Chrissie The Saga of a Lovestruck Sissy Maid
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Chrissie Part 36 free porn video
"Chrissie" Part XXXVI
by c.w. cobblestone
My pity party was interrupted by the rattling of the front door, followed
by a startled feminine gasp.
Rebecca crept into view, her hand covering her mouth. "OMG, Chrissie,
what the hell happened?"
Through tears, I peered at her from my curled-up position on the living
room floor, right where Karl and Randy had left me. A low moan escaped my
throat.
My angel pouted. "Aw, poor thing. They really did a number on you, huh?"
I sobbed harder.
"I'm sorry, baba. If I'd have known Randy was gonna come over, I wouldn't
have had you get all dolled up like that. But you can't blame him for
wanting you, Chrissie -- you did look pretty hot. They both wanted you,
apparently."
"I ... he ... they ..." I was too choked up to continue.
Rebecca clucked her tongue. "I guess we can say goodbye to that negligee
-- it's tore all to hell. I bet Randy did that; Ma says he's a wild man in
bed." She grimaced. "She says he's hung like a horse, too, so I feel for
ya, baba. Karl's bad enough. Your poor butt must really hurt."
More tears flowed as convulsions overtook me.
"I would've stayed here and helped you get through it, baba, but not with
my stepdad. That would be creepy. You know?"
I sniffled. "Y-yes, Mrs. Martin."
"How long you been laying there?"
"Um ... since they left." I glanced at the clock. "About three hours,
Ma'am."
"Three hours?" Rebecca tilted her head. "Well, shit, sounds like someone
had a nice, long break."
I wanted to scream that recovering from a brutal, unwanted gangbang
wasn't exactly a break, but I bit my lip.
My angel sat on the couch. "Well, listen, Chrissie, you need to pull
yourself together and get started on dinner. I know they probably got a
little carried away, but boys will be boys. I don't want you laying
around moping about it all night, you hear?"
"Y-yes, Mrs. Martin."
"See? There's my lil Chrissie Pooh." She clapped. "Okay, baba, shake a
leg, I'm starving. Take care of them bags first; I got a couple new
maternity blouses, and some other stuff you'll need to wash later."
"Yes, Mrs. Martin."
"You'll need to pick up a few sexy things to wear until the baby comes.
You can go ahead and use the credit card. Karl likes red." Rebecca
smirked. "Don't get nothing too sexy, or you might steal him away from me
with all them sex tricks I taught you. From the looks of it, they must've
worked."
I wasn't sure how to reply, but I threw out a, "Yes, Mrs. Martin,"
anyway.
She shook her head. "I'm gonna kill that damn Randy for ripping my
negligee like that. And look at all them red marks. What the hell did
they do to you, Chrissie?"
"I ... I ... do you mind if I don't say?"
Rebecca sighed. "Oh, okay, fine, if you want to keep secrets from me,
don't tell me then, I don't care. But I'm hungry, so hurry up with
dinner."
"Yes, Mrs. Martin."
As I passed her, she sniffed the air and crinkled her nose. "Eww, you
need to take a shower first, Chrissie. No offense, but you smell like a
whorehouse."
Brokenhearted and mortified, I obeyed my mistress, although the hot water
in the guest bathroom shower didn't come close to washing away my shame.
Having had much practice at compartmentalizing my degradation, though, I
managed to focus on Rebecca's wishes, which was to get cleaned up and
have dinner on the table ASAP.
The stir fry was almost finished when Karl returned home. A few seconds
after the door slammed shut, he boomed: "Chrissie! Beer!"
I turned off the burner and scrambled to fetch my master's Budweiser.
Karl snickered when I hobbled into the living room and served him on the
couch, where he sat next to Rebecca. "Limping pretty bad, eh? Ol' Randy's
got a big fist, don't he?"
My angel's eyes widened. "OMG, he FIST-FUCKED him??"
"That ain't all he did, huh, Chrissie?"
"Um ... I ... I ..."
"Chrissie won't tell me what happened," Rebecca said. "Must've been
pretty bad."
Karl waved his hand. "Oh, it wasn't that goddamn bad; Randy just had a
few drinks and we got a little wild, that's all."
"Wild?" Rebecca furrowed her brow. "How so?"
"Well, he went crazy with the belt; how many did he give you, Chrissie?
It had to be more than 100."
"Um, I lost count after 120, sir," I muttered.
"He said he wanted to tenderize that ass before he hit it," Karl told
Rebecca with a snigger. "Then, he taught Chrissie how to play the
trombone."
Rebecca sat up. "Ooh, I wanna hear this. What's the trombone?"
Karl winked at me. "Why don't we show her, Chrissie? What do you say?"
Although I wanted to die, I knew how I had to reply: "Y-yes, sir. Thank
you, sir."
Karl stood and unfastened his jeans. After dropping his pants and
underwear, he smirked over his shoulder at me.
"Okay, Carrie Underwood, come play a song for Becca," he said.
With my ears burning, I knelt behind my master, leaned forward, burrowed
my nose in his butt-cheeks and started licking his ass. At the same time,
I reached around and jacked him off.
"See?" Karl laughed. "Playing the trombone."
With my face smushed into my master's buttocks, I couldn't see Rebecca
but I heard her crack up. After she caught her breath, she asked her
husband: "And what were you doing during all this?"
"What do you think?" My master chuckled. "I was hitting that tight little
booty -- although it wasn't so tight anymore after Randy got through with
it."
More laughter shredded my soul.
Karl stepped away from me and pulled up his pants. "Okay, Chrissie, music
lesson's over. Go get dinner ready."
Sniffling back a tear, I replied, "yes, sir."
As I started to slink away, Rebecca frowned. "Go brush your teeth first,
Chrissie. Your breath smells like ass."
\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\//
I stood my suppertime post near the dining room table trying to stay
still, eyeing the clock. At 8pm sharp, I swallowed my anxiety and cleared
my throat.
"Um, sir ... it's time for my counseling session, sir."
Karl set down his fork. "I dunno, Chrissie. You done good today, and took
everything Randy gave you. You made me proud, sissy. Why don't we go
ahead and let you slide tonight?"
"Oh, sir, thank you so much, sir."
He shrugged. "No problem."
Rebecca smiled and sipped her water. "See how nice your master is?"
"Yes, Mrs. Martin."
Karl burped. "One big happy family. Now, how about some more of that
stir-fry, Chrissie?"
After dinner, Rebecca went into the bedroom to gab on the phone while
Karl watched TV. I did the dishes and then puttered around cleaning the
condo with one ear cocked toward the television, which was tuned to a
Thursday Night Football clash between Karl's Cowboys and the Philadelphia
Eagles. Normally after dinner on Thursdays, I drove to Karl's garage to
give it a thorough cleaning, which was a 4- 5-hour job. But my master
wanted me to spend the upcoming Saturday giving the place a deep
scrubbing, so he told me I could skip the usual Thursday night
assignment.
That wasn't necessarily a good thing, since being home when the Cowboys
were playing always presented a danger -- especially during a game in
which Dallas had blown a 21-point halftime lead. Every time Karl cussed
at the TV, a chill ran through me. As the fourth quarter wound down, the
score was tied at 31 with the fate of my already-blistered ass hanging in
the balance. I knew if Dallas lost a heartbreaker like that to their
hated rivals, I'd be in for some serious marriage counseling, despite
Karl's earlier waiver. And, since my ass still throbbed from Randy's
annihilation only hours earlier, that's the last thing I wanted.
For the first time that day, however, the fates finally broke my way
when, with less than a minute left and the Eagles driving, the Dallas
defensive back made an interception and ran it back 82 yards to the
house. On the punt return, Philadelphia's guy carried the ball to their
own 32-yard line, leaving 38 seconds left on the clock. I hid in the
hallway shadows, out of Master's sight, my eyes glued to the game,
feeling like I was about to piss my panties. It was the longest 38
seconds of my life, but I heaved a huge sigh of relief when the Dallas
defense stopped Philly on 4th-and-8, ending the primetime thriller.
As Karl cheered, I decided to take advantage of his good mood, so I
ventured into the living room.
"Um, sir, I was just checking to see if you needed another beer or
anything."
He shook his head. "Nah, I'm good, Chrissie. Fuckin' A, I'm good. Cowboys
WIN, baby!"
"Um, I'm glad, sir. That's good news, sir."
"Goddamn right, it is."
I dropped to my knees and folded my hands. "Sir, is it okay if I sleep
with Miss Rainbow Sunshine tonight?"
"Sure thing, sissy." Karl leered. "You made your daddy proud today,
didn't you? Took it like a good girl?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"Damn, that fuckin' Randy's a mean sumbitch, ain't he?"
I dropped my head. "Yes, sir."
"He do that kinda shit when you suck his dick?"
"Um, yes, sir, he's always grabbing my ears and twisting them real hard,
or pulling my hair, sir. He likes to hurt me, sir."
Karl chuckled. "Well, it must suck being a sissy, having to put up with
all that. But you're good at it. Being a sissy, I mean." He pointed to
his cheek. "Now, come give yo daddy a lil kiss, Chrissie."
Red-faced, I obeyed.
Karl's attention was diverted by a postgame interview, so I stood there
for a minute, waiting for a break in the show, because I had something
else to ask him. When a commercial came on, I again knelt on the carpet.
"Sir, I was wondering if I could please use the credit card to buy
Christmas presents for you and Mrs. Martin."
My master scoffed. "What for, Chrissie? We ain't getting you shit."
Rebecca walked into the room just then and giggled. "OMG, you are so
mean!" She joined her husband on the couch and stuck out her bottom lip.
"Aw, don't listen to him, Chrissie; you're just like part of the family,
and we're getting you a Christmas present too."
After farting with her phone for a few seconds, she presented it to me.
"Here, Chrissie, come pick out your present. Anything you want on Amazon.
If you order it from Prime, it should get here before the party."
I rose and took the phone from my mistress, feeling devastated. First of
all, even though she was acting like she was doing me some huge favor, it
was MY money we were talking about, although I'd been a slave for so long
I didn't really think of my savings and other holdings as belonging to me
anymore. More importantly, though, it broke my heart to know that my
beloved mistress didn't think I wasn't important enough to expend a few
thumb-swipes to buy me a gift, after everything I did for her and her
husband; she had me pick it out for myself. I'm certain she had no idea
how utterly humiliating that was for me.
Scrolling through various choices, I couldn't think of anything to buy. I
would've loved to order a soft bed, or at least an air mattress, because
while sleeping on the stuffed unicorn provided welcome relief from the
unforgiving floor, it wasn't exactly comfortable. But I knew if I asked
for a mattress, Karl would immediately shoot down my request, and
possibly give me an ass-whipping for being "cocky," since one of his
hard-fast rules was "slaves don't use furniture."
Rather than buying myself a gift, I decided to go in the other direction
and get a set of camping accessories that included a canteen, compass and
other items, since a few days earlier I'd overheard my masters planning a
camping trip down south. When I made the purchase, I handed the phone
back to Rebecca, my chest swelling with sissy pride.
"What'd you get, baba?"
I again sank to my knees. "Um, Sir, Ma'am, uh, I didn't get anything for
myself; I got something for you, because I wanted to show you how much I
really want to serve you, and be a good slave for you."
Rebecca giggled. "Awwwwww, that is sooooo sweet."
"Yeah, Chrissie, you're a real sweetheart." Karl sneered. "See? I told
you you'd be fallin' in love with yo daddy soon. Ol' Roscoe always
delivers."
"Oh, be quiet," Rebecca chided her husband before smiling at me. "What'd
you get for us, baba?"
I cleared my throat. "Um, a bunch of accessories for your camping trip; a
canteen and compass and stuff."
Karl nodded. "Hell, yeah, that's a great gift. Nice job, sissy."
"Thank you, sir."
Rebecca brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You know, Chrissie, even
though I'm too big to have sex, I could go for your tongue right now. You
been so good, and put up with so much ... you deserve a little prize."
My face flushed. "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Martin."
Karl squeezed his crotch. "You know what, Chrissie? How about two prizes?
We can make this your second spit-roast of the day, how's that? Ol'
Roscoe says he ain't too tired to hit that ass again; what do you say,
Chrissie Pooh?"
I gulped. "Y-yes, sir." Hating myself, I added: "Thank you sir."
He scoffed. "No problem, sissy. Now, go wash that booty; make it nice and
squeaky clean for yo daddy."
As I struggled to my feet and trudged toward the bathroom, Rebecca
squealed. "Ooh, this is gonna be so much fun. Our first threesome."
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