Wal Mart arrived in our town several years ago with American flags waving, apple pie, and much fanfare. With all his money, good ol' Sam Walton-- who was still alive then-- wasn't even generous enough to provide the requisite commercial coffins for all the old f****y owned businesses he killed in downtown Angel Hills, and every other small town in the midwest. He hasn't killed everything else in our already shriveling town yet; there are several defiant soldiers still writhing in their death throes. There's still Hansen's Lumber and Hardware, because Wal Mart doesn't sell lumber, still Kimis... Continue»
She was a grown woman and she knew she was beautiful. Well, at least for her age she still was. Friends of her who turned forty weren’t as good looking as she was. That’s why she enjoyed their company. She was the queen amongst them, when they went to a café she would get the looks, the important looks.
She knew she was to good for her husband. When they met, he was promising, average looking at least, and had enough money to buy the house where they still lived. But after twenty years of marriage, Michael not only lost his smile for her. He was getting fat, his hair fell out and was only present on his chest and back, as well as his lower half. She guessed that, because she hadn’t seen him naked for almost three years now.
In fact, she wouldn’t have noticed if he was naked at all, she didn’t look at him anymore.
She had made other plans long ago. Instead of looking at her husband, she watched the postman, Miguel as he smiled to her every day. She looked at the young cashier, Tom, who turned red and looked at his shoes instead when she came by. She even decided to take a peek at Mr. Burroghs, her former Boss once a week. He was not the best lover she ever had, but he did his job well, and in remembering that she did also, when she still worked for him, it was only fair. He even made small presents to her, which she enjoyed. A neclace, a pair of earrings, nothing big, but it was a nice gesture.
The phone rang.
“Hello? Yes, Marsha, how nice of you to call.” - “Tonight? Oh well, ok. I’ll be ready at seven.” - “Yes, till later, dear.”
She hung up the receiver. Without looking inside the living room she went past the open door and said to Michael, who was watching TV:
“I’m going out with Marsha and some of the girls tonight.”
Michael gave a grumble.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
She didn’t hear an answer, maybe she didn’t get one. Michael was watching sports, that always made him act like a zombie. She wondered, if he would even notice if she went out or never came back. Tonight she would not get back home, she decided. She would find a hot young guy and ride him trough till morning! She grinned while fixing her hair.
The white lace was looking fabulous on her, made her look even younger. Not too much make up, not like Marsha and Grace did it all the time. It made them look hilarious. Tonight she would be the Queen, again. “Queen Anne, ready to reign the men” she said to herself in the mirror. She was quite satisfied with herself, when the doorbell rang.
Michael didn’t look up as Anne went out.
They were four, with Anne the Queen. Marsha, who looked like a cockatoo because of her irritating hairstile and way too much colours on her. Grace, who was getting ungraceful chubby as getting on in ages. Agnes, whoose long slender figure made Anne think of a ghost. On top of that, she was always wearing white “to look innocent” as she said. Yes, there was no doubt, Anne was the queen among them. This evening would be easy as pie.
While entering the café, queen Anne saw him (or her) at once. She was paralyzed for a moment. That person standing over there was the most beautiful human being she had ever seen in her whole life. She couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, she was enraptured by this androgynous, outworldly beauty.
Marsha had to give her a push towards their table. Queen Anne sat down, still looking over there. This man - she decided it had to be a man, otherwise her hopes for tonight would be lost - was just standing there, talking softly to another, rather shady figure. Anne couldn’t make out the other mans appearance, for he wore a coat and a hat, and was standing in the dim corner of the room, but she sure hoped to find another beauty which she could invite together with this gorgeous stud over there.
Anne wasn’t listening to her friends making conversation, she wasn’t aware the waiter peered at her as she didn’t make an order. She also wasn’t sure if the others saw those two persons, and it didn’t matter. Time stood still as she watched. But suddenly... suddenly the man moved.
He moved towards her, and gave her a look wich nearly let her dirty her lacy underwear. Then the second vanished ... and he moved out of the café. He was gone.
Anne felt she was ready to cry. She had to go after him, find out where he lived, approach him to make him belong to her, for ever. She stood up, leaving her startled friends behind as well as her jacket and handbag. It all didn’t matter, she just had to find that man.
Outside the café was nobody. Anne ran quickly trough the neighbouring streets, but she didn’t find him. She wasready to let everything go for him, to throw away her life she lived so far. For hours she searched the city. It began to rain, but she still ran trough the streets, freezing cold and not sure if the water on her cheeks was rain or tears or both. She was desperate.
After two more hours she decided to go home. Maybe that man would come to the café again, maybe they could meet another time. But maybe, he wasn’t even interested in her. He didn’t smile, like Miguel did. He didn’t turn red like Tom or offered her a drink, like Mr. Burroghs would’ve done. Pondering she walked home slowly.
When she arrived, she couldn’t find her key. Of course, her handbag was still left in that godforsaken café. She was angry now. Angry and cold and wet. She decided to let it all out on Michael. In the end it was his fault alltogether. She knocked hardly on the front door.
Nothing happened. She waited another five minutes, than knocked again.
“Stupid oaf,” she thought. “Must’ve fallen asl**p in front of the damn TV”.
She knocked again and listened carefully on the door. She could hear something. At first she thought it was Michaels snoring, but it sounded kind of strange. Anne walked trough the wet and dark garden to peek trough a window into the living room. She gasped.
Michael was there, and he was naked.
He lay strained on the floor, his hands an feet bound and fastened onto heavy furniture. The light was dim, but bright enough to see. Michael was panting heavily and biting on the gag inside his mouth. He wasn’t alone. That man was there.
He kneeled beside Michael and stroke slowly over his body, exploring every inch of it. He smiled, and Michael gave a wanting mourn. He looked at the stranger with pleading eyes, and stroke his head gently at the mans hand when it came near his face. He groaned trough the gag when the man softly caressed his erection, and gave a slight push against the big plug in his ass. Entering it had been painful, but his Master had been so gentle this time. Now his ass was getting a little numb, but it didn’t hurt anymore.
He enjoyed the feeling of the mans soft, warm hand on his body, it nearly made him ignore the pain inside his strained limbs. The ties were cutting inside his flesh, his hands were icecold and already lightblue coloured. Michael ignored it as best as he could. If he was there, if his Master was near him and cared for him, he would endure everything.
The Master smiled gently and spoke with his soft, dark voice.
“You are beautiful.”
Michaels eyes filled with tears of joy, as his Master bowed forward to kiss him. He could feel his lips softly pressed onto his own around the hard gag. The scent of Masters hair was marvellous, and Michael breathed deeply while bending towards his beloved Masters strokes.
The Master gave him the satisfaction to breathe after all. Michael remembered a time, when he had to wear this iron mask, and could neither see nor breathe properly. He wasn’t kissed either all that time, it was so seldom. Now the Master was so good to him, and Michael was ready to give him every joy he desired.
After that unending kiss, Master layed his hand over Michaels eyes, Michael closed them. He knew he had to do it to please him, he trusted him. He feld the gag move out of his mouth and sobbed in pain. The leather had cut into his mouth corners and his jaw was all stiff from stretching it into this unnatural position so long. After a few seconds of silent anguish, Michael felt a warm, slightly salty and very hard cock shoven roughly into his dried out mouth. He nearly choked from the hard pushes his Master gave him as he rammed his dick into Michaels mouth. Michael squirmed and tried to scream, but he couldn’t. His Master was hard and painful, he drove his erection into Michaels mouth again and again. It hurt and Michael was afraid to throw up. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to behave.
He was also afraid he’d lose consciousness. Just a little longer, he told himself, do it for Master, please him, you can do it Michael, you can do it.
Suddenly, as rough as before, he was released. His Master yanked his cock out of Michaels mouth, who immediately fought for air. Then another pain nearly tore him apart.
Michael screamed as Master ripped out the plug from his ass. It was big. Too big. But Michael had taken it, as he always did, when Master decided to visit and bring a toy. The empty pain inside his tortured ass didn’t last long, as he whimpered he was suddenly filled again with a hard, warm erection, wich tossed cruel and burning hot inside him. Michael screamed, in pain and lust simultaneously. The Master fucked him hard and ruthless.
Michael began to like it, to love it. He screamed “Master, Master, aaaaaaaaaaah, yes please give it to me, let it out on me, uunhh, give it your all!”
And he recieved a heavy slap for that, while being fucked hardly. It burned on his cheek, but Michael liked it. He groaned with lust and pain. He wanted to shout something again to have another slap, but Master was quicker than him. With a swift swing of his hand he ripped loose Michaels footbondings, and thrusted his servants legs forward, curling him up under himself.
As he felt the sudden pierce in his legs, wich took his breath away, as his Master fucked him deeper and harder inside than ever, as the sudden change of position made his bl**d shoot back into his hands Micheal could not bear it, he burst out in tears of agony, and while he heard the heavy breath of his master, and felt the warmth spread into his tortured ass, he opened his eyes, he couldn’t help it. Time seemed to have stopped for a split second, he could see his Master, as he was above him, with his eyes closed. He was beautiful, his face like an angel as he came off inside him. All the pain was forgotten, unimportant. Michael knew he was being fucked by a god who came down from heaven for him.
Then, Michael passed out, smiling in perfect happiness.
When he awoke, he lay in his bed. His body was still messed up, but he was covered with a warm blanket and felt so cozy and loved, he couldn’t help but smile for himself. He would never forget the peek he had at his Master, never forget the angel.
Like this, he would happily stay married to that stupid bitch Anne. As long as she went out to see whomever, he would be with Master, and be happy.
(btw, I think the woman received her handbag from Marsha and slept on the couch from now on)