Free Erotic Stories
Good Wife University 2-7
As the van sped along, Darlene couldn't turn off her mind. Her thoughts were a jumbled mix of emotions. Being naked was embarrassing. Figuring out what to do with her hands was a problem, too. She didn't want anyone to think that she might be masturbating. But that's exactly what she would do if she was alone, in private, away from the other naked women in the van.
Folding her hands in her lap put them too close to her pussy.
'Thank God it's dark,' she though, 'So no one can see that I'm soaking the seat.'
When she first sat down, her bottom stuck to the plastic seat.
But just a few minutes later and a thin sheen of perspiration and pussy juice had her sliding around, held in place only by the seat belt. She had to keep her hands away from her groin so she folded her arms under her breasts.
Random thoughts popped into her head. Darlene thought about her kids. Would they miss her? Would they be OK without her? 'Oh, thank providence that I'm not the fattest one.' Will Dwayne get along all right? Watching him screw a fifty-something sex pot was.. a turn-on. Darlene silently prayed that she hadn't made the biggest mistake of her life when she agreed to go to this thing called Good Wife University.
She squirmed in the seat, frustrated. She wanted to frig her pussy. If they had been at an ordinary party, she would have insisted that Dwayne take her home. She would have tried to get him to screw her but he was usually so mad about being pulled away from a party that they ended up arguing and she ended up frustrated, frigging her pussy in the bathroom while he...
'Damn, I've got to quit thinking about diddling my pussy or I'm going to go nuts,' she told herself, feeling the road vibrations come through the seat, keeping her pussy juicy and her butt slipping around on the seat.
Laura wondered if her daughter-in-law, Prissy, had made this same trip, shackled and nude. 'Probably,' she decided, smiling to herself. Priscella was incredibly cute and upbeat and efficient and happy and everything that Laura wanted to be, even if the girl was less than half her age.
Sitting next to Kim, Debbie was terrified. She was a college graduate, blond, blue eyed, sexy, fit, and everything a man could want. So why did Dan's interest wane? She gave him everything.
She let him have his way with her whenever he wanted, opening her thighs so he could ram his cock into her until he came. And she enjoyed sex even when she didn't have orgasms.
It was late when the van pulled into a small underground parking garage. Four young women, the oldest barely twenty, were helped into the van. They were nude except for ankle shackles. Even their feet were bare except for one who wore wedgie 'jelly shoes.'
Kim seethed with anger, building the rage in her mind with every passing moment as she heard Peggy's voice break the drone of tires on dry pavement.
"Welcome to Good Wife University, G.W.U. for short," Peggy said lightly, swiveled around in her captain's chair to face the four women. "Your orientation begins now so pay attention."
"First, some history. GWU started over forty years ago. I graduated from one of the first classes. My mother and mother-
in-law were both charter professors. They started GWU because women forgot what it means to be a good wife. During World War Two, women left the home and did men's work. Most returned to the home after the war but a few radicals started what has become known, erroneously, I might add, as the women's movement."
"In my opinion, radical feminists screwed up the institution of marriage. Too many women forgot traditional values and the lessons of our elders. I was one of them. Thirty years ago, my marriage almost ended in divorce until my mother and mother-in-
law joined some other women of their generation to teach their daughters how to be good wives."
"Back then, we were just tied up in mom's basement until we learned our lessons and learned them well. GWU is more sophisticated now. The informal lessons that our mom's taught us back then are now formal lesson plans. We have a syllabus, a residential program, libaray, reading lists, outlines, a correspondence program, you name it. Some years ago, a well-to-
do and very grateful and gracious husband donated our campus which was once an convent school. A West Coast campus opened a few years ago and there's a small campus in Canada. We're now looking for a suitable site in the midwest, and we've developed a post graduate program."
"Second, and most important of all, is attitude. I'll say it again - ATTITUDE. You can and should have a lot of fun. You'll work hard and learn a lot but it's your attitude more than anything else that will determine your success. Decide right now that you're going to work hard and have fun and become the best wife possible and everything will be wonderful."
"The next subject is discipline. Ladies, there's no escape for twelve weeks. Period. You all agreed to spend twelve weeks learning to be a good wives. We won't tolerate anything that might work against that. You've already seen the results, or, in your case, Kim, felt it. Not too comfortable, is it? Well, you can spend the next twelve or more weeks miserable by fighting us and the program or you can change your attitude, go along with the program, and actually have a lot of fun. Kim, what you've experienced so far is mild compared to the punishment you _could_
Peggy intentionally paused for quite a while to let all the women absorb what she had already said before she continued, "It's now time to give you a quick overview of what's going to happen.
Tomorrow and Tuesday you'll go through a series of placement tests. I said the course is twelve weeks. That's how the program is set up but it could be longer or shorter. That was included in the fine print in the contract you each signed when you enrolled."
"The quickest anyone has ever graduated was seven weeks although she stayed on for an eighth. The longest was six months. But twelve weeks is the norm. That time is divided into four semesters of three weeks each and, just for giggles, we refer to you during the first three weeks as freshmen, the second as sophomores, and so on. There are tests and grade cards. If you fail a class, you have to retake it the next semester in addition to your other work."
"We also have a system of merits and demerits. If you do well, you can visit your husbands and kids, earn clothing and privileges, and generally enjoy your time at GWU. If you don't do well or even worse, intentionally rebel and disrupt things, you may end up suffering corporal punishment and rather severe restrictions on your movements and activities. It's your choice.
Like I said before, your attitude has a lot to do with it."
"Last, but not least, we're traditional. Like Clarice explained back at the house, this first week is called 'hell week'. Just like fraternities, sororities, and military schools, once you make it through the first week, it gets easier so... Here we are."
As Laura descended the steps pushed up to the van door, she looked around to see that the old convent school was built of native stone and brick, an eclectic collection of interconnected buildings on well kept grounds. She held back when Peggy led the way to the door, embarrassed to have the others follow her and look at her body. It seemed that everyone hesitated until Peggy called out to them to "come on in and get settled."
Inside the entryway, Peggy introduced Gwen and then left, closing the door behind her. Gwen was average - average height, average weight, simple bun of light brown hair atop her head, wearing khaki shorts and a sleeveless white blouse. But her smile was friendly. "Welcome," Gwen chimed. "I'll get the introductions out of the way in a bit. Come on and I'll show you your rooms."
The rattle of leg shackle chains was the only sound as they followed the woman, who Laura guessed to be about forty but with a body that most twenty year olds would kill for. The woman's hips swivled provocatively, the motion emphasized by her blue suede 'high heeled sneakers' that suggested a couple of songs.
The humiliation of the short trip was magnified because forty other women in various states of dress or undress watched as they walked single file down the hallway.
"Here we are," Gwen cheerily said. "Now I suppose you'd like to get out of those chains, huh?"
"Yes, mam," Debbie and Darlene replied together, accompanied by an "Uh huh" from Laura and a muffled sound from Kim.
"Stop the 'mam' stuff," Gwen said, taking the shoe string from around her neck and tossing it to Debbie. "It makes me feel old.
Just call me Gwen or Professor Gwen or, I don't know. I'm new at this, being part of the staff, that is. Actually, I think you're supposed to call me 'mam' but please don't."
"Okay, I guess I have to deal with you first," she sighed, facing Kim. "Do you promise to speak only when spoken to and to be respectful and polite in everything you do and say?"
Kim nodded affirmatively.
"Then I can remove the gag. You obviously said something nasty to get yourself gagged. If you do it again, we have some horrible tricks like coating an even bigger ball with onion powder and horseradish. I got that one once," she laughed at herself. "Oh, and I'm being impolite. Does anybody need to pee?"
"I do" and "yes, ma.." came the replies.
"The bathroom's across the hall," she told them, collecting the handcuff key. "And now, you," she snapped, using the key to unlock the harness and then pull the gag from Kim's mouth. "Don't try to talk right away. Move like this."
Although still hot with anger that she had mentally stoked like a boiler fire throughout the ride in the van, Kim almost laughed when she saw Gwen's jaw moving side to side and up and down. But when Kim tried to speak, she made a strange honking noise and found that her jaw wouldn't move.
"It's tough being gagged for so long when you're not used to it,"
Gwen observed. "Give it a second. Massage your temples and, yeah, that's it. OK, so here's the deal. Whatever you did to get yourself into a bind, so to speak and yes, I couldn't resist the pun, it's all forgotten. Peg didn't tell me anything and I have no reason to keep you trussed up, do I?"
"Uh huh," Kim managed, moving her jaw like Gwen showed her.
"Good. Ah, and everybody's back. For at least the next few days, you have no privileges at all. You have to ask permission for everything. You're restricted to your rooms and the bathroom across the hall for tonight except for, let's see. Oh, geez, I forgot. Who is it that has little kids?"
"Me," Darlene offered, looking at the others to see if she was alone in motherhood.
"Well, your kids will be calling any minute. You can take that call but that's it for tonight. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow. Ooops, sorry. I didn't get your name," Gwen said to Kim.
"Kimba..lee," Kim managed with effort.
"Hi, Kim. I'm Gwen and I meant it when I said you're starting over so let me get those off you." She unlocked first the handcuffs and then removed the shackles. Kim shrugged her shoulders and stretched her arms forward and out to try to remove the kinks and stiffness. "Not too comfortable," Gwen observed.
"But it's over as long as you follow the rules. You three stay here. Debbie, you come with me next door. This room's for ladies who are already married. See ya," she chimed as she walked out with Debbie close behind her.
"Are we allowed to talk?" Laura asked in a whisper.
"I don't..." Darlene was about to say when the telephone rang, drawing everyone's attention to the instrument on the end table by the sectional sofa. She quickly grabbed the phone, almost shouting, "Hello."
"Mom? It's Jenni. Hi."
"Hi, yourself, Jennifer. How are you guys doing with grandpa and grandma?"
While Darlene talked with each of her kids, Laura explored the large room. By the door where they entered was a common area with the sectional sofa, lamps set on end tables, and a cocktail table. Toward the back were four cubicles formed by the furniture: double bed, dresser, wardrobe, student desk and chair, and night stand with a reading lamp.
"At least we'll be comfortable," Laura commented, pressing on the closest mattress with her hand and then rolling onto the bed.
"Like hell," Kim spat out. "There is no fuckin' way I'm going to put up with this crap of being tied up and, shit, I'll be gone before morning for sure."
"You heard what Gwen..."
"Yeah, I heard the bitch," Kim snapped, pulling off her shoes and plopping onto a bed and turning her back to Laura to discourage further conversation.
"Bye, Katy," Darlene said into the phone. "Be good for your grandma. Bye." She had tears streaming down her cheeks as she put down the phone. Laura come over to hug her. They were still in a tight embrace when the door opened.
"Hi, guys," Gwen said cheerily, startling the women in the room.
"This is Kaitlyn, Katy for short. She'll be joining you."
Darlene's jaw dropped. Gwen was now nude except for anklets and the high heeled sneakers. The new girl shyly hid herself as Gwen introduced Kim, "the one being antisocial. And this is Laura and Darlene. Darlene's the only one with kids. So get some rest. You have to get up early."
"You're just a baby!" Darlene blurted out as the door clicked closed.
"I am _NOT_ a baby," Katy insisted. "I'm married and I'm going to have a baby."
"I'm sorry, Katy. I just meant, compared to me," Darlene told the girl. "You remind me a lot of my daughter and she's only thirteen."
"Well I'm seventeen, almost eighteen and I'm emancipated."
"And like most teenagers, you know everything," Laura laughed.
"But even I don't know everything and my baby's a lot older than you are. So how'd you get yourself stipped to the buff and stuck in a room with a bunch of naked older women?"
"My sister told me to do it," Katy pouted.
"My daughter-in-law told me I ought to come," Laura told the girl, smiling. "I'll tell you what. If you agree not to treat me like a mother or refer to my advanced age, I agree to treat you like an equal and never refer to your imaturity, OK?"
"I'm scared," Katy sobbed, tears clouding her vision.
"Me, too," Laura told the girl, holding her arms open. Katy ran forward let the big older woman enfold her into an embrace so she could snuggle against a sympathetic shoulder and cry in relative security.
Gwen left Debbie in the adjacent room with the younger girls, Jennifer, 18, Maria, 19, and Wendy, 21. As soon as Gwen left, the four talked about how they had come to GWU and why. Debbie told them that her fiance sent her and she showed off her engagement ring. Jennifer and Maria had volunteered based on recommendations from slightly older relatives.
"I always thought that my cousin Consuela had it so together with her oh so perfect husband and kids," Maria explained. "And she told me about this place. Actually, she didn't tell me much or I wouldn't be here buck naked, you know? But she told me I'd be a better person for coming and that, you know, guys,... Well, she said if I came here, I'd attract the right kind of guys and not the losers who're always coming on to me, you know?"
Debbie loved the pinch of Latino accent in Maria's otherwise totally American speech. Maria was lovely. She looked like Charo with big but firm breasts, perfect medium-brown skin, and shapely legs, a body that screamed 'bomb shell'.
Jennifer was totally different. Most striking was her height, over six feet. Her shape was classic, a perfect pear with large hips and thighs. Her breasts were small but with long, pointy nipples. She looked like a rebellious teenager with her fingernails painted black and a tattoo of a penis with butterfly wings just below her navel which sported a gold ring. "My dumb sister put me up to this on a dare. Said I'd never make it, so here I am. I'm going to kill her when I get out of here."
Everybody laughed, even Jennifer.
"I guess it's my turn," sighed Wendy, a nickname for Gwendolyn.
"I don't know how to begin. I was brought up in an extremely conservative home. I wasn't allowed to date until I was sixteen and by then all the boys were taken. I'm Catholic and I always went to Catholic schools. I..."
"I'm Catholic too, gringa," Maria snapped out, her accent much more pronounced now. "So how'd you get here, huh?"
"A college professor," she said softly.
"Dirty old man, huh?" Maria ventured.
"She was a she, a woman," Wendy said, blushing.
"So what gives, heh? She go down on you?"
Wendy burst into tears and blurted out, "I told her I thought that I was a lesbian and, and,..." She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, then continued, just a bit more composed. "I told her I didn't want to be but that I was afraid of men and I had sexual feelings about women and about her and she smiled and told me that all of that was just fine, that she knew how I felt."
"And I told her she couldn't possibly know because, well, she was married and had children." Wendy paused to collect herself. "And then she said, 'You were right about me. I am gay and I find you very attractive. Just being near you is arousing me but...'." And again the tears came freely. "She said that she could never have a relationship with a student and that I shouldn't give up the idea of marriage and children and even a wonderful relationship with a man even if I did eventually find out that I'm gay but that I'm too young to decide I'm gay."
"I can't believe I'm feeling homophobic," Debbie said aloud, moving to sit by Wendy and hold the sobbing girl. "I have no intention of sleeping with you but I think you need a hug."
"Thanks," Wendy managed. "So my professor that I wanted to make love to me for the first time rejected me and told me about this place. She said that by the time I left here, I'd know if I was gay or straight or somewhere in between and I would know that it didn't make a bit of difference... but I'm scared."
"We all are, chica," Maria told her. "Hey, you know what my cousin said? She said that us women, we gotta practice sex stuff with other women because another woman can't get you pregnant but you can learn about sex from another woman so you know what? You may get to try me out. What do you think of that, huh?"
"You are kind of cute," Wendy giggled. She was teasing Maria now that she felt a little better. In retaliation for the teasing, Maria threw a pillow at Wendy but hit Debbie. The result was a pillow fight before they went to bed. Sleep eluded them, the uncertainty back once the room was dark and quiet.