Trap Door Pt. 04 - The End

"Now you can imagine, dear friends, how unspeakably embarrassing this condition is for my wife. Therefore, as a first welcome, so to speak, I would like to give her a constriction of her cunt, which may give her back the feeling of being desired and gladly fucked. Please doctor!" And now the all-known and popular horse doctor Murke, who had of course found his place on the honor board, makes his way through the ring of spectators with his little suitcase.

"Our good doctor will now fix everything up so that anyone who wants to jump my wife will have fun with her cunt again. And when I say "everyone" I don't just mean our four-legged fellows, who were probably the only creatures lately so undemanding that they voluntarily made do with this barn door cunt, hem hem, ha ha!" Those present are amazed at the magnanimity of the faithful husband and are naturally pleased that Mrs. Wohlgeruch is to be relieved of her bias. She herself also seems to be quite excited. Once again, her eyes almost bulge out of their sockets with enthusiasm. So she can hardly wait. And that makes me a little suspicious deep inside. Does this woman really have innocent intentions?

In fact, Dr. Murke nimbly opens his toolbox and pulls out a thick syringe, just like the ones you know from his work. "This will hurt a little for the next two days," Dr. Murke murmurs, "but you don't want an anesthetic injection, as I learned from your husband. Well, you have to know that for yourself. I would have liked to offer you that. Your labia will soon swell to about 4 times their previous size and your fuck canal will also constrict enormously. I am sure you will be surprised, Mrs. Wohlgeruch. Such thick long fuck lips don't really occur in nature otherwise. But surely it is a nice feeling for every man to push in there with his thick fuck stick and to polish your cunt. You yourself will be very sensitive down there in the future, of course, but you'll have to live with it. Anyone who has let himself be worn out as shamelessly as you have will surely like to feel what it's like to be desired again, won't you slut!"

With these affectionate words, Dr. Murke jets three of these horse syringes into each labia, which then slowly change color to blue and swell rapidly so that they barely find room between the legs and are forced out the front like cattle tongues. But also the vaginal walls are not left out and so the ungrateful soulful eyes of Mrs. Wohlgeruch do not stop watering after she has started with this fuss. When the doc is done with his work, he gets the applause he deserves, of course, especially after he has once again pulled hard on the rings that are emblazoned at the place of his efforts.

While now the second course is served to the great satisfaction of all involved, trout blue, if you should be interested, and outside the windows the 3rd barrel of beer is tapped, the labia of the immature woman continue to swell. I mean, well, she didn't give herself the shot, but the whole thing was done just to make the lady socially acceptable again sometime. When the covers are removed, it turns out that the cunt rings have disappeared. Whereby "disappeared" is perhaps a harsh word for a not so magical process, as it has taken place here. The rings are, as Fräulein Grimm determines after some energetic picking only covered, not to say buried by swollen cunt flesh. This is of course unpalatable, perhaps even hurts, and stirs all present to sympathetic giggles and uproarious laughter.

But that leads us directly to a serious problem. What good are rings that lie hidden? Aren't they - pointless? Yes, at least almost and that in many respects!

Do I have to mention it explicitly that the solution is once again served on a silver platter by the loving husband. And the solution is called - larger and to compensate also more stable rings. Well, they are not made of gold or silver, but that would be a bit chi chi, don't you think? In our small town, we still appreciate the down-to-earth and solid: stainless steel. It hardly wears out and will still serve its purpose in 20 years, if Mrs. Wohlgeruch keeps it up that long. Of course we wish her all the best, the good one....

And now the faithful butler steps into action, skillfully separates the old cunt rings, after having dragged them out of the swollen flesh as far as possible, and now replaces them with really sensible specimens, almost half a centimeter thick and of such a diameter that a lady's fist fits comfortably through the opening. It looks chic, it's practical, only attaching it is not so easy. Although the holes in the labia were actually already quite stretched and torn open, the syringe swelling ruined this favorable effect again. But well, sometime it works somehow then nevertheless, even if Mrs. Wohlgeruch does not give the impression that she is doing yoga. The woman is hysterical, if you ask me!

But are you interested in all this, dear reader?

Oh, but what does the little fidgeting matter when the main course is now being served. Larded saddle of venison, house style. Heavenly! And now it becomes clear how seriously Mr. Wohlgeruch takes the integration of his wife. She is allowed, indeed she has to take a seat directly at his side. On a chair that was created especially for her. So that she feels comfortable and safe. There is a lot of sighing at the table, but only of satisfaction. Fortunately! The seat is peppered with thumbtacks for massage purposes, in the middle is a fancy dildo of dignified diameter, which under normal circumstances would have fit well in the worn-out cunt, but now seems to cause some difficulty in receiving. But I think Mrs. Wohlgeruch simply enjoys the attention that is now given to her and makes more fuss about this trifle than necessary.

But at some point, this problem will be solved, fortunately there are enough loyal helpers here, and my concerns now revolve around the fear that the whole beautiful medical swelling will soon be of no use if the stretching continues so vigorously down there. You see, my concern is entirely conceptual and strategic. I mean, what good is it if the details are right but the broad direction is missed. What do you think about that? Should Mr. Wohlgeruch be warned?

Well, it will certainly be a little while before you speak up. If you react at all, because a certain indifference is definitely noticeable, dear reader... And actually, you can probably rely on Mr. Wohlgeruch to do everything right, can't you? He has also taken into consideration that good posture is half the battle for a lady's aura. That's why the seating furniture also has a spine-protecting, at least -supporting, or let's just say -touching backrest at a medium height, which ensures that the lady of the house, after being helped to pull the waist belt so tight that she no longer has to struggle with superfluous breaths, assumes a miraculously forward posture that curves her upper body invitingly towards the unsuspecting onlooker. The great side effect of this helpful measure is that the breasts, which have been subjected to in-depth stretching exercises just like the cunt and therefore dangle considerably lower than one used to know from this elegant lady, that these hanging udders thus definitely suggest a forward pushing impression. Sweet, isn't it?

So now that everything has been arranged for the best for her, the lady of the house is allowed to feast just as naturally as everyone else. Only that she has it easier than the rest.

She doesn't need to get her hands dirty for that. Her husband does it all for her or has it done by others, because he doesn't feel like doing that either. This behavior can and must be called chivalrous. Isn't it?

At least she seems to open her mouth all by herself, as it should be for a mouth cunt. The fact that she is supported by her ring gag doesn't need to be discussed here, I don't want to talk bad about the woman in one go. So let's pretend that she has done something of her own accord and simply say: The sow has opened her mouth because she finally wants to have some of the delicious things.

Since she is already clearly behind with the drinks, because she has frittered away her time with her exhibitionist performances, her gallant husband makes sure that she can follow suit. Now, as you know, wine, like aperitifs in larger quantities, is bad for your health, and so she will surely be pleased to hear that this considerate man does not want to expose his wife to these hazards. Instead, he spares no effort to bring about a natural product, which undoubtedly contains only small amounts of alcohol and is also not yet generally known as a stimulant. Always on the lookout for something special, Mr. Wohlgeruch rings for the staff and in a ceremonial procession a number of large decanters are now carried into the hall and distributed among the tables.

"Lighten up dear friends. The more you donate, the happier you make my wife!" With these words he opens his fly, pees into one of these jugs and immediately passes it on to his stunned neighbor, the noble Miss Bebend. For her, of course, the whole thing is a bit more complicated. But with a little niggle, some contortions and finally a red head, she manages this little task to the satisfaction of her table master and can pass the carafe on to an imaginative old boy, who first flicks his cigar ash into it before he too lets his water flow. So it doesn't take long at all before a number of well-filled pitchers can finally be collected again and placed on a side table behind the host. Considerately covered with an odor seal. Whereby one says immediately, there are also things in it, which do not smell at all so noticeably, like e.g. cigarette butts or the one or other snot lump.

"Yes, cheers, dear ones" is then said with a wink and now glasses are gratefully emptied and in a special case renunciation is practiced. Yes, it is probably true and should not be concealed at this point. Mrs. Grimm and Mr. Wupp, you remember, the psychological supervisor, initially renounce this invigorating pleasure because they want to devote themselves to the welfare of the public, but above all to the welfare of the popular and thirsty Mrs. Wohlgeruch, these dear people! So Mrs. Grimm grabs her boss carefully by the ears and pulls her head into the neck, while Mr. Wupp very carefully, so that also nothing of this steaming warm broth, which is certainly full of exciting minerals and amazing fragrances, pours through the ring gag of his patient or client (?) into the throat. Oh it looks funny, how the whole body of Mrs. Wohlgeruch gets into bright excitement, twitching and spastic movement. Really a brilliant performance! Of course, drinking with a ring gag has to be learned first. But after a few swallows, burps, gasps and snorts have been overcome - the distinguished evening party is once again very tolerant - the first pitcher can be mastered in about 10 minutes. However, the sight of his wife's slowly swelling belly proves somewhat unpleasant for Mr. Wohlgeruch.

I mean, gluttony is all well and good, but do you have to show it off so ostentatiously, along the lines of: you may have drunk two bottles of Mouton Rothschild, but I can afford six decanters of a much more unusual drink because I am the lady of the house? Do you see what I'm getting at? Yes right, I'm talking about manners again. But even in better circles, manners are not mandatory, as you can see now once again in the provocative drinking of Mrs. Wohlgeruch. In any case, one carafe follows the next and the caring husband is not even too shy to open his wife's corset so that her increasingly shameless belly can unfold undisturbed. You are now, I think, just noticing the secret of a good marriage: taking a step back yourself so that your partner can get more out of life.

Well, at some point all the jugs are emptied and Frau Wohlgeruch hangs apathetically in her chair, no doubt wishing she hadn't been so greedy. But did´nt she ask us before, dear audience? Exactly, exactly! We would certainly not have held back with good advice, but now perceive with interest that Mr. Wohlgeruch certainly not without curiosity, whether this leads to fountain formation, acupunctures her fat belly, thus in confidence optically at least in the 7th month, if you understand me, with selected long needles. Punctured in any case. But apart from the proven horrible grimaces and a wild back and forth jerking - what would we probably have to endure without the stabilizing waist belt in harassment? - nothing dramatic happens in this respect.

Now the time passes with benevolent suggestions about the future of the hostess. The dessert approaches. In the meantime, Mrs. Wohlgeruch has also been served solid food. It seems to be leftovers from the last few weeks, which have been prudently stored for this purpose. After all, it is generally known that this woman has always been committed to social causes, at least in the context of charity balls and dinners of the Rotary Club and similar socially important occasions. She has never hesitated to show off a new evening gown for the benefit of the less fortunate, and to speak critically but honestly about the performance of the kitchen staff as well as the wait staff.

So it is obvious to give her a special opportunity to make sure that nothing perishes and nothing spoiled has to be thrown away undigested. Puuhh yes, of course that means for all in the hall already a certain sacrifice, because the smell of these things is really indescribable. But human will is... you know, and who would want to take this pleasure away from her when she cares so much about it?

On top of that, she seems to have gained so many followers, not to say friends, among the staff of the house from previous occasions, that now in the hour of this very special meal, it pays off wonderfully. In any case, almost the entire staff of the equestrian farm gradually appears, presumably to check whether the guest of honor is really enjoying the meal as much as intended. So someone is immediately on hand to lovingly pick up from the floor (with rubber gloves, of course) any pieces that have accidentally spilled out of her gullet and carefully but emphatically stuff them back down her throat.

That this is not really helpful for her figure, you can probably imagine. You're already thinking of a fictitious 10th month, and her paunch is so swollen that you have to push her elegant thumbtack dildo hump a bit into the background so that her belly doesn't lift the tabletop and endanger the statics of the neighboring wine glasses. Probably her husband already tries whether it is of any use to push in the belly or otherwise embellish it. But this only leads to a recoil, which in no way improves the odor situation on this evening.

Now, before the guests (and Mrs. Wohlgeruch, of course) have to get the impression that the evening could pass without a sound, the host has another particularly successful idea. I have already mentioned that his wife's breasts have been affected by the terrible events of the last few weeks. Well, if you look at it properly, they are not shorter than before, on the contrary, they have increased in length considerably and now dangle lower than the navel, yes, if you want to know more precisely: they have become so long that they now comfortably frame the vagina. Right and left, just so they hang next to the cunt.

"Next to" you may also find such a sight. In any case, it looks quite unusual, especially if there is no bra at hand at the moment. As for the size of the tits, I don't think there has been a huge reduction. The things are still as thick as, let's say, quite lush bologna sausages. But consider the overall picture! If they are now twice as long as before, then the proportions are simply no longer right, the diameter simply no longer matches the length. I hope you can follow me on this.

Mrs. Wohlgeruch for her part was in thoughts surely these considerations in the last time probably already occasionally hurried ahead, and I am almost convinced of the fact that she wished that, what is to come now on us, intimately, at any rate guessed or at least feared. But of course we don't know the lady that well to guess everything that might be going on in her pig's head.

While the dessert also tastes exquisite, now the hour strikes again for Dr. Murke. He dabs the corners of his mouth with his flesh-colored napkin, then takes his suitcase and strolls over to his favorite patient. You should have seen it, Mrs. Wohlgeruch shakes herself almost orgiastically. Obviously in huge anticipation of the changes that the helpful doctor with his fat horse syringe could probably bring about in her.

Three people are needed to dampen the euphoria of this spirited woman to a socially acceptable level. But they manage this feat, and grab the lady so devotedly that the good Samaritan can sink his 8 syringes in the soft udder flesh. And of course this does these breasts good, which are still a bit battered by the needle games of the previous day.

Although the puncture marks blossom for a longer time to hearty lush warts, but above all the long sausage-shaped tits swell within two hours to plump cantilevered melons, which now only sluggishly slosh behind the body movements of the sluggish sow. And now you can be seen with the lady proudly in public again, because this monstrous udder meat can no longer be concealed with anything. No skimpy bras help, no ample bras help, no wide blouses help. These udders can no longer be overlooked. Everyone who notices them immediately realizes that they are not dealing with an elegant woman, but with a shameless sow with udders. And that, as we all know, decorates immensely.

Dear audience, I don't want to bore you, but this much I will reveal, that also the udder rings will be replaced by far more sensible sizes this very evening, where they still leave a fitting impression. And now the whole woman made a coherent impression again, even if she is not beaming so gratefully at the moment as one would expect from her after all this effort.

I'll also tell you that Mrs. Wohlgeruch got her money's worth that evening, because at a late hour she suddenly gave the impression of wanting to get up close and personal with her fans outside in the marketplace. At least that's what her husband had thought. In the meantime, the last keg of beer had been consumed and the mood was approaching its climax. It was just the right moment for Mrs. Grimm's excursion with a tight dog collar in her hand and an expectant wife in tow. Oh, and I have to tell you, there was all kinds of action then. If that were anatomically possible, I could imagine that Mrs. Wohlgeruch would definitely be expecting ten babies in 9 months.

But to look at these events alone was quite exhausting, and I had actually slowly become sleepy. So I left, even though I might have missed the best part of the night, as I was told later.

Epilogue

Well, you have seen, nobody needs to worry about Mrs. Wohlgeruch anymore. She is back in the good hands of her faithful companion and he actually manages to integrate her fully again - in his circles. I, of course, also belong to the circle of her admirers and enjoy her delicate sight as often as possible. I also like to help her with small but effective favors. In any case, it is always an enchanting situation when the couple strolls through the town for a little walk, handing out an invitation here and there. Here and there also invited for a jump. Now and then accompanied by Miss Bebend, whose figure, always considerable, has made adventurous progress in the meantime. Surely she wanted it that way. Even if it is astonishing. But of it and of some details at the edge perhaps another time more...

So you see, dear reader, that this story, which once began so sadly, can now close with a happy ending after all. Certainly not every protagonist of this event will be happy. But certainly probably nevertheless the predominant majority of all participants. Feel free to count them! And isn't that what matters in our democratic times, when we all strive so sacrificially for political correctness? And who knows, maybe one or the other lady in this story will learn to be happy even under the new circumstances. After all, everyone is making such an effort. In life, you also need the courage to try something new! Anyway, the main thing is that I am happy. Pardon, that is of course a spelling mistake. What I actually want to say is this: The main thing is that you are happy, dear reader!