Message-ID: <11587eli$9805271525@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: cwcobblest@aol.com (Cwcobblest) Subject: Hubby Humiliation Bonanza: "Obscure," part 10 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <1998052416373900.MAA02582@ladder01.news.aol.com> Obscure, part 10 (Mmf, wimp husband) by c.w. cobblestone Have you ever sat up all night crying? Cried so many tears that your face actually started to chafe from the water burns? Well, that's how I spent my night. It was a lovely fucking evening, let me tell you. A divorce! I couldn't believe it! She wanted a divorce! After all I'd done for her! Year after year, I'd put up with everything - the affairs, the physical abuse, the terrible mental abuse. Even when Natalie informed me that Luke would be moving into our home, I bit my lip and took it. I kept hoping that this thing between my wife and Luke was just an infatuation, and that someday Natalie would get tired of the macho asshole. Then it would be just the two of us again. But with the casual wave of her hand, Natalie dissolved away all those pathetic dreams. "People at work might get suspicious." That's what she told me! Can you believe the nerve?!!? Well, I'll say one thing for Natalie: no one ever said she wasn't ambitious! Her career always was her first consideration. But one thing I didn't understand: as soon as she divorced me, she was planning to marry Luke! I knew she loved him - I resigned myself to that fact a long time ago - but marriage? So soon after breaking up with me? What would the people at work think, Natalie? But maybe marrying Luke would be a career move, too, I thought. After all, Luke is a rising star at the prosecutor's office...though he's not quite as sharp as my Natalie. My Natalie. The words stuck in my throat. She wasn't my Natalie any more. Like I said, it was a long night. I thought about suicide, but that wasn't the answer. I don't know if I even could kill myself. I'm a coward, I could never go through with it. I thought about just packing what little clothes I had left and hitting the road. But that little fantasy didn't last long, either. I knew I wouldn't be able to face life without her. A damn coward... At least there was one consolation: I was going to be allowed to stay and serve Natalie and Luke after the wedding. So things weren't all bad. Actually, there wouldn't be much difference in our living conditions after they got married. I was a slave before all this, and I'd be a slave afterward. But, no matter how much I tried to convince myself, I knew things would never be the same. There was no denying Natalie's love for Luke now. Okay, deep down, I probably knew it all along, anyway. But I guess I needed to fool myself to get myself through the day. Now, I wouldn't even have that crutch to lean on. Like I said, it was a long night...and morning wasn't going very well, either. Around 7 am, I decided to get out of bed. I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. I was exhausted - physically, emotionally, just plain exhausted. But I knew I had to somehow get up and face the sun. It was shaping up to be an unseasonably warm day and the Saturday morning air was heavy and still. I didn't want to wake Natalie or Luke, so I decided to get started on my weekend cleaning by scrubbing the kitchen floor - a nice, quiet chore that wouldn't disturb the prince and princess of the household. It's incredible how clean our house stays, thanks to me. Actually, it isn't too difficult cleaning house anymore - partly because I'm used to it, and partly because everything is always spotless already. I don't have to use a lot of elbow-grease to get things clean around here. Still, it's always tiresome to have to get down on your knees and, for the third time that week, do the Cinderella bit! What I wouldn't give for the kind of Saturday afternoon that Luke gets to enjoy: lounging around all day watching college basketball games, with a servant available to fetch cold beers and snacks at the snap of a finger. It took only about an hour before the entire kitchen was spotless. Then I went into the living room and started dusting. So they're getting married in June, I thought as I wiped the TV screen with a damp rag. Well, at least they're waiting a couple months, to make it look good! It'll probably be a big wedding, I thought - Natalie never does anything half-assed. Would she wear white? She ought to wear black, I reflected bitterly to myself as I finished my dusting. The color of vampires. I started cooking breakfast around 9:30. Just as I broke the third egg, I heard my wife - excuse me, my soon-to-be ex-wife - summoning me from the bedroom upstairs. "Briiiiiiiaaaaaan," she called out to me in that "spoiled-brat" tone of voice she uses when she wants something. "I'm thirsty!" she bellowed. "I need orange juice, pronto!" I abandoned my work at the stove and whipped up a cold glass of orange juice as fast as I could. I put it on a tray and scurried up the stairs. She was sprawled across the bed, belly down, and my heart twitched when I saw her smooth, athletic butt rising from the pool of sheets around her. Luke was lying on his side, facing the wall, so I couldn't tell if he was awake or not. I offered the tray to Natalie and she snatched up the glass of juice. She damn near downed the whole glass in the first drink, then let out a soft, ladylike belch. After devouring the rest of the orange juice, she handed the empty glass back to me and simply said, "refill." I rushed downstairs to obey. As I stood in the kitchen refilling her glass, I was surprised to hear Natalie padding down the stairs. She usually doesn't get her ass out of bed this early on a Saturday. Usually on weekends, she and Luke spend hours in their room, sometimes making love, sometimes just cuddling and watching television. So, as I heard Natalie's footsteps approaching, I wondered what was up. She stuck her head in the kitchen and said, "bring it to me in the living room." I swiftly put away the juice bottle and took my wife's drink to the front room. She was lying on the couch wearing an old t-shirt, and the way her legs were spread I could see a glimpse of her heavenly vagina! She wasn't wearing panties, and it was the first time in more than two weeks that I'd seen my wife's bare vagina. I tried not to make my swooning too obvious as I handed Natalie her drink. "You look like you've been up all night crying, Brian," she said, noticing my bleary eyes. "Are you sad about something, sweetheart?" "Yes, Natalie," I croaked. "I am...sad." "Well, being sad isn't going to solve anything, Brian," she said in a matronly tone of voice. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this, anyway." She sat up and took a dainty sip of her orange juice. "It's not like we ever had a normal marriage in the first place, you know? I don't want anything to change, Brian, I already told you that last night. "I like things just the way they are, and so does Luke," she continued. "But like I told you, I can't have any scandals. There's a good chance I may get a crack at the prosecutor's seat after McCuller retires next year. I can't have any skeletons in my closet, Brian." I looked down at the floor, the tears beginning to surface again. "I-is that all I am to you, Natalie?" I asked sadly. "A skeleton in your closet?" My wife's lips immediately snarled up into an angry sneer. "Oh, don't be so goddamn dramatic, asshole!" she hissed. "Okay, I tried to be nice to you. Well here's the truth: you're a fucking spineless wimp, and I don't know why I ever married your sorry ass in the first place!" It sure didn't take much to release Natalie's evil demons. But she was right: she was trying to be nice to me. And I fucked it up with my pathetic whining. "I'm sorry, Natalie," I was quick to say. "I...I'm happy for you, if...if this is what you really want." "Don't fucking lie, Brian - you are NOT happy for me, and you know it!" Natalie laughed and shook her head. "You're pathetic, you know that?" I mumbled something and continued to stare at the floor. Natalie set down her orange juice and laid back down on the sofa. She hunched up the t-shirt she was wearing and spread her creamy legs slowly and seductively. My teeth were chattering as I stared at her exposed pussy as if I were gazing upon the Burning Bush itself. "Look, Brian," she said in a magical tone of voice. "It's my pussy!" She spread the pink lips apart and her clit protruded from her flower. "Would you like a taste?" Before the last word was out of her mouth, I fell to my knees and began begging. "Oh, yes, pleeeease, Natalie, pleeeeeease, may I please have a taste of your beautiful pussy? Pleeeease?" Natalie chuckled and ran her finger across her pussy. Then she put her finger in her mouth and dramatically sucked it. She made a loud, slurping noise as she pulled her finger away from her lips. "Mama knows you want a taste, sweetie," she said as she looked deep into my eyes. "But you'll have to check with Luke from now on, honey. After all," she added in her best 'Scarlet O'Hara' voice, "Luke IS going to be my husband!" "Yes, Natalie," I said, staring ruefully at her vagina. Was there no limit to her cruelty? Natalie didn't notice my sadness as she sat up on the couch and rearranged the throw pillows under her. She laid back down, then propped her hands up behind her head and smiled at me. "Now then, why don't we get down to business? We have a lot of work to do, Brian - the wedding's only two-and-a-half months away. Go get your notebook." For the next 45 minutes, I stood before my reclining wife taking notes as she rattled off a list of things she wanted for her wedding. Above all, she wanted it to be elaborate. "Our wedding was pretty lame," she told me. "I want this one to be special." That remark really hurt my feelings. I was sad that she didn't share the same fond memories of our wedding day as I did. No, we didn't have an elaborate wedding; she was still in law school, and I was just a junior accountant at the time, and we didn't have much money. But, even though it was modest, I always thought we had a lovely wedding. "---Hey, dickhead, are you listening to me?!!?" my wife's voice cut into my thoughts. "Don't be such an airhead, Brian!" she sighed. "Keep your mind on your work. If you fuck this up, I'll cut your balls off!" She continued dictating her wedding plans as I took notes, trying not to stare at her exposed vagina. STAY TUNED FOR MORE FINE BLUEGRASS MUSIC ON KNLR, THE ONLY BLUEGRASS STATION IN COMPTON. NEXT UP, WE'LL PLAY THE HOT NEW HIT FROM REDD DOOLEY AND THE SHIT-KICKERS! -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----