Mrs. Waxerman - Cover

Mrs. Waxerman

Copyright© 2017 by Mike McGifford

Chapter 12

BDSM Story: Chapter 12 - From the Family Feud universe, a short story to see if there's interest in such a spinoff....

Caution: This BDSM Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   Slavery   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fan Fiction   Incest   Brother   Sister   Niece   Aunt   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   Sadistic   Spanking   Torture   Anal Sex   Bestiality   Enema   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Water Sports   Big Breasts   Body Modification   Clergy   Public Sex   Slow   Transformation  

“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but where are you from, Mike?” Doctor Hooker asked as Mike cleaned up his tools.

“I’m a kiwi,” Mike replied with a grin.

“You’re a fruit?” Mrs. Waxerman asked, pausing with her brassier around her midriff.

“A kiwi is the national bird of New Zealand,” Doctor Hooker said gently to Mrs. Waxerman. “You sound Australian, but not as nasally. I should have guessed.

“And um, you said you’d, ah, you know, you’d take it in the arse if I ah, wanted to?” Mike asked Mrs. Waxerman nervously.

“Well I never have, however I’m going to from now on, yes.” Mrs. Waxerman agreed, blushing.

“Well in that case, add me to yer calendar. And the he ... heck with it. Today is on the house. When’s the wedding? I can’t even imagine how the ceremony’s gonna go, ha ha!” Mike laughed.

Mrs. Waxerman gingerly arranged the cup of her bra over her new piercing before abruptly changing her mind. “Um, sir? I don’t think ... that is to say this engagement ring against my brassier ... ah, do you think I could...” Mrs. Waxerman was too embarrassed to ask the whole question, however Doctor Hooker got the idea.

“Just carry it in your hand, dear. It’ll be very pleasant to watch your breasts move as you walk anyway.

Mrs. Waxerman was pleased Doctor Hooker wasn’t going to insist on her wearing her bra, yet felt very self conscious about donning the blouse, braless. When Doctor Hooker offered to hold her cardigan, citing the warm temperature outside, Mrs. Waxerman knew it wasn’t just an offer but an instruction. She handed him her cardigan. Without the bra in place, the general size of her breasts was much more obvious, although their sag stopped her new piercing from tenting her blouse at nipple-level. Her breasts swayed envitingly as they left the store, Doctor Hooker pausing to take Mike’s card. Together they made their way back to Doctor Hooker’s Cadillac.

Once in the vehicle and buckled up, Doctor Hooker broached the subject of their marriage. “How long would you like to be engaged for, dear? In my opinion, we could get married immediately. We have each made our commitment to the other and the children seem fine with the idea, so now it’s just a matter of figuring out what the bride wants.”

“Since this is not my first wedding, I don’t need anything except to be married to you. I do have one question though, sir. How IS the wedding ring going to work? Will we have a regular ring for the pastor and a second ring for my ... you know what?”

“Well first of all, you must begin referring to your body parts as I’ve asked. You have teats on your udders, for they most certainly are udders, you have a cunt and an asshole. Your mouth is a drain, because that’s where cum and piss go. Down your drain. When we get home, please remind me to write these things down so you can remember to use the terminology you must always use as a whore. As far as the wedding ring goes, I want the ceremony to include affixing the ring to your right nipple. I guess I’ll have to talk with your pastor about it.”

Mrs. Waxerman visibly paled at the thought of pastor Daniels even laying eyes on her nipple, much less seeing it pierced and ringed. There was an abundance of silence as Doctor Hooker drove. Mrs. Waxerman spent the time coming to terms with what her fiancée wanted, and the realization that not only did she want it because he did, but because it felt right. Not that anything she’d done or would do in the future, such as baring her breasts in front of the pastor, would be anything other than humbling, but because she had a long way to go to atone for the life she’d led up to this point.

Comforted by the thought that her life and the lives of her niece and nephews were in good, God fearing hands, her thoughts drifted to what she’d wear to church the next day. When she next happened to pay attention to where they were, Mrs. Waxerman realized they were driving through some sort of trailer park. Doctor Hooker had been driving very slowly and it had been the music and laughter that had caught her attention. Already the music was falling behind them as Doctor Hooker navigated the arrow streets.

“What is this place, sir?” Mrs. Waxerman asked.

“I have family that lives here. I haven’t seen them in a very long time. We had a few differences of opinion a few years ago and as a result, it was easier to go our separate ways. Now that we’re to be married, and in no small way because of you dear, family has been in the forefront of my thoughts of late.”

“Family is important, sir. I have an older brother that I haven’t seen in a very long time as well. We all have skeletons in our closets, I suppose,” Mrs. Waxerman said wistfully.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. My family is however, something else. Would you like to hear about them sometime?”

“If they’re related to you, then they must really be fine people. Someone raised you right.” Mrs. Waxerman decided out loud.

“The more I think about it, the more I think that maybe disassociating myself from them for their views was a mistake. For now, let’s leave it at this. Although none of them was a Klu Klux Klansman, I began to think of my whole family as a kind of clan, and that’s why we don’t associate anymore.”

“Maybe you just never understood them properly,” Mrs. Waxerman suggested quietly. “My older brother was ostracized by our community when I was young. We even had to move and my father had to make up a story. I told you he was a preacher, right? Imagine how difficult that was for him. Lying to the neighbors. I think that the lie ended up killing him.”

“Whatever did he do that caused you to have to move? I thought you grew up in the mountains?”

“He kind of married my sister, sir,” Mrs. Waxerman admitted shamefully. “With your opinions about sex and family, I know I can tell you and you won’t get upset.”

“Thank you for your faith in me, dear. How does one ‘kind of’ marry one’s sister?”

“Delilah and the boys. Well, they’re not actually my younger brother’s children. They’re my younger sister’s children. When she passed, her husband felt no compunction to keep them, since they weren’t biologically his. My brother Methuselah, is still around somewhere, as far as I know.”

Mrs. Waxerman was obviously uncomfortable but she plowed on. “Anyway, when daddy found out his miracle child, Mary, was pregnant with Delilah, he married Methuselah to Mary. She’d only just had Delilah when she found out she was pregnant again. And again, and again. That’s why the children are so close in age. So there’s lots of children running around, only a few years younger than their mother. She was ten when she had Delilah and only thirteen when she had Gordon. Methuselah was in his late thirties when he first became a father. The neighbors found out and threatened to call the law. We had to move.”

“Okay, so your brother is the children’s uncle as well as their father. If he’s married to your sister and you moved to somewhere where no one knew you, why couldn’t Methuselah be the children’s father. No one would know.”

“Someone did contact children’s protective services. They finally tracked us down and took Mary and the children away. Methuselah was devastated. After a month or so he eventually just wandered off. Mary did come back of course. She married and we kind of adopted Derek as our brother. But she loved Methuselah. She died of a broken heart. Then I met my husband and you know the rest of the story.”

While she’d been talking, Doctor Hooker had been driving. He’d stopped outside a big house that while inside the trailer park, didn’t really seem to belong there.

“Not today, but soon,” Doctor Hooker mumbled to himself. He put the caddy back in drive and they moved on.

“Sir, where do you go to church?” Mrs. Waxerman suddenly asked.

The question came at Doctor Hooker from out of left field. “I no longer visit a building with a bell that has parishioners. Over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that people too often go to church for appearance sake and are totally different for the other six days of the week. In the same way that I distanced myself from my family, I did the same with the church I used to attend.”

“My daddy used to say that church is where the Lord is. A building with a thousand folk inside isn’t always a church. Most Christians want. They always want, he said. He believed that if people started giving instead of wanting, we’d be closer to God. Paul wanted out of prison but it’s where God’s purpose for him lay. I don’t want to be a whore, but I’ll be the best whore I can be. For you. For God. I will learn humility in ways I’ve never been able to before. I’ll learn to fully give, by giving all of myself, instead of just giving what I want.”

“Your father was a wise man, dear. Yet he wanted too, correct? He wanted his family left alone and he wanted them to be safe, fed and healthy.”

“He said that was the human condition. He didn’t want for himself, but those around him. He said that if he was given a thousand dollars, which was a lot of money back then, he was sure he’d just spend it. He’d want to spend it. So he was glad that God had never put that tribulation before him.”

“So he was saying that it’s okay to want for others, just not yourself. If everyone did that, then instead of one person wanting to better themselves, hundreds would be working for the betterment of one. I like that ideal.”

“By making Delilah a slave, you’d be saving her from making poor choices and allowing her to focus on just giving. I love Delilah yet I know she’s got a mean streak in her. That’s why I want you to do this for her. For God.”

“You still think it’s a good idea then?” Doctor Hooker asked rhetorically.

“If I may quote scripture, I think this covers all of us. Proverbs 26:3-12 A whip for the horse, a bridle for the donkey, and a rod for the back of fools. Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself. Answer a fool according to his folly lest he be wise in his own eyes. Whoever ends a message by the hand of a fool cuts off his own feet and drinks violence. Like a lame mans legs, which hang useless, is a proverb in the mouth of fools.”

“So are you suggesting I am a fool?” Doctor Hooker asked with a smile.

“I’m saying I think Delilah is the horse, I admit that I am the donkey and you need to treat us as we need treated, not as we’d like to be treated. I have been like the fool delivering God’s message and I’m ready to learn humility. I promise to follow your commands, even if they cause me to feel ashamed. I need to be ashamed.”

“Would you host a bible study at your house then?” Doctor Hooker asked.

“If you wanted me to, yes sir.” Mrs. Waxerman answered immediately.

Doctor Hooker knew she’d answered without thinking it through. “How do you think your group would feel about you hosting the study while following the rule I’ve set down about you being naked in your house?”

“Oh! Goodness gracious! Would you ... would you really insist...” Mrs. Waxerman couldn’t even finish the question.

“I certainly would. It would tell me whether or not you really believe that what I’m doing is right and proper. There are verses in the Bible that cover nudity. If it’s alright to do it in private then it should be just as acceptable to do it in public. It’s the same as saying you love God yet being ashamed to admit it to everyone around you. God gave you the body you have. It’s very beautiful. Yet you do everything you can to hide it. Like hiding your light under a bushel.”

“Then yes. I would be mortified, yet I’d do it. I’d do it proudly in God’s name.”

The trailer park was behind them and now Doctor Hooker had pulled in at another store. Another sex shop. Metro Adult Megastore Outlet. Signs all over the front of the store advertised what they sold. Doctor Hooker pulled out his wallet and removed a hundred dollar bill.

“I’ve never been in here but my understanding is that this store is a little different than the last one. I want you to go in by yourself this time. If there’s a man there called Buford, offer him a blowjob before anything else. If he says no, that’s okay. You must however, at least offer him one.”

“But why can’t you come in too, and how else would you know I did what you asked, sir?”

“Because I want to see if you can follow instructions and deal with any problems by yourself. If you’re telling me you cannot be trusted to do as I ask then you’re not the Victoria Waxerman you’ve portrayed yourself to be.

Mrs. Waxerman nodded her head, quietly accepting his instructions. She’d already done it with the guy at the tattoo parlor, so this would be no different. “Two more things then, sir. If Buford isn’t there, then do I just report that? And you said, ‘before anything else’. What else is there?”

“You listened to what I actually said, dear! Maybe you don’t realize it, but you don’t always do that. Use the money I just gave you. I want to challenge you, dearest. Despite what you may think about your first task, I have every confidence in you, so that’s not very much of a challenge.”

“You’re saying, if it was easy, it wouldn’t mean as much to you or God, right?” Mrs. Waxerman deduced.

“And that’s why I’ve decided on this challenge. I want you to purchase everything we need to dress Delilah as a slave girl. Get as much input as you can from whomever helps you in the store. I know she’ll need a collar, wrist and ankle cuffs, but I don’t really know what else a sex slave would need. Your challenge is to figure it out, but there’s also a challenge within a challenge.”

“You want me to take an active roll in making my niece a sexual slave,” Mrs. Waxerman guessed.

“Well yes, of course. You persuaded me to do it, after all. However this hundred dollar bill may or may not cover the cost of what you need to purchase. If you spend it all, you’ll spend ten hours in Mr. Snipe’s cage this evening. For each ten dollars you don’t spend, your time in the dog’s cage will be reduced by one hour. If you bring the whole hundred back, you don’t spend any time in the cage.”

Doctor Hooker did not want to insult her by telling her she could not shoplift to keep the cost down. He didn’t think that reminding her not to was necessary anyway, because he had every confidence that shoplifting was a foreign concept to her.

“I don’t think I’d fit in Mr. Snipes cage, sir. He’s not a very big dog.”

“Oh you’d be very uncomfortable, but you’d fit, I’m sure. That’s why you need to figure out how to bargain for the best possible price. Remember, you have hands, wonderful udders, a mouth and a nether hole you can call on to sweeten any deal you make.”

“Yet the first thing you want me to do, and for free no less, is to have me service this Buford person. That really does make it difficult, sir.”

“You’re an intelligent woman, Victoria. You know that as well as I do.

“What if I do not want to accept your challenge?”

“Then we will both know you’ve failed me as my wife-to-be because you didn’t want to work to succeed. It would not be cheating to ask for God’s help in the matter. After all, your primary goal is to be a good servant to Him. If He chooses to help you with this, then you’ll know He’s smiling on you. On the other hand, He may want you to face this tribulation without His help. You’ll have to find out.”

Mrs. Waxerman took the proffered hundred dollar bill and clutched it in her hand as she exited the vehicle. Even though they were on the far side of town, Mrs. Waxerman couldn’t help but look around before she slipped in the door, feeling like she was doing something sinful. Inside she paused, reminded herself that she was doing this for God and her fiancée, and generally gathering her courage. She walked somewhat stiffly up to the counter. A young, pimply-faced man of about nineteen asked if he could help her.

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