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Subject: The Pride of a Worthless Housewife
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===================


"John Aitek" <arkayz_bible@yahoo.com.au> wrote in message
news:52851asstr$1137463803@assm.asstr.org...
>
>
>
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> <1st attachment, "pride-worthless-housewife.txt" begin>
>
> The Pride of a Worthless Housewife
>
> By Arkayz Bible
> January 11, 2006
>
> I had only been at the dinner party for five minutes but already I've
> had two glasses of wine. Unlike the other women in the room, I didn't
> have a husband--two years ago he ran away for a younger and more
> attractive girl, leaving me with our 7-year-old son Tom. When I arrived
> at this dinner party, I arrived with my son Tom, but he quickly walked
> away from me and played with the other kids.
>
> As I looked around, I realized that I just didn't fit in with this
> crowd. I hardly knew anyone, and the thought of talking to someone just
> scared me because these people were very different to me.
>
> "Hi Raeann, are you enjoying the party?" asked someone behind me.
>
> I turned around and found Justine, the person hosting the party. She
> was the one who invited me here. Justine went to the same church as I
> did--that's how we met. Justine probably wanted to make friends with me
> because she had no friends at church. I liked her because she seemed
> like a very cheerful girl. She also had lovely smooth black hair.
>
> While Justine was talking to me, some stranger simple barged into our
> conversation very rudely. It was a woman wearing a very neat blue-navy
> suit.
>
> "Justine!" said the rude woman. "Oh, this is such a lovely party."
>
> Justine smiled back. "Hi, Melinda! I haven't seen you in years." When
> Justine saw her friend Melinda looking at me, she said, "Oh, this is
> Raeann. I met her at church."
>
> Melinda looked at me, giving me an opportunity to see her face. She had
> brown hair, unlike Justine's black hair, but Melinda's brown hair
> seemed just as smooth and flowing as Justine's. The dark brown hair
> also seemed to complement well with the woman's dark suit.
>
> Melinda looked at Justine with surprise. "Since when did you go to
> church?"
>
> "Oh, I'm just trying it out! You know, seeing what else there is in
> life." Justine probably didn't know what else to say. She kept
> exaggerating her smile.
>
> "Are you still working at Pfizer?"
>
> Justine nodded. "I got that promotion. I'm a Senior Research Scientist
> now!"
>
> "Wow, that's impressive."
>
> "What about you, Melinda?" asked Justine. "Are you still at that law
> firm Clayton Utz?"
>
> "Yes, oh, I finally became a partner last year."
>
> "Good for you."
>
> There was a moment of silence and then Melinda looked at me. "I don't
> think I've met someone who regularly goes to church, Raeann. I'm
> actually thinking of going to church myself."
>
> "You can walk in any time you want," I said. "The priest would love to
> see new faces."
>
> "So what do you do for a living?"
>
> I paused for a few seconds. "Oh, I'm just a stay-at-home mom."
>
> "Wow! That's great." Melinda had a giant smile now. "Um, how many kids
> do you have?"
>
> "Just one boy aged 7. He's around here somewhere."
>
> "I don't have any kids...maybe I'll save it till I'm 30 or 40," said
> Melinda. "A friend of mine adopted a girl. I might do that. That way I
> won't gain weight after pregnancy."
>
> I looked down at my own belly.
>
> Melinda quickly spoke. "Oh, no, Raeann, I'm not saying you're fat or
> anything!" She started laughing out loudly. "No, it's just that I
> easily gain weight. It's something to do with my metabolism."
>
> "No, that's okay," I said. "I understand. After my pregnancy I was a
> little fat."
>
> "Is it tough being a housewife?" asked Justine.
>
> "Yeah, it sure is. I have to change diapers, feed the baby...you know,
> all that." Memories from my past started to enter my mind. "When I was
> with my husband, I had to do a lot of cleaning, so now that my
> husband's gone there's less cleaning to do."
>
> Both Justine and Melinda laughed at what I said, which made me feel
> good.
>
> "Men can be just like children," said Melinda. "Sometimes we women have
> to be firm with our husbands to turn them into proper men."
>
> "I don't mind serving my husband and child," I said. "I mean, I'm a
> woman, so that's what I've got to do."
>
> The smile had gone off both Justine's and Melinda's faces. They looked
> at me with concern. I felt nervous now. Maybe I had said something
> wrong.
>
> "Excuse me, I need to refill my wine glass," said Melinda, walking
> away.
>
> When Melinda was gone, I was left with Justine, and she kept smiling at
> me as always.
>
> "Did I say something wrong?" I asked Justine.
>
> "Oh, no, don't worry. That's just the way Melinda is. She's just rude
> like all lawyers are."
>
> I forced out a mild laugh.
>
> "Have you tried the potatoes here?" asked Justine. "How do you like
> them?"
>
> I looked at the food table and saw the baked potatoes. "They look
> good," I said. "I'll try them now." I picked up a potato piece with a
> disposable fork and dumped the piece of potato into some butter before
> popping it in my mouth. The potato tasted surprisingly good. "It's
> fantastic! How'd you cook it?"
>
> Justine kept laughing. "No, I didn't cook it. My husband made it."
>
> "Your husband cooks? You are really lucky to have such a man!"
>
> "He doesn't do ALL the cooking, maybe 40 percent."
>
> "My ex-husband would never do that."
>
> "My husband's in the kitchen right now if you want to ask him about the
> recipe."
>
> "Okay." I grabbed my glass of wine and walked off, suspecting that
> Justine wanted to get rid of me anyway.
>
> As I walked by the living room I found my little boy Tommy. He was
> playing with three other smaller kids. These kids were the only kids at
> the dinner party. Tommy seemed to be having fun with the kids. He liked
> to walk around and poke people with his finger. That's what he was
> doing now to all the other kids, who were trying to run away from him
> as he poked them.
>
> When I arrived in the kitchen I found a man taking out a chicken from
> the oven. This must have been Justine's husband. He looked at me when I
> entered.
>
> "Hi, uh, I'm a friend of Justine's. She told me you made the potatoes
> out there. I was just wondering whether you could share the recipe with
> me because it's really good!"
>
> Justine's husband smiled. "My name's Bill. What's yours?"
>
> "I'm sorry, I'm Raeann." I looked at Bill. He was tall, dark, and very
> handsome. He had large shoulders and lots of muscles, although not too
> much.
>
> "You can give me your e-mail," said Bill, "and I can e-mail you the
> recipe."
>
> "Oh, no, uh, I don't actually have the Internet."
>
> "I see. Well, nevermind. Maybe you can give me your home address. I'll
> print out the recipe and hand-deliver it to you."
>
> "Okay." I grabbed a pen and jotted down my address on a piece of paper
> nearby. Justine's husband Bill picked it up and looked at the address.
>
> "I'll have the recipes ready in a few days." He went back to the sink
> and started washing up.
>
> I decided to speak. "Are you, uh, forced to do the cooking? Does
> Justine make you do this?"
>
> "No, not at all," he said. "We both share the housework."
>
> "Share?"
>
> "Both Justine and I work, so we don't get that much time to prepare
> food. We often eat out. Otherwise, we divide the cooking because
> Justine's not really good at cooking."
>
> I laughed. "She's a woman. She should be good at cooking."
>
> "Not necessarily," said Bill. "Not all women are like that."
>
> I felt uneasy. Bill seemed nervous as well.
>
> "It's just that...with my husband," I said. "I spent a lot of time
> cooking for him. I guess he's one of those traditional men. I wanted to
> make my husband into a man I could be proud of."
>
> "But don't you care about yourself?" asked Bill.
>
> "That's a little selfish, don't you think?"
>
> "Your husband doesn't help you with the housework...isn't that
> selfish?"
>
> "Well, uh..."
>
> Bill walked up to me. "Is your husband still with you?"
>
> I put my head down. "No."
>
> "What happened?"
>
> "He went off with another woman...a much younger one."
>
> Bill nodded as if he expected me to say what I said. "That's what
> happens when you marry a man who treats you like a slave. As you get
> older, he marries a better slave."
>
> I remained silent, not really knowing what to say.
>
> "A career woman is like wine," said Bill. "The older she gets, the more
> she's worth. But a housewife is like a car. The older she gets, the
> less she's worth."
>
> I didn't know what to say. In a way I was offended because he suggested
> that I was worthless. I kept thinking about my ex-husband. He was such
> a trailer trash loser. If I could turn back time I would never marry a
> man like my ex-husband.
>
> I started crying. I couldn't hold it in. There were so many things in
> my life I regretted. Justine's husband seemed apologetic and actually
> held me in his big strong arms. His body was so warm. In fact, on my
> waist I felt the man's giant penis sticking out, tenting his pants, and
> poking my body. Bill must have liked me, or perhaps the sight of a
> woman crying turned him on!
>
> "I didn't mean to say you're not valuable," Bill said as his mouth
> moved closer to my ears.
>
> Without thinking, I brought my mouth closer to his and kissed him,
> feeling my tongue in his warm mouth, feeling our moist lips stick upon
> contact. The sharp spiky hair stubs on his moustache roughly massaged
> my smooth skin. He kissed me back and briefly touched my breasts, but
> he quickly let go and pushed me away.
>
> "I, uh, I shouldn't," he said, before walking out of the kitchen.
>
> I stood alone in the kitchen with the taste of the man's saliva still
> in my mouth. My right breast still stung a little where the man had
> placed his hands and squeezed firmly. In a way I was glad Bill did what
> he did. Even though I wanted him so badly I knew I couldn't have him,
> and perhaps he felt the same way about me.
>
> From the kitchen bench I grabbed a glass and looked for wine to fill it
> up. There was no wine bottle nearby, so I walked into the pantry. The
> pantry was like a little room. As I went in, the door closed behind me,
> inundating me with darkness. It must have been one of those
> automatically closing doors. I was about to open the door but then
> heard two people entering the kitchen. I could see the two women who
> entered the kitchen because the pantry door had horizontal holes.
> Melinda was looking around the kitchen while Justine stood by the door
> and drank a glass of juice.
>
> "Where's your husband, Justine? I thought you said he was in the
> kitchen."
>
> "I told Raeann to come in here, so perhaps those two have gone off
> somewhere."
>
> "Be careful, Justine," said Melinda. "Raeann could steal your husband!"
>
> Justine laughed. "That's not likely. Why would Bill want to be with an
> old housewife like Raeann? That's not him."
>
> "Raeann's weird," said Melinda. "Did you hear her talk about how she
> wants to serve her husband? I mean, she's like one of those Stepford
> Wives! There really is no difference between a housewife and a
> prostitute."
>
> "I suppose she's just a different type of woman."
>
> Hidden in the pantry, I could hear everything these women were saying
> about me. I got rather angry listening to them.
>
> "I think what she's doing is just shameful," said Melissa. "I mean, as
> women nowadays we don't get the respect we deserve in this society, and
> the reason is because not enough women are willing to demonstrate that
> they deserve respect. There are so many women out there who are willing
> to be slaves and objects! These willing slaves are the ones who tarnish
> the image of women. These women are the ones who ruin it for the rest
> of us. Women like Raeann only confirm the stereotypes that sexist men
> have for us."
>
> Justine walked out and Melinda followed her.
>
> When I walked out from the kitchen, I held my empty glass and looked
> for the nearest bottle of wine. When I found a bottle of red wine, I
> filled up my glass and gulped the liquid down quickly, trying to fill
> my whole body up. I felt mad now. I felt completely alone and isolated.
> Everyone around me was against me. All these women with their
> university educations and big fancy titles were looking down upon me
> because I was just a mom and a housewife. I felt like my small sense of
> self-respect had just disintegrated. I was now wallowing in the
> realization that I may not measure up. In particular I was mad with
> Justine. When we met in church, she had been so nice to me, and now
> when she thought I wasn't around she spoke about me as if I were some
> cheap whore.
>
> My eyes spotted Justine's husband Bill on the other side of the room.
> He was talking to another man who was shorter and much less handsome
> than he was. Justine believed her husband Bill would never want to be
> with me, but how would she explain the boner he got when he held me in
> his arm? It was quite a massive boner as well.
>
> I walked up to Bill. When he saw me he looked nervous again.
>
> "Hello, Bill, um, could you follow me for a second? I think your
> toilet's broken." I normally don't lie, but right now I felt like I had
> to lie.
>
> "There's something wrong with the toilet?"
>
> "It doesn't seem to flush. The toilet water is going yellow."
>
> Bill looked concerned. "I'll take a look."
>
> As Bill hurried towards the bathroom, I followed closely behind. When
> he arrived in the bathroom, he went straight to the toilet and opened
> the lid. I closed the bathroom door behind me and locked it.
>
> The bathroom was rather big. Not only was there a toilet but there was
> also a shower, a bath, hand basins, a sink, and plenty of free space.
> Although the party outside was very loud--people were chattering and
> the CD player blasted out rap, pop, and classical music--the bathroom
> was relatively quiet, maybe because the walls were sound resistant.
>
> Bill pressed on the flusher and the toilet flushed as normal. "Seems
> fine to me," he said. "You have to press on the button with more
> force."
>
> Since his back was turned to me, I walked over to him. As I did so I
> took off my clothes till I only wore my black bra and panties. I
> grabbed him from behind and threw him on the tiled floor near the
> toilet. He looked up at me in my revealing clothing. His eyes widened.
> His boner was massive!
>
> "What are you doing?" he asked.
>
> I jumped on the man and pressed my mouth against his. I drilled my
> pussy against the top of the tent that had formed on his pants. My
> pussy rubbing on the man's penis under his clothing must have aroused
> him because he moaned loudly for a while. Bill then grabbed my shoulder
> and pushed me off. He was strong, so I was hurled back rather easily.
> He then stood up, but as soon as he stood up I ran into him again and
> pushed him on the toilet. He was sitting on the toilet now and I was
> sitting on his lap as a little girl would sit on Santa's lap at a
> department store. Once again the man grabbed me, and as he did I ripped
> my bra off, exposing my breasts to him. His eyes widened, his pupils
> dilated, and he stared at my boobs for a while before looking back up
> at my face. He stood up and, still holding me by the shoulders, pushed
> me against the bathroom wall.
>
> "Stop this," he said firmly, his face about seven inches from mine. "I
> can hurt you if I wanted to."
>
> "Go ahead," I told him. "Hurt me! Rape me! I'm a worthless whore and I
> deserve it! Even you think I'm not valuable."
>
> The anger in his eyes seemed to vanish. He was starting to soften. I
> couldn't let this happen, so I jumped on him again and forced him to
> the ground. As he lied on the ground on his back, I straddled him. I
> swung my fist back and punched the man on the face. He never expected
> it. If I hit him enough hopefully he'd hit me back. I brought my fist
> back up again and this time slammed it down hard on his belly, winding
> him. He brought his hands to his belly as a reflex. His face tightened
> in pain. His eyes were watering, and his breathing became rapid and
> erratic.
>
> Very quickly I unzipped the man's pants, released his large penis from
> underneath his boxers, and quickly enveloped the massive penis with my
> mouth, slurping and sucking on it. Bill moaned loudly as the sensation
> combined with the pain in his upper body.
>
> "Aahhh!" he cried. "No...what are you..."
>
> I increased the speed at which I bobbed my head up and down, feeling
> the penis enlarge as I did so. I then ripped off my panties, exposing
> my shaved pussy. With his penis large as ever and starting to ooze pre-
> cum, I brought my pussy lips up and positioned the tip of his penis at
> the opening of my pussy before jumping down on the man, feeling his
> penis piledrive up into my body. He loudly vocalized.
>
> I then brought my face down close to his and then spat on his face
> before punching him again. He was getting rather annoyed. I lifted my
> hips up and down, tightly massaging his penis. I was going to punch
> Bill in the face again but this time he grabbed me by the back of my
> head with his left hand. My eyes then quickly saw his right fist fly up
> towards me as he punched me on the face. I felt pain explode in my
> head. I was blinded for a moment, and my ears started ringing, but I
> kept moving my hips up and down, trying to milk his wiener.
>
> "Hit me, Bill!" I screamed. "Hit me!" I felt close to orgasm.
>
> Bill grabbed me by my neck and held me. "You crazy bitch!" He hit me
> again but this time he simultaneously moved his body away so that I was
> humping air. He hit against my breast with such force that I felt my
> breasts springing me into the air.
>
> I got up from the ground just as Bill got up from the ground. He had a
> huge boner with my juices dripping off it. I was at the edge of my
> climax and needed his penis, so I ran up to him again. Bill grabbed me
> very skillfully and threw me against the toilet. As I fell, my head
> smashed against the white rim of the toilet bowl and an immense pain
> shot through my head.
>
> "Shit!" cried Bill, running up to me. "Oh, God, what have I done?" He
> grabbed me by the shoulders and picked me up, tenderly this time.
>
> My mind was going warm. My vision was starting to fuzz up. As Bill held
> me, I looked down at the toilet and noticed the bright red blood
> splashed all over the white toilet. I brought my hand to my hair and
> rubbed for a while before moving my hand in front of my face. My hand
> was drenched in red blood. Some of the blood dripped off my fingers,
> the droplets landing on my face. My pussy was still tingling strongly.
> I needed to cum. Why wouldn't this man just rape me? Bill had his
> fingers in my hair. He was inspecting the wound on my head.
>
> "It won't require stitches," he said. "A band-aid might be fine, but we
> might have to shave this region to remove the hair."
>
> The man laid me down on the ground. I looked up at the toilet. His
> penis was only about half-erect now as he fiddled with my hair. Why was
> he so obsessed with my head? Why didn't he look at my tits! I felt
> angry. I tried to grab him again, but he expected it and quickly
> brought his hands from my head and grabbed my wrists firmly. As I
> flailed and shook my arms around, he tightened his biceps and
> stabilized my flailing until I could only squirm. He then looked down
> at my face.
>
> "What are you doing?" he asked. "You're bleeding. Hold still and I'll
> help you."
>
> He let go of my arms and went back to my head, trying to press his
> fingers against it to stop the blood flowing out. He was so nice. He
> was like my dad before I left home and married that trailer trash boy.
> I could have gone to college. My dad told me I could and I believed
> him, but I ran away because of love. How foolish was I? How worthless
> am I now? I thought about Justine and Melinda, telling me I was a
> disgrace. I started crying again.
>
> Bill heard me. He moved his face closer to mine. "What's wrong? Does
> your head hurt? What if I pressed harder?" He pressed a finger harder
> against my head.
>
> My voice was weak. I felt drained of energy. "I want you to fuck me,
> Bill."
>
> "What?" Bill paused. "But...I...I'm married."
>
> I spoke, almost whispered. "If you don't start fucking, hitting, and
> strangling me, Bill, I'm gonna hit you, and if you don't hit me back to
> stop me hitting you, I'll...I'll hit myself. I'll fucking smash my head
> against that toilet. I'll kill myself and it'll be all your fault."
>
> "What?" He looked at me. "Why would you do that?"
>
> "Start fucking me!" I threw a punch in his direction, but he caught me
> by the wrist.
>
> "Okay then, I'll do it. But you must promise not to hurt yourself."
>
> I nodded.
>
> Bill continued. "And go see a psychologist, please."
>
> I nodded again, this time putting my hands on his bum cheeks and
> bringing his penis down towards my wet pussy. As soon as his penis made
> contact with my pussy, it hardened again.
>
> Bill spoke. "Also, don't tell my wife."
>
> I pulled against one end of his belt and threw it away. His pants
> easily slid down all the way to his shins. He loaded his rock-hard
> penis in my vagina and started kissing me on my face, licking my
> cheeks, eyes, and my nose, licking away the blood and tears. He then
> kissed me on the mouth while softly grinding his penis in me.
>
> He separated his face from mine and kneeled up so that his penis could
> go further down into me. He then started pumping his penis in and out
> from my pussy. Each thrust created new pleasure that rippled throughout
> my body.
>
> "Aren't you going to hurt me, Bill?"
>
> Bill looked down at me. He made a fist with his hand, brought it up,
> and held it there hesitantly.
>
> "Hit me, Bill, or I'll tell your wife about what we're doing!"
>
> Bill then hit me on my face, making me dizzy in the head again. My head
> bounced from side to side as he hit me again. While he hit me he kept
> fucking me, this time harder. The pain from my head quickly diffused
> through the body and conflicted with the pleasure coming from my pussy.
> Bill then took his penis out from my pussy and stood up. The pleasure
> was temporarily stalled, and all that was left was pain. I was about to
> complain, but then Bill grabbed my hips with his left hand and with his
> right hand on the back of my head dunked me face-first into the toilet
> bowl. He forced my head into the water, which started to turn red. I
> felt water surround me as he flushed the toilet. My pussy felt full
> now. He was fucking me from behind, smashing my soft flexible body
> against the hardness of the toilet. I could hear nothing when my face
> was underwater, but after a while he pulled my head back up and I
> gulped in as much air as I could. While my head was above water, so too
> were my ears and I could hear Bill loudly grunting as he rammed his
> penis into my pussy. My feet on the tiled floor started to give way
> with the force of his fucking and I fell, feeling my pubes making
> contact with the floor. But Bill still held my head in the toilet bowl.
> My breasts pressed against the rim of the toilet. My whole upper body
> was twisted and bending. Bill just kept fucking me. My head wasn't
> above water for long. He pushed my head back in with so much force my
> face smashed against the surface of the bowl, making me see black for a
> while before a new gush of blood streamed out from a new wound.
>
> Bill had enough of this awkward toilet sex. He lifted me up and threw
> himself to the floor with me underneath him. As I fell, my body fell
> faster than his body, so my pussy disassociated from his cock, my body
> spun around in the air, and I landed on my back a few microseconds
> before his chest landed on my boobs, his penis slotting into my vagina
> perfectly. We head butted each other when we landed.
>
> Bill started fucking me roughly. He grunted loudly and held me down.
> His hands on my neck started strangling me. He kept fucking me. My
> pussy was burning. Bill's face was high above mine. His arm looked so
> tall as it jutted from my neck, like a skyscraper reaching for the sky.
> As he strangled and fucked me, I felt so vulnerable, so dependent on
> him. If his hand was the skyscraper, his body was the sky, and his face
> was like the face of God. I may not be able to see God, but I try hard
> to feel him, to experience his vengefulness and omnipotence. I seek a
> God who can give me commandments to which I can submit. He controlled
> me. He decided whether I died or lived, whether I was healed or sick.
> He created me, so He had the power to destroy me. I needed and was now
> experiencing his infinite power and authority. His punishments were
> like divine forgiveness, cleansing me of sin, preparing me for another
> world where I would be in eternal service to Him.
>
> I reached orgasm and started cumming. A wave of pussy juices gushed out
> and drenched his penis. I felt the semen squirting from his penis deep
> into me, like I was touched by a divine and almighty force. He let go
> of my neck and when he hit me on the face again, I had another orgasm.
>
> Then it was over. Exhausted, Bill's body collapsed on mine.
>
> A minute later, Bill got off me and zipped up his pants. He told me to
> put my clothes back on. His clothes were a little moist with toilet
> water. With toilet paper he wiped away the blood and flushed the dirty
> paper down the toilet. Since he had dunked my head in the toilet water
> earlier and flushed it, my face and head were now rather free of blood.
> He kissed me on the cheeks and told me to go home.
>
> THE END
>
> Word Count: 4690*
> <1st attachment end>
>
>
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> | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to:
<story-submit@asstr.org>|
> | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators:
<story-admin@asstr.org> |
>
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+
> |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by
<http://www.asstr.org> |
> |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject
{ASSD}|
>
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