Chrissie

The market broke even and it was a relatively stress-free Monday at the office. After work, I was happy to find a bus stop less than a block from the firm, although that turned out to be a mixed blessing when my boss, Mr. Colburn, drove by and saw me standing there.

He rolled down the car window. "Hey, Chris, why are you taking the bus?"

"Uh, um, my car broke down," I lied.

"Oh, well, get in. I'll give you a ride home."

Thinking fast, I sputtered: "Um, thanks, uh ... but my friend is fixing my car, and, uh ... I'm, uh, headed to his house to pick it up."

Mr. Colburn shrugged. "Hop in, I'll take you to your friend's."

I kicked at the sidewalk. "Um, uh ... that's okay. I'm good."

"You sure?" My boss frowned. "Listen, is everything okay, Chris? You've seemed distracted the last few weeks."

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. I ... uh ..." I thought up another lie: "Um, I just been having some family issues lately."

"All right," my boss said. "You take it easy, then."

He pulled away and I exhaled, relieved that he was out of my hair, but also upset that I'd have start walking to a bus stop farther from work until I got my Mercedes back so my boss wouldn't see me — and according to Karl, that wouldn't be for another two weeks.

After catching the bus and walking a mile, I didn't get to the Martins' house until well past 8pm. My ears turned red when I saw my Mercedes in the driveway, although I noticed the absence of Rebecca's Neon.

Karl answered my knock and stood in the doorway towering over me.

"You're late," he snapped.

"Sir, I'm sorry ... I took the first bus that came after work, sir. It ... it just takes a lot longer to get here on the bus, sir."

"You'll be alright." Karl chuckled and let me inside. "It'll do a rich boy like you good to ride the bus for a while; see how the other people have to live."

I wanted to tell the low-class, redneck piece of shit that I'd grown up dirt-poor and had worked two jobs to put myself through college. Sure, I was making high six figures and drove a $150,000 Mercedes GT63 S — or, I did before Karl took it — but nothing had ever been easy for me.

I bit my lip and scanned the room for Rebecca.

"She's out with her girlfriends from Best Buy," Karl said. "She probably won't be back until late; go ahead and start."

Sniffling back tears, I shed my suit, revealing my teddy. Karl tittered.

"So, wearing that shit makes you want to clean the house?" He plopped on the couch, set his feet on the coffee table and smirked up at me. "I don't understand that shit. How does wearing women's underwear make someone want to clean a damn house?"

"Um, well, sir, it's, uh, kind of hard to explain," I said. "It's not really the clothes that make me want to do it ... um, it's just ... well, when I was a kid—"

Karl waved his hand. "I don't want to hear that shit."

"Y-yes, sir, sorry, sir," I said, seething inside, since he was the one who'd broached the subject in the first place.

Resentment ate me alive as I scuttled about picking up dirty plates, cups, empty chip bags, a pizza box and other trash from the coffee table while Karl chilled and watched a ballgame. He didn't move his feet so I worked around them before heading to the kitchen to do the dishes. After the kitchen was spotless, I did the bathroom. The living room carpet also needed vacuuming, although since Karl was still watching TV, I figured I'd better check with him before firing up the appliance.

"Um, sir, everything's done except the vacuuming, but I didn't want to make a bunch of noise with you watching TV, sir."

"Yeah, I'm trying to watch the game; don't be turning on the damn vacuum cleaner." Karl jerked his thumb toward the laundry room. "Go get the whisk broom and the dustpan out of the closet in there."

"Yes, sir."

While the smug sonofabitch relaxed on the couch watching the ballgame with his feet on the table, I maneuvered around him on my hands and knees sweeping up crumbs.

During a commercial, he leered down at me.

"Tell me something, Chrissie: You in love with my wife?"

"Um, uh ... I ... er ... sir?"

"It's a simple question. Are you?"

"Sir, I don't ... I ..."

He scoffed. "It's okay, sissy boy. I know you are. I don't blame you; she's beautiful, ain't she?"

"Uh, um, y-yes, sir."

"You think about fucking her still?"

"Um ... I ... uh ... no, sir."

Karl snorted. "Bull fucking shit. I see you all goo-goo eyed whenever you look at her."

"S-sorry, sir."

He studied me for a few minutes. I squirmed under his gaze.

"She says you're a pretty nice guy; you just get turned on by this crazy shit."

"I ... uh ... I guess, so, sir."

"Well, you work hard, I'll give you that much. It's been nice having you around; that garage looks fucking great." He stared at me a few seconds more. "Tell you what: When you finish up here, you can go ahead and call an Uber, and rent a car if you want to. I'll let you."

"Oh, sir ... t-thank you so much, sir."

Karl shrugged. "No problem. Like I said, you've been working real hard for us. Becca loves it; the girl hates a dirty house, but she hates cleaning even more. And I sure as hell ain't doing it. So, it's great having you, Chrissie. You're a good slave."

"I really, really appreciate it, sir ... um, and I do like serving you and ... uh, Mrs. Martin, sir."

He picked up the remote. "Well, great. Hey, before you go, how about you whip me up some nachos?"

"Oh, yes, sir, right away, sir."

"That's a good little sissy."

The insult made me smile.

Part IX

I chose the most expensive Beemer at the rent-a-car place and drove to work with a grin on my face.

The only drawback to my buoyant mood was that it was Tuesday, a non-cleaning day, meaning I wasn't scheduled to see my angel, although I wore a white teddy and panties beneath my suit anyway on the off-chance Rebecca or Karl might summon me. I wasn't worried about using the bathroom at the office anymore, having figured out that spreading a newspaper across my lap obscured my panties and covered me from possible prying eyes in the adjacent stalls. So, I threw on my girlies just in case.

My boss had mentioned how distracted I'd seemed recently, so as the opening bell rang, I did my best to put Rebecca — and Karl — out of my mind. It was, of course, impossible. Since Karl had treated me halfway decently the previous evening, I'd been in turmoil, fighting a deep desire to submit to the hillbilly sonofabitch — the same subservient, mushy feelings I'd always had for Rebecca. The more I tried not to think about it, the more I did, and the more I hated myself for it.

I tried to reason away the terror and doubt that churned my gut, to no avail. Karl had acted like he'd done me the biggest solid in the world by allowing me to rent a car while keeping my Mercedes for himself — but I was ashamed to admit that I FELT like he'd done me some huge favor. It scared me how much power he held over me through my infatuation for Rebecca. And he knew it, too. He was well-aware that his pretty little wife had me wrapped around her pretty little finger, and that he could get me to do anything he wanted simply by having her tell me to do it. As a result, I felt like my fate rested on his whim, while any little favor or nicety he deemed to mete out had me wagging my tail like an overeager, pathetic puppy.

The day ended with a decent Tuesday tech rebound, and with me concluding that my best bet was to just keep kissing Karl's ass and hoping he stayed in a good mood. The alternative was to allow him to bother me, cry about it all the time and have Rebecca bar me from serving her. That was a fate I didn't want to contemplate.

As I drove home from work, my cellphone rang, and I almost careened into a ditch when I saw Rebecca's number.

I engaged the Bluetooth. "Uh, hey, Mrs. Martin."

"Hey, Chrissie. You home yet?"

"No, Mrs. Martin, I'm on my way, though."

"Oh, good. There's a new Whataburger on the strip, and Karl's never had one. Pick us up a couple Avocado Bacon Burgers, and I guess two large fries."

In the background I heard Karl yell, "onion rings for me."

"He wants onion rings," Rebecca relayed before telling her husband, "you're gonna love that burger, watch." Then the line went dead. For a nanosecond I considered calling her back, thinking maybe we'd been accidentally disconnected, but with a sigh, I realized that she'd simply been rude and had hung up on me without saying thanks.

Her disrespect didn't keep my spirits down for long, though — I was getting an extra chance to spend some time with my beloved angel, even if it was just to drop off dinner.

I picked up my masters' Whataburger order and sped to their house, seething when I spotted my car in the driveway covered bumper-to-bumper in mud. Karl answered the door and whistled at my rented BMW.

"Nice ride." He grinned. "Race ya."

"Um ... er ..."

Karl reached down and ruffled my hair. "Just kidding, Chrissie. You are gonna have to wash that one, though; me and Tom was doing a little off-roading. Nothing major, don't worry. Just a few donuts."

I gritted my teeth. "Y-yes, sir."

He smacked his lips. "Okay, let's have them burgers Becca keeps talking about."

He led me into the living room, where Rebecca sat on the couch, still in her Best Buy uniform. "Oh, hey, Chrissie, go get plates," she said.

After I'd set the table, laid out their food and fetched drinks from the kitchen, Rebecca and I watched as Karl took a bite of his burger.

"Mmmm." He nodded with his mouth full, causing Rebecca to grin.

"Told you," she said before looking up at me. "Thanks for getting those, Chrissie. I guess we'll see you tomorrow after work."

"Um, okay, Mrs. Martin, thank you."

Karl glanced out the window. "You know what? It's still light outside; why don't you go ahead and wash the Mercedes now, instead of waiting until tomorrow?"

"Uh, y-yes, sir."

"Thanks, Chrissie." Karl winked at me. "Hey, Chrissie — watch this."

He leaned over and yanked up his wife's Best Buy shirt and bra, exposing her breasts.

Rebecca playfully slapped her husband's hand, causing her tits to jiggle. He ignored her and grinned at me.

"Lookie there, Chrissie," he said. "How you like them apples?"

I tried to formulate words but all that came out was "bububububdadadadaabababebebe."

Rebecca pulled her shirt down. "You're so funny. See you tomorrow, baba. Thanks again for the burgers."

"T-thank you, Mrs. Martin."

"Make sure you turn off that hose and lock up the garage when you're done washing the car," Karl said.

"Will do, sir, thank you, sir." I instantly cursed myself for being such a suck-up to the man who'd stolen my angel's heart.

The vision of Rebecca's lovely breasts was stuck in my head all night, offsetting my resentment as I scuttled back and forth in the driveway washing my own car after Karl had taken it joyriding it through the mud. Once again, though, instead of being massively pissed off, I left their house feeling indebted to the sonofabitch for showing me his wife's boobs, and hoping I'd washed the car to his satisfaction.

Part X

Wednesday's cleaning shift took a lecherous twist and my Rebecca Anne Martin obsession boiled over into full-blown delirium.

Since the schedule called for light housecleaning on Mondays and Wednesdays after work, I normally would have waited until the weekend to scrub the floors. But Karl had tracked mud through the house, and the carpets and linoleum needed immediate attention. Stripping to my teddy and stockings, I hung my suit in the hall closet, gathered the cleaning supplies and got busy.

Rebecca and Karl were chilling on the couch watching television and passing a joint back and forth when I approached them clutching a can of carpet cleaner.

I cleared my throat. "Um, excuse me."

Rebecca looked up from the TV. "What, baba?"

"Uh, is it okay if I spray this on the carpet right now to let it set before I start on the bathroom and kitchen?"

She shrugged. "Go ahead, as long as it don't stink."

"Um, thank you, Mrs. Martin."

Karl nodded at his empty can. "I need another beer first, sissy."

"Yessir."

Within a few seconds, Karl had his Bud and I was on my knees a few feet away, cleaning up the mess he'd made.

As I applied the solution to the mud stains, Rebecca shook her head at me and sighed. "My husband is such a slob." She smacked his leg. "Can't you take off your damned boots when you been working in the mud all day instead of tracking it everywhere?"

Karl chuckled. "Hey, that's what we got the sissy for. Chrissie likes cleaning shit like this, don't you, Chrissie?"

"Uh, yes, sir." I threw in: "Thank you, sir."

"See?" Karl toked his joint.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Well, hurry up, damn it; you still got everything else to do tonight, too. I don't want you here till midnight."

"Y-yes, Mrs. Martin."

I quickened my pace and finished spraying the cleaner on the carpet before moving to the bathroom, since that was the easiest. After scrubbing mud from the floor tiles, I wiped yellow drops of Karl's piss from the toilet rim, a recurring chore.

Next, I tackled the kitchen. While on my hands and knees polishing the tiles at the base of the refrigerator, I glanced into the living room and gasped — my angel's head was bobbing up and down in Karl's lap as he relaxed on the couch!! I tried to look away but the smug sonofabitch caught me gawking and flashed a double thumbs-up.

"Damn, this feels good, Chrissie." He leered. "She ever do this for you?"

I peeked up at Rebecca. She locked eyes with me, holding the dick in her mouth for a few seconds before winking and continuing the blowjob.

"Did she?" Karl demanded.

I was certain he already knew the answer. "Um ... no, sir. She ... she never did."

"Well, let me tell you, Chrissie, you don't know what you're missing. Ol' girl can suck a dick."

Rebecca lifted her mouth from the cock with a pop and pouted my way. "I'm sorry I never gave you blowjobs when we were dating, Chrissie. Don't take it personal, baba; a girl only wants to do that for a certain kind of guy, you know?"

"Uh, um ... yes, Mrs. Martin." I blinked back tears.

"You're so much fun to tease." She blew me a kiss. "Go ahead and keep cleaning, Chrissie, don't mind us."

"Y-yes, Mrs. Martin." I went back to scrubbing the kitchen floor, trying unsuccessfully to ignore what was happening in the living room.

By the time the cleaning solution had set in and I was ready to start on the carpet, Rebecca and Karl were locked together on the couch making out. He rummaged his hand inside her pants while she jacked him off. I bowed my head and started scrubbing the carpet nearby, trying not to peek. My back was turned to them and I was focused on a particularly tough stain when Karl's voice made me jump:

"Come over here, Chrissie."

Trembling, I turned and faced my masters, still on my knees. She had shed her pants and shirt, and only her panties prevented me from laying eyes on the heavenly vision of her naked body. I shuffled across the carpet toward them, trying not to stare at Rebecca's tits.

Karl presented his index and middle fingers, which had just been inside his wife's pussy. He touched them to his nose and inhaled.

"Ahhh," he sighed, wiggling the two digits at me. "Want a sniff?"

My gasp came out as a squeak, causing Rebecca to giggle.

"Well?" Karl pulled the fingers back. "Do you want a sniff or not?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Y-yes, sir."

"Then, where's your manners, Chrissie?" He smirked. "Ask nice."

"Um, sir ... um, can I please smell your fingers, sir?"

Rebecca giggled again.

"Sure thing, sissy, come on," Karl said.

He held his fingers a few inches from my nose. I leaned forward and breathed in the celestial fragrance of my angel's sacred vagina. It completely overwhelmed me, and while I tried to hold it back, I couldn't help releasing a pitiful, anguished moan:

"oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Rebecca snorted. "Damn it, Karl, you're gonna give that poor thing a heart attack. Come on now; he needs to get these damn carpets clean so he can do the rest and get the hell out of here."

Karl shrugged. "What's your hurry babe? We only wanted him to get done quick tonight so we could fool around. Why not let him stay? Give the sissy a little treat? You said to be nice to him, didn't you?"

"I don't know." Rebecca tilted her head. "What do you think, Chrissie? Can you handle it?"

"Uh ... I ... I ..."

"Oh, he can handle it fine." Karl stood and pulled his wife up after him. "Come on, sissy."

My entire body shook as I followed them into their bedroom. I fought the urge to pee, and had to remind myself to breathe. After Rebecca fell onto the bed, Karl removed her panties and turned to me.

"We're gonna start off slow," he said. "For now, you just get to listen, Chrissie. Maybe you can watch later; we'll see. Sissies got to earn their privileges around here. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir." I glanced at Rebecca, who was watching us with a glazed look in her eye, clearly fascinated by the primal contrast between her tall, muscular husband and the 5'6 beta cowering before him in women's underwear.

Karl held Rebecca's panties against the bedroom wall with his thumb. "Step on over here and put your hands on your head, Chrissie," he said.

I followed his order and he continued: "Okay, now you need to hold them panties against the wall with your nose. And don't let 'em drop, sissy, or you're kicked out of the bedroom, you hear?"

"Y-yes, sir."

Rebecca tittered. "Jeezus, Karl, where the hell you come up with this shit?"

"Hey, I'm just being nice to the sissy like you asked me to. Ain't I, sissy?"

"Y-yes, sir," I said, pressing my nose harder against the panties. "Thank you."

"Did you know that Rebecca asked me to start being nicer to you?"

"I ... I ... no, sir, I didn't know that." It was difficult to talk while holding the panties against the wall with my nose, but I added, "T-thank you, Mrs. Martin."

"Aw, you're my little doll, Chrissie. We don't want nobody being mean to my little doll, do we?"

"N-no, Mrs. Martin, t-thank you so much."

Karl's gruff voice cut in: "All right, now forget the faggot and come here, girl."

I heard Rebecca's light slap. "Be nice, I told you."

There was a scoff, followed by the wet smack of a kiss. The bedsprings creaked as one of them shifted positions. Heavy breathing. Wetter smacks. Creakier creaks. Then, a feminine gasp — Karl entering my angel. I pressed my nose against her panties, wallowing in the shameful reality of his dick being literally twice the size of my pea-shooter. The degradation worsened when he began pumping that howitzer into her, and my precious Rebecca actually sounded like she was enjoying it — as opposed to the times when she'd yawned and watched "The Bachelorette" over my shoulder during our pathetic stabs at lovemaking.

They started going at it like crazy and my veins felt electrified. I could taste blood from biting my lip, but if I hadn't clamped down so hard, some kind of sorrowful wail surely would've escaped from within me. My entire body trembled, making it even more difficult to hold the panties against the wall with my nose while keeping my hands on my head. After about 20 minutes, my arms, shoulders, neck and nose started to ache terribly, although the pain was alleviated by the erotic moans swirling behind me. The bedpost started slamming the wall at jackhammer speed, and Rebecca's wails got louder and more desperate before Karl let out a cry. The creaking waned until stopping altogether.

All I heard for the next several minutes was heavy breathing. Then, my beloved angel deemed to address me:

"Go get a towel."