The Vanity
- 4 years ago
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Note Found On Your Wife's Vanity free porn video
Note: the author encourages unauthorised reposting, sequels, and blatant
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NOTE FOUND ON YOUR WIFE'S VANITY
Hank, I can't do this any more. I love you, but you're not the man I
married.
Everything I did, I did for you. But now I realised you didn't give a
shit about me at all, you cheating ass.
So from today, we're going to start again. We're going to finally start a
family, with three kids, a cat and a dog. And you're going to be utterly
faithful to me as my little wife.
There. We're swapping bodies. I'm going to be Hank the Pro Football
Quarterback, and you can be Christina, the cheerleader who had to retire
at 25.
Think I'm kidding? Try to look away from this note...you can't, can you?
W showed me how. See how the note stays in front of your face even when
you move, so you can't see anything but the note and your thumb?
Say, what's going on with your thumb? Yeah. Looks smaller than you
remember, huh? And the nail, see how it looks plasticky and glossy and
sparkly red? Those are fake nails. The sort you said you liked. The sort
I've been wearing since our second date when you said it.
These are really inconvenient. And really sharp too. Be careful when you
wipe after you go to the bathroom. Speaking of -- reach down with your
other hand, will you, and cup your balls.
Ah, those big brass balls, thinking you could sleep with my former
teammate without me knowing. Trixie will get her comeuppance, but right
now I want you to feel those bad boys shrink and get lighter, and the
skin start to pull up inside you.
Yep, your big, proud erection too. Feel how it get so limp and soft,
slimy almost, so tender -- ooh, watch the nails -- and where it is. No more
little Hank. Welcome to womanhood.
That's called a clitoris. Now you know where to find it.
Feel that rumbling? Those are your insides rearranging. You're now the
proud owner of a pair of ovaries and a uterus, all ready to get pregnant.
Those bones cracking are your pelvis. You're getting the booty you always
admired, and those child-bearing hips.
We're finally going to start that family, Hank, and your body is going to
be perfect for having babies. At least three.
Speaking of babies, feel that in your chest? Go ahead, grab those
nipples. (Watch the nails!) Ooh, tingly, huh? See how bad it feels when
you just pinch em and grab em roughly? See how much better when they're
gently caressed and touched, not squished like toys? Yep, you're now the
proud owner of a pair of perky B-cups.
But -- you'll love this -- that wasn't enough for you, were they? Nope.
Kept hinting and insisting, and I finally paid for them myself. Well,
turnabout's a bitch, Hank. Time for your implants. Time for you to feel
what it's like to carry around silicone in your tits, for everyone to
gawk, for people to gossip behind your back. Fake tits. Plastic.
Pornstar.
By the way, since you're obsessed with breast sizes: 34DDD. Like your
favourite pornstar. I know about that too, but I don't care.
None of my bras will fit you, by the way, your implants are a cup size
bigger than mine. But that's okay. You'll just have to deal with everyone
gawping at your cleavage in the supermarket, or when you hear men talking
about your tits like you're not a person, or when the camera cuts to us
during post-game interviews.
Oh, yeah, this is the best part. I'm going to be Hank. I'm going to train
twice as hard as you -- not difficult, you lazy ass -- and I'm going to win
plenty of games. I'm going to start a business after. I'm going to be
successful.
And guess who's going to be the little lady, the homemaker, the sweet
pregnant wife behind my back?
That's right. You. You, Christina, the little cheerleader who slept with
a player and got retired. You, Christina, who dropped out of college to
get married. You're the one with no degrees, no skills, a pretty face,
tight body and implants.
I know you're thinking of divorce. Remember the pre-nup you made me sign?
The one that made sure I wouldn't get a single cent from our marriage? I
signed it anyway because I love you.
But you're happy to divorce me if you like. It's probably okay for you, a
hot blonde, to end up penniless on the street. I guess you'll just have
to figure out a way to make money with your porn-star body. Why not call
your ex-teammates and offer to sleep with them?
Oh yeah, one more thing. Take a deep breath now. think about all that
body hair on you. You're about to feel what it's like to have all the
hair on your body waxed off, all at once.
Ready?
...
Hurts, doesn't it. Especially the legs. And between them. That's what I
did for you. Every three weeks. Can't shave, because then it messed up
the waxing. No lasers, because you liked the thought of some lady waxing
me every three weeks.
Now it's going to be you. Every three weeks, getting your pussy waxed for
my pleasure, your legs waxed. Going to salons for a fresh haircut. An
hour of moisturiser, lotions and masks every morning and night. Counting
calories and eating only 1800 hundred calories a day. Pilates and squats
for nice legs and a round ass. Weights to keep the breasts from sagging.
And yoga to stay flexible so you can bend over and suck me off in the
car.
I did this. I did all of this for you. And from now on, you're going to
do this for me. You're going to be my bitch. I'm going to fuck you in
every room of the house. I'm going to fuck you in Business Class when we
fly to games. I'm going to fuck you in every room of our house. And I'm
going to bring you to the locker room and fuck you on the bench, in front
of your old teammates, just like you fucked Trixie.
You're going to look around, the old familiar digs and lockers and
benches. All the men you intimidated, bullied, and cowed. You're going to
look at all of them and realise their disgust at you, how much they hated
you, and all their contempt at your petty displays of dominance.
But you're going to envy them so much. You're going to miss being strong,
tall, male, powerful. You're going to have to get help reaching for
things on shelves and opening jars. Your tits are going to get in the way
of everything, and those fucking nails, and the long hair, and the
fucking horrible heels you make me wear.
And you're going to be so turned on by men. From now until the end of
time, you're going to have fantasies. So many fantasies. Being taken from
behind, being forced to choke down a cock, being spanked, being groped.
You gave Kevin all that shit for marrying a man. Well, guess who's the
one who can't stop thinking about cocks now?
Oh, you're going to be a wildcat in bed. You'll hate it, inside, I know
you'll think it's degrading. But you won't be able to help yourself ...
especially around me.
But you're going to be fine. You'll see. You'll be pregnant within the
year. And three months after delivery, you'll be pregnant again. Hell,
I'm going to fuck you even with a round tummy. You'll give me the family
you never wanted. We're going to settle down (lucky you, you'll be a
MILF) and you're going to be devoted to me and my children for the rest
of your life.
Finally we'll be a couple in love.
Won't that be nice, Christina?
Now, I want you to put on that god awful, trashy lingerie you bought me
for our "anniversary". I want you to spend an hour at the vanity making
yourself look hot, like the dirty whores you used to bring to your hotel
rooms. I want you to get in bed and get warm and wet for me. And when I
open the door and walk in, I want you to drop to your knees and suck me
off.
First load goes in your eyes and on your tits. Then we'll have dinner --
oh, better get started on that -- and then doggy style, facing the mirror,
so you'll get to watch as I fuck you like an animal.
You're going to be my bitch.
Oh yeah. Your nipples are going to get hard a lot. You're going to ruin a
ton
Now put down the note, and get ready for the rest of our married life...
---
This is my homage to Wyrdey's Note Found in the Cheerleader's Locker
Room, still my favourite tale by miles.
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