Trials of an Obese Wife

Chapter 2 Christine

 

    

     Christine climbed out of the bed careful not to wake Maurice.  He’d be furious if she did.  He had an early flight tomorrow leaving for two weeks at the home office in Lyon.  She quietly removed the DVD from the player then tiptoed into her closet.  Moments later she emerged carrying a nylon gym bag.

    She walked quietly down the stairs to the family entertainment center at the back of the house.  She placed the DVD in the player and picked up the remote control.  She put on the wireless headset as the large plasma screen flickered to life.  She pressed the fast forward button to reach the point where Maurice had turned the DVD off.  Interesting she told herself as the men attached car battery jumper cables to the brunette’s large breasts.  The spring powered copper points sunk deep into her soft flesh causing blood to seep from the edges.  The woman screamed as the man used his thumb and forefinger to extend and twist her nipples before allowing the clamp to snap shut.  Christine twisted her nipples imitating the DVD imaging how it would feel if those were her breasts being tortured.

      This is excellent S&M porn decided Christine as she studied the screen.  The camerawork and sound quality rivaled that of a first run Hollywood film.  The woman was pleading with the man to remove the clamps.  I’ve been there and I loved it but it’s been too long since I begged Maurice to stop hurting me.  I need to be like her ever so often or I’ll go out of my mind.

      After my spanking session I need to orgasm or I’ll be humping doorknobs thought Christine as she slipped off her nightgown then laid down on the couch.   Christine placed one leg onto the back of the couch as she positioned a throw pillow under her hips. 

     “Totally open and exposed like one of the whores in Paris who flash their pussies at cars,” whispered Christine opening the gym bag to remove a recently purchased warming jell.  The label on the plastic bottle promised to greatly sensitize those special places that give a woman pleasure.  That morning despairing of gaining Maurice’s attention, Christine had searched the Internet then driven to an adult store outside of town and spent nearly three hundred dollars on adult toys.  The clear substance contained both a warming agent and a chemical to increase sensitivity.  The store’s cashier had enthusiastically endorsed the product even offering Christine a personal demonstration.

     “My roommate and I use it to get each other off.  You could join us.  We like company,” said the young girl as she rang in Christine’s purchases.

     “Perhaps I will but let me try it first,” said Christine feeling tempted.  The girl wasn’t pretty but her face expressed a hard licentiousness that appealed to Christine.

     The jell produced a surprisingly strong effect.  “Oh fucking yes,” whispered Christine as she caught her clit in the web of her first two fingers.  She squeezed the sensitive nodule enjoying the discomfort.  I’m already so wet realized Christine feeling the presence of fluids coating her inner thighs. Her long graceful arm reached down allowing her fingers to locate her G-spot. 

     Why did I let myself gain all this weight thought Christine as she flicked her fingernail across the slightly rougher patch of flesh in the lining of her vagina?  I knew Maurice would be upset.  He warned me not to use the baby as an excuse to eat.  But what did I do?  Run to the store every chance I got to buy another pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

     For safety reasons we stopped all S&M edge play as soon as we got back from our honeymoon and learned I was pregnant.   I totally agreed with that.  It would have been foolish to risk Michael’s health.   We had good vanilla sex for the first three months but that was only when he happened to be home which wasn’t often.  But once he saw I was gaining weight, he refused to have anything to do with me even vanilla.  Tonight was the first time he’d paddled me since before I got pregnant.  And that wouldn’t have happened if Maurice hadn’t wanted his pubic region shaved before his trip tomorrow.  I wonder what my husband is doing that requires his balls be smooth as Michael’s bottom?  God knows what he and Jean Paul will get into in Lyon.  Those two are close, the opposite sides of the same coin.

     After a few minutes of manual stimulation she reached into the bag to extract an odd shaped dildo.  “G-Spot Zapper,” read Christine as she struggled to open the tamper-proof packaging designed to discourage shoplifting.

     I want things like they used to be.  He knows I desperately need our role-play and a good hard screwing but he refuses supposedly because I gained twenty-seven lousy fucking pounds.  He’s told our friends and his family one look at my enormous behind and he loses his erection.   That’s bullshit.  He didn’t have any trouble getting hard tonight.  That was his semen I swallowed not library paste.

     Maurice knows what I need but he refuses to give it to me.  He’s punishing me for disobeying him and not living up to his expectations for how the wife of a successful French businessman should look.  Now his bitch of a mother is sending one of the family whores to service him since his fat wife disgusts him.  How very French. 

     If he can be unfaithful so can I.  Except for that one time I’ve kept my legs together since we got engaged.  And that was with his brother Jean Paul who he allowed to fuck me like I was some common street whore.  Still, it was erotic the way with absolutely no concern at all; he shared me with his brother.  I knew it meant he really loved me.

    My married life is a mess but I have to hold things together for Michael’s sake.  If I lose the weight, that’ll prove to Maurice I’m loyal to him and we can take up where we left off.  I don’t want to go back to the kind of life I had before I met Maurice.  I don’t want to be the fuck toy of every man who looks my way.

     These should help get me off thought Christine removing and opening a package of plastic closepins she’d bought at Wal-Mart.  “You were my first real lover,” whispered Christine recalling her earliest experience with masochism.  Her breasts had barely begun to grow the first time she discovered the exquisite pain of placing her nipple between the spring-powered edges and allowing them to slowly close.  She had been proud of herself for resisting the almost irresistible urge to quickly take it off.  Gritting her teeth and taking long deep breaths she had gained control over the pain slowly turning it into that odd form of pleasure only her kind could experience.

     When Christine looked at her nipples, she saw they had become firm and erect in anticipation of what was to happen.  She held the clothespin up and pressed it open as she whispered, “I deserve you for making a pig out of myself.  For becoming fat and ugly.”

     Moments later, she exhaled her pleasure as the hard plastic edge bit into her flesh.  At first she struggled to resist the urge to remove it.  It’s been too long since I’ve felt real agony realized Christine.

     Pain under control she applied five more of the sharply biting clamps to the edge of her areola then one to the tip of her nipple.  Reacting to the sensation she closed her eyes and masturbated with the G-Spot Zapper.  Pleased with how her breast felt she applied clothespins to her other breast.  Satisfied for the moment, Christine watched the screen as she masturbated. 

     I’ve never tried electricity thought Christine watching the man touch the lead to the post of a car battery.  The woman’s reaction was immediate and startling.  She opened her mouth to scream but what came out was more of a chortle.  A moment later and she was able to express her agony as she screamed and twisted when the voltage ran through her breasts.   A tiny puff of smoke floated away from one of the battery clamps.

    On the other side of the room, the blonde was being caned. Loud wails of pain in response to the sharp snapping sound of bamboo on delicate human flesh drew Christine’s attention. This DVD is really hot thought Christine.  I wish I were the one being caned.  They’re both very pretty and the men are handsome in a cruel sort of way.   It would be exciting to be there, hanging by my ankles screaming, my body contorting and jerking from each blow as I begged him to stop.

     I promised myself that after I got married, I’d stop being every man or woman’s slut.  But now that Maurice refuses me, I’m finding it hard to control myself.  I’m not even sure Maurice wants a faithful wife.  He practically offered me Genevieve if I lost weight.  Most wives would envy my situation.

     I’m married to a Chernier, one of the oldest noble families of France.  They’re incredibly rich and surprisingly hard working.  I fit into their hedonistic pleasure seeking life style.  The family outside of his mother seemed quite impressed with my academic achievements.  Now I’ve gone and fucked things up by indulging my appetite for food using the fact I was pregnant and lonely as an excuse.  Maurice is right to be disgusted with me.

     In today’s egalitarian France, titles were no longer used but technically father and mother Chernier were Marquis and Marquesa. The family history dated back to the internecine war of the thirteen hundreds that placed the Bourbons on the French throne.  In the late seventeen hundreds the family was almost eradicated during the French Revolution

     Christine recalled the lecture on family history she had received from Maurice’s mother on her first visit to the family chateau outside the city of Lyon.  Madame Chernier, the family chronicler had recalled in detail how the peasants attacked the chateau in 1789 and burned it to the ground.  Having removed the physical symbol of their repression they moved to the human ones.  The Marquesa and her three daughters were subjected to a highly public rape.  Christine fingers stroked her clitoris as she relived her mother-in-law’s tale.

      “The sans culottes displayed them in the center of Lyon where hundreds had gathered to see the wives of the nobility publicly humiliated,” said Madame Chernier standing in front of the portrait of the beautiful female who was the Marquesa of her story.

     “How awful.  She’s very beautiful,” said Christine admiring the picture and wondering what if would be like to be naked in front of a large crowd.

     “She was high born, a Rochefort, the daughter of one of Louis’s ministers.  Simon Lagrange was in charge of the Committee of Public Safety in Lyon.  He had an unfortunate history with the Chernier family.  Two years earlier, he had been employed in the kitchen at the chateau.  The Marquesa caught him stealing food.  He claimed he was only taking home scraps to feed his starving family.  The Marquesa called all the servants together in the courtyard.  Marie Rochefort Chernier was not someone to leave the punishment of crimes to others.”

     “How did she punish him,” asked Christine?

     “The man proved an awful coward begging the Marquesa to spare him.  He threw himself at her feet.  She had her footmen remove his clothes and bind him upright to a post.  The Marquesa suspected other of the servants were stealing and she wished to make Monsieur Lagrange an example.  A coachmen’s whip was fetched from the stables.  The Marquesa, although a noble woman of great beauty and delicacy proved more than equal to the task of making the miscreant suffer for his crime.  When early on, he fainted; she had him revived before she continued.   Her skill with the whip was remarkable.  She was able to call out each testicle, first the right and then the left, and land the metal-sheathed tip precisely on target. His screams served as a warning to those who did not respect the property of their bettors.”

     “Acquiring such skill must have required practice,” said Christine.

     “The Marquesa was an expect horsewoman and one who enjoyed driving her own coach.  In those times, the mistress of a great house was expected to maintain order among her household by the frequent use of the riding crop or cane.  Maids and servants were lazy indolent creatures.  Not a week would pass without the Marquesa having to punish some failing on their part.  She recorded their transgressions in her journals” said Madame Chernier.

     “I would love to read them,” said Christine.

     “And you shall my dear. They’re in the library.  Somehow they survived the fire.”

     “Please continue the story,” said Christine.

     “When the criminal could no longer be revived, she had him thrown off the estate. Everyone remarked on the stamina the Marquesa exhibited.  How her arm never tired and the last blow was just as strong and accurate as the first.  Unfortunately for the family, Lagrange took an active role in the Revolution and was elected head of the Committee of Public Safety.  One morning he arrived at the chateau with a large force.  They ransacked and burned everything.  The ignorant savages destroyed priceless antiquities and works of art.”

    “It’s beautifully restored.  Maurice has promised to show me the dungeon after lunch,” said Christine.

    “From their youth, Maurice and Jean Paul have shown a strong interest in that aspect of our family history,” said Madame Chernier.

    “I am looking forward to meeting Jean Paul. Maurice said he’ll arrive this afternoon.”

    “Maurice and Jean Paul are very close.  They never argued when they were children and seemed to be of one mind on how to entertain themselves.  But they work entirely too hard especially for ones so young.”

    “Please tell me more about the Marquesa.”   

    “The Marquesa and her three daughters were placed in a tumbrel and taken to the jail like common criminals.  They were tried by the Committee and sentenced to death by the guillotine.  However, a simple straightforward execution would not satisfy Lagrange’s lust for revenge.  He announced there would be a public display preceding their execution.”

    “I’ve read the noble wives were brutally gang raped before they were executed during the Revolution,” said Christine.

    “Yes, what better way to avenge yourself on your betters than to force your seed inside them. That was Lagrange’s plan but he failed at least in the execution phase.  He spent recklessly of public funds to construct a platform in Lyon’s main square.  On the designated day, the four women were taken from the jail. The mob roared at their arrival and the sad state of the noble woman and her daughters.  The jailers had used the Marquesa for their pleasure. 

     The Marquesa was led to the center of the platform.  The order for her execution and punishment was read.  Members of the Committee ripped her clothes off then tied her to a X-shaped cross.  LaGrange stepped forward with a coachman’s whip identical to the one the Marquesa had used on him.   He whipped her until she fainted then revived her by the application of a salt brine.  Salt applied to the open cuts was hideously painful.  LaGrange himself dipped the sponge into the bucket and pressed it to the Marquesa’s flesh.  Her ivory bosom had been the envy of Paris when she was young but now covered in the gashes left by LaGrange’s whip; it was the source of hellish pain as the crystals of salt found their way into the lesions.  The onlookers cheered her piteous cries.  After an hour, each of the three daughters was brought onto the platform to suffer a similar punishment.  They went mad with pain when the coarse salt was pressed into their wounds.”

     “I’ve read the application of salt to a cut is very painful,” said Christine.

     “The last daughter to be whipped was the youngest.  Her name was Sister Celine. It had only been a month since she had completed her novitiate at the Convent of Cluny where she had taken her sacred vows of marriage to our Saviour.  She was of course a virgin until that day.  LaGrange had forbidden the jailers to touch her so the entire city could witness her defilement.  LaGrange himself insisted on being the first.   She cried out for the Blessed Virgin to preserve her honor.  The crowd mocked her piety.  LaGrange’s penis was large and hideously deformed.  She fainted at its sight.  The Marquesa offered her own body in place of her daughters but LaGrange was merciless.  Sister Celine was slowly stripped of her habit.  Each garment flung to the mob.  Her hands were cruelly bound with her rosary.  At precisely the hour our Lord died on the cross, LaGrange knelt between her outstretched legs and with a cry of triumph took her honor.  She screamed in pain as her virgin blood spilled onto the platform.”

      “I cannot imagine how it must have been for a nun to suffer such a terrible fate,” said Christine.

      “Lyon’s scum laughed at their nakedness and pelted them with garbage.  Men and even women climbed on the platform to place their rough hands between their ivory thighs and violate their sex.  Finally tiring of their game of humiliation and abuse of their bettors, they threw them down and the rape began.  Long queues of the unwashed waited their turn.  The poor women, coddled all their lives by family and servants, had to endure the sexual predations of hundreds. Only nightfall ended their suffering.  Due to the drunken state of their captors and with the help of friends, the Marquesa and her daughters were able to steal away.  They managed to get to England where they remained until the defeat of usurper Napoleon and the restoration of the monarchy.  When they returned to Lyon, the Marquesa saw that those who had taken the lead in her punishment were themselves punished.  Unfortunately Simon Lagrange had fled to American and was never heard from again.”

     Madame Chernier had recounted the story to Christine standing on the chateau’s wide staircase before portraits of the family.  Christine recalled thinking Madame was a little too animated and excited by the story of the family’s ordeal.  She wondered if Madame Chernier vivid retelling was embellished by her imagination.  Perhaps thought Christine she imagines herself spread out naked on the rough planking surrounded by sans culottes stroking their hairy cocks as they waited their turn to mount her.

     “And the Marquis, did he escape too,” asked Christine looking up at the family portrait of the round faced man standing by the Marquesa.

     “Oh not at all, after they tired of sodimising him they hacked off his testicles and forced him to swallow them washed down by a Bordeaux from his own cellar.  Then the savages stuck a heated iron up his rectum.  It took him several hours to die.”

     Andre, Jean Paul, Catherine and Maurice were the children of the wealthy banking family.  Andre the youngest worked in the Paris branch.  Maurice the eldest had been dispatched to the United States to open a Boston branch as part of a planned expansion outside France.  Catherine was engaged to be married to a high official on the European Union’s central bank.  Jean Paul was Vice President of European Operations

     Two years before, Christine had been finishing her doctorate in international finance with a year’s study in Paris.  Friends aware of her sexual nature had introduced her to Maurice.  It had turned out to be an excellent match.   A year later they had married.   Maurice and his family had been thrilled when Christine returned from the honeymoon pregnant.  When the first ultrasound detected the presence of a male, the family’s response had been joyful.  Christine blamed herself for ruining everything by gaining too much weight during her pregnancy.