Michelle Ch. 4
The Weekend At Home
by NiteWriter
(September 2004)
This was the second time Michelle arrived at home from work looking a bit
strange. Last night she was out dressed like a street whore and today she
returned looking extremely exhausted with her clothes wrinkled. Michelle knew
that today she was much more abused than the night before. Her husband hadn't
said much to this point, but the way she looked today with her breasts so badly
beaten, he surely would question her now. She was even afraid that he would
throw her out of the house.
She walked in and he was watching TV. He looked up at her. "Have a good time
being a slut," he asked? Michelle wanted to die right on the spot. She never
felt so embarrassed and humiliated as she was at this moment in front of her own
husband. "Who is he Michelle? Who's fucking you?" Michelle ran upstairs ready to
break out in tears.
Michelle's husband followed her up to the bedroom. She was on the bed crying. "I
don't know what I'm going to do with you Michelle? I thought I married a decent
girl. How long has this been going on?"
Still in tears all she kept saying was, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry."
"So what is it," he kept asking? "I know you're doing something Michelle. I want
to know."
Michelle just kept sobbing while her husband pressured for an answer.
"You're fucking someone, aren't you Michelle? Who is it?" He paused only for a
second while he mumbled under his breath, "filthy little whore." Then he resumed
the barrage of questions.
"Are you giving your cunt away for free or is he paying you?" He was getting
madder and madder.
The sobbing got louder as he hit a nerve by asking what she charged and how
utterly disgusted he was. She felt so humiliated. If he only he knew she was
giving herself away and she was beginning to like it.
"So how much is it for fuck?" ...... Again he paused.
Michelle's husband never spoke like this to her. It was obvious he was furious
that she was doing something behind his back.
"You bitch!" ...... "Do you give blowjobs too?"
He stood there looking at Michelle crying on the bed and waiting for some sort
of reply.
"You dirty cunt. I'm so disgusted with you."
Unable to get an answer he went back downstairs. Michelle got up, wiped her
eyes, and quickly changed. She didn't want him to see her breasts. She could
only imagine the comments he would have about the way they looked.
For the rest of the day her husband didn't say much to Michelle. He didn't bring
up what he suspected she was doing behind his back. That evening when they
attended a country club banquet, Michelle acted as the normal respectful wife.
In fact, she went out of her way paying a lot of attention to her husband. She
did however, have several flashbacks throughout dinner thinking how well dressed
and classy all these women were tonight, including herself, and then remembering
how she dressed and acted like such a whore for Peter. She knew that her husband
was really upset and disappointed with her. But what she experienced with her
manager was just so exciting.
Sunday morning Michelle's husband was out early as usual with his golf buddies.
She knew the house would be to herself for most of the day. She lay in bed for a
long time thinking about Peter. He was so forceful and demanding. For once in
her life she felt so wanted by a man even though the relationship was so rough
sexually. But even that part was arousing. Her orgasms had been so intense.
Michelle finally got out of bed and showered. She softly washed her still
somewhat sore breasts. Most of the marks left by Peter's harsh treatment were
fading, but still they felt so tender to touch. Even in the shower as the water
spray irritated them, she could only remember Peter beating them and how his
abusive behavior aroused her.
After the shower Michelle searched through her closet for something loose
fitting to wear. She found a short tennis outfit that she hadn't worn in years.
She slipped it on. The top was fine allowing her breasts enough room to avoid
being tight against the material. The bottom was extremely short. She recalled
years ago how so many men eyed her up on the tennis court trying to catch a
glimpse of her panties. They always managed to get a peek at her cute covered
behind. At that time teasing those men was the most exciting thing she had ever
experienced.
Now Michelle was a lot older and she had become more conservative, at least up
to a few days ago when she started seeing her new manager.
She decided not to wear any panties under the short mini skirt. The tennis
outfit barely covered her ass and she knew Peter would love that. She was sure
that he would be playing with her ass if he could see her in this outfit, she
thought.
As Michelle stood there admiring her body in the mirror and fantasizing about
Peter, she instinctively touched her pussy. She never did that before. She
simply couldn't resist. She stroked one finger into her slit and then tasted it.
It sent chills throughout her body and made her crave having an orgasm.
Michelle went downstairs for something quick to eat. She felt so strange being
without a bra and panties. She felt as though she were naked walking through the
house. "What's happening to me?" she thought. "Peter,...Oh Peter..." Her mind
wandered back to her manager and what he was doing to her.
Still in a daze from everything that happened the past few days, Michelle went
to the den and sprawled out on the sofa. She flipped the short skirt up around
her waist and started rubbing her pussy again.
"Oh, My God,..." She whimpered out.
Her fingers began probing her cunt. She was becoming more aroused.
Michelle played with her pussy until her fingers were soaked, but she couldn't
make herself cum. She thought about Peter and how he whipped her breasts and
fucked her cunt. Her fingers moved further down touching her asshole. She began
thinking about Peter and how he had rammed into her ass. It hurt so much when he
did that.
She touched her tight anus and slipped one finger in. She wiggled it around and
then pulled it out. It felt so good. She probed in again only this time with two
fingers and shoved them in deep. "Ohhhhh," she groaned.
"What's happening to me?" She thought again.
"I'm becoming a slut," she answered herself.
"I shouldn't be doing this." She continued mentally talking to herself and
feeling guilty.
"Ohhhhh,..." she moaned as her fingers dug deeper into her ass. "But it feels so
good. I wish it were Peter."
She glanced to her side and noticed her hairbrush on the coffee table.
She quickly reached for it. Then holding it by the bristles she started rubbing
the plastic handle in her asscrack. "Oh my God...," she moaned feeling the hard
object scrape over her anal hole.
A few minutes later Michelle stuffed the handle of the brush into her cunt to
lubricate it. After a couple seconds she removed it and began poking it against
her tight pucker in an attempt to force it in. Her anus split open and swallowed
the handle completely. She started fucking her ass with it and moaning," I'm a
whore,.... I'm a whore.... I have to cum... please cummm...."
She then pulled the handle out and quickly scraped the bristles over her
breasts. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,..." she screamed from the sharp prickly feeling.
Then she rammed the handle back up her ass. "Ohhhhhhhhh Fuck," she grunted.
Michelle pumped the brush handle in and out of her asshole faster. She moaned
and whimpered calling herself, "you dirty whore,... you nasty slut,... fuck that
ass..." She imagined it was Peter calling her those names and ordering her to
masturbate both holes for him.
Her whole body craved the intense treatment even if she had to do it herself.
She wanted to cum so badly. She thought, "if only Peter were here to spank me or
slap my breasts."
Again, she yanked the plastic handle from her ass. This time she pulled the
bristles harder across her nipples, not once but a few times. It hurt so much on
her tender sensitive flesh, but still it sent waves of pleasure to her pussy. It
was as though her cunt were wired directly to her breasts and any infliction of
pain to them triggered an arousing sensation between her legs.
She grabbed the brush by the bristles again ready to plunge it back in her ass.
She stared at the handle seeing it coated with slime from her rectum. In her
highly aroused state the filthy smell was intoxicating. "Oh Peter look at me,"
she cried. Without hesitation Michelle put it to her lips. A second later she
pushed the handle into her mouth and licked it to get a taste of her own ass.
"Mmmmmmm," she mumbled. "I'm such a dirty slut," she gasped swallowing the vile
residue it left on her tongue. "Oh Peter, I want to be so dirty for you. I wish
you could see what I'm doing."
Michelle was lost in her own world of sexual depravity. After two days of an
erotic adventure with her boss, she was turning into a naughty disgusting slut.
She was transforming into exactly what Peter wanted.
Michelle inserted the handle into her ass again, ramming herself harder. She
pinched her nipples, twisted them and pulled. She began squirming on the sofa.
As she assfucked herself, an orgasm was building within her body. Her pussy was
throbbing in anticipation. She jammed the hairbrush into her ass deeper until it
wouldn't go anymore.
"OOOHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!..... FUCKKKKK!!!!...," she groaned. "I'm cummming....
I'm cummmming...."
Michelle thrashed about on the sofa enjoying her self-produced orgasm. She
moaned to her lover the whole time wishing he were there to see the dirty things
she was doing.
Twenty minutes later Michelle was back upstairs changing into something more
respectable and conservative. She wanted to look decent for her husband when he
returned home.
Michelle spent the remainder of Sunday concealing her breasts from her husband.
How could she explain what her boss did to her? And what was worse, she wanted
more. She couldn't get Peter out of her mind. Yes, he abused her pretty bad, but
he was bringing out feelings that she had never felt before.
_________________________________
NiteWriter
continued in Ch5 - Training Her Ass
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