Message-ID: <11589eli$9805271525@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/11589.txt> From: cwcobblest@aol.com (Cwcobblest) Subject: Hubby Humiliation Bonanza: "Obscure," part eight 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: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <1998052416362300.MAA02481@ladder01.news.aol.com> "Obscure," part 8 (MmF, wimp husband) by c.w. cobblestone BRRRRRRIIIIIIINGGGGGG!!!! The alarm pierced my dreams like a sudden bolt of lightening. I stayed in bed trying to block out the hateful shrill. I just couldn't bring myself to open my eyes. Not just yet. No good morning for me. Just another day in boot camp. Oh, if only I could hit the sleep button and get just a few minutes' rest! But I knew better. I felt my bones creak as I reluctantly sat up and arched my back. Another tough night on my cinder block of a mattress. I hate this fucking bed. It's like sleeping on a goddamn rock. Of course, Miss Princess has a huge, overstuffed king-sized job in her room upstairs. I've laid on it a few times - it's like a cloud, so utterly soft and comfortable. I looked around at the rest of my room. Pitiful. Bums in flophouses probably have better quarters. My room is a far cry from the luxury suite my wife and Luke get to enjoy every night. Their huge bedroom...their silk sheets...their air conditioning...they take it all for granted. I have to share my already-tiny space with stacks of boxes and Natalie's bicycle. I sleep with my head by the dryer, and the smell of stale fabric softener and lint sticks in my nosehair at night. It's terrible down here. In the summertime, it's muggy as hell. And in the winter, I freeze my ass off. At least there's a window right above my bed. At night, when I'm lying here feeling sorry for myself, I sometimes look out into the evening sky and let the stars carry me away... And wish that I could be the one upstairs snuggling up next to my wife... And wish that someday Natalie will finally understand how much I love her... And wish that Luke would choke to death on a chicken bone! But this ain't Disneyland, not my life. And, like it or not, it was time to get started on my day. I washed up in the laundry tub, then pulled the box containing my clothes out from under my bed. Before Luke moved in, I had use of the small closet in my room, but he threw all my clothes on the floor and told me to find a place for them. His "off-season" clothes now occupy the space. Oh, well. I don't have that many outfits anyway. Actually, most of my wardrobe is made up of Luke's hand-me-downs. The man is a real clothes-horse, and he's constantly buying new outfits. He's almost as bad as Natalie. Every now and then, if a shirt gets a stain on it or something, he'll let me have it. Second-hand clothes. Second-hand love. Second-hand life. I snapped out my morning depression session and rushed upstairs to start on breakfast. I'd made eggs the day before, so I decided to fix pancakes this morning. Natalie and Luke like me to mix up the menu from day to day. But at least they usually let me pick the entree. Sometimes they'll tell me when they want something specific, but most of the time they leave it up to me. By now I know what they like and what they don't like. They're not picky eaters, thank goodness, so I have a wide choice of meals to pick from. I still wasn't completely awake as I stood at the stove mixing the batter. I couldn't wait for Natalie and Luke to leave for work, so I could make myself a cup of coffee. They don't like me to have anything to eat or drink before they do in the morning. They say it's disrespectful. It's a stupid rule, I know, but I'd just as soon not get caught breaking it. Wait! Was that Natalie's voice calling for me? I stopped my action with the mixing spoon and frantically pricked up my ears. I cocked my head toward the stairs and stared up at my wife's bedroom door for a few seconds. Nothing. Whew! She's still asleep, I thought. Must've been a noise outside. The adrenaline in my breast started to subside. I carefully poured the pancake mix into the hot griddle and watched as the goo eventually congealed into perfectly-shaped hotcakes. After they were a rich golden-brown, I scooped them up with a spatula and set them on two plates. Then I arranged a nice fruit basket and put it on the tray along with the pancakes. A pitcher of orange juice, a small pot of coffee and four slices of toast completed the ensemble. On the way to the bedroom, I ducked outside and grabbed the morning paper. Sometimes Luke has time to read the paper, and sometimes he doesn't...but I know I'd better make sure it's available for him every morning, just in case. Balancing the heavy tray in my arms, I carefully negotiated the stairs and approached their bedroom. I set the tray on the carpet outside the door, then quietly knocked. I heard my wife's cranky voice call out: "Come back in 10 minutes!" I waited outside the door and watched the hallway clock. After the required 10 minutes, I knocked again. No answer. I opened the door a crack, then picked up the breakfast tray. As I nudged the door wide open, I saw that they were both under the covers, still asleep. I set their food onto the small table in the adjacent breakfast nook, then opened the drapes to allow the sun to come in through the window and welcome their day. They both stirred as the bright rays penetrated the darkness. Natalie yawned and shielded her sleepy eyes from the sun, while Luke grabbed the headboard and stretched languidly. "Good morning!" I said to them in my most pleasant voice. Neither of them acknowledged my greeting as they continued to shake off the long night's cobwebs. I stood there submissively and watched my wife and her lover finally rouse out of bed. Luke got up and headed for the bathroom, while Natalie started doing her morning stretching. "What's my schedule look like today, Brian?" she asked as she bent down and touched her toes. I retrieved the huge planner Natalie keeps in the den, and turned to the correct page. "You have the arraignment on the Collins case at 10," I reported. "Then you have lunch with Mr. Merideth at noon. After that, there's a brainstorming session at Mr. Higginson's office on the Collins case. That's at 3. Oh, and you're supposed to have a late meeting with Janet Roland, from the defender's office." Luke came sauntering back into the bedroom scratching his balls. "What about me?" he asked between yawns. I turned to the next page and began reading. "You're due in court at 9, sir. After that, you have a golf game with John Matthews from the insurance company." "Aw, hell, I don't wanna have to deal with that asshole today," Luke grimaced. He stretched again. "Oh, well, fuck it - go run me a nice, hot shower, Brian," he ordered. After I ran Luke's shower, I went down to the laundry room and retrieved the outfits for the day. I hung both Luke's suit and Natalie's dress on the back of the door, then I packed Luke's duffle bag with an extra outfit for his golf game. They both seemed to be in a hurry, so I just kind of stayed out of their way while they got ready for work. Nothing much was said to me as they got dressed. Luke had me pour him a cup of coffee, but neither of them bothered to eat the breakfast I'd worked so hard to prepare. There wasn't time. I followed them down the stairs and watched as they disappeared out the front door without so much as a goodbye. I sadly parted the living room drapes and watched both of them get in their expensive cars and drive away. NEXT UP: NATALIE DROPS A BOMB ON OUR HERO! -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>