Wayward Wife's Punishment
Chapter 22
Nurse Nora knew exactly what she was doing. She checked Jill's heart
with a stethoscope and took her pulse before turning to the camera and
announcing, "This creature has reached her limit of endurance, further
stimulation will not change the situation. It's time for her body to rid itself
of this foul intruder responsible for her obsessive, antisocial behavior."
I gave her little speech a big thumbs down for being cliched, obtuse and
florid in the extreme. All she should have said was, "Folks, it's show time".
Settling back in my comfortable lounger that by now had conformed itself
perfectly to my less than ideal body, I awaited the main event. It started with
an enema; a sort of pedestrian opening for such a momentous occasion. That just
goes to show how much I knew about inducing labor.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as Jill squirted the contents of
the enema bag into a large economy sized bedpan and finished off with a number
of loud, juicy farts announcing that this part of the process had been
completed. Seconds later she let out a yelp, as if someone had pinched her ass
without permission. This was followed by a moan that turned into a groan; they
are different in case you didn't know that. I could see that my dear wife's
belly had continued to grow slightly. I was almost expecting something to pop
out from her navel announcing that she was ready to drop a lot of weight really
quick. Such was not the case.
She treated the audience to a potpourri of sounds that included the ever
popular scream, the more discrete yip or yipes, and a variety of low sounds that
could be interpreted as eithr moans or groans. She then graduated to the upper
ranges providing my stereo system, in particular the tweeter, with a great
workout. She delivered a series of shrill sounds that were either shreiks,
wails, keens, squeals, squeaks or screeches, every one guaranteed to make you
feel as if someone was running their fingernails up and down a chalk board, one
of my very favorite sounds.
While all this commotion was occurring, the camera zoomed in on her
bulging belly so one could see the flesh rippling as she strained to rid herself
of this unwanted obstacle to a better sex life, whore that she was. The camera
moved back to include her face, now nearly scarlet, with a torrent of tears
pouring down her puffed out cheeks, and her eyes bulging from their sockets as
she tried to will the massive lump in her uterus into motion. This sight
combined with the background noise she was delivering made for an eerie scene. I
hit the pause button to catch my breath. It looked as if I was in for a long
evening.
I raided the frig and returned, fortified with a bag of chips and a
beer. "Let there be noise" I said to myself as I hit start on the recorder. Jill
delivered big time. She was now screaming for very lengthy periods before
pausing to grab some oxygen. I clicked on the screen timer and watched as she
provided a series of yells that clocked in at from 35 seconds to the big one, a
screamer lasting one minute and twelve seconds. I'll say one thing for my
faithless wife, she had a great pair of lungs, in more ways than one.
Nora returned to center stage and mugged shamelessly for the camera
before announcing that it was time for Jill to receive a little more help. I
winced when she produced a thick strap and buckled it in place on the stops
mounted on the sides of the table. Without as much as a by your leave she
proceeded to cinch the wide composite belt as tight as Jill's big belly would
allow. She cut her off in mid scream for maybe a half minute and then all hell
broke loose.
My wayward wife began to bellow like some kind of a wounded animal. The
tendons in her neck nearly split the skin covering them. Her face was beginning
to move from red to some kind of mottled color that was difficult to describe,
it was kind of blotchy, super ugly, sort of the onset of death look.
Almost on cue the camera homed in on her pussy which was doing tricks.
Her cunt lips were moving and I swear I expected that pussy to start talking, or
maybe joining in on Jill's screaming, possibly doing the bass line. She began to
bounce her bloated body up and down against the straps and the belt now cutting
her midsection in half. It was not a pretty sight. I was so caught up in what
was happening I never opened the bag of chips, but I did take a big swig of that
cold beer, the first of many swigs from quite a number of cans.
In a normal pregnancy contractions are generated to cause the fetus to
begin moving down the chute while at the same time the opening of the vagina
begins to dialate. So much for the myths about pregnancy that I learned from
some of my drinking buddies who were forced to witness this alien activity. In
Jill's case nothing like this happened. In a word, the bitch was screwed, big
time; I guess that's more than one word, but you get my drift.
Nurse Nora got the ball rolling with another massive injection from one
of her caulking guns that always seemed to materialize out of thin air. It
didn't take long for whatever she shot into Jill to take effect. Her struggling
slowed and the volume of noise issuing from her open wound of a mouth was
reduced by many decibels. Things began to happen on all fronts. Jill began to
experience cramps that made her start screaming again, but only in spurts as
they rolled through. The mouth of her cunt began to wink at me, a thoroughly
disconcerting phenomenon. I'd done a lot of time on and in that twitching clam,
and never had I experienced this kind of motion, despite whatever illegal sexual
activity we found ourselves engaging in. This was very freaky.
What happened next was flat ugly. The thin brunette produced a number of
double-headed fish hooks from beneath the table and before I knew it she began
skewering Jill's cunt lips, going from one side to the other as Jill sent up a
barrage of agonized gasps and screams. Then she grabbed them in pairs, first
pulling them up and out to stretch Jill's cunt lips to the max before jamming
them down onto her thighs and holding them in place while a disembodied hand,
there seemed to be a lot of them around there, squeezed some kind of super glue
on the barbs to help hold them in place. In less time than it takes to tell,
Jill's cunt lips were spread to their limit and anchored firmly to the insides
of her thighs by eight, count them, eight fishhooks. I decided that I didn't
need those chips after all, but another beer was in order. So I hit pause and
headed for the frig.
It didn't get any better when I started the show again. Now Nora the
magician produced another set of smaller barbs and used them to spread Jill's
inner lips as well. Her cunt now sort of reminded me of that character Jaws,
from one of the James Bond movies. Now it was time for more high tech stuff.
Nurse Nora began to work a flexible cable into Jill's gaping pussy. It turned
out to be a small fiber optical camera that produced close up pictures of my
cheating spouse's uterus as it began to slowly unfold in preparation for
delivering whatever was clogging her insides. The pictures sort of reminded me
of my first and last sigmoid colonoscopy, a rather demeaning experience that
involved some disinterested nurse jamming a cable up my ass while I lay on my
side and watched my innards on a TV screen.
Things really got rolling when some kind of an IV drip was poked into
Jill's arm. Inside of a minute the doors to the hanger, so to speak, started to
open to reveal a mass of ugly looking gunk. Jill started hollering her head off
again, but nothing appeared to be happening where it counted. Nora did her magic
act once more and this time she came up with the piece de resistance. She held a
dome-shaped hunk of metal with some kind of a cable attached to its center. Nora
placed the shiny dome right on top of Jill's bloated belly and then pressed a
button to start it up.
All this was captured by the zoom camera. I was kind of impressed with
the high tech stuff. There were now two cameras going, one inside Jill's cunt,
the pussy cam, and the other capturing all the interesting things that were
happening to the outside of her body. There was some kind of a switching station
that allowed the audience and yours truly to catch all the action as the two
cameras did their thing.
Whatever that gadget was, it got results. Jill's voice cracked as she
unleashed a window shattering scream. Her body strained the straps holding her
down as she gave out this terrible grunting sound. The pussy cam revealed that a
wall of ugliness was advancing towards the gaping mouth of her skewered cunt. It
was moving slowly; I couldn't estimate at what speed, but it looked like Jill
was in for a long night. I watched another minute or so with the sound turned
down to its lowest setting; I could still hear Jill yelling, sobbing and begging
for relief. I began to wonder if that gunk was doing something to the lining of
her cunt, because the volume of her screaming had gone up considerably once it
got moving.
I had another beer and then did some fast forwarding, pausing every few
minutes to check on Jill's progress. Sometime between pauses she evidently lost
her voice, no surprise considering the workout her vocal cords were getting. Now
she was giving a pretty good imitation of one of those whistling teapots.
Finally the wall of mung reached the promised land and began oozing out onto her
thighs, then down to the table, making a mound of messiness. From the way she
was writhing whatever this stuff was, it was something else once it got out into
the air for a time. The camera moved in to show the rash that was developing on
those areas of her body that had come into contact with this stuff. It was
sickening; I found myself looking away, it was that bad.
My wife may have been a cheating, lying, sneaky, slutty, tramp of a
whore, but she was also a human being. No one should have to go through what was
happening to her. At her worst, she only hurt my pride, which was nothing
compared to someone who might have mugged me for the contents of my wallet.
I know I had a buzz going by now since I am not what one would call a
drinking man. However, even with the mental impairment caused by my overuse of
alcohol, I found myself feeling some small amount of sympathy for what my
wayward wife was going through at the hands of her sister and all her strange
friends that lived in that part of the country. I turned off the tape and
decided to sleep on what I had just seen and what I had just thought.
( To be continued )
