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Chapter 15: Stuffed Mouse
The hash browns scatted about the frying pan, running away from the swift movements of the spatula that Sunday morning. With a few careful movements, Rebecca herded the hash browns back into a neat and ordered grouping once again. Again and again Rebecca stirred the hash browns and tended to the breakfast, lost in her own thoughts as she did so. The scattering and reorganizing of the hash browns echoed the scattering and reorganizing of her own life. She was still troubled over the events of the past four days since arriving at Sir’s house Tuesday night.
Rebecca knew who she was and what to expect from life at least that was true . . . before the pregnancy . . . before Heather’s . . . before the dark urges surfaced. Yet as Rebecca looked back on her life with an honest and open mind she could see that “Submission” had always been a part of her life, it had been simply re-labelled. Rebecca had always accepted the church’s time honoured view of marriage and the roles that a husband and wife were to take in it. Even as a child and teenager, she always did what she was told, looking to her parents for guidance and approval.
As far back as Rebecca can remember she always had a male authority figure watching over her. Primarily it had been her father, with her mother stepping in when her father wasn’t around, but always the orders and direction originated from her Father. Then there were the priests in the church, shepherding her in the ways of God. Finally there was Harold, her husband, who was the man and therefore the head of the family, his word was final. They would talk things over but once Harold made up his mind, that was it, that was what they would do.
Rebecca never questioned the order of things and always felt happy, content, protected, knowing that there was someone watching over her, guiding her. As Rebecca flipped the bacon she realized that all her life she had been a good submissive and never given it another thought. Domination and submission was all fine and good, as long as it was done within confines of the church and she was leading the life of a good and God-fearing woman.
It wasn’t until the “dark urges” started that her submissive side had caused her any pain. Looking back, Rebecca could see that early in her marriage, as she and her husband explored sex, that her desire to submit in the bedroom started to surface. Rebecca had been a good little catholic girl and saved her virginity for marriage, just like she had been ordered to by the church and her father.
In the throws of the early passion and eagerness for sex Rebecca found her desire to be controlled came out. It started when Harold came home really turned on and came at her with loving force. In his passion and eagerness he never asked Rebecca if she was equally ready, willing or even wanted sex. Before she knew it, she was on her back on the living room floor with her legs in the air. At first she was angry with Harold for not thinking about her at all and had decided to give him a stern talking to when the sex was over.
As she brooded over being simply taken, and used for her husband’s pleasure, it sparked. That was it, that was the origin of the “dark urges,” as Rebecca called them. The thoughts of being taken and used for someone else’s pleasure without a single thought or consideration given to her own wants, desires or needs excited her no end. Rebecca didn’t understand why being taken, and used turned her on so much but she was left with the fact that it did.
As a result, Rebecca would live for the times when Harold would get aggressive and take her, but as time wore on, Harold’s aggressiveness petered out. Rebecca tried to spark his encouragement by dressing in the ways he liked and a few times it worked. After being rebuffed one time too many, Rebecca never dressed provocatively for Harold of her own accord again, when she did, it was when she was told to.
Even though Rebecca was happy taking care of her family and serving her husband, the added kick of the sexual element left her wanting more. With Rebecca feeling unsatisfied with the regular aspects of sex, her own mind churned away in the background. At nights and in the quiet moments of the day Rebecca found herself dreaming up ways to be: used, taken, humiliated and serve her husband in the most objectified sense. She was shocked and disturbed by these dark impulses and never could bring herself to openly talk to Harold about such things. After one failed conversation during sex to get Harold to take charge more, Rebecca never brought up the subject again.
Rebecca found out about Heather’s as she shopped online for a simple vibrator, for her own personal use. A banner add on the website drew Rebecca’s attention; it was an advertisement for Heather’s. Rebecca looked at Heather’s site quite a few times before she decided to check it out in person. After a talk with Heather and a week of sleepless nights she decided to bursa escort explore these dark urges in order to get rid of them.
For the first while, it worked, her dark impulses were confined to that one day a week when she went to Heather’s. For the rest of the week, she could focus on and be happy in her good and wholesome life. For the weeks she skipped Heather’s she discovered that for the next week she was consumed with sinful thoughts and dark impulses. After six months it became clear that she was hooked, unable to go back to her life before BDSM, yet unable to talk to her husband about fulfilling that need in her life.
Rebecca’s true dilemma didn’t happen until eight months ago, it wasn’t until Sir that everything truly changed. She liked him, even when she first met him she liked him and wanted to serve him. The time that they had spent together had sustained her for the past eight months. As a result of Owen, she could not distance herself from her BDSM life; she had to admit that SHE wanted to serve him. No longer could she say that her “dark urges” were in control “Possessing” her like a demon.
That was the beginning of the end of her marriage and happy life. Even as she was feeling complete and more turned on in her life, Owen was planting his seed within her. That first meeting changed her life and even though she never admitted it, Owen, her “Sir,” as she still saw him had become the focal point of her life.
Rebecca was able to convince Harold that the child was his and that she was a good woman. Yet even as she was doing it, she knew it was an act which one day would come crashing down around her. It did, but not in the way she expected and as a result she was in the situation she was in. Rebecca was a divorced and disgraced woman, carrying an adulterous child of the man she had ruined her marriage for. Even all that did not really disturb her, these events were not the cause of her current troubled thoughts.
What really troubled Rebecca wasn’t how strange and alien things seemed while living in amongst this unique family, but rather how much at home she felt. Rebecca resisted the urge to give in and become one of them, but the pull to do so was strong. A part of her looked jealously at the Slave-Collars that all the women in the house wore and she felt left out for not wearing one herself. Many a time Rebecca found herself staring at the “Property of Owen Thompson” tag on one of the Slave-Collars and had to fight the urge to tear the collar off the woman who wore it.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the way the family was structured and behaved not only made sense to Rebecca, but she had to admit felt familiar. There was a foreign and familiar sense to this family that seemed to be the perfect mix of good family values and Domination and Submission. Rebecca was envious of the fact that each of these four women were able to serve their “husband” in a way that Rebecca had always wanted to serve Harold. In retrospect, if she and Harold had been able to explore Domination and Submission together, they would probably still be happily married.
Even stranger to the good catholic woman was the fact that even if you take the BDSM out of the equation there was still the Polygamy to contend with. Yet even this did not trouble Rebecca, as she knew it should. Rebecca knew that Sir had other women even when they got together eight months prior, yet she didn’t let that trouble her then. As she saw these women interact with Sir and each other, she didn’t see jealousy or envy but rather love and support.
Even as Rebecca fought to resist an intimate relationship with Sir, she could not deny that he was indeed a good and decent Master. He looked after his Slaves and treated them as wives, equal to each other and made sure that each woman felt loved and special. Even Rebecca was given this treatment and with each passing day she felt more like one of the family. In the moments when she was less than vigilant in her mental discipline she would wonder what it would be like to be married to her Sir. Every now and then Rebecca would daydream about being Collared and taking her place at her Master’s feet.
The religious side of Rebecca could not at all accept the BDSM, Polygamous or incestuous nature of Owen’s family. The good, God-fearing, catholic woman was shocked at everything around her: the Slave-Collars, the dresses, multiple wives, women having sex with women and family members romantically involved with each other! This part of her wanted to run away from Sir and never look back. The turmoil between her Christian side and her BDSM side, which was the source of her nightmares, was not resolved by coming to Sir’s house. Quite the opposite, it had now been brought to the forefront of her mind in the few short days she had been here at Sir’s house.
“You really don’t have to make us breakfast everyday!” Taryn said in a warm tone of voice as she wore an expression that was a mix between gratitude bursa escort bayan and chastising.
“I’m up early every morning anyways, so why not make myself useful?” Rebecca replied sensibly as she turned to look at Taryn, dressed for the day in her typical, dress and Slave-Collar.
“Well, thank you, but you are here for us to take care of you, so have a seat and let me finish this,” Taryn said as she walked up to Rebecca and gave her the standard family greeting.
After four days of receiving the intimate hug and lingering peck on the lips from four women, Rebecca was becoming used to it. Due to her service at Heather’s, she had kissed and had sex with women, but this was the first time outside of that place that she had allowed any kind of intimate contact with another woman to take place. Rebecca accepted it as another part of this unique family and while she wasn’t comfortable with it, she had to admit that the close contact left her feeling loved; so in truth she was warming up to it.
When the kiss was over, Taryn left one hand around Rebecca’s back, and rested it on the small of her back. Taryn put her other hand on the pregnant woman’s belly, yet another thing a pregnant woman had to get used to.
“Besides, you’re already doing so much for our family by carrying our first child,” Taryn said with a warm smile, looking directly into Rebecca’s eyes as she gently rubbed the pregnant woman’s belly.
Those simple words filled Rebecca with satisfaction and pride and she smiled at Taryn, her gracious, wordless response. This week had also brought the first time that anyone, even herself, had referred to true origins of the child she carried as a positive and pleasing experience. Rebecca could detect from the little things that the four women in the family had said that they were a little envious of Rebecca for carrying their Master’s first child. It seemed a little ironic that Rebecca privately envied their Slave-Collars, and they envied her child.
“Well, my feet are killing me, Thank you, Mistress Red,” Rebecca said with a smile, and without thinking of it she hugged Taryn and gave her the peck on the lips.
It wasn’t until she sat down at the table that Rebecca realized that she was beginning to adopt the customs and idiosyncrasies of the family. Rebecca smiled a thankful smile that she forced onto her troubled face as Taryn put the cup of coffee down in front of her. Rebecca had been told that in private to please use the “Slave Names” for each person in the family, and she did so. In return they called her Rebecca and not “Mouse,” as she wasn’t a Slave of Owen.
Rebecca had been told that she need not call Taryn “Mistress Red,” that “Red” would be acceptable, since she was not actually in the family and didn’t need to show respect to Taryn’s authority. Yet she constantly called Taryn “Mistress Red,” as it was the only title that seemed to fit. Likewise she was told to call Owen “Owen” and not “Master” or “Sir,” but try as she might, she could not refer to him as anything but “Sir.”
Similarly, Rebecca found herself fitting herself into the established power structure of the family. Even though she was pregnant and there to be taken care of, she subconsciously looked for ways to serve Owen. She looked to Taryn for guidance and never questioned anything she said, any request or suggestion of Taryn’s, Rebecca immediately followed. It was a constant and conscious struggle of Rebecca’s to think and act, like a guest and not the newest family member. As her conduct this morning would attest, it was an uphill battle, and not one she was sure she wanted to win, yet was fighting anyways.
“Are you sure you want to go to church this morning?” Taryn asked as she started to flip the eggs in the skillet.
“Of course!” Rebecca replied with a mildly shocked look on her face.
“I mean, are you sure you want to go to that specific church . . . Harold’s church,” Taryn replied as she looked over at Rebecca with a look of compassion adorning her face.
“It’s my church too! Why should I have to find some other place to worship, just because of Harold?” Rebecca replied with quiet determination before she took a sip of her coffee and glanced off in another direction.
“True . . . I just wondered if you’re ready to go back there . . . after the divorce,” Taryn said as she approached Rebecca and kneeled down beside her. “If it is important to you, we’ll all go together, as a show of support,” Taryn said with a smile as she conveyed her conviction with a look.
“It is, thank you, Mistress Red,” Rebecca replied with a warm smile of genuine gratitude to the woman she genuinely liked and already looked up to.
“Well, breakfast is almost ready, I should wake the others,” Taryn said as she stood up and started to walk back towards the kitchen.
“I’ll do it. I have to pee anyways. You dish up breakfast,” Rebecca said as she struggled to her feet.
“Are you escort bursa sure?” Taryn asked with a concerned tone of voice.
“I’m pregnant, I’m not an invalid!” Rebecca laughed as she walked towards Taryn.
Taryn joined Rebecca in laughter as she moved slightly to let Rebecca pass by. Rebecca grimaced at that fact and was momentarily self-conscious of her size. Rebecca walked over to the door to Rosina and Veronica’s room and knocked on the door. After knocking twice and getting no response, Rebecca opened up the door, expecting to have to shake Veronica awake. It was Rosina’s night to be with Owen so the only one Rebecca expected to see in the room was Veronica.
When she did open the door, Rebecca saw the last thing she expected to see and her reaction to it was as shocking to her as what she saw. Rebecca opened the door and as expected, the bed closest to the door, Rosina’s bed, was empty and looked like it had not been slept in all night. As she leaned in and turned her head to look at Veronica’s bed, her power of speech evaporated and she was mesmerized by the scene.
Karen and Veronica were on the bed and both were nude except for their Slave-Collars. Karen was on her hands and knees, her breasts hanging lewdly down below her, and her flowing, feminine form was glistening with sweat and enticingly on display. Veronica was kneeling behind her mother, eagerly fucking Karen with a strap-on dildo of normal proportions. The eager thrusting hip movements of Veronica caused her DD cup breasts to shake and jiggle wildly. Both women were breathing hard, and had their eyes closed as the daughter eagerly grasped her mother’s hair while fucking her senseless. Both women were being careful not to make too much noise, so as not to disturb others, thus why Rebecca didn’t hear them before entering the room.
Rebecca couldn’t take her eyes off the scene which at the same time struck her as perverted, disgusting and incredibly hot! Rebecca’s eyes repeatedly drifted back to the sight of Veronica’s large bouncing breasts. Karen’s only slightly smaller, swinging breasts were a close second in the competition for Rebecca’s ocular attention. What also demanded Rebecca’s gaze was the sight of the strap-on dildo disappearing into Karen’s pussy again and again.
Rebecca had begrudgingly accepted long ago that she was a “breast girl,” though she did not see herself as bi-sexual (such a thing was wicked in her eyes). Rebecca never admitted to anyone, but she herself knew that she appreciated the female form and loved the look of women’s breasts (the bigger, the better). During her time at Heather’s she had sex with numerous women but never had allowed herself to enjoy it, telling herself it was disgusting, perverted and saw it as a punishment. As a result she had knowledge and experience in pleasing a woman but never wanted to have sex with women ever again.
Yet even Rebecca couldn’t deny that she found the sight of one woman fucking another woman in such a dominating and commanding manner to be so wicked, and thus . . . so hot! Caught up in the heat of the moment, Rebecca imagined what it would be like to replace Karen in that scenario. This momentary fantasy scared Rebecca back to reality at lightning speed.
“Breakfast is ready!” Rebecca blurted out as she darted from the room.
Still shaking from her uncomfortable experience in Veronica’s room, she knocked louder on Owen’s door. Upon hearing a muffled bidding to enter, Rebecca opened up the door and leaned into the room and found a scene she found all too familiar and much more enticing. Owen was laying back in bed and he was totally nude and in bed with him was his sister, Rosina. Rosina was half-kneeling and half-lying as she sprawled across the large bed while giving Owen the now traditional wake-up blowjob. Rebecca stood there and was instantly taken back the first time she had met Owen and fondly remembered the long, leisurely blowjob she had given him while he and Heather talked. Looking into Owen’s eyes, she smiled at him before she looked at Rosina with envy, for being able to spend the whole night with him and being so close to the object of her desire. Rosina winked at Rebecca and kept her eyes on Rebecca as she slowly licked up the length of Owen’s shaft.
“Breakfast is ready,” Rebecca said and left the room, darting into the bathroom.
Rebecca locked the bathroom door behind her and quickly positioned herself on the toilet. As her bladder emptied she hung her head, running her fingers through her hair. She was mortified at the wet panties which sat at her ankles, silently witnessing how excited she had gotten watching the sex that morning.
“It’s like living at Heather’s” Rebecca mumbled to herself as she shook her head in frustration.
The enticing image of Veronica’s large breasts bouncing and jiggling wildly was burned into Rebecca’s memory. All through breakfast Rebecca found her gaze drifting down to the ample display of cleavage around the table as a result of the around the house dress. Rebecca managed to calm down and by the time the family was dressed in their “Sunday best” and on their way to church, Rebecca’s mind was in “church mode.”
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