Message-ID: <11591eli$9805271525@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/11591.txt>
From: cwcobblest@aol.com (Cwcobblest)
Subject: Hubby Humiliation Bonanza: "Obscure," part nine
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: <1998052416365700.MAA28217@ladder03.news.aol.com>

"Obscure," part 9 (MmF, wimp husband)
by c.w. cobblestone

I'll never forget it; it was a blustery January night and the wind was
screaming like an angry tea kettle outside the kitchen window. I'd just
finished washing the dinner dishes when my wife broke my heart forever.

"Brian, come in here."

I'd heard that order a thousand times before, but this time my wife's tone was
different somehow. It was almost...gentle.

I dried my hands and hurried to the living room. Natalie and Luke were both
standing in the middle of the room wearing serious expressions. I wondered what
was up, expecting, as always, the worst.

Natalie started pacing slowly as I approached her...almost as if she were about
to address a jury. 

"Brian, I have some news for you, and I'm afraid you're not going to like it
very much." She regarded me with a strange expression, a mix of wry pity and a
devilish, little-girl amusement. 

"Now, Brian, I know you've really tried to be a good husband throughout our
marriage," she began. "But, you have to tell the truth: this hasn't been much
of a marriage, has it?"

"Uh..." I tried to find the words. This was a dangerous subject, and I didn't
dare say the wrong thing. "Uh, well, Natalie, maybe we don't have what you'd
call a conventional marriage, but I still love you very much...and..."

My wife waved her hand sharply, cutting me off.

"That's the problem, Brian," she grimaced. "I know you love me - that's not the
question. The problem is, I don't love you. I never did. Marrying you was a
mistake. We were young, Brian, and we didn't know what we were doing. I had
just been through a rotten relationship with Keith, and then you came along. It
was nice to have a man treat me like a queen for a change. I've always been
attracted to rough men, and at the time I needed a break from all that. So I
found you, a man who fawned all over me. It was okay at first, but after awhile
it started to make me ill."

As Natalie paused to take a breath, I looked over at Luke. He was standing by
the fireplace, hands in pockets, taking in every word. When he caught
eye-contact with me, a feeling of complete terror swept through my soul.
Suddenly I knew exactly what Natalie was leading up to.

My wife continued handing down her execution sentence. "Brian, we can't keep up
this charade any longer," she said firmly. "I'm tired of having to lie about
things at work. Everyone knows Luke and I are having an affair, I'm sure, but
if they found out that he was living here, with you in the basement...my entire
career would be ruined. Not to mention Luke's."

Her words simmered in my brain like a hit of LSD. That's the closest I can come
to describing how I felt just then; it was like I was on an acid trip. The
walls were melting. The floor felt like a rickety roller coaster, and I heard
the distant call of hungry coyotes wailing somewhere in my head. I looked at
Natalie's sweet face to try to calm myself, but even she looked surreal, her
green eyes glowing like a sneaky cat in the night.

Then she finally came out with it: "I want a divorce, Brian."

The flood hit me all at once, and I began to throw up, right on the living room
carpet.

Natalie was furious. She stepped forward and kicked me right in the head with
the toe of her sneaker. I saw stars for a second, then another wave of nausea
hit me and I began throwing up again.

"You disgusting piece of shit!" Natalie screamed. "What the fuck is wrong with
you, Brian? I tell you I want a divorce and you start puking all over the
goddamn place?!!? Go get a towel and clean that nasty shit off my carpet. MOVE
YOUR SORRY ASS!"

"It stinks in here," Luke said as I snapped out of it and jumped up to obey my
wife's command. "Let's go upstairs."

After the carpet was cleaned, I reported to Natalie and Luke in the bedroom.

Luke was already undressed and in bed, while my wife was in the bathroom
brushing her teeth. Luke looked up at me and smiled. His face looked like a
Nazi skull. 

"Natalie didn't tell you the whole story, Brian," he said, flashing those
perfect teeth he liked to show off so much. "After I draw up the divorce
papers, guess what? There's gonna be a weddin'."

That remark should have been devastating. But nothing could hurt me now. I was
like a pin-cushion with one too many holes in it. There was nothing left to
penetrate.

Natalie sauntered into the bedroom drying her face with a hand towel. Luke
began singing, "Here comes the bride," and she held up her towel like a bouquet
of flowers and began mimicking a march down the aisle. 

When she got near the bed, Luke grabbed her by the leg and started pulling.
Natalie giggled as Luke's iron grip made her fall onto the bed. Luke rolled her
over and pinned her shoulders to the pillows, then stuck his tounge in her
mouth.

Between kisses, my wife informed me that the wedding was scheduled for June.
Again, I felt nothing. Just a black hole where my heart once was.

So this is what you get when you sell your soul to the devil. There's always an
evil trick at the end of the story, isn't there?

I found my voice somehow. "So, when do you want me to move out, Natalie?" I
asked. For the first time in years, I felt almost equal to my wife. I guess I
was gearing myself up for a new start in life, and I didn't want to have to go
through this turmoil again. Someday, I thought, maybe I'd find a woman who
would love ME for a change. Of course, I'd never find anyone I loved as much as
Natalie. I knew that. But maybe I could learn to love someone else
eventually...someone who would appreciate my love...

Natalie's next words totally knocked those thoughts out of my head: "Who said
anything about you moving out, asshole? I don't want you to move out. I didn't
say I wanted you to stop being my slave; I just don't want to be married to
your ass anymore."

Despite her cutting words, I was thrilled beyond belief! What in the world was
I thinking earlier? How could I ever "learn to love" another woman? Never mind
the devil - I sold my soul to this woman! For all I know, maybe she is an agent
of Satan. Either way, I knew now that there could never be an escape from her
web.

Natalie explained her plan: "I can tell everyone that you can't find a job, so
I'm letting you sleep in the basement until you get on your feet. That's not so
odd; no one would even raise an eyebrow. I'll tell 'em that even though our
marriage didn't work out, we're all still friends. They'll buy it, I know."

I was watching my wife's beautiful lips move as she spoke. "Well, I'm glad
that's all out of the way now. You should've been expecting this, Brian. I
mean, the writing was on the wall when Luke moved in with me, don't you think?"

"Yes, Natalie."

My soon-to-be ex-wife smirked at me. "You're such a putz, Brian. Have a
backbone, for chrissakes!" Luke guffawed loudly at that one.

Natalie scooted up on the bed and wrapped herself in the fluffy comforter.

"Now, then, get outta here and let us go to sleep," she said, stifling a yawn.
"I'll tell you more about the wedding in the morning."

"Natalie?" I whispered.

"Yes, Brian?"

"Th-thank you...for letting me...stay."

Natalie looked at Luke and smiled. "Don't thank me, Brian - thank him. Luke's
the one who said you could stay. After all, he is going to be my husband, and
the decision was up to him! So thank him; not every man would agree to let his
wife's ex-husband stay in his house!"

The irony of that statement wasn't lost on me. I looked at Luke, who was lying
with his hands propped up behind his head, a smug look on his face.

I hated to say it, but I knew I had to: "Th-thank you sir...for letting me
stay."

"No problem, dickhead," he shot back flippantly. "We like having you around,
Brian. I don't do the house-cleaning thing, and neither does Natty. So it's
nice having you here to take care of that end of it. I'd hate to have to hire a
maid - besides, I could never find a maid who'd suck my asshole the way you do,
Brian.

"Now get the fuck outta here, slave, and turn the light off on the way out."



WE'LL BE BACK WITH MORE CARTOONS RIGHT AFTER THESE VERY IMPORTANT MESSAGES
ABOUT BREAKFAST CEREAL WITH LOTS OF SUGAR IN IT!





-- 
+----------------' 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>