Little Piggy Series (Crackle in the Cold Barn) SeXStoRY

Warning: This story has breast feeding, sexual, d**g, and Dom/Sub training practices. If your trying to quit drinking breast milk, STOP HERE. Once Upon a time in a Southern backwoods farming and mining community lived poor uneducated folk, I was one of those folks. My name is Tammy Sue, and I was a little 5'3 120 pound chubby girl with 38C udders that swelled to D's when I was impregnated. My hubby was from the North, and enjoyed by dutiful southern charm. He loved to give me assignments that would show my loyalty, and he firmly believed, as I did, that you always help f****y in a time of need. It turns out, that a few months before Thanksgiving, my b*****r, his trailer trash wife, and their sweet c***dren, had to live in our trailer for a spell, cause my b*****r was caught a mile under ground in the mine, smoking crack, and mounting our cousin Tiffany. We all knew the reason why, and his lazy, fatback, undeserving wife was the reason. I even hate calling her a wife, cause the word wife means so much more. Anyways, back to the story. My husband explained to me that even though we have guests sort of speak, I was expected to continue to dress with what he laid out for me, and go outside for my bathroom needs as usual, and to serve the f****y as I normally would. I nodded, and blushed, thinking about how embarrassed I will be when my s****r in law sees me doing my duties. I didn’t mind my b*****r seeing, after all he was kin. It vexed me so much, that I called my aunt to talk. This was something my husband always approved of, and permitted. Auntie, I said, I am really mad and nervous. Why is that my piggy? I explained to her about my b*****r's f****y staying, and how awkward it will be to do my duties the same as if only my f****y was in the home. I taught you be calling, my aunt said. I was at your wonderful marriage, and I remember you kneeling before your husband, and all of your kin, and promising to love and obey, for poorer or dirt poor, through sickness, addiction, and rehab. till the grim reaper take you on the boat ride. Do you remember that Tammy Sue? I groaned a little, and said yes auntie, I remember. My aunt not hearing me snapping out of self pity, and acting like a proper wife, got a firm tone. Listen Tammy Sue. Its time for you to stop caring what others think. I went down that road with you when you first got married. Their is ONLY one person in this world that will support you, stand by you, and care for you. The least you can do for him is give him your heart, and your loyalty. Without that a marriage is nothing. Your so right auntie and I are mad that I have to worry about what I do and say in my own trailer. Damn your good auntie. I got off the phone and started to undress. I took off my robe seductively, even though no one was watching, because I loved feeling sensual. I stood in the mirror rubbing my pregnant belly, and massaging my milk engorged nipples, as I heard... Aunt Tammy. I turned slowly, thinking that my nephew would stop in the hallway just before the bed sheet that we used for a door, but he waltz right in. He froze and could not take his eyes off my hairy triangle. His face got red, and he started to turn. Oh no you don’t I said, and turned him back around, and knelt before him, placing my hands on his shoulders. Look at me Mark. While you’re in my home you’re going to be my son. You may look and touch me as much as you like. I am a woman, a wife, a mother, and a slut, well a whore too, but only for fun, and only if hubby is supervising, anyways. Do you know what that means? He shook his head no, and whiping his running nose on his arm. A slut is a woman that is permitted by her husband to be touched by other men. You’re my little man aren’t you? He shook his head up and down fast. .lol good boy, give mommy a hug, and I pressed his body against my swollen udders. When he pulled away his shirt had stains of breast milk. Now go scoot, I have to get dressed. My nephew skipped down the hallway. I could hear him singing, I saw Aunt Tammy’s Udders.lalalalal. I had to giggle at how wonderful I was as a mother. Nothing like the way my mother raised me. I stood in front of the mirror, and pulled up my white lace garter belt. It was a maternity garter belt with a red rose in the front. My aunt gave it to me at the baby shower, and said she hoped I never had to wear a regular garter belt for years to come. I sat on the edge of the bed, and slowly pulled up my white silk stockings. I clipped them to my garter belt, and massaged my hands down my plump thighs, and calves, feeling how firm I was, which comes with being pregnant. Then I leaned down with one hand, and placed my heels on my feet slowly, and seductively. I sat at the dresser, looking into the mirror; spray more hair spray to make my hair doo as boofy as I could. My man said it reminds him of the time we met at the skating rink, and I had my hair done way out like a doll from one of the old 70's porn movies. He was always full of compliments. I made sure to use my extra dark lipstick, cause I wanted to make sure I sent a signal to my b*****r's wife that I was not going to be intimidated. I moved the bed sheet to the side, and walked down the hallway of the trailer to the kitchen. I could see over the long counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room. I could see the back of my husband head, as he sat on the couch. My b*****r and his dirty-butt wife were sitting on a side couch. Everyone was watching one of the world's most popular shows, Jerry Springer. I so loved the show, and this episode, their was a wife with a set of daughters that were twins. The three were as pregnant as I was, and they were fighting over who was going to be the Madame of the trailer. A pretty common problem in the back hills, so I sympathized. Unfortunately, I had to get cracking on making a meal for the f****y, and Trish my s****r in law was to ignorant to help out. I walked over to turn the oven on preheat, and I looked at them as I strutted across the kitchen, past the counter, and in full view of my b*****r and s****r in law. My b*****r got a big smile, and said howdy s*s, and Trish smacked him on the shoulder. Dave turned and went back to watching Jerry. As I cooked, I made sure to bend over, spread my thighs, lean up in cabinets to get things, everything I could think of. I knew she was watching out the corner of her eye, and I was marking my territory. A woman without a kitchen is nothing in this world. Then I saw my hubby lift his glass. I took a shot of tequila that I poured on the counter, which hubby permitted as I cooked, and walked over to him, wiggling my bottom as I walked. I leaned down to his glass, my udders hanging down. He loved to reach up from the armrest and massage my udders, sometimes for 15 minutes at a time before he gives me another task. I poured his beer very slow, and proper. My aunt taught me that a beer glass is to be cocked to the side when you pour, so their is very little foam. Most wives don't know that. But I sure did thanks to my aunties training. As I poured his glass, I looked over at my b*****r who was very excited at my udders hanging down, and my hubby groping them. Trish threw up her hands, and rolled her eyes, refusing to watch anymore. My hubby started to pull on one of my teats, and I knew what he wanted. I brought his beer glass to my nipple, and my milk started to spray in to the glass. He was skilled at most things, but pulling on my teats was one of his best skills. I heard the buzzer go off, and excused myself for the kitchen. I made up all the plates, and called the c***dren. The c***dren took their plates out to the ole logging flat bed trailer, and had to protect their food by beating off the dogs with crowbars, tire irons, or beer bottles. It was quite entertaining to watch. We adults and Trish sat at the picnic table that had a broken leg, held up by an upside down hydraulics oil bucket, which still smelled like the tractor. As the flies laid larva in our hamburgers, and mosquitoes stung our legs, which will turn to scabs by the end of the week, we laughed and joked about the pastor being busted for growing pot, and how the sheriff was then busted by the FBI for arresting people, and stealing their land. Then like always, Trish had to ruin the day, and make her comment. Tammy, don't you feel like a slut dressed up like that? At first I felt offended, then I realized, I am a slut, and very proud of that title. I worked hard, and will continue to work on my skills. I looked over at my husband for permission to speak. He nodded, and I looked at my b*****r, I don't mean no offense to you Dave. Trish, I am a slut, not feeling like a slut. I am proud of it. Her mouth dropped and her face turned red. I tell you what I am not? What is that Tammy? I am not a lazy dirt-butt skank that will not better herself, not acquire the skills a proper woman should posses, and provide for her man the gifts of marriage that he so rightfully deserves. She gasped, and looked at my b*****r, pointing her hand at him. Don't I give you want you desire? HELL no, my b*****r said, and he turned in his seat, bull pissed mad. You never let me use your body when I want to, always has to be when you want to. You never try new things. It’s always the same ole, sit on the bed next to me, facing my feet, with a back massager on my dick. It’s friggin sad. If I touch your boobs, (can't say udders since she didn’t nurse her youngins) you brush my hand away. You won’t comb your hairy snatch, and you won't grow underarm hair which is a long time ole fashion Southern backwoods tradition. Cause I am modern Dave. I don’t need to be some hillbilly, walking around in heels and stockings all day. Trish started to get up to leave the conversation she was losing, and deep down inside knew we were right. Dave grabbed her hand. Look at you. Wearing men’s pants, cotton panties, which you call underwear, and flip-flops, and a t-shirt. Trish, t-shirts are for concerts and things like that. Your embarrassing me going out in public dressed like a man. And one more think, tell them when we had sex last? It's none of their friggin business she said in a huff, and walked to the trailer. How long has it been Dave, as I pulled open a fresh moon-pie? 2 months, he said in a low tone. I spit my moon-pie across the table and could not catch my breath. You’re telling me you let your wife get away with that behavior for this long, my husband said in a stern tone. Well I don't know what to do to get her in line, Dave said in a cowardly way. Ever think maybe a punch to the face would cure a world of evils? My hubby said picking up a bong, and lighting the buds. The water bubbling as we all sat and stared at the lovely smoke cloud in the tube. Well I don't want to hurt her, my b*****r calmly said. Listen Dave, your hurting her, by not training her. Look, a woman is like a horse. From the moment their born, they don't know what to do with themselves. They need to be trained from the day they pop out, but in Trish's case, she was allowed to be raised by religious people, Oprah, and those feminist, men hating school teachers. Tammy was fortunate to be home schooled, and learned some of the skills she needed. If it wasn't for her aunt, she be no better than Trish. Back to the horses. It’s a three step process. You break them down, you train them, and then you guide them as they train themselves. You can’t watch Trish be all she can be, if you don't break her first. Well how can I do that? Dave said with a sound in his voice of hope. I Tell you what Dave. Do you trust me? Of course I trust you. My hubby shook his head and took another tok of the bong. I looked at Dave, and mouthed to him to call my hubby sir. I mean of course I trust you SIR, Dave said with respect. My hubby looked at Dave, and said, I will talk to your boss about getting your job back at the mine, but first the job will wait. I will teach you how to train your wife. By the end of three months, if your wife is not training herself, and living by your rules, you will divorce her, and marry one of Tammy's friends that are already broke, and on their way to training. Deal, my b*****r said, and walked off to the trailer. My hubby and I heard allot of yelling and screaming, and my hubby put his arms in the air, like what the hell is that. I slowly reached over his thigh to his crotch, and massaged his root through his shorts. My hubby told me of his plan for Dave. I closed my eyes, as I taught how embarrassing it was going to be for me. Then hubby got up and said, I have to make a call. At 8PM, the c***dren were outside running around the grass patch in the back yard catching fire flies. Stepping in dog shit, and caring less. It was nice to see them comfortable in their own skin, and not ashamed of their bodies. Somehow those feminist teachers change all that, and call it education. We adults we sitting in front of the TV watching Dukes of Hazard. (Not the new one, the ole fashion ones). My s****r in law was steaming mad. My husband had an enormous about of patience for her, and I was so proud of him for offering to help my b*****r to bring her out of the darkness and into the light. Ring....Ring.....Ring...... I excused myself, and went for the phone. It was my auntie. She wanted to speak to Trish, which surprised me. Trish got off her fat ass, and waddled over to the phone. She listened, and yes....yes...ok, I like that, CLICK. My s****r in law got off the phone, and paraded into the living room in her masculine clothing. Aunties is coming to get me, and were going shopping......ALONE. The men didn't even look at her. I looked over at hubby, and he nodded. So I sprung into my role. I got up, and said, well whatever, and stomped out of the room, and headed back to the bedroom. She smirked and sat down to finish watching Dazzy Duke spread her ass cheeks on TV. It was feeding time anyways, and a changing. After cleaning her up, I laid back in the bed, propped up by pillows. I brought her to my breast for her feeding. She latched on without a hitch, and started to suckle. The sounds of her tiny lips on my large nipple made me orgasm almost immediately. I took the remote, and turned on the VCR. A homemade movie of my husband with a Negro prostitute was in the VCR. I remember filming them with my father’s video camera. She was under a bridge in the town over, where all the homeless and addicts hung out. My hubby allowed me to pick out one for him to use, and I picked him out a young, hairy, chubby, pregnant negro whore that was smoking a crack pipe. She was actually pretty well polite to my hubby, and didn't mind being video taped. This might explain why she agreed to be brought back to the barn to live in the stables. (But that’s another story) As I watched the video, I slowly took my fingers inside my hairy lips, and started to feel my clit under my hood. I rubbed in small circles, as I listened to the sounds of my piglet suckling. I arched back as my hips spasm from the orgasm, and a gush of my wetness filled my sheets. I took one of my soaked fingers and rubbed my baby’s cheeks, which really brought out the color. She smiled, and closed her eyes again. As soon as she fell asl**p, I heard the laundry room door that led outside shut. That Trish has no respect for no one. At least she was gone. I put little Kristen in the dresser door we had on the floor as a crib, and walked back to the living room. I sat next to my hubby. My back straight, my hands on my lap, and my legs bent at the knees and set to the side, like a proper wife should sit. The men were watching NASCAR. My hubby looked over at my b*****r and said, the next time their is a crash, I want you to go for a talk with Tammy. Of course sir, my b*****r said in nice respect. They watched the cars go around and around. I spent my time cleaning up the room, recycling the trash, and making sure they had their drinks and snacks. I like to make them dip for the chips in the kitchen, cause that counts as cooking, and I could have another shot of tequilla.hehe Sure enough their was a horrible crash. Cars flipping over, one was going over the barricade. Drivers jumping out of their cars, rolling around on the track as the invisible fuel burns through their suits. Then the race cuts to commercials. A doctor walks onto the screen talking about how affordable skin graphs are now, and even the worst driver can look like a model. Then our favorite commercial comes on, Budweiser-King of Beers. I could do the frog rib-bit song pretty good. (Anyways back to out story.) I walk over to the couch and my hubby nods. My heart starts to race, and I know its time to see if hubby's plan is going to work. I take the pack of special cigarettes from my hubby. I walk over to my b*****r, and take his hand seductively. I walk him out of the trailer, and across the gravel path that leads to the barn. Dave pulls open the large door, and swings it to the side. Its squeaky wheels adds to the fact this barn is friggin old. I walk in, and take a right into the stripping room, watching my step. I pull the string on the light, and a dim glow covers the stripping room. (Stripping room is 10x10, and is used for people to cut tobacco leaves). On one wall were tobacco boxes. The opposite wall had a 3 foot high table that went from one end of the room to the other. Another wall had shelves full of crap that went back to my great grandfather. In the middle of the room were a kerosene heater, and a metal chair my b*****r stole from a church social, back when my bitch of a mom made us attend that cult called Methodists. What did you want to talk to me about s*s? Dave asked in a friendly way. Have a seat Dave, let’s talk as we smoke. I gave him one of the special cigarettes, and I took one out for myself. As he put the stick to his mouth, I lit his, and then mine. We both took a slow long drag, and exhaled together. I could feel my baby kick, and just bet it was a boy by how much of a fuss it was making. Dave, tell me, why doesn't Trish have natural sexually desires? My b*****r dangled his ciggy as he spoke, I really don't know s*s, after the last baby, she stopped being herself, and you know that she wasn’t really good to start with anyways, so now she is imposable. I am so horny, and can’t get any release, that why I took Tiffany down in the mine. I didn't figure that the boss’s wife would be getting used in the same survival cave. Go figure I said, and nodded at him to take a hit. Sounds like you need some loving b*****r. Take a nice long draw of your cig for me. As he started to smoke, I heard the all too familiar comforting crackling sound of the crack cocaine melting. He heard it only for a moment, and then I saw him holding his breath. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he arched back as his nervous system went into extreme pleasure. His left hand started rubbing his knee over and over, and he spread his legs like he was read to masturbate. OH Tammy, you know what Crack does to me. I walked over to the stripping table, and leaned against it, undoing my coat a little, and crossing my long legs. Dave I think crack does that to all people. As he opened his eyes, he could not stop looking at me, as I took my long hit. Again, I heard the crackling. I held the smoke as long as I could, then I walked over to Dave, and leaned down. I blew the smoke into his mouth (called a shotgun). I watched as he started rubbing his cock through his sweats, and my body began to shake. I felt a warmth wash over my body. I could actually feel my lips swell, and my vagina become soaking wet. Dave started shaking his head No. NO...NO...No. I can’t s*s, it ain't right. I just can't, and he sprung up, and walked for the stripping room door. I rushed after him, hugging him from behind. I whispered into his ear. Shhh, Shhh my big b*****r. Do you remember those times we played Nintendo, when ma and paw were supposedly asl**p? Did you forget the Pop-Up camper? What about the skating rink? And those other times? Yea but that’s when we were younger s*s, your a married woman, and I am a married man, and it isn’t right, Shhhh, its ok Dave, here take another hit. I gave him a cigarette from the pack that was marked with a little red dot. My b*****r took a long slow draw, and his face went numb. He looked up slowly, almost slurring his speech. What is this s*s? I rubbed the tears coming from his eyes, with my soft hands, and said softly, Shhhh. Mommy is going to make you all better. I could smell the scent of burnt plastic wires in the air, and it made my clit tingle. As my b*****r stood in the doorway, facing into the stripping room, I slowly pulled his sweats down. His penis was rock hard, and I looked at his penis tip circumcised, not uncircumcised. (Why on earth would my mother have done such a cruel thing to him?) I took my b*****rs hand, and had him start to stroke his cock. I looked into his eyes.Shhhhhh, that feels good doesn’t it. He nodded, unable to speak. I knew it would wear off soon, so I brushed his hair, and groped his body, and whispered in his ear, that I know he is married, but if a wife won't do her duty for her man, that man's s****r has a duty as f****y. He nodded in agreement. I leaned down and spit on his cock. I could hear the sound of the wetness, as he stroked his shaft. The wetness mixing into his skin. Now, mommy is going to treat you right sweetie. I walked over to the stripping table, and undid my coat, and let it fall to the floor. You like what mommy has to offer don’t you Dave? He nodded in agreement. Come to mommy. Mmmmmmm, mommy needs her udders drained. Here honey, latch on. Dave lifted my udder to his mouth, and latched on like a newborn. He started suckling fast. Shhhhh.slow down honey, you will get more that way. As he relaxed, my milk really began to flow. I could hear him gulping as he went from one teat to the other. Mmmmm m, Dave is a good boy! I took a nice long draw from the red dot cigarette, and let my mind go into another dimension. I leaned over the stripping table as far as my big swollen belly would allow. I looked back, holding the smoke in, and my b*****r was already up against me. His hands gripping my hips tight. I let out the dark smoke, and let the Heroine take me. I could barely think, as I felt my b*****r enter my hairy, fat lips. It felt so huge, so thick, so everything. I looked up on the wall at a photo of my father and grandfather together, and wondered if my father sucked my grandfather on this vary table. As my sexual desire increased, I started moaning and gasping for more. I started telling my b*****r I was a pigslut. I know you are s*s, you always have been, and I love you for that. Then he slapped my ass so hard, I am sure he left a palm print against my pale bottom, and he told me to tell him what I am. I scream out, I am your Friggin Pigslut, Whore. You damn right you are Tammy. I am a lot better than our mother aren’t I? I asked him without thinking. He started to groan, and spermed deep inside my womb, splashing his sticky baby batter against my pink walls. Then he leaned over and said, I wasn’t with her that often. I could not believe my ears, and put my fingers to my mouth. Did my b*****r actually do things with my mom? I never knew. Who else knew? But I could not hold the taught long enough. I kept pressing my womb back towards his hips, begging is cock to give me more seed. Before I knew it, my b*****r pulled out fast. I knew what he was about to do, so I spun around quickly on my heels. I grabbed his hands. Oh no you don’t. He was going to put his penis away. Geezzz. I knelt down on the floor, and put his penis inside my mouth. I suckled his entire shaft clean and his scrotum too. He had to be told to put his hands on my head as I cleaned him, which was a little awkward, but he gets an A for effort, which is better than what those gender biased, feminist, men hating teachers would give him in school. After he was clean, I pulled up his sweats, we got our coats, and we walked to the trailer. As we approached the back trailer door, I had to move some of the trash bags piled up all over the place that had fallen in the wind. We had dozens of bags of beer cans, beer bottles, liquor bottles, and moon pie and pork-rind wrappers. (We are big in recycling, especially since the salvage guys say I am their best customer, but that's another story, (Anyways, Back to the story)). As I opened the door, my b*****r took me by the hand and turned me towards him. He started to French kiss me, and I loved to feel his tongue in my mouth. I kissed him back with as much passion. I put my arms around his neck, as he looked at me, and said thanks for your gift mommy, I mean s*s. My pleasure Dave, it was only proper. Dave and I walked into the trailer, through the laundry room, down the hallway and into the kitchen. My b*****r froze as he saw the back of my husband's head. My hubby was watching Larry the Cable Guy. I rubbed Dave's neck, and whispered, its ok sweetie, it was my master that told me to please you, now go change. Dave’s mouth dropped, what do you mean change s*s? Put on your robe, and no undies. Then come out, and sit, my hubby would like to speak to you. Dave walked past my hubby almost scared like my hubby was going to come out and bite him.lol I think my hubby loved to torment my b*****r for awhile. For me, I went to the fridge and got three beers, noticing that my husband was running low. I leaned over to fill his glass proper, and I set the other two beers on the card table. My hubby started to massage my udders, and I lifted the glass so my breast milk would drip in his beer. He looked at the other two beers and with a grin said, I suppose you be wantin a drink too? If it pleases you daddy :) He loved being called daddy, and he nodded yes. I stood by his side, gulping the first beer in less than 60 seconds. That was a skill my aunt taught me after my hubby complained that I can’t gulp beer. Then I started to sip the second beer. Boy you look to be in a hurry slut, my hubby said in a caring voice. I have a gift for you daddy, I said in a soft Southern draw. Well let’s see my gift. I walked in front of the TV, and started to undo my coat. Piggy, you’re blocking NASCAR, now you know better than that. I am sorry daddy, and I moved in front of the Lazy Boy. With my heels and knees together, my arms in front of me, I looked at the floor. Oh ok piggy, show me. I smiled, and took of my coat, laying it on the chair. I don't see anything different sexy, he said as he took another gulp of beer. May I approach daddy? He nodded. I walked over to the couch seductively, and lift my heel onto the couch. I took my hands and reached around my swollen belly to find my hairy lips, and spread them apart. A huge grin came across his face, and he took his finger and rubbed over my wet lips. Then he told me to lean forward, and he wiped the wetness under my nose, on my lips, and then into my mouth. I could not believe I tasted my b*****r’s seed again. It had been so long. Then I asked my hubby to lean back for me on the couch, which he did without asking why. I climbed up on the couch, and squatted over his face. As I brought my hairy, fat, swollen, lips lower, I felt his tongue dart around. Then he started circling my womb opening, and I orgasmed the orgasm that was building since I took off my coat. My husband kept licking the wetness of another man, and then by the way my husbands licking changed, I realized like only a properly trained wife can, that Dave's seed that was so deep inside my womb was now dripping into my husband’s mouth faster than my hubby could keep up. I kept moving my hips, feeling his tongue go from my clit to my bottom button. I kept moving back and forth, till I came again. As I came, I saw Dave out the corner of my eye. I pointed to the couch, and Dave went to sit down. I could tell he had another erection, by the bulge poking out of his robe. My hubby tapped my thigh, and I got up, and moved over on the couch. My hubby got up, and took a long gulp of his beer, as I sat at his feet, resting against the couch. Now listen Dave, my hubby said in a f***eful tone. Tonight when Trish comes back you’re going to break her. It may take days to break her, or longer, but it should not take longer than 30 days. If she won’t be broken here in the trailer, we can take her to the horse stalls in the barn. You have been to the barn haven’t you? Dave turned bright red, and my hubby let out a chuckle. Now here are some tips. My hubby was teaching Dave, and Dave would keep looking at me if the instruction was proper, and if I approved of the methods. I always nodded sincerely, and told him it was for her best. Around 10PM, my auntie pulled up with Trish. They came in the trailer, and went straight for Dave and Trish’s bedroom. My aunt came out first, and stood behind me, hugging me, and rubbing my swollen belly. Trish yelled out that she wasn’t coming out. Dave looked at my husband, and my hubby nodded. Dave filled his lungs with air, and let out a scream, YOU GET YOUR FAT ASS OUT HERE. (Of course my hubby said in time yelling was not an option, but in the breaking period, yelling is sometimes needed). Trish walked out into the living room. She was wearing black heels, no stockings (she has to earn those), a garter belt (that was not a maternity garter belt like mine), and had her hair doo done boofy, and lots of makeup. She looked really nice. My aunt whispered to me and my hubby takes more than clothes to be a proper wife. My hubby nodded in agreement. I was the first to speak up. Trish you look really slutty! Up yours, she said in a white trash, dirty-butt tone. WHOMP-PUNCH. Trish falls back into the glass case holding all the precious Elvis figurines. My b*****r goes into a rage and steps over his wife, his robe coming undone. DON'T YOU EVER, EVER, insult my mommy. I mean s****r. And while we are on the subject, their are going to be some changes around here. Oh really? Like what? sitting up on one elbow, she was wiping the bl**d from her mouth. You’re going to see. Trish lets out a laugh. Dave wondering if he was doing this right thing looked back at my hubby. My hubby made a sweeping motion with his hand. Dave knew exactly what to do. Dave got up, walked behind her, and grabbed her by her long beautiful brown hair and dragged her kicking and screaming into the bedroom. My aunt and I sat at hubby's feet, as we knew things were just getting started. SLAP.....You will obey me. I will not. PUNCH. Oh my god you broken my frigging nose. No you broke your nose by talking back. You bastard.... SMACK....SMACK... You will call me master, understand. Yea whatever (in valley girl talk) PUNCH....PUNCH....are we connecting as hubby and wife yet? Yea...yes...maa....maaas..Master. Say it right. You are my master; Trish said gasping for air since her nose was filed with bl**d. And what are you Trish. Your wife. SMACK. Ok, ok, I am your slut in training. Very good! Now you go get yourself cleaned up. You’re going to put on a show for the f****y. With that Dave, walked out into the living room. Bits of bl**d on his robe. Well I think that’s a start. I think you did well Dave, I told him with a smile, and don't worry about Elvis, Trish can clean that up before she goes in her cage for the night, my husband said. Dave nodded, and went back into his bedroom. My auntie got up, and said she had to get going, but to keep her posted. She gave my husband a long French kiss that was a little surprising, but I didn’t let on. Then my hubby told my aunt how proud he was of me for tonight. My aunt looked at both of us, and told us how proud she was of us, for caring about f****y like we do. Trish she said, will come out being a very good slut, maybe a whore if she puts her mind to it. MY aunt drove away and I settled down on the couch. Laying my head in my husbands lap, I opened his robe and suckled his manhood like a pacifier. I tugged at his testes like my aunt trained me too, she says that tugging on the testes helps release the potent sperm that clings tight for life, and make a richer blend of man batter. She was always blending things, so I knew she knew what she was talking about. As I suckled my mans root, he massaged my udders, and my swollen tummy. He could feel our baby kicking, and he gave some punches back to the baby. A precious way to communicate. I know the baby loved talking with daddy. As I lifted my hand to brush my hair back, my hubby started petting my clean, well kept, underarm hair. He so loved that I grew out my hair like the ole traditional Southern women of days gone past. My hubby, like myself, despise this trend of shaving everything, which was brought on by feminist, man hating teachers, and people like Oprah. He loved that I had the courage to be in public hairy, and train others about the ole traditions. After he massaged my underarms, he slowly followed my treasure trail to my womanhood. I lifted my leg so he could feel anywhere he liked. He could spend hours just feeling my fur, as I suckled his root. He was a wonderful man, father, lover, master, and all things a man should be. My hubby was so proud of me! I was a very good piggy! Are you proud of me too? Stay tuned for more of the Little Piggy Series Stories.