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From: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "The Seven Curses of Hannah" (4/9) (Mast, Bondage,Magic) 
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Date: Fri, 19 Oct 2007 12:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Torment04.doc" begin>

This story of sex, magic, and bondage is owned, copyrighted and
so forth by me, Shon Richards.  Please don't make any money from
it, okay? 

The entire story has been written and will be posted on a fairly
regular schedule until completion.  If you enjoy it, please drop
me an email at <a
href="mailto:shonrichards@yahoo.com">shonrichards@yahoo.com</a>
as your lovely comments is the only payment this writer
receives.

More of my stories can be found at
http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/

The Seven Curses of Hannah:
Part Four

By Shon Richards

 
Hannah was ready to forgive Adam. She woke up horny. Adam was
sleeping beside her, and there were a good 20 minutes before the
alarm would go off. She wanted to fuck. Hannah wanted to climax
or feel the warm splash of Adam's climax. At this level of
arousal, either would be satisfying. 

She burrowed under the covers, leaving behind the cold October
morning air for the warmth of bodies under the comforter. Hannah
opened Adam's pajama bottoms and pulled out his half-erect cock
She slipped it into her mouth and sucked oh-so-tenderly.

She licked him with all the care and affection she used to feel
for him. The taste of him was what she craved. The stiffening of
his cock reaffirmed that she was a woman worth desiring. It was
so easy to forget all the neglect, all the times he had rejected
her for sex and all the heartache she had gone through wondering
why his libido had died while hers had paradoxically risen. In
the smothering heat of a blowjob under covers, all doubt and
regret is burned away. Relief washed over her; maybe things
weren't as bad as she'd suspected. As she sucked her husband's
cock, Hannah began to believe that she didn't need the strange
sexual curses that had recently dominated her life.

"God damn it," Adam yelled. His hands flipped off the covers and
pushed at Hannah's shoulders. 

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he said. "I've got the
Henderson meeting first thing this morning."

Hannah looked at her husband, his cock still in her mouth. She
gave his cock a coaxing lick.

"Damn," Adam said, and Hannah thought she had won him over. "I
need to have the mid-month finished, too." 

His tone made it clear that having his cock sucked had ruined his
entire day.

Hannah took Adam's cock out of her mouth and apologized. It
didn't stop him from whining and bitching about the day ahead. He
complained after his shower, he fussed about the lack of clean
socks while getting dressed, and he was downcast as he sullenly
ate his breakfast. By the time Adam left for work, Hannah was out
of forgiveness. She had moved full on to resentment and quite a
bit of hostility.

She was also very horny.

Wednesday was laundry day. It was a full-day affair; Hannah had
figured out how to stretch it with a lunch break, ironing,
folding and an hour of World of Warcraft while the towels dried.
She sorted through the hamper of dirty laundry and tried not to
think of the fiasco of this morning.

Instead, she thought of her curses. What might today's curse
bring? Would she be smothered in her laundry, held helpless while
the towels whipped her bottom? Would she held down while Samuel
entered her house, taunting her with what he was going to do to
her? Would he make her suck his gorgeous cock? Would she choke on
his cum as he filled her throat?

Oh, Hannah hoped so, and yet she didn't. She suspected that all
she had to do was go over to his house and knock on his door and
she would be fucked all day long. She knew this, but she couldn't
do it. She wanted it, but she was also afraid of what that kind
of decision would mean. It would mean the end of her and Adam. It
would mean telling her family that she had lost the husband who
gave her such a nice house and a life of luxury. It would mean
that Adam would be the good guy and she would be the bad girl.
For some reason, that galled her most of all. She was the hurt
one here, damn it. She wasn't going to do anything that could
change that. She would rather suffer than give Adam that kind of
victory.

Hannah was still fuming in offended martyrdom when she started
the first load of laundry. It was large pile of whites, half of
which were Adam's socks. She dumped them in, set the temperature
for hot, put in the detergent and slammed the lid shut.

That was when a powerful force slammed her against the washer.
Her hips were pressed against the filling machine, her legs
spread wide by some unknown power. That same invisible strength
pushed her head down and pulled her arms behind her. Hannah
moaned as her heavy breasts pressed against the cold lid of the
washer. Her chin rested on the back of the control panel, her
nose pressed against the wall. She was completely immobilized.

The clothes were next. Her shirt was ripped off her. Her bra fell
in tatters. Her pajama bottoms tore with a loud rip. Her white
cotton panties exploded into inch-long scraps. She was stripped
bare and helpless.

She should have been afraid, but she wasn't. She welcomed it. She
didn't know what was about to happen, but she knew one thing and
that thought made her tingle between her thighs. These things
were happening because someone wanted to do something to her.
That kind of attention made her euphoric.

The washer went into its cycle, but something was different. It
filled with water, but this water was so hot that the temperature
of the washer became almost unbearably hot. Hot metal brought
Hannah's skin to life, obliterating any chill that was left in
the October morning.

Then the washer moved. The wash cycle began, but instead of the
gentle hum she had come to know, this was a bone-rattling
vibration. Her entire body shook with the strength of the
vibrations. Her nipples were so hard pressed against the
vibrating metal lid. The invisible force that held her ground her
hips against the machine, pressing her pussy and, more important,
her clitoris against the warm steel. 

"Yes!" she cried. The vibrations were better than any toy. Bent
over and pinned against the machine, she felt as though she were
being fucked. She was trapped in a wonderful threesome with the
machine and the invisible force. She was in the center of heat,
vibrations and unyielding power.

She tried to grind. She tried to move her hips against the
washer. She tried to somehow fuck, but the absolute force that
held her forbade it all. All she could do was stay there and take
it.

Hannah took it.

The vibrations grew stronger. The floor creaked from the
out-of-control washer. The walls shook a little, and Hannah
watched a crack form on the wall. She knew she should be
concerned but somehow the damage being done to her laundry room
amused her. It was like breaking a bed with sex or leaving a
stain on a dress. All the stress and damage were proof that
Hannah was having one hell of a time.

The vibrations stopped. She groaned with disappointment. She
tried to get up, but she still couldn't move. She heard water
draining, and she sighed with relief. She still had the spin
cycle to go through. In the brief pause, she noticed how much of
her desire had dripped down her thighs.

It was worth the pause. Once again, the washer ramped up into
some sort of overdrive parody of its usual cycle. The vibrations
were so strong that her pinned breasts felt as though they were
being squeezed with prickly fingers. The spinning was so intense;
it was a pulsing sensation of vibrating bliss on her pussy. 

"Oh, yes," Hannah screamed. 

"Oh, yes!" Hannah moaned.

"Oh, yes!" Hannah cried.

Hannah came. The invisible force kept her pinned as her orgasm
rippled through her body. She surrendered to her immobility and
rode her orgasm out. She became a creature of pleasure, free of
husbands, doubt and decisions. She ceased to be a wife and was
just a woman fucked in the laundry room.

The washer stopped. She slumped with exhaustion, and it was a
good seven seconds before she realized that the invisible force
was gone. She had been released and hadn't even noticed it.

The front of the washer was stained with her desire. She laughed
as she flopped to the floor. Her body was numb from the
vibrations, and her pussy felt as though it had exploded into a
nova. She sat on the floor and breathed.

Idly, she pulled through her brown hair, moving aside the blond
and red locks till she found what she was looking for: a single
white lock, the same color as her washing machine. 

To be continued,

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