The Neighbor

"Well, gentlemen. It's a good thing we aren't wearing britches, because you're gonna ess when you see my royal flush." You blush in embarrassment that this corny curmudgeon won't even say "shit" when he's talking shit. You can't imagine how embarrassing it will be to live next door to your family along with your new owner? Or is it Daddy? From the way Mr. Roberts described earlier, it sounds like it falls between fuck maid and blushing bride. Well you're already blushing, and all the teasing and anticipation has you wishing he'd bend you over the table and claim his prize in front of everyone. In fact you are almost ready to beg for it...

"Well I hate to cut and run, but this wild filly needs a good effing to start taming her and the night is still young. I'll see you next month for poker and by that time I'll have this bad gurl behaving well enough to serve snacks." You cringe at the thought of it, but the idea of being "effed" so hard and long you actually want to obey appeals to your growing sense of perverse curiosity. Mr. Robert's casually put's his painter's slacks back on and takes you by the hand, leading you away from your old life forever.

You are trembling with trepidation as you make the short walk next door to your new home, or is it excitement? Either way, you feel like a feather could knock you over right now. As if sensing it, Mr. Roberts scoops you up and carries you over the threshold. It's so unexpected, and so unbelievably corny, but you the most unbelievable part is you find yourself burying your head in his powerful chest.

"Now, I know we have a patchy past, darlin'. But I'm hoping that with a firm, loving hand, you'll learn to love your new life with me. This house had needed a woman's touch for too long, and I think you've needed a real man's touch your whole life, whether you knew it or not." He holds you in his arms as if you were weightless. His words sink into you. As corny as they are, you find yourself almost wanting to believe his "Hallmark Original Movie" bullshit.

"I promise you three things. One if you disobey me the punisment will be swift, severe and something a pain loving peevert like you still won't get off on." You grow cold at the thought of what that means. Since your stinging, spurty spanking earlier, you thought you could be as naughty as you want and enjoy the sinning, and the punishment. Now you aren't so sure...

"Two, life will be hard here. You will cook, you will clean, and you will look beautiful at all times while doing it. I have more than earned a comfortable life of retirement with no need to earn another dime, but I still spend my days hard at work, helping my neighbors when things break down or they need some heavy lifting. and my community through charity work. I expect my wife to work just as hard keeping the home and herself in shape and immaculate."

You start to see your neighbor through new eyes. You always thought he was a lazy rich asshole boomer trying to get a kid to do his chores for him, and it turns out he's always been the hardworking one while you've been lazy. You wonder if this is a growing sense of admiration or the first signs of Stockholm Syndrome? Is your little clitty throbbing and drooling up against your tight rubber skirt a symptom of Stockholm Syndrome? If so, you've got it bad...

"Third, I promise that if you fulfill the first two promises on your end, that I will fill your heart and your sissy holes with so much love you will burst from it. And I will pull you back together again and again, and I can fill you with that overwhelming love for hours at a time without needing to rest. You will be my beautiful, "B" word bride, and if you call me "Husband", I will make sure you never want for anything."

You don't know what you're thinking, what you're feeling, but you do know what you're saying between sweet, sloppy, surrendering kisses as he carries you up to your bridal bed. "I do! Smack I do! Smooch I do! Kisssss"

He spends the night making love to you in every position you ever fantasized about making love to a girl in, and dozens more you never knew existed. But even in your filthiest fantasies the girl was never so lost in ecstasy, so lost in her passions. A lifetime of expertise has him turning your body into yielding putty, starting your transformation from bratty bimbo Bitch into blushing, blissful, Bride.

You soak the sheets in sissy squirts and still he shows no sign of stopping, controlling the pace of your total immolation with every thrust expertly hitting your sissy bullseye, his hands showing you euphoric erogenous zones all over your body you never dreamed existed, and his mouth claiming yours again and again, swallowing every wet whimpery "I do" you incoherently moan.

By the time he finishes inside you, roaring, "That's a good...nngh...fucking...nnng...BITCH... grrr...BRIDE!" you can only smile sweetly and coo contentedly in his powerful arms. You vacantly wonder if he'll curse for real every time he finishes "effing" you and giggle to yourself as you realize you are already beginning to find his corniness cute. You hate to admit it, but you are already falling for him after your first night of wedded bliss, but you wonder what it will be like after the honeymoon phase is over.