If you haven't read previous chapters, there may be some trigger-inducing stuff here. Keep in mind the characters are feeling what they perceive, not necessarily what's real. For those into exhibition and humiliation head trips...have fun!
*****
The Landtree women met in the bar of a strip-mall eatery for happy hour. Suzette was talking about her sister Sarah's husband. The one with the exhibition and humiliation issues.
"Like I said in my text, there wasn't any raping going on. He was pretending in his head."
"Oh, it's true, sweetie," the mother told her. "Your sister made him tell us what he liked, and what he didn't."
Sarah was almost convinced. Her own mother wouldn't lie to her. She wouldn't really let her husband be ass-raped. She might whoop his butt with a belt, though.
"I saw what his asshole and bottom looked like, you two."
The waiter came and set down the bar food they had ordered with their drinks. All three women looked brazenly at his groin as he worked and then his buttocks when he turned to leave.
"That boy gives me some ideas," Mrs. Landtree said.
"You're such a horn-dog now, Mom. What's gotten into you? So you're both telling me his ass got tore up by itself?"
Suzette explained that Sarah's jerkboy was what she called "a painslut" and that the pain caused something called "dissociation" and that apparently made his mind go someplace that wasn't real. Sarah pounded down the rest of her second drink and remembered when it was like that with Carl, her donkey-dicked fuck buddy. When she was being slutty. Being stretched and drilled by a man who wasn't her husband, feeling her boobies flop and liking the whorish sounds they made. The more she felt like a slut, the harder she came. It was good to be a slut instead of sweet Sarah sometimes.
"Hey. You with me?" Sarah blinked at her sister. "He found that bowling pin in the garage when Mom had him doing yardwork. Next thing we know he's sitting on the thing, whining about being an "asswhore" and trying to stick it in his butt. We should have stopped him sooner, and I'm sorry about that."
"So what about the marks on his bottom?"
"He's a spankslut. Sis, I thought you had trained him. Your man is really into having his butt beat. He exhibits or humiliates himself, then pretends he's been bad and deserves to be punished, you know, by an imaginary authority in his head. A female authority."
Sarah motioned for another Long Island Iced Tea, despite the admonition of her mother. Jerkboy. Painslut. Asswhore. Spankslut. Panty Sissy. Potty Doggie. What else? He would probably suck another man's dick if we would watch him and punish him for it. That would be cool, watching him do it like that dildo pic had Suzette sent her.
". . . . so he doesn't get out of control and fuck up. You have to learn to supervise him, sis."
"Huh? Right. Supervise him."
If he wanted to be an asswhore, he probably wanted a real man's cock in there. Or at least he wanted to pretend. Her husband was so loving and vulnerable when she finger-fucked his butthole last weekend. After he healed, maybe she would try the pink dildo on him. Like what Mom and Suzy did. Or one of those strap-on things she had seen when her sister sent her those web links about Female Led Relationships.
". . .and he's very susceptible to commands. I taught him a few at Mom's. We can go over it all -- when you're not shit-faced drunk!" The three women laughed.
"My husband is a jerkboy," Sarah announced to the waiter when he brought her drink. "Hey bro, you've got a nice package." He stared, turned and scurried away.
"Okay, girl. You're not driving," Mrs. Landtree said.
"Don't worry, I'll get -- oh damn it. He's out of town on work. I know . . ." Sarah took out her phone and texted while Mrs. Landtree and Suzette eyed each other. The trio gnashed on nachos and caught up on gossip while Sarah got more sloshed until a broad-shouldered black man strode up to their table.
"Carl! Honeybear! Thank fucking goodness you could rescue me."
Suzette and Mrs. Landtree smiled and made his brief acquaintance while appreciating the large lump in his tailored wool slacks, at glorious eye level from their seats in the booth. They watched him walk Sarah by the elbow toward the front of the establishment, waving their fingers goodbye until the pair were out of earshot.
"Think she bought it, Mom?"
"I think she wanted to believe. She's always been -- suggestible. We're going to have to be more careful with him in the future."
Suzette polished off the rest of her wine and replied, "At least until little sister learns how to give him what he wants." She checked her smartphone for texts. "He's waiting over at your place now."
Mrs. Landtree signaled for the check. "It feels so naughty sneaking him like this."
It also felt good to come to home a man in her house. Francine Landtree turned her chin up to her daughter's husband and relished his passionate kisses. She had put away being a whole woman for so long, carefully avoiding situations that might arouse her hyper-sensitive private parts. And now this was happening. She was alive again.
He followed her into the kitchen, still fully dressed in his business suit and expensive leather shoes. The kitchen where Sarah had first made him kneel, hold out his genitals and show what he was.
"Are you hungry? Can I make you something?" Mrs. Landtree remembered how she liked to cook for a man and see him eat -- the right way, not like Suzette had this one shoving his face in a bowl on the floor. As she built him a big sandwich at the counter he moved up from behind and pressed his hands under her bra-supported bosom.
"What do you need?" she said without turning around.
"Please, may I go potty?"
"Is that how Sarah makes you ask? I like it. You shouldn't do it in your nice clothes. You can take off your pants and jacket and hang them on the chair by the kitchen table."
He did as he was told. Mrs. Landtree folded her arms and observed him getting out of his shoes and socks, then turning around shyly to drop trou and hang them. There were baby blue bikini panties barely covering his tight round rump.
"You look ridiculous." She snapped her fingers and walked briskly toward the front door of her home. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned and saw the fright and embarrassment in his face. "I told Carol across the street to keep an eye out when she saw your car here. Maybe she'll get to see something. Now go find a spot to do your business and make sure you're pointed toward her window."
Jerkboy breathed out of his mouth at the open door and lighted front porch. "All right," she said and flipped off the porchlight. He trotted and turned left toward the plantings along the side of the house. His mother-in-law followed him leisurely and stood on the lawn, idly watching him hunt and find a place to squat, pull the panties under his balls to present his penis, and pee. When she heard him panting and the quiet splashing she told him, "Good boy. When you're done stay like that and play with your thing until it looks nice. Then you can come back inside and show me."
With that she left him humiliated and alone, locking the front door behind her as she walked smiling back to her kitchen. She noticed car lights moving past the window by the kitchen table. Good. The food was ready on a plate at the table when she heard a thump, and then the doorbell.
"Who is it?" she sung from behind the front door.
"It's me."
"Who?"
"Jerkboy."
"What's that? I can't hear."
When she had him sounding frantic she cracked the door and said, "Turn around, face Carol's house and use your hands to present yourself. Both hands. Now squat just a little so it's obvious what you're doing." She watched him comply. "Stay like that and don't you move, until I say go. Then you may come in." Mrs. Landtree counted to three in her head and then switched on the porch light. He gasped but he held position. She counted to five while she opened the doorway, stood to the side and then said, "Go!"
In he dashed, erection dancing ludicrously above his bouncing balls, down the hall and back into the kitchen. It was thrilling, even if she knew Carol was gone to play bridge on Thursdays. She saw him kneeling and presenting his sordid erection when she returned.
