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From: John Aitek <arkayz_bible@yahoo.com.au>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Pride of a Worthless Housewife {The Arkayz Bible} (MF ds)
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Date: Mon, 16 Jan 2006 21:10:03 -0500
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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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