. He let my hand go. "Go on. You can play with your clittie this time, but soon, ahh soon you gonna cum from just this alone, my fat cock in your tight little cunt. Oh yeah bitch, I think I'm gonna train you to cum on command. To cum when I say. Any time any place. Go on Boo, diddle it. You know you want to." Oh God, he was right. I wanted to. I needed to. I rubbed my clittie, circling it with my fingers. Oh, I was so close. My ass was on fire. "You'll stay with me for two years," he said, increasing my term. "Same deal." "Please," I begged. "Just let me cum." "You'll do it like I say," he said. "Same deal. You wanna try for three?" I couldn't even imagine what I would be like after two years. I didn't even recognize myself after one. "Okay." I was defeated, the battle had been lost long ago. "I'm gonna cum soon. You better hurry up," he said, stroking me faster, banging me against the window. "Tell me what I want to hear and I'll let you rub it the way you want." "Oh please!" "What's my name?" he said, hammering me so hard, I could hardly keep my balance. "Daddy," I groaned. "That's right bitch," he grunted. "Who's your daddy?" "You are! Oh fuck! You are... " "Fuck I'm gonna nut," he said. "If you're gonna do it bitch, you better do it quick." I didn't need to be told twice. "Wait for me," I begged. "Oh fuck, wait for me." "Ten-nine-eight-seven," he counted down. My hand was a blur. The timber had been dry for so long and it didn't take long for the flame rise up and consume me. When he hit one, in a blaze of passion it happened. "Oh god-oh god," I moaned. I was coming. Oh it was too much. I came like never before. "Oh yeah, just like that. Soon you'll be doing that whenever I say," I remembered Phil saying. After that I blacked out with his cock still pulsing inside of me. When I came to, Phil was untangling his sweaty body from my own. "Here, get dressed," he said, patting me on the ass. I slid the back of my shorts back up and then pulled on my shirt. I was in such a sexual daze, I forgot rule number one. My hand darted forward to cover the small bulge in my shorts. "I'm gonna let it slide this time," Phil said. "But you better damn sure have it tucked back in when you go tell the cabby you don't need him anymore." I darted for the bedroom. "Where are you going?" he said. "I've got to change," I said. There was no way I could go out like this. The thin white shirt clung to my sweaty body like a second skin. My small perky nipples were visible through the now translucent fabric. But the main reason was my shorts. They were now soaked with cum at both my ass and my crotch. "No," he said. "Tuck it and go out there just like that. I want him to know what sort of girl I got." My sexual numbness was fading fast and turning into sheer fright and humiliation. God, would the cabbie recognize the stain in the front or would he assume that I had soiled them due to being 'wet'. I secured my cock between the cheeks of my bottom, doing my best to hide my cock from prying eyes. "Yes, daddy." Phil handed me a ten dollar bill he picked up from the money piled on the floor. "Give him this for his trouble." I nodded my head. My face burned with heat as I made my way to the cab. God, why didn't I just grab the money on the floor and make a run for it? The cabby leered at me the whole way to his car, his eyes fixated on my breasts and crotch. I thought about getting in the car and seeing how far ten dollars would take me. The thought didn't last long. It wouldn't last long and there was no telling what the cabby would do. A year ago, I would have felt confident in protecting myself, but now, now, I felt powerless and scared. I tried hand the cabby the money and thanked him for waiting. "You've tipped me plenty already," he said, and I glanced over and saw the balled up tissues in the passenger seat. Shit, he had masturbated while looking at me in the window! "Glad to see you two make up." He gave me a lecherous grin. Two of his teeth were missing. Hell, even if I got in the car, the thought of what this leering bastard would do to me sent a shiver down my spine. My thoughts of leaving faded even faster. I had hoped he would leave and save me the embarrassment of him seeing the rear of my cum-stained shorts, but instead he waited and watched. I could feel his cold penetrating stare as I turned and walked to the house. Worse, I could feel myself getting turned on by my continued humiliation and exhibition. Two years! I couldn't even remember what David was like anymore. When I thought of myself, I saw the image of the waifish model from page fifty-three from April's Vogue magazine, not the young virile man I used to be. More and more my fantasies weren't of women, but of men. Black men. Of Phil. Of a cabby watching my ass swish as I fled quickly back to my house in cum-stained shorts. Phil said he was training me! Training me to cum like a woman and exposing me like this was part of his training too. Who knew what else his perverted devious mind had in store. Oh God, what had I become in only one year? What would I be in two? I rubbed my thighs together, practically strutting back to the house like some sort of street whore. David? David was lost that day, and only Chrissie remained. Even as I walked back in the house, I knew Phil would be waiting, ready to continue with his sick sordid plan. Two years. Just a year ago, I had been a man with an attractive female lover. I had a successful job. Then Phil took control of my mind and made me do things ... perverted thing I had never imagined. Now, I had no job and I was the attractive female lover. Christ, I even turned myself on when I looked in the mirror. I was going to have to have iron will and determination, just to remain Chrissie and not be turned into the slutty sex starved exhibitionist Phil had in mind. And the worst part, he wasn't even going into my mind and forcing me ...now I was a willing, albeit reluctant participant. God, my mind that I thought was safe, was slowly but surely changing, changing the way Phil wanted it. Phil moved into the doorway, a collar and leash in one hand, a blindfold in the other. My stomach leapt in fright. I looked back for the cab, my one chance to escape, and it was pulling away. I wondered if old man Gruthers was watching from across the street. A collar, a leash and a blindfold. Training me? Oh God, what did he have in mind? I could feel my face warming; my nipples hardening; my trapped cock struggling against the band of steel that encircled it. My mind, my mind faltered against the cage that Phil was building around it. Two years was going to be a very long time. The end *** If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.