Sissy Serving Girl Scene 2 free porn video

SISSY SERVING GIRL SCENE 2 by Throne My head was still spinning from the announcement which Owner had made so casually the day before. My wife Denise was coming to see me today. Maybe to release me from my new life as a sissy slave to the man I was living with. I decided to dress extra pretty to show my spouse how cooperative and well behaved I was being. Maybe she would take that as a sign that I was willing to do whatever she said once I returned home. If she would take me back. It was my most fervent hope that I could be allowed to resume dressing and acting like a man. To not have to serve Owner in those special ways that he so often required me to at night. And in the afternoon. And often first thing in the morning. As I began to select an outfit I thought again about that large tube of lubricant that Owner had made me fetch and give him, which he had placed so openly on his nightstand. Did it mean that, if my wife didn't take me back, the rapacious man was ready to make me even more of a sissy? Would my staying here lead to him depriving me of my most important vestige of masculinity, my rear virginity? Just the thought of that happening made me tremble. If it occurred, how could I ever feel like my old self again? As I laid out what I intended to wear, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe I shouldn't make myself too attractive to male eyes. That might cause Owner to want me to stay, and I didn't know how much influence he had in the decision to be made. But if I obviously tried to make myself less appealing, that could anger him and he might want to keep me just so he could pay me back for trying to manipulate the situation. What should I do? Denise was still legally my wife. She should have the final say. So I stuck with the initial idea, to try to impress her with my willingness to submit. Except, of course, I could end up making myself seem so weak and girly that she could reject me for that. It was all so confusing. Doing my best to put any troubling thoughts out of my mind, I finished making my choices and stripped out of what I had on. Standing there naked, I was very aware of my svelte figure, hairless body, and the small genitals that had done so much to make my wife reject me. I sighed and began dressing. First came lacy panties, bikini cut, with a narrow gusset and even less in the rear. I carefully tucked my privates down and back, easily concealing them. Then I put on shiny stockings and smoothed them over my satiny legs. Next I picked up a piece of clothing that I had never seen in my closet before. It was a sleeveless mini-dress. That might have been nice, to cover me more than I was used to. Except that there was something special about this article of clothing. It was made of some sort of thin plastic-type material and was totally transparent. The big buttons down the front, wide decorative belt, and even the pleats in the short skirt were all just drawn lines printed on in black. I pulled it down over my head and wriggled into it. Everything was tailored and fit quite well. Except -- again -- it was completely see-through. I didn't take it off. For make-up I did a quick but competent job. Lots on the eyes, well blended shadows to bring out my cheekbones, and plenty of liner and candy- apple lipstick to create the illusion that my mouth was bigger than in reality. I hesitated before deciding to add lip gloss to draw even more attention to my lower face. A quick brushing and spraying of my longish hair added body to it. I went to the mirror mounted in the hall, feeling exposed, the way Owner preferred. Because my life in his home didn't involve any real exertion, I had lost most of the limited muscle tone I began with. And I had acquired the habit of standing and moving in feminine ways. I puckered my lips and blinked my eyes. My tucked, undersized privates made no bump in the snug panties. Plus, that see-through dress left me so humiliatingly exposed. I shook my head resignedly. If my wish was granted, Denise would feel pity for my plight and take me home. Of course, her lack of pity was part of what got me here in the first place. I wrung my small hands and hoped urgently that her stance had softened in the meantime. I fussed with the front of the shameless dress and went to my shoe rack, selected an appropriate pair of heels, pink ones with three inch stilettoes. As I stepped into them I was aware of how adept I had become at wearing and walking in that type of footwear. I started toward the living room and Owner, whose approval I anxiously wanted. When I got there he was sitting on the sofa with a mixed drink in his hand. He patted a spot next to him. I sat gingerly and, still wanting his good will to facilitate my escape, pressed my barely covered hip against his fully clothed one. He put his hand on my knee and slid it under the high hem of the dress. I could see his fingers through the clear material. They went to the front of my brief panties and felt for my concealed male parts. He dipped his hand down to tickle me where they were hidden and I forced myself to smile at him. The last thing I wanted was to have Owner displeased with me. I might need his cooperation in allowing Denise to take me away. He gave my three-piece set a gentle squeeze, setting off an involuntary arousal response. My puny dick got halfway hard but stayed snugly tucked. He ran his hand all the way back down to my knee before breaking contact. I was still unnerved by the way I had started becoming aroused from being handled by males. It began only the day before and was still happening. Moments later, with him unhurriedly sipping his drink and me growing increasingly tense, the doorbell rang. He nodded at me to go and answer it. I rose, went to the entrance, and took hold of the knob. Biting my lips -- and then stopping abruptly to preserve my lipstick and gloss -- I opened the door and was confronted by my bride, wearing a smart skirt-suit and carrying a briefcase. She gave me a lingering look that made my cheeks grow warm with shame. Then she brushed past me. Owner got up and they shook hands before exchanging air kisses. She sat next to him and set her case on the other side to open it. I came closer but not so near that they might think I was trying to see the papers she had brought with her. They chatted for a few minutes about the business world and money markets before she took the top several pages from the pile she had. "Cookie," she said, finally addressing me. "Kneel down over here so you can sign a few documents." I went wordlessly and took the position requested. My wife handed me a pen, laid something official looking in front of me, on the coffee table, and pointed to where I should write my name. Pausing for only a second, I signed where indicated. She turned that one over, pointed to the next one, and a second space waiting for my signature halfway down the page, as well as two spots closer to the bottom where I was to add my initials. I meekly did as I was told. It was encouraging to be able to write my male name. More of the same followed, until she had everything she wanted. At last she slipped all the papers inside, then closed and locked the case. To Owner she said, "That takes care of those little matters we discussed. I'll have somebody sign later to say that they witnessed it. Thanks for letting me know Cookie was far enough along to get this done." He gave her an agreeable smile and said, "Did you want to tell my simpleminded sissy what she just agreed to?" "Oh." She shrugged and looked at me. "Do you have any questions, girly girl?" Still on my knees and feeling powerless, I said in a hushed voice, "Well, I was just wondering if any of that had to do with you taking me home." "Why would I need you to sign for that? Can't I just take you home any time I please? Aren't you still my husband? Couldn't we walk out of here right now, and go straight home? Wouldn't you like to see your old wardrobe and get into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt?" "Oh, yes," I said breathily. "That would be divine. Thank you so much." "Thank me for what? I was just asking if you'd like all that. I didn't say it was going to happen." "But you mentioned... I mean... that we're still man and wife." "And we are. Those divorce papers you just authorized won't go into effect until I add my name, get someone to pretend they witnessed everything, and have my lawyer file them. Oh, and he's representing both of us. I figured you couldn't afford your own representation, or at least you won't be able to once I file those other papers, the ones that put all your assets into my name as part of the settlement. But don't worry. You're getting that business advisory company I set up for tax write-offs. It will be all yours." "All mine? It only exists on paper. There are no clients or offices or employees. It's worthless." "Don't say that, Cookie dearest. It'll worth plenty once you put a lot of money into it and build it up." "Didn't you just say that I won't have any money?" She put the tip of her index finger to her pretty chin. "Yeah, that's true. Being broke could kind of slow you down. But I'm sure Owner will take lovely care of you." "You mean... you're not... taking me with you?" "Why would I want to do that? What use do I have for a simpering sissy with a teeny wienie? I already have a new man in my life, one with impressive male equipment, plenty of stamina in bed, and a small fortune. We have fantastic sex together. Often. I'm sure Owner will continue to enjoy your company and even find some new uses for you." She looked at him. "Isn't that right?" "Well, now that I know you won't be stealing away my plaything, I can take the big step. Didn't want to get too involved with Little Miss Pretty in Pink if I was going to lose her. But from now on, anything goes." I felt cold inside. This wasn't possible. Denise couldn't leave me here. And take all our money and property. While spending her nights with some man who was my superior in so many ways. Making a last ditch effort I said, in a wispy pleading voice, "But I'm not really like this, dear. I don't want to be a sissy. I want to come home with you and go back to the way it used to be." "Back to disappointing sex for me? And your general ineffectualness? I don't think so. I know you're not naturally a sissy. That's what makes it so funny to leave you with Owner. You can think of me with my mouth all over my new man's cock while you've got yours all over Owner's." She chuckled. "And I'll be thinking about how you hate every second of having to play the willing wimpy faggot. Especially dressed like that, See- Through Sally." If I hadn't been kneeling I might have collapsed. As it was I still had to lean on the sofa to steady myself. Denise patted me on the head. She told Owner, "I'd love to stay for a visit, but I really have to get back to my handsome hunk of a bed partner. And I'm sure you two have something important to do." "We certainly do," Owner agreed. "Time to break MY bed partner in the rest of the way. Thanks SO much for giving him to me." "No, thank YOU for taking him off my hands. This way, with him under your thumb, I won't have to worry about the twerp making any foolish attempts to reverse any of the agreements he's just signed." They both laughed, stood and shared a warm hug, and then I had to watch my wife stroll out of my life. Once she was gone, Owner put himself very close to me and leered down at my worried face. "You know," he said cheerily, "nothing gets me more excited than taking advantage of a straight guy. And turning him into a groveling sissy. And teaching him all sorts of dirty tricks to perform for me... and a few of my selected friends. Like Josh. You remember him." "The big Black man," I said, barely audible. "Correct. And when you were perched on his lap, I'll bet you could feel where he's the biggest, if you know what I mean. Right?' "Yes." "But I get first crack at you. First crack at your butt crack, you might say." He reached down to me. "Ups-a-daisy." I took his large hand and he easily helped me to stand. "There's my girl." Still holding on, he led me toward the bedroom. I went on numb legs. All the shocks that I had gotten in such rapid succession were piling up in my mind, until I had to concede to myself that Owner absolutely did own me. Without him I was destitute. Now more than ever I had to please him in every way possible. As we entered the bedroom I rubbed one finger against his broad palm in a sign of acquiescence, perhaps even of seduction, though the latter was hardly necessary. If there was any doubt of that, it was removed as Owner pressed his partly engorged cock against my belly. He ordered me to get out of everything except my shiny stockings. Then I stooped and began to remove his pants. Soon I had him naked. He glanced at the nightstand. Knowing what he wanted, I took the tube of lubricant and uncapped it. There was suddenly a strong scent of strawberries in the air. He said, "I thought it would be cute for you to have a signature fragrance for moments like this. That's why I got several of those big tubes of the stuff. Now how about if you get me all slicked up. I wouldn't want to hurt you... too much." I squeezed a generous blob of the cool substance onto my fingertips, rubbed both hands together to warm it, and began to rub it all over his massive organ, feeling him grow under my ministrations. All too soon he was fully erect, his rampant tool a threatening length and thickness. Because it was our first time for 'going all the way', I wasn't sure where he wanted me next. Seeing the question in my eyes, he advised, "Just relax and lie on the bed on your back, Cookie. I'll be doing all the hard work." "On... my back?" I couldn't visualize exactly how he planned to proceed. "That's right, sweetness. And right now would be a good time. I honestly don't want to delay this any more." I laid back and, seeing him still waiting for something else, wriggled along the mattress toward the headboard. He smiled approvingly and got on the foot of the bed on his knees, quickly closing the distance between us. Seconds later he was between my slender legs and gripping my ankles. He raised them and rested them on his muscular shoulders. Owner ran his hands up and down my legs, appreciating the feel of their thin covering. I could smell his manly musk. Then I could feel the head of his rampant cock pressing between my smooth buttocks. He centered it on his target. "You'll be glad you used plenty of lube, Strawberry Girl." He gave a slight push, to emphasize his point. I gasped and clenched involuntarily back there. He let me a brief moment to get over my initial reaction but was soon back to pressing against my tightness. "Breath slowly, Cookie. Time for me to deflower you. You know how big I am. A real jawbreaker. So it's going to take an awful lot of stretching for you to accommodate me. But no matter what, it's going to happen. Say goodbye to your virginity." Owner gave a slow but unrelenting push, cramming the entire head inside me. I moaned loudly and then settled into whimpering with discomfort and fear. He eased the next two inches in and then two more. I was grateful his tool was so slippery. What I felt was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. He was widening me, yet not rushing. More and more of his shaft entered me until I was startled when his heavy balls touched my bottom. For a suspended moment he just stayed there, as if we were in stopped time between the seconds on a clock. I took a shuddering breath. I was so aware of the way my body was folded over and how controlled that made me feel. He exhaled through his nostrils. With easy assuredness, Owner began to pump. He asked, "How do you like it, Cookie? How are you enjoying having my long fat cock all the way inside you? Hmmm? Answer me." I gasped as he set a steady rhythm, using long strokes. "It feels... strange. It hurts, sort of. But you're touching all sorts of nerve endings and... and..." "Part of you likes it. On a purely physical level. But you don't want to be a sissy. Like you told you wife. You're still a married man. Being used in the most intimate way possible by another man. And you hate what that means. Let's see if we can't get you to where you love how it feels, even crave it, at the same time still being upset by what I'm turning you into. Just thinking about that makes me want to shoot my load into you. But I'm not going to rush it. I'm going to make this last a good long time. And with every second that passes, you'll be turned more and more into a squirming, pansy faggot. Won't that be fun?" "Noooo," I protested weakly. "Please. Don't make me..." (gasp) "... become like that..." (pant, pant) "... and get me..." (whimper) "... hooked on cock." "Oh, I'm going to turn you into a real size-queen, Cookie. You'll be begging for another one as big as mine. Or bigger. Soon you'll be imploring me to invite my friend Josh over to try you on for tightness. He likes a snug fitting sissy. And he can last a long while, like I do. Won't that be thrilling for you? To have two big men who want to plow you? Or maybe one of us can take you from behind while you deep throat the other. But there's no hurry. We'll have plenty of opportunities to try out any combinations we like. After all, you're going to be living here from now on. And trying your best to keep me as happy as possible. Along with anybody else I give you to. I'm sure you wouldn't want to earn yourself any nasty punishments." As if to punctuate that last thought he took several hard, fast strokes, making me cry out from surprise and pain. At the same time, however, I began breathing faster from something else. He pulled most of the way out and reached down between us and gave my penis a quick fondle, discovering that it was hard. I was mortified by my erection. Owner massaged my balls, which made me purr from stimulation. He sunk himself back in and then varied his methods to deliver a mix of pleasure and pain. Of course he did. That was part of his process. The entire time, my shame rose and fell as it was countered by how expertly he made me feel arousal, which I told myself I didn't want. Then I realized I was pushing my hips toward him to meet his thrusts. We fell into matched tempos, with me making wordless pleas that could have been for him to stop... or keep going. I was sniffling and blinking, my mind swirling with confusion. At one point he laughed out loud. He stared into my eyes. Rubbed his cheek against my calf. But never stopped his pile driver assault on my defenselessness. "What's the matter, Cookie?" he wanted to know. "Are you enjoying his way too much? Hmmm? Do you think you might even... finish? Wouldn't that be embarrassing? After all your protests about being straight, suddenly -- oops -- you empty your balls while I'm jamming you. Maybe we'll cum together." With my legs still held in their elevated position, he reached one hand down to finger my nipples, saying, "Maybe what you need to make you squirt is just a little more stimulation. Is this doing it for you, Cookie? Are your nipples sensitive like a real girl's? Why are you trying to stifle those squealing sounds? Let's do it, Cookie. Let's... climax... together." He growled and thrust himself all the way into me again. His body tensed and his face became a frozen mask. I knew he was spurting his semen into me. Then he gave several short jabs of his cock. It was all too much. I let out a long moan, gasped, and felt my warm spunk shoot onto my tummy. In that bent backward posture, there was no way to avoid getting it on myself. I sobbed and just let everything happen. It felt wonderful but, as soon as I passed my peak, that was followed by waves of fresh shame. He really was turning me into a reluctant sex addict. ********* The next morning I hurried to the kitchen to wash up some dishes. From the living room I dimly heard Owner talking on the phone. I was still at the sink, wearing nothing but a ruffled apron, with only light make-up on, when he came up from behind. Owner pressed himself against me and nuzzled my neck. It was unsettlingly reminiscent of the previous night. I squirmed, which had the unintended result of making my bottom rub up against him. He chortled and said, "Ready for more already? You really are turning into a total slut, Cookie. Aren't you?" Fearful of displeasing him but also not wanted to agree, I said, "Maybe. I'm not sure." The big man reached around to slip his hands under the top of the apron and massage my smooth hairless chest. "Well, there's no hurry. You'll have plenty of time -- and opportunities -- to get to know the new you." He went to the table and sat, asking for a glass of orange juice and a slice of whole wheat toast, unbuttered. As I got everything for him, I could feel his hungry eyes on me. I knew he had to be out for a while that morning and I had even fleetingly entertained the thought of trying to escape. But I didn't have a single piece of male clothing. No money, credit cards, or even any ID. I was effectively his prisoner. And I knew my wife would be proceeding with our divorce and taking control of every asset. I visualized her with her new lover and it made me feel more helpless than ever, like the lifeline to my past existence had been cut. As I served Owner his juice and toast he casually caressed my bare leg. Having no choice, I stood there and let him. His hand roamed higher to knead my soft bottom. I purred and, without intending to, gave my hips a wiggle. He patted my bare rump and told me to go and put on what he had picked for me, that was on the sofa. When I saw it I exclaimed, "Oh no." Owner had selected a pink onesie. With feet. And a hood. All made out of thin but sturdy rubber. I stood there staring at it, with its long front zipper, in dismay. Just getting it on looked like it would take lots of effort. It was draped over the back of the sofa and when I picked it up I found a can of talcum powder under it. That was considerate of him, I thought as I held up the garment and saw that it would be a close fit. Some single-piece fashions like that are meant to be loose and comfortable; this one was plainly going to be tight, would restrict movement, and was sure to make me hot. I took it to the bathroom and carefully sprinkled some powder into the leg holes, along the back and inside the sleeves. Then I sat on the edge of the tub and worked my feet cautiously down the legs until they reached the spaces provided for them. Next I stood up and eased my hands through the armholes, inching them along until they came out the ends of the sleeves. I raised the hood and then pulled up the zipper until it was under my chin. After I raised the hood, plastic clung to my head and framed my face. A small amount of talcum powder had gotten on the tile floor. There was a basket of cleaning supplies in the built-in cabinet under the sink. As I bent to get a sponge, the rubber pulled up between my legs and buttocks. When I extended my arm the material didn't stretch. Getting down to my knees to clean gave me further reminders of how confining the outfit was. I did a quick wipe-up and then hurried to my mirror, the one mounted outside my bedroom door in the hallway, to get a better view of myself. As soon as I saw how I looked, my worst fears were confirmed. The way the material hugged every contour, I was a walking invitation to fondling. Because the stuff didn't breath, my natural body temperature was already making me perspire. I saw myself blink back tears as my lower lip quivered. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Owner approaching, wearing a wide grin. "Perfect," he said. Reaching me, he ran his large hands down my back and over my bottom, along my chest and to my crotch, where they lingered, checking to see how my privates felt through the rubber. "Don't you just love wearing this?" "I don't think so. It's making me sweat." "Well, there's a simple solution to that. Let's go to the kitchen." When we got there he took the water-filter pitcher out of the fridge and poured a tall glass. As he offered it to me I realized the problem drinking it could cause. Even so, under his watchful gaze, I raised the glass and began gulping down the generous amount of liquid. Once it reached my bladder, I would be in trouble, having to remove the entire onesie to relieve myself. As if reading my thoughts, he said, "And if you need to make tinkles, Cookie..." Owner paused, an amused look on his face. "... you'll just have to wait." He took the glass from me and filled it again. "The important thing is not to let you get dehydrated." "Yes, Sir," I meekly agreed. "And before I go, let me tell you about a game that Josh and I have decided to play with you." He watched as I took another long sip of water. "I know you're reluctant to have him take you from behind. And I can't say I blame you. Not only is he bigger than me where it counts -- only about an inch longer but a real champ in the girth department -- but being used like that by a second man, well, it moves you further into sissy territory. I mean, once you've had two of us, you'll start to feel tawdry, don't you think?" "I would, Sir." "So here's how you can avoid that. It will be up to you to make Josh happy, by any means you can. But you have to start out slow and then work up to more elaborate tricks. So long as you can keep him smiling that way, he's not allowed to bang your bunghole. And yes, in case you're wondering, Josh won't lie about it just so he can split your ass." "Uh... tricks?" I queried. "Sure. Sort of like you're a girlfriend trying to preserve your virginity. I mean, pretending that, since I already popped your cherry. But if you were a girl and didn't want your boyfriend to stick it in you, you could start out with hand jobs. And then, when he got restless for more, maybe suck him off. After that, something like the position I had you in last night, but with his big cock between those silky thighs of yours. Of course, that would make Josh shoot all over you, but that big bastard likes to see a sissy covered with his cream. In fact, keep that in mind. Any time you want to get him overheated, so it's easier to finish him, think of something that ends with you spattered with white sauce. You know. Like a pearl necklace. Or a facial. Or having him fire his load at your boy parts and make a mess of your tiny dick and balls. And if you really want to make him grin, afterwards you can scoop his goo up with your fingers and then lick them clean, while you ooh and ahh over the taste. I know..." Owner held up his hand as if to stop something he assumed I was about to say. "It's true. He gets off on awfully strange things." He leaned in to confide, "Some people are really twisted. And remember, you'll have to be careful, while you're thinking up new ways to keep him off your tail, not to start getting kinky yourself about all the ways you'll be delaying him." "I... I..." My head was whirling. "I mean, how long will I have to... err... postpone him from... penetrating me... before the game is over?" "No, no," Owner said, waving away my question. "What fun would it be if you knew that? We have to have some suspense. I'll know and so will he. But you'll like it more if we leave that a mystery. Don't you think so?" Sweating inside the rubber suit, so restricted, with the problem of having to urinate later on my mind, my sense of helplessness rose to new heights. Barely audible, I answered, "That will make it more... interesting." "I knew you'd agree." He stroked my shoulders while he consumed me with his eyes. "And of course, any of the methods you use on him that sound good to me -- let's say ass worship, for instance -- we can try ourselves when he's not here. Or while he is here. I could watch you with him and he could enjoy seeing you when you're with me. One big happy threesome. Two tops and a single bottom." He paused, so I felt obligated to say, "Yes, Sir. Whatever you say." "Exactly. But what I have to say now is that it's just about time for me to go. So let's go to the living room and see what I left you on the end table." We went there and I found a pair of pink metal handcuffs waiting for me. When he held out his hand I gave them to him. He had me turn my back so he could snap them onto my slim wrists. I stammered out, "Th... thank you?" "Oh, you're welcome. I didn't want you to be tempted to unzip yourself. If I caught you doing that, it would cost you some nasty punishment. Hey, there's an idea. You can think up some disciplines. How about a dozen ways I could chastise you? And write them all down. I mean, when you're not cuffed." He chuckled and toyed with my nipples through the rubber. The sensations were muted but still sent a tingle to my penis, which tried to stiffen but was mostly frustrated by its confinement. In my most girly voice, all shy and half-flirting, I breathily told him, "That's a good idea, Sir. I'm sure I'll think of some effective ways for you to... deal with me." "I'm sure you will," he agreed. "And if they're not effective enough, you'll earn some extra hard fanny swatting for holding back. So make them extreme enough, if you want to save yourself from a very sore sitter." That put me in a nasty bind. If I made my list too safe, it would earn me a red bottom. If I made it harsh, I would be putting myself in line for worse suffering. There was a comparatively safe zone in the middle, but did I want to risk going there? It would be less dangerous, in a way, to come up with discipline that was more unforgiving rather than less. His plan was highly unfair, but he'd used the same trick before, like when having me choose what to wear, so I knew better than to point it out. Instead, I gave him the best smile I could muster and said, "I'll get right to work on that, Sir. That is, when my hands are free." "Good girl," he congratulated. "Now that your wife is done with you, we can really let loose around here. But right now I'll help you get started with your cleaning. I'm always happy to give you a hand, Cookie." I followed him across the room, aware of his superior height and strength, which made me feel like a weak girl in his presence. From a cabinet he took a feather duster, the handle of which was a dildo. There were straps attached to the perverse device. He put the rubber cock deep into my mouth and fastened the harness around my head. Owner had me give it a few sucks, which he said would help to keep me calm if anything bothered me. "Not that I think anything will disturb you while you're dusting this entire spacious room, and getting every single spot. But your wife said she might call just to say hello to you. So I have the landline on speaker. You'll be able to hear every word." He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "And I warned her not to call you while she was having some afternoon delight with her new lover. I mean, that definitely would give you stress. Having to listen to her go into detail about what they were doing and hearing her gasping and moaning and raving about how huge his cock is, how long he can last, and generally how much better he is than a sissy like you. Gee, I sure hope she doesn't misunderstand and do exactly what I told her not to." He shrugged. "Oh well, if that happens, just give that fake cock in your mouth more attention. You can think about me while you do that. Me and Josh." He chucked me under the chin. "Our life together is going to me so much fun, Cookie. Hmmm?" Unable to speak, I could only nod like a dutiful little housewife, making the feather duster bob up and down, and the rubber dong bump the back of my throat. Owner gave me a broad wink, turned, and went happily away to conduct whatever business he had to take care of. I stood there in my tight, hot rubber outfit, hands cuffed behind my back, mouth stuffed full of artificial cock, thoughts of all he had just told me filling my mind. I began to dust, starting high and working my way down. The way Owner liked it done, my job would take hours. In that restrictive outfit, every minute would be torment. I thought again about those two big glasses of water he had fed me. A half hour later the phone rang. It was my wife, Denise. ********* (Usually I don't do continuations once I indicate that a story is finished. There are often requests for more and I understand those. I too want to see some of what I read get added onto. But this time there were so many readers asking for more, and everyone was so nice (and understanding about if it didn't happen) that I just had to add a Part Two. And even though I concluded this one with a bit of a cliffhanger, it really is intended to be the final end. THANKS.)