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Domestic Bliss! By Throne (17 Pages)
🕑 Added 2020-04-22 23:21:51 +0000 UTCDomestic Bliss!
By Throne
© 2019-2020 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.
DOMESTIC BLISS
by Throne
Gemma had finished the wash and was ironing the last of John's shirts. She had slipped into a submissive reverie, falling deep under the spell of her household chores. It was especially satisfying to her to spend hours in her neat, traditional, maid's uniform, working like this, completing one job and moving on to the next. While drifting happily along in that mood she often forgot the time when she used to be Jim Alberts. That had been before she married Crystal and taken her last name, White. Even before they wed, he had confessed his penchant for dressing feminine to her. She welcomed this practice and used it to gradually take over his life, which was fine by him. Now, after three years of marriage they had settled into an arrangement that worked splendidly for both of them. Crystal didn't have to perform any of the traditional household duties and Gemma, now her maid, had to do them all.
As the slender sissy with pale blond hair put the last of John's shirts on a hanger, she sighed contentedly. It was so exciting that her wife had taken a lover. There had been brief flings in the past but this one was in its sixth month. Crystal was a shapely beauty with a sweet face, though her expression could turn wicked when she was feeling devilish. She had wavy golden locks and loved to dress sexily. John was all male, a beer drinker and sports fan, tall and sturdily built.
From the bedroom Crystal called in a calm authoritative voice, "Gemma! Get in here, girl."
The male maid's heart fluttered at those words. Why was she needed? Mincing along on three inch heels, she hurried to respond. When she got there Crystal and John were side by side in bed, on top of the covers. that was the bed Gemma used to share with Crystal, in the earliest days of their marriage. The wife had on a short filmy nightie with matching panties, an outfit Gemma could easily picture herself wearing. The lover wore just his boxer shorts, so that his fit and somewhat hirsute body was well shown off.
"John's shoes need a good polishing, dear," she began. "And he was thoughtful enough to bring along everything you need to do the job. You can work right there, alongside the foot of the bed. And we'll try not to disturb you with our... activities."
"Yes, Ma'am," Gemma said deferentially.
Her nerves were buzzing with positive energy. This was so exciting. She saw the shoes and a shopping bag with handles. From the bag she took a towel, on which she set the shoes. Alongside that she lined up polish, rags, and a buffing brush, along with a pair of fresh laces. Her fingers quivered in anticipation of being made to complete such a lowly task while the pair remained in bed, relaxing and -- she hoped -- doing much more, as her wife had hinted. Inside her silky panties, Gemma's male organ stirred. She couldn't help herself. Being a maid and cuckold were an ideal combination in her mind.
First Gemma removed the old laces. As she opened the can of polish her wife chuckled softly, followed by a wet kissing sound. A stolen glance assured Gemma that the two were indeed beginning to get busy with each other. She continued to surreptitiously peek as they proceeded from chaste kisses to ardent lip-locks. Their hands roamed freely over each other. Delightful shivers ran through Gemma as she put polish on the rag and picked up a shoe. The next time she looked, John was out of his shorts, his long hard cock in Crystal's hand as she stroked him unhurriedly. He reached across to fondle her breasts through the gauzy material of her lingerie. Their breathing quickened, and so did the maid's. It was as if the three of them were joined by some invisible erotic connection.
Crystal laid back and spread her shapely legs. John positioned himself between her smooth thighs, his enviable member poised at the entrance to her womanhood. Gemma was very aware of how inferior he was to that man when it came to penis dimensions. The husband could deliver much less pleasure with his organ than he could with his fingers and mouth. The point was moot, however, as it had been a long time since the maid was permitted intercourse. In fact, that had ended in the early weeks of their wedded life. Crystal took endless enjoyment from teasing her spouse, visually and physically, keeping Gemma in a state of frustrated sexual need. The occasional releases the maid was granted were through masturbating herself, always with Crystal watching and offering playful comments, plus remarks calculated to add to her husband's arousal. One of the wife's favorite topics at those times was to praise John's bedroom skills, impressive length and girth, and his coital endurance. Sometimes when she built to a crescendo of titillating remarks and then referred to him as her 'one-hour man', it put Gemma over the top.
Now, as the maid applied polish all over the first shoe, John slowly and expertly penetrated Crystal, making her writhe and moan. It was as if Gemma were simultaneously experiencing the same treatment. The real female and the faux femme moaned at the same time, though the one of the floor did her best to suppress the sounds. John set up a steady unrushed rhythm with his hips, varying it slightly as he wanted to keep everything interesting and to tingle different nerve endings. The supine wife brought her legs up and wrapped them around John's waist. He adjusted his deep strokes to accommodate this change in position. She purred appreciatively and thrust her hips up to meet his downstrokes.
Gemma had been in the room often enough to know where this was probably leading. Sometimes the couple enjoyed an initial quick round of sex, to be followed later by a less rapid and much more nuanced second go at it. Having them work so well together for each other's pleasure was especially intense for Gemma, who found herself panting as she tried to focus on the menial task at hand. She switched to the second shoe. The smell of polish, not a pleasant scent in itself, was taking on a strangely erotic association. She sometimes found that her cleaning liquids when she used them, or the perfumes and emollients on Crystal's dresser while she was straightening them, also acquired an olfactory aphrodisiac dimension.
John's pace decelerated. Maybe he wasn't going for that rapid fire double-climax. Gemma slowed her polishing. She knew that finishing together was always better. As the lover led the wife along winding paths of libidinous fun, Gemma finished applying polish to the second shoe and set it aside. She took the first and started buffing it, then paused to gauge how the two on the bed were doing. John had switched again, this time to short quick jabs. He must be changing his angle of approach to put pressure on her clitoris. All of a sudden she was mounting toward a climax. Gemma rushed to keep up, furiously working at the initial shoe and then hurrying on to the other. Just as she was completing the toe, bringing it to a fine gloss, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing, her wife exploded into an animated orgasm. Gemma pressed the heel of that shoe to her crotch and held it there, imaging it was something more fleshy. Crystal's finale peaked and then subsided in stages. At least she was sated. Her legs relaxed and fell to the mattress.
John, however, didn't stop. He merely came to a near halt and then increased his tempo in small increments. His partner responded, mewling and holding onto his shoulders. He kept her engagement mounting until she had a small added orgasm, which was when he let himself go and spurted into her receptive body. She let out a long sigh and released his shoulders. He smiled down at her and delivered a tender kiss. Gemma's eyelids fluttered and she thought she might swoon, though her own physical needs had not been met. She was left the way her wife preferred, eager for another sexual encounter of whatever type.
The big man pulled out and rolled onto his back. Gemma put the new laces through the eyelets with unsteady fingers. She made sure her hands were clean and stood up, trying not to disturb their languor. She held the footwear. Her eyes went to John's cock, lying across his thigh. Even flaccid it was bigger than the sissy's when hard. Gemma was so happy for her wife, having a man who was exceptional in bed.
"Oh," Crystal said sleepily. "Our maid is here. I forgot she was in the room. After all, I had a lot distracting me." She lightly touched his tool. "Quite a lot."
"And you'll have it again later," he reminded her.
"Terrific. But for right now I have a chore for Gemma. She did a wonderful job polishing your shoes and I have something else for her to make all clean." She looked directly at her husband. "Now that I've been with one man for a while and I've taken care of birth control, we're not using condoms anymore. I remember how you always liked it when I fed you spunk out of a used rubber. The way I would make you kneel and I'd hold it upside down over your open mouth, and milk out all that rich salty cum. But now you can eat it directly from where John put it. I want you to lick my pussy clean, like a good girl. Unless you have a problem with that."
"Not at all, Ma'am," Gemma replied, trying not to sound as enthused as she felt.
It wouldn't be proper for a maid to show so much emotion. She got onto the foot of the bed and moved forward until her face was directly in front of Crystal's oozing slit. John propped himself up on one elbow. He had previously seen the condom feedings but what was about to happen was new to him. It was still sometimes difficult to believe how fully Gemma was invested in her role. He peered at her as she extended her tongue and lapped up a gob of his white sauce, taking it into her mouth and, he was sure, swallowing it. She appeared as contented as a cat with a saucer of cream.
Gemma would have agreed that that was how she felt. It gave her complete satisfaction to serve her wife in any way required. This new experience, however, was better than anything prior to it. Her hands went to Crystal's hips and her mouth fastened onto that well used orifice, tongue probing, lips sucking. To be not only a maid, but a cuckold too, and to have to lick her wife clean after an act of consensual infidelity, well, it was simply the best. Gemma tried to take her time so it would last longer, but it honestly wasn't easy to restrain herself. All too soon the mess was gone. She raised her head, permitted herself a faint smile, and licked her glistening lips.
John laughed. Crystal patted her on the head.
The wife wanted to know, "Don't you still have work to do, girl?"
Gemma lowered her eyes, nodded, and admitted, "Yes, Ma'am."
"Then get going. You can't spend all your time being such a naughty slut."
"Yeah," said John. "Though I'll look forward to seeing that happen again. And nice job on my shoes. They look brand new. I can only imagine what it was like doing that while I plowed your hot wife."
"Thank you, Sir. It was... gratifying."
"No chit chat," Crystal scolded. "Off you go."
Gemma scurried from the room, already mentally reviewing which household jobs still waited to be done. She decided to do the bathroom first. That always appealed to her. It was something most people would want to avoid, but for her its bad connotations were what made it attractive. As a maid she shouldn't pick and choose what she did. Instead, she had to accept the lowliest of tasks with a meek smile and then do them. When she got there the first thing she noticed was that John had left the toilet seat up again. He was that kind of guy. She gently lowered it. Closer inspection revealed that he also hadn't been particularly neat while relieving himself. Gemma got her cleaning supplies, wet a sponge and put some cleanser on it, and got down on her knees. She decided to do the entire floor, a quick once-over for most of it and then the needed detail work around the base of the commode, including that hard-to-reach area behind it.
The male maid slipped into a pleasant trance as she began, the large sponge overfilling her small hand. She worked her way inward, toward the far end of the room where the most challenging chore waited. As she labored she remembered one time, when Crystal had dated a mean-spirited guy. While the couple went to bed for a romp, Gemma had to deal with a clogged toilet. She had a strong suspicion that the guy had created the problem on purpose. Along with that her rubber gloves were missing, very possibly hidden by Crystal. But duty called and so, with the sounds of lovemaking in the background -- they had typically left the bedroom door open so she could hear them -- had to demean herself resolving the plumbing issue by hand. Ugh and double-ugh. Yet even that had become part of her self-image as a maid who merely did what was required without complaint. She had put it behind her and moved on, yet the memory lingered.
Now, as she warmed up from her exertions, the perfume Gemma wore spread its scent. She had on a flowery brand called Bouquet. It was cheap stuff that Crystal had bought her intentionally, its fragrance a bit overstated, one more reminder that the feminized husband had his decisions made for him, and that his needs could be shortchanged at any time. Before Crystal settled on that one, she had found something even less desirable in a dollar store. The only reason for that product's rejection was that the wife didn't like it. Gemma's feelings in the matter didn't count.
But Crystal still watched in those bargain shops for items she could use. A few months ago one of them had received a load of poorly made panties, some of them rather flashy and others depressingly plain. Crystal stocked up, bringing home a dozen, most of them the more gaudy type. They were also a few sizes too small, so that Gemma was constantly aware of them when they were on her, riding up between her butt cheeks and squeezing her male parts. She remembered how Crystal would frequently have her lift her uniform's brief skirt for 'panty inspection'. The wife particularly enjoyed doing that when she had one of her girlfriends over for coffee or wine. They would make mischievous comments that caused Gemma to blush prettily.
Crystal also called for the check-ups when her then-current boyfriend was visiting. He would ogle how the undersized lingerie failed to properly cover Gemma's bottom. At one point he 'helpfully' offered to adjust the undergarment, doing less to straighten it and more to cop feels of her ass. She had quivered all over at the touch of his rough male hands while Crystal stood aside and let it happen. The maid had wondered if he would go further but never found out, as he was transferred to another city by the company that employed him.
All those precious memories swirled through her mind as she continued cleaning. Soon she was at the foot of the toilet, so close that her nose could detect the tang of urine, those final drops that John had allowed to fall on the floor. Gemma hesitated, letting the moment have its effect on her. Then she went on resolutely, swabbing the messiest area. Next she dipped her body lower and stretched one arm to reach the spot behind the 'throne'. Just as she was at her most off balance, someone walked into the room.
"Don't bother moving," John said. "I just have to take a leak." With more emphasis he added, "Stay right where you are."
Gemma froze. She heard him grunt and clear his throat, then spit into the bowl. Seconds later there was the hiss of him relieving himself and the distinctive splash of the stream hitting the water. She waited while he shook off the last drips.
John said, "You're really dedicated to your work." He chuckled and left.
She backed out and saw that not only had he left the seat up, but either by accident or on purpose had gotten more drops on the floor, and even on the rim of the bowl. Gemma sighed with cheerful resignation. Such was the life of a maid. She resumed her efforts and eventually had everything looking tip-top. For another hour after that she did the rest of the bathroom, putting extra effort into making the shower enclosure sparkle. Just as she finished, the happy couple appeared, ready to shower. Gemma scooted to the hall closet to get fresh towels and washrags, already thinking about how this would increase the laundry load.
When she returned they were sharing a tight embrace and several deep kisses. Then Crystal held out her arms. Gemma understood what was expected and helped her slip out of that gauzy top. John pointed to his shorts. The maid sank to her knees, hooked her fingers under the waistband, and carefully worked the garment down his legs so he could step out of it. She was near enough to inhale the strong odors of the pair's mingled sexual fluids on his dangling cock. As before, Gemma was highly aware of his impressive size down there and his inherent masculinity generally. Without getting up she put everything into the hamper. That nightie would have to be hand washed.
Gemma remained on her knees while John slid open the frosted glass shower door and turned on the water, adjusting it to his liking. He stepped aside to let Crystal get in first, cupping one of her buttocks in his broad hand as she entered. She rewarded him with a smile. He followed her into the enclosure and they washed each other's backs, along with several other body portions. There was some laughter and a few exchanges that Gemma couldn't hear clearly over the sound of rushing water. At last they were done. The maid was waiting with a big towel for each of them as they emerged. Once they were both out she patted Crystal dry, relishing the feel of her curves through the terrycloth, but unable to do more than savor that secondhand contact.
"How about me?" John demanded, tossing his bath towel to Gemma.
She caught it clumsily and began to lightly rub it all over his body. In contrast to Crystal he was muscular everywhere. When John nodded toward his crotch, the maid obediently bent far forward to carefully use the end of the towel on his genitals. She thought about how recently his cock had been inside Crystal and left that deposit that Gemma had licked up and swallowed. This was turning into an overwhelming evening.
"How about if we go out for a nice meal?" Crystal asked her lover.
"Sure," John agreed readily, "as long as it's some place where I can get a beer. Not one of those fancy imported ones or microbrews. Just a good solid American brand."
"Of course, baby. Whatever you want. Especially after the way you took care of my needs. It's not as if I have somebody else around here who can handle that job."
"No," he said with a grin. "All your better half is good for is cleaning and washing and whatever."
"Plus she's fun to have in the bedroom, for those special duties."
"You mean like doing my shoes while we ball?" John asked rhetorically.
"No, silly. Though that was inspired. I mean for cleaning my pussy with her talented mouth."
He eyed Gemma up and down. "And maybe doing the same for me, later on, after we get back and hit the sheets again."
"Ohhh," Crystal enthused. "That's something I'd love to see. And I'm certain Gemma would never forget it. Never ever... ever."
"Especially not if I got stiff again and she had to finish what she started. Has the sissy ever done that for a guy before?"
"Not yet, but it's about time she started. I'm sure it's in her job description somewhere."
"Then let's make it happen. But first I need a steak, a baked potato, and a couple beers."
"Whatever you say, lover. Lots of protein and carbs to fuel you up for later."
"And to get my balls good and full so this sissy can get a double helping of cream. One to eat out of your pussy, and another right from the source after she sucks me clean and gets me up again."
"In the meantime," Crystal suggested, "she can keep busy with her workload. I know there are some old male clothes in the back of the bedroom closet that have to be boxed up so the thrift store truck can come and fetch them."
Wow. Gemma's nerve endings tingled. Crystal was getting rid of the last of her male wardrobe. That was an auspicious occasion. And she was talking about the maid as if she wasn't there, or not worth bothering to address directly. Gemma knew that the next several hours would be unforgettable, with her at some point preparing those shirts and slacks to give to charity, at the same time she was anticipating what was to happen later. She was going to have her oral virginity taken. Crystal had made her practice often enough on a long thick pink dildo, sometimes while watching as the wife fellated other men. Now Gemma was going to get to put her talents to the test. She reminded herself, 'suck, swirl and swallow'. That and fondling John's heavy balls, being cautious not to get carried away and squeeze them too hard.
By the time the couple were dressed and had departed, Gemma was caught up in straightening the house, picking up after John, who was the type to leave socks and his sports magazines and empty wrappers from snacks wherever they ended up. He acted like the entire house was his man cave. Gemma smiled wistfully. Then she would proceed to the main job, getting those old clothes ready for removal. She knew she would pause and consider each article as it was boxed up. It would be especially emotional to dispose of her old letter jacket from high school. It was only an unofficial one, given because back then, still in her male persona, she had been an assistant to the football coach, which mainly involved making sure there were towels in the locker room and that the team members' uniforms and jock straps got into the laundry and were cleaned. Even then he had already been on the lifepath he was still following.
Gemma sighed happily. Was there ever a luckier maid-cuckold? She doubted it.
