Date: Wed, 11 Feb 2004 12:10:36 -0000
From: Kathy Smokes <kathysmokes1@hotmail.com>
Subject: TG Story: "The House Whore Part 7 (of 7)" by Kathy Morris

THE HOUSE-WHORE

By

Kathy Morris

Copyright 2002, Kathy Morris

Part 7

Susan's revelry was short-lived as she heard the toilet flush in Uncle
Dan's bathroom and realised that she did not want to bear the brunt again
of her husband's anger again so, standing, she took her first, small step
towards the door. With her head thrust back by the posture collar Susan
could only feel the rapid tug and hear the sharp "snap" from the short
chain connecting her ankles, as he took a tiny step, realising that it only
allowed her to place each foot before the other in ridiculous, five inch
paces. With her arms bound to her waist and back, Susan had no means of
assisting her balance as she teetered across the room to the door in her
six inch high stilettos, and several times as she took diminutive steps,
she nearly tripped.

Eventually Susan made it to the door and opening it, tiptoed in her heels
out onto the landing. As an afterthought she turned precariously on her
heels and closed Dan's bedroom door behind her then, with her right hand
resting on the broad, polished wooden banister, she started to move along
the landing to the head of the stairs. As she walked, the short chain
between her ankles clicked and clacked as she minced along the landing with
aching feet, taking tiny, tippy-toed steps, which made her feel so
vulnerable and yet at the same time added to her need for being subservient
and feminine. She realised with mounting excitement that she was taking
some pleasure from being so defenceless and weak, caused by her restrictive
corset and bindings and the extremely high heels of her shoes.

Making the top of the stairs, Susan tentatively tried to ascend, but
realised that the chain that had restricted her steps would also prevent
her from walking down the stairs. She thought about her predicament and
then, solving the problem, lowered herself to her knees. She twisted her
hips and sat down on the rough pile of the carpet. The floor covering
beneath her bottom aggravated her soreness and it felt to Susan as though a
thousand red-hot needles were sticking into her flesh. Resigned to having
to endure the discomfort to her skin caused by the carpet, Susan swung her
legs round and placed her feet on the stairs several steps down. Still
hanging on to the wooden upright poles of the banister with her right,
partially free hand, she inched her bottom forwards over the rough carpet
and placed it on the next step. She lifted her legs and placed her heels on
the next step down.

By the time that Susan had finally reached the bottom of the stairs her
bottom was sore, not just from the punishment which Uncle Dan had given
her, but from shuffling down the stairs, and she wished that her new
husband would have allowed her to have worn panties. As she descended the
stairs, Susan had tried very hard not to ladder her stockings and was
pleased with herself that she had suffered none when she reached the bottom
and, with great difficulty, adjusted her right stocking and suspenders,
ensuring that, as Dan had ordered her, her seams were straight and
perfectly running up the centre of her ankles, calves and thighs.

Susan teetered unsteadily from the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen and
paused in the hallway to observe her appearance in the mirror. She was not
unpleasantly surprised at her reflection. With her head held back by the
studded, black posture collar, Susan had to bend as well as she was able in
her corset, in order to fully appraise her dress, makeup and bindings. The
gag in her mouth made her look like a grotesque, laughing clown, Susan
thought, but, she could not deny to herself, that she was becoming used to
the device and that the rubber ball had a not too unpleasant taste and
smell though the thing did make her jaw ache. As she swallowed saliva
caused by the ball-gag rubbing on her tongue, Susan slurped noisily. Not a
very feminine sound, she thought primly, but I am Dan's wife and if he
wishes to keep me this way, then it's his right. She heard a loud laugh
come from the kitchen, and realised that her men were already in the
kitchen waiting for their breakfasts, so hurried as fast as her tiny steps
and high heels allowed.

When Susan hobbled into the kitchen, she saw that Grandfather, Uncle Ben
and Uncle Ted were already sat at the table. They turned their head as they
heard her stiletto heels on the floor tiles, but, as if every day she went
around dressed as she was now, they resumed their conversation after,
almost casually, saying "Good morning!" to her. She tried to smile at them
but couldn't with the ball-gag in her mouth, so nodded her head and tried
to make her eyes smile at them as she went to the cooker to start preparing
breakfast.

With one hand completely useless to her and able to only partially use the
other, Susan had a very difficult time trying to cook. The corset and wide,
leather belt tight around her waist prevented her from bending very much
and with the posture collar around her neck, she learned that in order to
see what she was cooking, she had to bend at the knees. She also had a
terrible time trying to keep her balance while she prepared the meal, as
her heels kept slipping on the smooth tiles of the floor and the
restricting ankle chain meant that she could not step out to regain
it. Susan was forced on several occasions to drop the frying pan with a
loud clatter onto the cooker and cling onto the sink or worktops. It was
probably more by luck, rather than by trying, she thought, that she didn't
spill or spoil any of the breakfast.

Susan was nearly close to tears by the time she had made breakfast and laid
the table, as none of her men seemed to mind in the least her obvious
discomfort and awkwardness as she stumbled around noisily with plates and
cutlery, and, what was worse, she thought, none had offered to help; they
just carried on chatting and virtually ignored her.

The men only mentioned Susan's name when Dan, her husband for the day,
entered the kitchen. It was Ted who spoke to him first, asking him why
their Susie was late with the breakfast.

Ben and the others all wanted to know also and asked him, with Frank
suggesting that the reason she'd been late arriving, was because they'd
been having an early morning shag. The men laughed at his suggestion, but
Dan told them in a matter-of-fact manner that the reason she was late was
that she had been in some need of being reminded about her marital duties.

Frank laughed and said, "There! I told you, he's been shagging his bride."

Dan smiled and shook his head joining in with the general laughter that
erupted at the table. "No, no, not yet." he said laughingly. "Do you think
that my mattress caused those stripes on her arse?" he asked mockingly.

Susan blushed as she heard the men discussing her and as she realised that
she bore the marks from her punishment. It was with an almost reflex action
at hearing their talk about her, that she felt at her sore bottom cheeks
with her right hand and traced the risen wheals with her fingertips.

Uncle Dan saw Susan feeling her bottom and said loudly, "Stop bloody
playing with yourself, woman and get us some breakfast!"

Susan almost jumped at hearing his thunderous voice and busied herself with
serving the meal.

After serving the men, one at a time because of her forced disabilities,
she took her own plate and set it down at the place she had set for her own
meal.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Dan asked, his voice full
of menace.

Susan almost dropped her plate at hearing his voice but managed to
carefully put it down and looked enquiringly at him. She noticed that none
of her other Uncles or Grandfather were in the least bit perturbed by Dan's
demeanour or his words as he said, "I'm your lord and fucking master,
today, aren't I?" he asked, and without waiting for any acknowledgment by
Susan, he answered for her and continued, "Yes, that's bloody well right, I
am, so," he paused as if relishing the moment, "get your slag's arse round
here and see to my bloody needs!" he thundered.

Susan walked as fast as she could round the table and stood at Dan's right
shoulder.

He said, "Stand up straight and don't move!" he ordered. Chewing on a
mouthful of bacon and eggs he turned his head to make sure that she was
positioned correctly. He nodded to her and resumed his breakfast.

Susan stood obediently and listened to the small talk and clatter of
cutlery around the table. Her calves and feet ached terribly as she stood
behind Dan, and she thought that she must look like some strange type of
guard, standing to attention, her head thrust back and chin up in a haughty
posture.

Dan reached out and tenderly caressed her leg, tracing his finger over the
smooth, shiny, black nylon to get her attention. "Get me some more toast!"
he ordered simply.

Susan immediately complied with his demand and teetered unsteadily across
the kitchen to place bread into the toaster. She heard him say to the
others, "If she does everything that she's told as quickly as that, we're
going to get on just famously," and joined in with their knowing chuckles
and smiles of agreement.

She brought her husband the fresh toast when it was ready and resumed her
position at his shoulder. She felt her tummy rumble and hoped that Dan
didn't hear it. She thought that Dan would most likely remove her gag after
breakfast and then allow her to eat her breakfast. She smiled inwardly as
she thought that he probably just liked her to appear very dutiful by
positioning her at his shoulder in the somewhat bizarre posture which she
was made to assume, and that really she didn't mind too much pandering to
his desires.

She felt his hand lightly brush her leg again as he said, "Butter me some
toast, slag!" so she dutifully obeyed him and set to trying to butter the
toast using her one hand and trying not to look foolish with her ineptness.

Dan looked at Susan as she attempted to butter his toast and admired her
uncomfortable posture and exaggerated makeup. He smiled to himself, pleased
that she had accepted her role as his servile wife quickly, though, he
pondered somewhat ruefully, she might have been a little more unaccepting
and he would have then had to bend her will with the application of harsher
punishment. The thought pleased him and he felt a stirring in his prick.

Casually, as his slut wife continued buttering toast, he ran his fingers up
and down the backs of Susie's legs; feeling the gossamer thin, smooth
nylon. He traced the seams of her stockings and toyed with the creases that
formed at the backs of her knees. He liked the feel of her stockings and
his prick hardened more as she teetered slightly, his tickling fingers
still tracing circles on her smooth, black shiny legs, and her heels
clattering on the hard floor tiles as she tried to keep her balance.

He looked at Susan's pretty eyes, watching her incredibly long eyelashes
fluttering as she concentrated on her work, and said to her, "When I've got
my work done for the day, slag, you and I are going for a little walk." He
watched her face to see her reaction and continued. "It's such a nice day,
it'd be a shame not to enjoy it, eh, my little slag?" he asked.

Susan's eyes met his and she bobbed her body in an exaggerated nod to show
him that she didn't want to displease him, and then stood up straightening
her legs, her present task completed.

"Right, then," he said pleased that she accepted his plan, "make sure that
you get all your housework done so we can take a little stroll and enjoy
the sunshine. I'll get back about half past three."

Susan listened as Dan told her of their plans for the day and wondered how
on earth she was going to be able to go for anything other than a "little
walk" as he called it, when she was clearly not able to do anything else in
the shoes she wore and the damned ankle chain.

Even though she realised that she really did want to please her husband in
every way she possibly could, her cruelly arched feet were already aching
terribly and her ankles and calves were trembling from her restrained
posture. He'll take off the chain and let my arms free, she thought, when
we go for the walk, and, she hoped, let me wear some other shoes with
smaller heels.

She pictured herself small and fragile, walking hand in hand down a country
lane with Dan, his six feet six frame towering protectively over her, his
smiling face beaming down at her, and birdsong drifting from the
hedgerows. She realised that in her thoughts, she was still dressed only in
her black corset and stockings, her bottom proudly bare, and they walked
holding hands, and the thought thrilled her. She imagined herself sat on
top of a five-barred gate at the side of a field, Dan holding her as she
reached up to kiss him tenderly.

Susan's eyes opened with a start and heard the loud "smack" at the same
time as her brain registered the pain in her bottom.

"What time are we going for a walk?" he almost shouted, poising his large,
fleshy hand ready to smack her bottom again. "Did you bloody hear me?"

Susan tried to speak, to tell him that she understood they were to go for a
walk at three thirty. She tried to tell him but the gag muffled and
distorted the words into unintelligible sounds.

He smacked her bare bottom cheek again and watched the firm flesh redden
quickly. "What the fucking hell did you say?" he asked, enjoying her
discomfort and inability to speak.

"Meeeeethtththththhthgghhhhhhaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkffffgeeeeekkkkkkkkkkiiiiii,"
she replied, feeling the stinging pain rising in her buttocks.

"Good, girl," he told her, as if her garbled, choking reply was spoken
clearly. "I want you ready and waiting when I get home, and don't be late,"
he reminded her, adding, "like you fucking was this morning, slag."

Susan bobbed her body and shook her head and wobbled as she tried to keep
her balance as her heels slipped on the tiles.

"Right, slag," he said after looking round the table and confirmed that his
father and brothers had finished their breakfasts, "we want some coffee, so
get cracking!" he ordered and spanked her bottom once to get her moving.

Susan teetered across the kitchen, feeling the radiating warmth in her
bottom and started to spoon coffee into the mugs. Her hand shook and she
spilled some of the brown granules.

"Careful, lass, don't go wasting money like that!" she heard her
Grandfather chide her.

"No, slag, you'd better not!" Dan warned, smiling as he saw her frustration
at spilling the coffee. "You'll clean it all up like a good wifey, won't
you?" he added.

Susan was pouring hot water from the kettle into the mugs but she managed
to bob her body in an exaggerated nod to show that she'd heard them.

"Hurry, up then girl!" she heard Grandfather say, "We've wasted enough
bloody time this morning as it is."

Susan carefully carried a mug of coffee back to the table and placed it
down for Dan, then returned to bring Grandfather's mug. Dan smiled and said
to his brothers with a wink, "It's good to get special treatment, isn't
it?" They agreed with him as they got out cigarette packets and began
lighting them.

"Can she have one, Ben?" asked his brother.

"'Course, she can, that is if she wants one," Dan affirmed.

Susan was picking up the spilt coffee granules with her finger and thumb
and putting them back in the jar. She was close to tears with frustration,
as she only wanted to please her men and wished that she had the use of
both hands so she could get the job done properly. She heard Ben speak and
turned from her task.

"Leave that a bit," he said, "you can clean it up later. Come and have a
cigarette," he said holding one out for her.

That's nice of him, she thought, and teetered over to him to accept the
proffered cigarette. She took it from Ben and waited for him to offer a
light. As he did so, Susan reached up and tried to place the cigarette
between her lips, forgetting about the ball-gag in her mouth. Realising the
futility of being offered the cigarette, she moaned with frustration and
heard Dan and a couple of his brothers laugh.

Ben was not to be outdone however, and took back Susan's cigarette. He lit
it for her and stood up saying, "'Say, Jack, ever watched a bird smoke like
this before?"

Uncle Jack watched as Ben held the cigarette and pushed it into the corner
of Susan's mouth, forcing the filter between the black, rubber ball and the
lipstick coated flesh and trapping it under the thin strap that held the
gag in place. "There!" he said pleased with himself, "At least she can have
a smoke now, Dan," and sat back down admiring his own ingenuity.

Susan could just see the cigarette through the corner of her eye and
breathed in the soothing smoke. She nearly choked as saliva slithered down
her throat and she coughed and spluttered. Thick, blue cigarette smoke
exploded through her nostrils and she saw Dan laughing. She composed
herself and tried to take the cigarette between outstretched fingers in a
reflex action. She could not reach it and moaned again with frustration as
she carefully inhaled the smoke slowly into her lungs and realised that she
would have to exhale through her nose.

All the men were watching her now, especially Jack and Ben, and she saw the
smug look on Dan's face as he informed them, "Ah, there then, you didn't
think that the bitch would be able to smoke like that, did you?" he teased.

Jack shook his head as he saw faint whisps of cigarette smoke issue from
Susan's nostrils.

Ben said, "I must admit, our kid, I'm surprised that she seems to have got
the hang of it," He had to agree with Dan that he didn't think that Susan
would have been able to do it.

As if to prove to her men that she was not going to let any of them down,
least of all her husband of the day, Susan breathed in deeply again,
relishing the thick smoke, and exhaled slowly once more, this time without
choking on the ball-gag. She breathed again and the cigarette smoke filled
her lungs. She coughed and spluttered and choked as her lungs were filled
with smoke once more and she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes were
closed and tears ran down her cheeks as she felt the cigarette removed from
the corner of her mouth. She coughed and spluttered again but was grateful
that she could breathe fresh air once more.

"Ah, Ben you're too bloody soft with her," she heard Dan's mocking voice
inform him as laughter broke out around the table at seeing Susan coughing
and hopping around in her high heels as she tried to keep her
balance. "Pull yourself together and stop making such a bloody spectacle of
yourself!" she heard him order as tears clouded her vision and she coughed
convulsively again. "Stand up straight," he barked, "and come here!" she
heard him shout trying to compose herself.

Susan stood up straight and tippy-toed as fast as she could to stand at
Dan's right shoulder. He smacked her bottom hard and her knees bent as she
felt the pain surge though her already sore bottom.

"Don't you ever fucking show me up like that again!" he warned. "Now get
the table cleared and start doing something fucking useful!" he ordered.

Susan wanted to say, "Yes, Love, anything to please you, Love, but please
don't smack my bottom again," but she could only think it. She bobbed her
body to acknowledge the order and picked up his empty plate, carrying it
carefully over to the sink.

As Susan collected the dirty plates one by one and placed them in the sink,
she jealously watched her Grandfather and Uncles finish their coffee and
cigarettes.

Susan wished that she was able to have a cup of coffee and enjoy a
cigarette as she felt her tummy rumble with hunger, and hoped that Dan was
pleased with her as she accepted his, to her mind, unnecessary bondage. It
would have been much easier and quicker, she thought, for her to get
breakfast if he had allowed her to be able to use both hands. She didn't
really mind the pain in her feet caused by the highest heels she'd ever
worn, she pondered, getting used to the heels was all a part of being a
very feminine woman, she reasoned with herself, and she was getting used to
the ball-gag as she learned to relax her mouth so that her jaw didn't ache
as much and, she added, feeling very exposed and vulnerable was satisfying
in a strange way, she realised, but it was such a pain having to do
everything with one hand!

Oh, well, she thought as she eventually cleared the table, I'm Dan's wife
and a wife has to do everything she can to please him, so, she reasoned, if
he wants me trussed up like this, then I must just accept it if it keeps
him happy.


Author's Note:

I hope that you've enjoyed reading this story - it gave a great deal of
pleasure to write it! If you wish to email me your comments, you can email
me at kathysmokes1@hotmail.com and please feel free to visit my extensive
website at http://fetish.freegayspace.com/kathysmokes1/index.htm