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From: cwcobblest@aol.com (Cwcobblest)
Subject: Hubby Humiliation Bonanza: "Their World," part two
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Their World, part 2 (Mmf, wimp husband)
by c.w. cobblestone


It was a hot, sticky Saturday in July and I was dying from the heat. As I
toiled to get dinner ready on time, I looked longingly at the two frosty
glasses of iced tea sitting on the kitchen counter. How I wished I could get
something cold to drink for myself! But I didn't dare - not even a sip of tap
water. I hadn't asked permission. 

It was at least 90 degrees outside, but with the three burners going on the
stove, it must have been at least 20 degrees hotter in the kitchen. But Monica
and Randy wanted dinner ready at 6:30 sharp, so there was no time to concern
myself with the temperature.

I used my apron to wipe the sweat off my face, then placed the iced teas on a
serving tray. As I walked carefully outside to the pool, I saw Monica lying on
a chaise lounge, soaking up the last rays of the slowly sinking sun. Randy
reclined on his chaise, reading a book.

I served Monica first. Her eyes were closed as I placed her drink on the table
beside her. She didn't notice me. I walked over to Randy and respectfully set
his drink in front of him.

"Dinner's almost ready," I announced to my wife and her lover. "Would you care
to eat out here or in the dining room?"

They both totally ignored me. For about three minutes, I stood there patiently,
unsure whether to ask the question again or to leave and continue to prepare
their dinner. As they both relaxed, meditating in the sun's rays, I realized
once again how insignificant I was to them: they didn't even consider me
important enough to bother answering. 

Finally, I cleared my throat and asked again: "um, excuse me, but would where
would you like your dinner to be served? Here or in the dining room?"

Monica shielded her eyes from the setting sun and looked up at me, annoyed.
"Ask Randy, I don't care."

Randy stretched and yawned (tired from another rough day of lying around by the
pool!) With a casual wave of his hand, he said, "I think I'd rather eat in the
dining room tonight."

I bowed slightly to Randy as I made my retreat. "Yes, sir, everything will be
ready in about 15 minutes."

Neither Monica nor Randy answered me as I turned and hurried back to the
kitchen. 

I would have to rush if I was to have dinner ready on time.

Like a cyclone, I swirled about the steamy kitchen, applying the finishing
touches on Monica and Randy's evening meal. Cracked crab, with chocolate mousse
for desert. I suddenly realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten since my
meager breakfast, which consisted of a grapefruit and a glass of water. I
prayed that there would be table scraps left for me tonight.

As I finished setting the dining room table, Monica and Randy walked in from
the pool holding hands. My wife looked absolutely stunning as her golden tan
contrasted with her neon pink bikini. I held Monica's chair out for her, and
she sat down regally. I then rushed over to Randy and pulled his chair out for
him. He patted me on the head and plopped down with a satisfied sigh.

"Hey, fatass, how about a cold one?"

"Right away, sir." I turned to leave the room.

"Hey, slob, what about me?" Monica demanded angrily. "How dare you go to leave
this room without asking what I want to drink! I don't fucking believe you!"

Uh-oh. It didn't take much to piss either one of them off - and I knew I’d just
pissed Monica  off, big-time.

"Come over here," she ordered in a sinister tone of voice. I was petrified, but
I managed to creep over to my irate wife.

SLAP! She caught me hard across the mouth with a backhand, her diamond ring
cutting my lip.The stars were just starting to swirl around my head when she
came across with another hard slap, this one landing flush against my face.

"Just who in the fuck do you think you are? Do I not fucking exist in this
house? Answer me!" She looked over at Randy, whose lips were curled in a scary
smile. He always enjoys watching Monica display her power over me. "Y'know
what? she asked Randy, motioning to me with disgust. "I think fatass here needs
to go on a starvation diet! What do you think, honey?" 

"Hmmm...I think you're right," he said, nodding his head. "A couple of days
without food ought to do the trick." Randy turned to me with a leer. "You
hungry, dickhead? I hope you're not too hungry, 'cause you ain't eating till
Monday - and if I catch you sneaking any food, I'm going to get Black Betty out
and tear you a new asshole. You hear me, queer?"

I heard. My blood ran cold at the thought. Black Betty was a huge, ebony,
inhuman dildo, 16 inches long and as fat as the sweet spot on a baseball bat.
Black Betty was reserved for the worst infractions. After a session with Black
Betty, it takes me a whole day to be able to walk again - it’s that bad.

I shuddered when I recalled the last time Randy used Black Betty on me. I had
forgotten to wash and wax his car like he'd instructed, and he raped me for
more than an hour, with one of his dirty sweatsocks stuffed in my mouth to
stifle my screams of pain. 

No, as hungry as I was, I knew that I wouldn't be sneaking any food anytime
soon.

Monica's voice broke my thoughts. "What the fuck are you standing around for,
asswipe? Where's my fucking dinner? I'm starving to death over here! And, by
the way..." she held up her finger and looked at me seriously. "...I'd like a
wine spritzer...that is, if you wouldn't mind bringing me one. Is that too much
trouble? Because, if it is too much trouble, I can have Randy go get it for me.
Of course, if Randy has to get up, he's probably going to be pissed! Let's just
spare you the trouble, what do you say, honey? Why don't you just go ahead and
get me my drink?"

"Y-yes, Monica...right away." I literally ran into the kitchen.

After I’d served dinner, I went into the corner of the room and assumed my
customary mealtime position on my knees. I tried not to watch as my wife and
Randy consumed their gourmet dinner, oblivious to the dull pain of emptiness in
my stomach. They didn't even care enough about my hunger to tease me about it!
They were too busy eating their food, and talking about the basketball game
they were going to tomorrow night.

After dinner I cleared the table as usual. Randy sat back in his chair and lit
up a cigarette. I removed his plate from in front of him, and he blew a cloud
of smoke in my face, causing me to cough. "That was good," he said to me. He
then let out a loud belch and smacked me on the ass. "Now, bitch, clean up and
then meet us in the bedroom. Layin' out in the sun makes me so fucking
horny...me and the little missus have a little business we need to take care
of." He reached over and grabbed Monica by her arm, lifting her to her feet. 

"Are you ready for the ride of your life?" he asked my wife.

"Oh, yeah, baby...come rock my world!" Monica said playfully as she put her
finger into a beltloop in Randy's cut-offs and followed him into the bedroom. 

As I continued to stack up the plates and serving bowls, I watched as Monica
padded barefoot across the carpet behind Randy, her mouth-watering ass
twitching in her neon pink bathing suit.

After I’d taken care of the dishes, I went to the bedroom door and knocked.
"Come on in," I heard my wife's voice call out.

I knelt beside the bed, where my wife lay nude playing with her own nipple. Her
tan lines were even more profound after a day in the sun. Randy was sitting on
the bed, finishing the last of his beer. After he downed his beer, he crushed
the empty can and threw it at me. I couldn't duck in time: the can hit me hard
on the side of my head. "He scores!" Randy said, holding his hands up in
triumph. "That's two points! Now, go grab another one, chubby, and be quick
about it!"

This time, I didn't make the same mistake: "Yes sir, right away, sir." I turned
to Monica. "Uh, would you like something to drink, Monica?"

She chuckled and said to Randy, "see? That starvation diet does work! He's
learning!"

Randy reached over and ran his hand through Monica's hair. "You're a miracle
worker, sweet meat.If you can teach this fat piece of shit something, you ought
to qualify for the Nobel Prize!" 

They both laughed. "Yeah, needledick, you can bring me a beer, too," she said
with a wave of her pretty painted fingers.

I returned with the two beers, then knelt before them at the foot of the bed.
They were just starting to make out, but I dared not watch them. So I knelt on
the bedroom floor, my head bowed, and listened to the two of them breathing
heavily. Presently, I heard the sound of the bed creaking, and I knew that
Randy was making starting to fuck my wife.

After a few minutes of making slow love to Monica, Randy stopped pumping for a
second. He looked over his shoulder at me. "Hey, queer-boy! Get your faggot ass
over here and give me a little motivation."

I knew what that meant. Randy resumed fucking my wife and I quickly put tray
down and made my way over to the bed. With much difficulty, I began licking
Randy's asshole. It was hard to keep my tongue in his ass as he pummeled my
wife, his ass slamming into my face with every upward thrust. As I continued to
French kiss his butt, he quickened his pace, much to Monica's moaning delight.
Finally, with a grunt, I felt his anus tighten on my tongue as he came. After
his orgasm, he collapsed on top of Monica. I continued tenderly licking his ass
- I knew better than to stop.

"That was a good one," Monica finally sighed. She lit a cigarette and brushed
her hair back slowly. "Whew!"

Randy pushed my head away from his butt and rolled over. Monica gave her
cigarette to him and he took a drag. For a moment they lay there smoking, then
Randy looked over at me. "Hey ass-breath! Go run us a shower!" he ordered.

Like a trained monkey, I hopped up from my knees and stepped lively.

WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK WITH PART 3!


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