From Sissycucks (yahoo group)
Junio 30, 2009
Storytime
By Bea
“Come ON Alan! You can’t be asleep already!”
“Hey! I’m exhausted!”
She slides into bed beside me and gives me a quick kiss. “Writer’s block again today, huh?”
“Yes. And it’s mentally exhausting!”
“Where were you when Hilda came by?”
“She came by? I didn’t know” (Lying in my teeth.). “She should have called ahead, like I expect people with manners to do.”
“Oh, it was just a spur of the moment thing I guess.”
“Well, when I get into a mental turmoil like I was today? I’m not fit company to anybody.”
“Poor baby! Why don’t we make a little love, huh? It’ll relax you!”
“Sorry darling. Just not up to it tonight”
“It’s been a while. Quite a long while, actually”
“Well, I’m sorry.”
She settles down into the bed. “Hey darling? I know you’re the writer here but I’ve been thinking about a plot for a short story myself.”
“You?” I say and feel her stiffen. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
“Well, it did sound like that! And for all the writing you’ve done recently? I don’t see where you get this superiority complex from.”
“I said I was sorry!”
“Not enough! Sorry dear. Punishment time!”
“Aw, come ON. I’m tired!”
“Okay. I won’t spank you this time as I’m tired too. But here . . .” I feel her reach to the side of the bed.
“What’s this!” I say indignantly as she fits something elasticized over my head and down to cover my eyes. “I can’t see!” and I raise my hand to take it off.
“It’s my panties,” she says, giving my hand a smack. “Leave them alone!”
“These silly punishments of yours. Don’t you think you’re getting carried away with them?”
“No,” she says shortly, still upset.
I think she turns off the light, but as I can’t see too well, it’s debatable.
“Okay!” I sigh. “Why don’t you tell me your plot?”
“Sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now, will you get ON with it?”
“My! Just listen to the bossy little man with panties all over his face.”
“Please?”
“Okay.” She slides an arm around my neck and pulls me into her. Starts. “Once upon a time, there was this husband and wife, who had a friend called Hilda.. .”
“And their names are Alan and Joan, right?”
“Probably. I may change them later on in the story – especially his.”
“Whatever.”
“And they live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood. She works for a living – owns her own business. He stays at home and writes . . Doesn’t make much money – any money, but she makes enough for both of them..”
I yawn, theatrically.
“Listen up! I haven’t heard a plot out of you in a LONG time, so maybe this’ll get you going again. .”
“Sorry. Said I was tired, didn’t I?”
“Want me to wake you up? Really wake you up?”
“No thanks. I’m sorry.”
“Getting back to my plot? She finally gets kinda fed up with him lazing about the house all the time and starts hinting that he pitch in with the housework . .”
“Hinting? Some hinting!”
“He doesn’t listen – or pretends not to hear her, so she has to make the hints clearer and clearer. He still doesn’t listen, so one night she slaps him. .”
“It hurt too!”
“Poor baby! But it gets his attention. He’s very apologetic . .”
“If you’d seen your face? I don’t know of anyone who wouldn’t have apologized . .”
She laughs, “Scary, huh?”
I just nod.
“Well Hilda doesn’t get scared of Joan. At least she doesn’t show it like her husband does.”
“She a bull dyke in the story too?”
“Probably. We’ll see. But she starts coming onto Joan . .”
“See! What did I tell you?”
“Hush! And after a while? Joan reciprocates.”
I stir. “This is something new, right?”
“Of course! Just a story, isn’t it?”
“Hilda a writer in this one too?”
“Of course!”
“Writes these ridiculous private eye bullshit stories with the nom de plume of Rock Rhodes?”
I feel her shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. Don’t know I’ll make her as successful in the story though.”
Jealousy runs through me. “Just because she’s been published a few times!”
“And sold the book rights to the studios – twice. And anyway? How many books have you had published?”
“Why don’t you go on with your plot,” I say, avoiding the question.
“Well, Hilda and Joan become quite an item. Alan doesn’t seem to notice that Joan isn’t so hot to trot in bed any more – he’s become quite busy around the house.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Housework, you ninny, what else?”
“I thought you said he was a writer?”
“Well – he says he’s a writer, but he discovers what a marvelous aptitude he has for being a housewife – just loves it! Just can’t get enough of it. Grumbles and complains to Joan all the time, but he keeps the house immaculately – that’s one of the reasons she doesn’t spank him for being so worthless in bed.”
“Oh. I guess that Alan has to go through punishments too?”
“Naturally. The story Joan discovers how much fun it is to embarrass and humiliate her Alan – just the way I do with mine. Wearing pretty hair ribbons in his hair at times. Polish on his toe nails. That sort of thing.”
“No spankings?”
“Well, hardly any. He’s become such a sweet little thing that she doesn’t have the heart to make him cry.”
I decide to get away from that issue. “But how come housework gets in the way of him performing his marital duties in bed?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Silly me! See, he puts Joan’s clothes on. See she’s got LOTS and he figures she’ll never notice.”
“And that tires him out?”
“Well, he masturbates you see. Plays with himself. Sometimes he puts on his favorite undies, then makes his face up – and then the poor dear’ll get so excited! Just has to run for the bathroom and jack off!”
“Doesn’t seem like that would be a lot of fun.” I say.
“Must be for him. Does it just about every day. Oh, he loves it! Flitting around in gauzy little dresses doing women’s work. Makes sure he doesn’t get any surprise visitors by demanding that they call him first.”
“Well, if Joan had treated him any better – shown him more respect? He probably would never have done anything like that,” I say. Then a thought crosses my mind. “Hey. You got a problem in your plot line. How do Joan and her dyke friend know all this?”
“No problem. With all of Hilda’s research into private detectives? She makes contact with a lot of snoops. Easy to rig up a couple of twenty four hour surveillance cameras in a house nowadays.”
I pause for breath. “Well, do you have an ending in mind? That’s essential you know.”
“I realize that. Yes. Hilda moves in as Joan’s lover . .”
“What happens to him? Do they bump him off?”
Hilda’s voice is at the side of the bed and I feel her weight as she sits. Hear/ feel a kiss between the two women. “Sorry I’m late Joan.”
“Bring your stuff?”
“Yeah, enough for a day or so. I’ll get the rest later.”
I’m suddenly frightened. Lick my lips nervously. “Do they bump him off?”
“And lose a perfectly good maid?” Hilda says.
“Yes.” Joan pipes up. “You can be Hilda’s maid during the day now. Just wait and see what pretty uniforms she’s gonna have you wear! You’ll have the room just down the hall – the one you decorated in pink and white. You’re going to be so HAPPY! You can do our hair – and our laundry! Learn to sew and crochet! All sorts of girly things!”
Hilda laughs. “But first things first. Have you lubricated Helen’s ass yet?”
“No dear. I thought you might want to – it being such an intimate act, you know?” Joan says.
I feel Hilda’s strong hand on my shoulder. “Right you are Helen, over you go! Upsa daisy!” And I’m lying face down on the bed and a hand is smearing something cool up inside my back passage.
“And they lived happily ever after!” Joan says – and kisses Hilda as she clambers up and straddles me..
The end
