Hausfrau: The Next Day

After a rejuvenating sleep Margarethe rolled over and tugged the leash attached to her husband's penis. He bit the gag he was wearing and the bed light clicked on. "Good morning, Brigette." she said lazily. "I had the best sleep since you first told me you loved me. How was your night?" He clicked the lights on and off twice. Two clicks for yes, one click for no. She lay there looking up at her husband. He was perched where she fastened him last night. He was wearing mint green 6 inch high heels, a mint green corset, green arm binder, green neck brace, and green gag. His ankles and arm binder were attached to the bedside table. "Look at you, my little gargoyle, watching over me while I sleep. I'm really flattered that you adore me so, but I think you squatting there all night is a little creepy, don't you?" Behind the gag, he frowned. He clicked twice for the 'right' answer. His wife rolled out of bed and opened the window shutters. Sunlight beamed in, illuminating his flacid penis with the lock and leash. The pubic hair shown a bright pink. It matched the hair on his scalp. "Looks like your peewee is still sleeping." She said with a pouty face. "It's nothing like your man-shaft last night. I rode you like a pogo stick. Wow! I think my vagina is still numb. Let me warm you up before I let you down." She knelt down and put his shriveled penis and ball sack in her mouth and set to work. As she did so, she noticed the clock's hour hand was cheerfully on the 8.

"8 O'clock!" She half choked, half yelped as she pulled his growing penis out of her mouth. "My train to work leaves in 20 minutes. I've got to get ready!" She ran to her closet just out of Gerrig's eye sight. "I should have been up an hour ago. Why didn't you wake me? We'll discuss your punishment when I get home." She looked over at him in pity. Then went over and removed the gag. "Look, I don't have time to find the keys," she gestured to the locks on his ankles and arm binder. "You'll have to stay here today. Is there anything you need before I go?" She ran out of the room and he heard the bathroom sink turn on. He looked at himself in the mirror across the room. It's nearly all he could see with the rigid bindings. He squirmed but nothing gave. A moment later the sink turned off and he heard his wife clacking around the apartment in her work flats. She appeared a moment later with makeup done and hair pulled back. She looked a different person from the one that left the room...almost. Her ordinary if conservatively bold gray pencil skirt, navy blue blouse, and lab jacket concealed the binding truth of their relationship. She had a choice to wear a skirt, her husband didn't.

She came over to him with a glass of water and a straw. "I brought you some more muscle relaxers. I don't want you getting cramps while you wait for my return." She fed him the pills and he greedily slurped the water. "Don't drink too much now, you won't be able to use the bathroom," She warned. "Also, I thought you might get bored sitting here looking at yourself in the mirror, so I brought you something to listen to. It's not to your usual caliber, but it's the only audio book I have with me. Still, I think you can relate to the main character." She then fixed giant headphones to his head and pressed play. She crouched down and took another mouthful of his growing erection then popped up and kissed him tenderly on the lips. As she made her way to the door, he noticed the lipstick ring she left on his cock. It was the same coral pink he wore last night. He had picked it to match his panties.

On the headphones, a woman introduced the title, "The Power of Strong Arm Jack." As the narrator began reading, Margarethe turned and said something inaudible to Gerrig. He felt she wouldn't have said it if it wasn't important. He tried to ask her to repeat it but she just waved her hand, smiled, and left. The room shook slightly as the front door shut and was locked from the outside.

He had all day to burn, so he tried to invest himself in the audio book. The narrator was droning on about her husband's boss named Jack. She'd met him at a co-worker picnic the month before and spared no time for the extra marital affairs, hers and Jack's. The author spent great lengths to describe Jack's commanding sexual energy and the way sweat dripped from his body after they made love in a sauna. "This woman is a moron!" Gerrig murmured aloud. "The book wouldn't be awful if she could write, but this is illiterate trash." He squinted in the mirror and saw the clock face. Only twenty minutes had passed and he already felt his brain going numb.

The narrator's monotonous sexscapades buzzed in Gerrig's ear like the mosquito that won't leave. It irritated him and he tried to shake the headphones off, but to no avail. He took a small solace in watching the beam of light from the window move across the room. His member and crouching body were left in shadow. Somehow he made it an hour. He was surprised how bored he was. He had been on his feet almost every waking hour for the past month and when he wasn't, he was tied up in the closet with the lights off. If his wife had asked him yesterday, "How does it sound to do nothing and listening to an audio book all day?", he would have done anything for it. But now, he laughed that he was dreaming of cleaning dishes, vacuuming, and the constant clacking his heels made as he moved about the apartment. He longed for the busyness of activity or the sensory deprivation of the closet.

About nine thirty, there he heard a definite knocking sound. It came from the front door. He strained to hear more but couldn't focus due to the author's infatuation with Jack. Again the door shook. Then a man's voice called through the door, saying something indistinct in German. He felt the door open. He held his breath as he hoped the audio book couldn't be heard. The man walked through the apartment repeating the same words. Finally, Gerrig understood, Repair Service. He heard the knock on the bedroom door and it creak open a few centimeters. Margarethe hadn't locked the bedroom door and Gerrig was horrified. Before the door could open further, a second man's voice spoke up.

"It sounds like no one's here. We'll just replace the wiring and go".

Then he heard the first voice say, "I heard someone in the bedroom."

The other voice replied, "No, that's just the radio. Don't touch the resident's stuff. They always complain. Even if you're trying to be helpful." Then both men went into the room on the other side of the wall, just behind Gerrig. Within a minute, they were drilling a migraine into Gerrig while the audio book droned on about the texture of Jack's erect cock and taste of his semen. He couldn't think about anything. Just focus on the growing headache.

The drilling continued, then hammering. The men were working just on the other side of the wall behind him. He was petrified. Any noise he made, he feared they could hear him. He thought about last night and Esmerelda's surprise visit. He'd been worried she would see him, but he also felt there was no great shame in being discovered by a woman. And when a woman did discover him, he accepted her presence almost philosophically. During his previous month as a hausfrau imprisoned in his wife's apartment, he'd come to a refined understanding of his nature. He liked strong women. He derived a certain satisfaction from the authority of strong women. Even the most assertive or mocking weren't a threat to his own sexuality because he was still a man and they weren't. They were their own breed of woman and he admired them even when they made him suffer which he'd willingly endure as long as they showed appreciation. With men, however, there wasn't a peaceful coexistence. Either he intimidated and challenged them, or the other way around. He could be submissive with women, but he was still an alpha among his own sex. Margarethe liked his competitive nature. It pleased her to see how manly he was to other men, but to her, he was still an alpha, but an alpha willfully submitting...and willfully resisting. His stubborn defiance made him so much fun. It prevented her from completely sissifying him and finding another lover. She wasn't turning him into the woman of their relationship, she was turning him into the man.

Later in the morning, the thundering sounds behind him gave way to a faint drilling near the far window. He signed, relieved. They wouldn't be returning to his wing of the apartment. As he sighed, he heard a burst of laughter at the doorway. It was not the pitying laughter of Esmerelda, when she compared him to a house dog stuck in his leash, but the conquering laughter of a man who found someone weaker. The next moment another man's laughter joined the first. Gerrig strained to look at them, but he couldn't. He concentrated, furious, then stammered in German with the strongest voice he could muster. "If you're going to laugh, laugh to my face." The laughter stopped and the two men came over, sat on the bed, and surveyed him curiously. One of them plucked the leash, still attached to the headboard. His penis shook slightly with the vibration.

They held back their laughter, but they looked him up and down, smiling, and whispered inaudibly to each other. He feared they would pull out phones, start taking pictures, emailing friends. He forced a loud laugh, booming harder than he had laughed in years. Humor for a man, is an assault. A pathetic man that laughs at himself is untouchable. He is shameless and has conquered public judgement. This laugh startled the two repairmen. They began to look uncomfortably at each other. They had stumbled upon a man tied up and feminized, a vulnerable man ripe for abuse, yet they were the insecure ones. Gerrig boomed out, "suck my dick!". The one that had plucked the leash glared back, revolted. The other one, however, looked over at his co-worker and back at Gerrig, desiring him timidly. He caressed the flacid penis with pink public hair. He massaged it with the gentleness of a woman's touch. Gerrig couldn't help but get aroused. He worried slightly that his plan was backfiring, that he liked it. Then he reconciled, "No, this is better. Let him know what a man tastes like."

The repair man kneeled down and set to work. Gerrig watched in the mirror as his head bobbed up and down. He watched the disgusted face of the other repair man and he grinned back. The man on his knees clearly had done this before. He was too good for this to just be an in-the-moment situation. As he worked, the relative quiet brought his attention to the droning audio book. At this point of the story, the unnamed female narrator was liaising with Jack in the factory's storm shelter every lunch break, while her husband worked the floor. Gerrig imagined himself as Jack getting a blowjob from a moderately attractive housewife with a libido on overdrive. Yes, he commanded power and he was strong arm Jack, strong cock Jack. He felt the rising pressure and release. He pumped hard into the repair man's mouth so quickly he choked briefly, before he licked the remaining residue off Gerrig's now deflating penis. Gerrig had succeeded. He had mocked the electricians. He out laughed them. "You can leave now!" he commanded. "There is the door, now go."

The electrician at his knees stood up and hesitated. He looked toward the door, his co-worker, and at Gerrig. He smiled and climbed up, levelling his eyes level with Gerrig. What happened next took him by surprise. The electrician leaned up, pulled Gerrig's head forward, and kissed him on the mouth long and passionately. He forced his tongue through Gerrig's dry lips, thrusting a mouthful of slime into Gerrig's mouth, holding it there so long he had to swallow it and gasp for breath. The captive man-turned gargoyle quivered with revolt, first at the man's tongue, then second as the taste filled his mouth and slid down his throat. His own cum. He convulsed in horror as his plan backfired, angered that he couldn't pull away. On the droning headphones, Jack said to the narrator, "Swallow everything, Brigette, you need a full meal before you hurry home to prepare your husband's dinner."

Gerrig felt a shock of hurt and confusion. The very moment when he had lost control of the situation and was forced to swallow his own semen, the narrator named Brigette was also swallowing semen. He could only dimly wonder how. How had Margarethe coordinated this humiliation? So elaborate, so orderly, so Margarethe. Once he regained his senses, he yelled at the repair men, "Go!". They gathered their things and made to the door. The one that had sucked and kissed him turned back one last time and winked before he left. A moment later the apartment shook as the heavy wooden door was pulled shut and locked again from the outside.

Gerrig's libido was drained. The slow buildup from last night and this morning had come and went. He was disgusted and violated. His ball sack had slowly filled with cum during the night and with Margarethe's parting kiss. He had been ripe and ready to be expended. A breeze could even have set him off. Then finally, as he climaxed he imagined he was Jack and the electrician was a woman. Then the audiobook and kiss ruined everything. That small victory was taken from him. He wasn't gay. He wasn't even bisexual. All his recently developing BDSM appetites were with women. Now, after the men left, he was emotionally and physically used.

After they left, he gagged and coughed, spitting the remaining cum out of his mouth. "Disgusting. Absolutely wretched. I don't understand how anyone could stomach that." He kept spitting out the residue and struggled to put what had happened into words. As he reflected this all Brigette's monolog flooded his ears. "After I sucked Jack clean, I licked the residue off his manshaft. His essence filled my mouth, my throat, and soon would fill my stomach. I held back my disgust because I wanted to please him. He stood over me, and asked almost gentle, 'Brigette, how was lunch? How do I taste?' I stood up to kiss him and he pushed me away. He scorned me, 'What? Do you think I want to taste myself? No semen, mine or anyone else's will ever enter my mouth as long as I have a dick to fuck who I want and when I want." As the narrator read this last part, Gerrig wanted to cry. He wasn't a victor, he was Brigette.

He struggled to distract himself from his epiphany by concentrating on the story. He tried hard to imagine himself as Jack, but the damage was done. He had called her by name, Gerrig's feminized name, Brigette. He imagined himself as the narrator Brigette. In his mind, Gerrig is licking the sweat off Jack. Are they back in the sauna? No, they're in a forest at night now. She is trying to convince her husband's employer to leave his wife and she'll leave her husband. 'We'll have double dates' Brigette says. 'They'll get to know each other, so when we leave, they'll find solace in each other's arms...Just like us.' Jack then pushes her head to his cock so she'll stop prattling. Jack says to her "cheeks bulge like a chipmunk's because they're so full of nuts." Jack laughs hysterically and she remains silent. Gerrig groans as the story somehow gets more awful and his pain killers are starting to wear off. He slowly tries to bend his elbows but the leather binder barely gives. He wriggles his toes and sees the pink nail polish flash in the mirror through his open toed heels. He tries to roll his neck but the brace keeps his shoulders down, his head upright, and his face looking straight ahead at the mirror. He gazes disconnectedly at the figure in the mirror and without thinking says, "she looks ridiculous with her exposed penis on a leash".

The shadow slowly moves across the floor. Time passes. Gerrig surprises himself being grateful for the audiobook. Without it, he'd be utterly bored. A tiny well of appreciation for Margarethe creeps in, replacing the initial malice he felt with the audio book trick. She picked a trashy romance with the character whose name was the same as his. She kept finding more ways to humiliate him and put him in his place. Yet, she considered his welfare enough to give him muscle relaxers and something to listen to because she left without unlocking him. She had overslept because he neglected to wake her. He can only blame himself for the position he finds himself in. She couldn't find the keys because she was in a hurry. That's understandable. After all, who hasn't misplaced something because they were in a hurry?

These slow burning feelings of affection for his wife mingled with his analysis of the audio book. Jack defeated Brigette because he didn't care. His affair is purely physical and easily substituted by another subordinate's wife. Her affair is psychosexual and desperate. She needs to believe she has a future with Jack. When their affair runs its course, her soul has been pulverized. At least she's got her naïve husband Jonas. He'll love her regardless. He won't please her, but he won't leave her either. Brigette feels confident Jonas still worships her. She's satisfied that Jonas couldn't do any better than her. After Jack ruins her, he aims for Jonas.

Jonas comes home and pitifully tells his wife, "Jack fired me because he said I was having an affair with his wife! He called up Kenneth from Legal and Kenneth showed me his evidence." Jonas started sobbing, clutching his wife for support. She looked down at her wet noodle of a husband, and just imagined jack's arms like they were a lost paradise. Gerrig empathized with Jonas's despair and longed for a warm hug and be told everything was okay. Brigette looks down at her husband and puts her hand on his cheek. Absent minded and tenderly, she says, "Jack, it'll be okay." After she says it her eyes bulge from her head. Jonas looks up at her hurt and confused. He finally stammers with a cruel smile, "I knew you were having an affair with him!" She was stunned. He'd known for quite some time. "Brigette, now you sit here like some helpless woodland animal. Don't you have anything to say?!"

The narrator continued, "When Jonas called me a helpless woodland animal, I remembered how Jack used to say I looked 'like a chipmunk' every time my mouth was full of his shaft. He'd laugh as he said it, at first with affection, now I realized he was mocking me even as I gave myself to him. All along I thought I was playing Jonas but both he and Jack were playing me. I felt so vulnerable and lost. I didn't say anything and Jonas came right up to my face and asked, 'Brigette, how did you like the taste of Jack's semen? Maybe we should add semen to your daily diet shakes? Did it make you feel in charge like a man? You never are in charge. Can you laugh off your humiliation now? Don't worry, I'm not going to leave you, even if you are a little fuck slut. But about your high libido, I'll just keep you a slave to your desires, Brigette, my little German housewife.' As Jonas said this last part, his feeble voice became resonant and his back straightened. His confidence made it clear he wore the pants of the family and I was his wife. My soul flooded with a new feeling, I wanted to be his wife. I wanted him to punish me when I strayed because I was being selfish. He was faultless. He'd sacrifice everything to keep our marriage together. As I thought this, my contempt melted away. He carried me to the bed and handcuffed me to the headboard. Strong and gentle. He blindfolded me and before I knew it, my whole body was convulsing with waves and waves of pleasure."

The book suddenly ended there and Gerrig was disoriented. He was Gerrig, a Canadian man living in southern Germany with a freelance photography business. His wife Margarethe called him Brigette and as part of a BDSM sex game they've been playing for the past month. She used words like house wife or hausfrau as terms of endearment and praise. But the narrator was hypnotizing. At first, he had found the monotonous reading insufferably dull and irritating. But then, near the end, the narrator found her rhythm and was became sensual and calming like herbal tea and a gentle massage, or a new age Hari Krishna mantra. He kept thinking about the story from her perspective...because the author's first person point of view, he reasoned. It was natural to identify with the heroine of a book when it was written in her voice. If it was from Jack or Jonas's point of view, he would have identified with them. If it was from the gardener, he would have observed the whole domestic melodrama with the lurid disinterest of a household servant.