Cuckolded For Love

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This story contains adult sexual content and should not be read by those under 18, or considered minors in their country or locale. If you are under 18: CLICK HERE

This fictional story is the artistic expression of the author who wrote it. The Small Dick Club strongly believes in freedom of speech, and the right of artists to be heard, especially if what they say pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable in society. If you think you won’t like the content of this story, then don’t read it. It’s that simple. The Small Dick Club wishes to advise readers that any similarities in these stories to actual or real people or events is purely coincidental and unintended. That any story marked as a ‘true story’ shouldn’t be taken literally, as we have no way to verify if stories submitted to us are true. The Small Dick Club takes no responsibility for the imaginations and literary creations of authors who post their stories here.
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by silkstockingslover


My wife is the complete package. She is beautiful (blonde hair, green eyes, 36C breasts, legs to die for and a smile that would melt Jack Frost); she is intelligent (a hotel manager by trade, an avid reader, politically involved and challenges me at every level); she is patient (understands by sports obsession, listens to my daily rants, and deals with my family’s many quirks with a smile in her face); she’s great in bed (she still gives me head, still has a ferocious sexual appetite after eight years of marriage, and seldom denies my sexual needs).

Our marriage is the envy of many of our friends as we suit each other so well; I am her yin and she is my yang.

I love her with every fibre of my being and would do anything to make her happy…I just never thought anything would be what ended up happening.


1. An Innocent Beginning

It started simply, like everything life-changing always does I suppose. No hint of the upcoming changes that would cascade in front of me, like the perfectly lined-up dominoes that one touch sends into an impossible avalanche.

It started two months earlier when Laura got an invitation to her ten-year college reunion. I met Laura the year after she graduated. I’d only heard about her wild college days, and her one serious boyfriend Phillip, on rare occasions. Mostly she avoided talking about those days or him at all costs.

Anyway, I got home from work and my wife was preparing dinner when she announced, “You won’t believe who asked to be friends on Facebook today.”

My hate for Facebook is obvious, so I was sarcastic. “The suspense is killing me. Who was it? A high school acquaintance who sat behind you in English class, but never actually talked to you, who she did lend you a pencil once so clearly you are lifelong friends?”

“Oh, Michael, you are such a glass-is-half-empty person,” she replied, slapping my shoulder.

“I am ‘the glass is completely dry and should be discarded’ when it comes to the useless Facebook crap,” I ranted for the thousandth times.

My wife, a much more technologically aware woman, announced, “It was Phillip.”

That should have sent alarm bells ringing, as she had never mentioned Phillip first for as long as I could remember.”Your ex, who you dated for over a year in college, Phillip?”

“The one and only,” she shrugged, pulling the casserole out of the oven.

“And?” I asked, already irrationally jealous.

“He asked if we could catch up,” she explained, before adding, “and so I added him.”

The wounded look on my face was impossible to hide, so all I said was “Oh.”

“You are not jealous, are you?” she asked, walking over to me and kissing me passionately.

“Of course not,” I lied. “He may have dated you, but I am the one that has you forever.”

“Exactly,” she said, flicking me on the nose.

And that should have ended it…but….


2. A Shocking Shift

A couple of days later my wife was on her laptop furiously pecking away. I asked, “What are you doing?”

“Oh just chatting,” she replied mindlessly, without looking up at me or slowing down her typing.

Curious at her focus, as she wasn’t really into chatting, I asked, “Who’re you chatting with?”

“Phillip,” she informed me, again not looking up.

“Your ex-Phillip?” I questioned, this time jealousy really ramping up. Laura was very attentive usually, and always gave me crap when I wasn’t looking into her eyes when we talked.

“Yes, Mike,” she replied, slightly annoyed. “Now give me a second. I am almost done.”

A bit annoyed myself, I silently boiled at the thought of her chatting with some ex I had never met.

A couple of minutes later she closed her laptop and looked me in the eye. “Sorry, Phillip and I were reminiscing.”


“Just random crap,” she shrugged, although her red cheeks told me otherwise. Laura got embarrassed easily and when she did her cheeks went ruby red.

I should have left it alone and maybe if I had everything that happened would never have, but I decided to dig deeper. I asked a question I realized I had never asked before, “Why did you two break up?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, all we had going was ‘great sex’. When we weren’t in the bedroom our relationship was a disaster.”

I remained silent as I processed the revelation of great sex. They say never ask a question you don’t want an answer to, but I did anyway. “Great sex, like better than you and I?”

“Oh Mike, you can’t compare sex with a man you love and are married to, to intense raw lust that I had with an ex.”

Not an answer any man wants to hear, so I asked, “You didn’t love him?”

“I thought I did then. But on reflection, it was not love, but something else. Something uncontrollable.”

I should have just let it go yet again, but curiosity got the best of me, and I asked, “What do you mean something uncontrollable?”

“Mike, I was a different person then,” she said, as an explanation.

“Different how?” I asked.

“You sure you want all the dirty details of my past?” she asked, adding, “The reason I broke up with him is the powerful sexual control he had over me.”

“What? Now I know you are pulling my chain. You are the most confident woman I have ever met. That is one of the things that first got me interested in you. Well, that and your kick-ass body,” I joked.

She smiled, “You always know how to lavish flattery on me. But yes, there was something different with Phillip, something carnal and raw. He brought out a side of me I didn’t know existed and a side I couldn’t control in his presence.”

“This is all very cryptic, Laura. What power did he have over you?” I asked.

She broke eye contact and finally after a lengthy pause as she whispered, “I was his submissive slut.”

I gasped “No way.”

“It’s true. When I was with him my dignity was left at the door and I was treated like a cheap slut,” my confident, sexy wife revealed, leaving me speechless. She continued, “It started simple enough with him forcing my head between his legs at an empty movie theatre or fucking me in his dorm room while others were in the other room. But then it got more and more crazy. He would cum on my face and then make me go into the other room almost naked to get him a beer and then he began making me kneel between his legs and suck his cock while he watched football as his buddies watched me. It was humiliating, but pleasing him and keeping him happy was all that mattered. Then the final straw when he made me blow all three of his poker buddies before he fucked me while they watched. It was so humiliating, yet also so thrilling. I never came as hard as I did that night. But when I was back home in my dorm I realized I had to break free from his hold before I fell in too deep.”

I stared at her silently as she revealed her sordid sexual debauchery from her college days. Oddly, my cock was super stiff and I had to adjust my cock from its awkward position in my pants. She noticed and asked, “Did that get you horny?”

I stammered, “N-n-no.”

She moved to me and pulled my cock out of its restrictive prison. “It did. You got horny hearing about your wife being treated like a slut.”

“No. It’s just the thought of you as a submissive is kinda kinky,” I admitted.

She began stroking my cock. “You know that Phillip wants to meet me for supper the day before the reunion?”

I moaned, as her soft hands played with my fiddle. “I see.”

“And I already agreed to meet him there,” Laura admitted, her tongue swirling around my cock head.

“Why?” I moaned softly, loving Laura’s tongue tease.

“Because he told me to,” she admitted, before devouring my cock whole. She bobbed up and down for a few minutes before stopping and saying, “I am afraid I can’t say no to him.”

“Then don’t go,” I suggested.

“Yes, you are right. If I go, I will end up under the table sucking his cock in the restaurant, or being fucked in the back of a cab. He is utterly irresistible.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But when he was around me, or even today when we were online, I felt compelled to obey him. I needed to obey him. I craved to please him. Fuck, I am so horny now.” She pulled off her at home comfy sweats and straddled me, her pussy already coated with her juice, as she easily took all my cock.

The only sounds the next few minutes were the moans of a man and a woman in ecstasy. I suddenly was confident that I was all she needed until she climaxed and screamed, “Oh yes, Phillip, fuck me, make me your slut again. Yes, yes, yeeeeeeeeeees.”

I couldn’t explain it but the thought of my wife being fucked by another man was suddenly a turn-on and I followed her orgasm by spraying my seed inside my lovely wife.

Once we had recovered, I pointed out, “You know you called me Phillip during orgasm.”

“No, I didn’t, did I?” she asked her face flushed.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“I am so sorry, Mike. It’s just, well, talking about my past got me pretty revved up.”

“So I see,” I said, before asking another, possibly the ultimate, stupid question. “Is he bigger than me?”

“You mean his dick?”

“No, his bank account,” I joked, before adding, “Yes his dick.”

“A bit,” she confirmed.

I don’t know why I needed such details but I asked, “How big is he?”

“About nine inches,” she informed me.

“Holy shit. That is like twice the size as mine!” I gasped, unable to fathom such a cock once fucking my petite wife. Yet a part of me was imagining watching my wife taking a cock so much bigger than mine.

Trying to comfort me, “Oh baby, it’s not the size that counts, but how you use it.”

“Nice cover,” I retorted, “But that is as big of a lie as a guy saying the first thing we notice about you is your personality. We notice your tits, ass or legs, usually all three before we even know the colour of your eyes or anything else about you.”

My wife quipped, “You said you loved me because of my confidence.”

“Which is true, but only after I concluded your firm tits, tight ass and long legs were to my liking,” I admitted.

“I am happy you approve.” She smirked, cupping her breasts.

“So what did you to talk about online?” I asked, accidentally starting a roller coaster ride I would have no control over.

“Oh, lots of things,” she said, clearly evading the question.

“Is he married?”




“Has he mentioned hooking up with you?”

“Kinda,” my wife admitted, looking away.

“And do you want to?” I asked, unsure what answer I wanted to hear. On the one hand, obviously I wanted her to declare her undying loyalty to me and say she would never even consider such a revolting notion. Yet, on the other hand, the thought of my wife being a submissive slut was such a shocking and erotic vision I kind of wanted to see it live.

Her answer was neither, but a confused, “I don’t know.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I was married to a wonderful man.”

“What did he say back?”

“He asked if you fulfilled all my sexual needs?” she said, still refusing to make eye contact with me which told me the answer to the question.

“Oh,” I said anger growing inside.

She quickly explained, “Mike, I love you with all my heart. And I married you because of all your loving traits. You are the polar opposite of Phillip. I don’t want you to be like Phillip it’s not in your DNA. You’re a gentleman.”

Even though she was flattering me, all I heard was ‘he is more of a man than you and can bring me sexual satisfaction in ways you never could.’ I was silent a moment before I asked, “Do you miss him?”

“Not him,” she said, making me feel better for one brief shining moment before she added, “…but the intense sexual submission I do miss a bit.”

“Oh,” I said mindlessly again, as I processed all this new information. The shocking reality that I had never really pleased my woman the way she craved and desired was a knife to the heart, and somewhat lower. I suddenly felt impotent and weak, a fragile shell of a real man. I asked yet another question I shouldn’t have, “Do you miss having sex with him?”

“Oh Michael. These questions are not helping us,” she answered, answering the question with her evasive response.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.

“Michael, comparing you and Phillip is like comparing apples and oranges, you two are completely different.”

“Do you want to see him when he is in town?” I asked.

“I did,” she admitted, “but I don’t think it is a good idea now.”

“No,” I concluded, after a lengthy pause, thinking at that moment that the best way to keep my wife was to give her what apparently I was unable to do. “You go see him.”

“Michael, if I go see him he will expect that I am his that night,” she warned.

“I know,” I said, accepting that this was the way it had to be, my cock surprisingly rising with the thought of my wife submitting to some man I had never met.

“It’s worse than that,” my wife warned. “He has expectations.”

“Like what?”

“The way I should dress, for one.”

“Which is?”

“Always in a dress or skirt, thigh high stockings and sans panties. His words were he should always have easy access to my slut box. It was always so humiliating and yet…” she paused.

“Yet, what?” I asked, curious and horny from the idea of my seemingly innocent, sweet wife being a submissive slut.

“Yet, a great turn-on,” she admitted. After a pause, she said honestly, “Michael, if I see him, I really may be too weak to resist the temptation.”

“I understand, Laura, but obviously you need this. If I stop you, you will always wonder, eventually resent me and our marriage might fall apart. If you can control yourself, awesome, but you need to know once and for all.”

“I would never,” she began.

“Let me finish. I understand you have needs I am not fulfilling, it seems, and I love you way too much to stop you from anything that makes you happy. You have my permission to do what you feel you need to do,” I said, giving her the green light to cheat on me. Although is it cheating if I give her permission?

“Oh, Michael,” she said, leaning in and hugging me, her hand carelessly falling onto my cock. She looked into my eyes and asked, “Does the thought of me submitting sexually as a submissive slut to another guy turn you on?”

I blushed but refused to say anything.

She pulled my cock out again and smiled. “It does, doesn’t it. You are way too nice to treat me as one, but the thought of another guy treating me like a slut gets you excited, doesn’t it?”

She was completely right, but admitting such a thing was humiliating and emasculating. “I wouldn’t say that,” I replied weakly.

She stroked my cock and said things I had never heard come out of her mouth. “I think you do. The thought of your wife being fucked hard by another guy and used as a submissive, dirty, cum slut whore is turning you on, isn’t it?”

I stammered, “W-w-well, I….”

“Admit it,” she demanded, a tone I also never heard from her.

“Yes, dammit,” I finally confessed, ashamed that such an idea would even remotely turn me on.

“Do you want to watch him fuck me, Michael?” she purred, using a seductive tone I had never heard.

I stammered, “M-m-maybe.”

“I think you do,” she smiled, taking my cock back in her mouth.

She often gave me head to prime me to make love to her, but only on rare occasions did she get me off only with her mouth; this was one of those times, as she loved feeling her pussy filled with cum. She deep throated me and held my cock in her mouth for an eternity, showing yet another side of her sexual abilities.

She then bobbed back and forth furiously, never slowing down and never changing rhythm. Watching her suck my cock with such eagerness, mixed with all the new knowledge I had received, I was ready to shoot my load in only a few minutes. Usually I can last a good while the second time round, but this was not one of those times. I grunted, and warned, like a gentleman, “I’m going to cum baby.”

She didn’t slow down until I began pumping my seed in her mouth. She pulled out and allowed the jet streams of my cum to hit her face. I gasped at yet another naughty slut act. Once I finished coating her face with my cum, she took my cock back in her mouth, this time using her tongue like a snake to swirl around my cock-head.

Finally, she backed away and sat back on the couch, oblivious to the fact that my cum was all over her beautiful face.

I stated at her, dumbfounded.

She finally asked, “So you are really ok with Phillip and me meeting?”

“If that is what you want, yes,” I offered.

She stood up and said, her brain clearly running a mile a minute. “I am not sure it is what I want.” After a moment of silence, as she seemed to be thinking about what I had agreed to, she said, ” I love you, Michael.”

“I love you too, Laura.”

As I watched her head to the bathroom to clean up, I replayed the past hour. What had I just agreed to? Why did it turn me on? I shook my head, pulled up my pants and flipped to ESPN, my mind a mess of bizarre possibilities.


3. A Day at Home Reveals Even More Secrets

Things started to change after that fateful night. Laura started dressing sexier and stayed in her stockings all evening (a pleasant surprise from her baggy comfy sweats she loved do much), we had sex almost daily and she was way more animated in the bedroom. I was in heaven.

I was at home sick, when things took another strange turn. I was on the laptop when a Facebook message popped up. I went to it and it was from Phillip. The message shocked me to my core:


Have you started to prepare your sissy husband for my cock?

This was a task I gave you a few days ago and you have evaded discussing your progress or lack of.

Disobedience is not an option, slut and you will be punished accordingly if I arrive and your fairy-boy is not ready to be my eager bottom.

Master P

P.S.-Until some progress is made you are no longer allowed to have an orgasm.

Ten days till we meet again. Ten days until you begin serving me again like the dirty cunt you are.

I reread the message fifty times, flabbergasted at every crazy word. I was shaking from the nasty names he called her, his crazy notion of me being a willing part of it, but craziest of all, my cock was stiff in my pyjama pants. Just like the thought of allowing my wife to be with another man had never occurred to me before the conversation with Laura, the thought of being with another man had never occurred to me either.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I looked at other exchanges between them. There were lots and it was interesting how the tone shifted over time. The first one was so innocent.


Are you going to the reunion? Love to get together and catch up. Add me! I want to see you when I am down for supper before the reunion.


My wife’s response was also innocent in text and tone.


Long time, no talk. Yes, I am going to the reunion, when will you be in town? What are you up to these days?

Supper sounds like a plan.


The next couple were more of the same generic ‘friends getting reacquainted’, before his tone shifted slightly.


I see you are married now, that is quite a disappointment. I was going to suggest we continue where we left off all those years ago.


Laura responded:


My husband does not know of my sexual past with you. It was a long time ago and I am a different woman now.


P.S.-But we can be friends./blockquote>

His response back was the first time the balance shifted.


I expect you on chat at five o’clock tonight. Don’t you dare be late! If you recall you know disobedience leads to harsh punishments.


Disobedience? Harsh punishments? Laura didn’t respond to that, but looking at the date, that was the same day I learned about Phillip. I scanned her computer for saved chats and found a few, including the one from the day that changed everything.

Phillip: You are late?

Phillip: I am greatly disappointed. I was sure you understood that when I make an order it is to ALWAYS be obeyed!

Laura: Sorry. Work went late, traffic was brutal and my laptop battery was dead. Phillip: I forgive you.

Laura: Thank you. Phillip: Thank you what?

Laura: Thank you, sir. Phillip: Good girl. You always were such a very good, bad girl.

Laura: *Blushing*. Phillip: So you really just went cold turkey?

Laura: I had to. Phillip: Why?

Laura: I was addicted. Phillip: Do you miss it? Phillip: ANSWER ME!

Laura: Sometimes. Mike is the antithesis to you. Phillip: I can tell by your pictures on Facebook. He treats you like a goddess doesn’t he?

Laura: he is a very caring, compassionate and sensitive man. Phillip: And that is what you want?

Laura: It is what I need. Phillip: You didn’t answer the question.

Laura: Mostly it is what I want. Phillip: So you miss me?

Laura: Sometimes…*smile*. Phillip: You are wet right now aren’t you? Thinking of what I used to make you do.

Laura: That is a rather inappropriate question to ask a married woman. Phillip: I’ll take your evasive answer and lack of denial as a yes your cunt is sopping wet.

Laura: I did not say that. Phillip: Yes you did. Remember, I know you better than you know you.

Laura: I always hated that about you. Phillip: And yet you loved it too, didn’t you?

Laura: Yes. Phillip: I plan to see you when I am down. I WILL not take no for an answer.

Laura: You won’t, will you? Phillip: Tell me you are not wet and the thought of submitting to me is not crossing your mind right now and I will leave you alone.

Laura: Of course, I am thinking about it, you just said it. LOL!!! Phillip: Stop avoiding reality, slut. You want my cock. You need my cock. You crave my cock. Admit it!

Laura: Please don’t. Phillip: Don’t what?

Laura: Don’t make me your sub. Phillip: Don’t you mean my slut?!?

Laura: Fine…don’t make me your slut. Phillip: But you are my slut!

Laura: I used to be. Phillip: You can’t just turn it on and off Laura. You already admitted you miss me. You are in denial, slut! I will ask only one more time. Do you still crave my cock?

Laura: Yes. Phillip: And you understand I plan to have you as my personal sub slut the whole reunion weekend, right?

Laura: I am married. Phillip: So?

Laura: I could never cheat on him. Phillip: That is your problem, slave. You figure out how to overcome your marital issues. I know and you know that as soon as I am in your presence you will be wet between the legs and eager to serve me like the cheap whore you are.

Laura: Shit, Mike is home. Phillip: Plant the seed, slut. A guy like Mike who doesn’t know how to treat a whore like you, probably is such a rollover he will allow you to cheat to keep you happy. Allow a real man like me to pleasure his wife in ways he can’t.

Laura: He would never. Phillip: The same way you would never suck off me and three others at that poker night?

Laura: That was humiliating. Phillip: Yet, you swallowed every load and then begged me to fuck you after they left. I bet your dirty cunt is dripping wet even as you reminisce about the whore you used to be. Are you wet, slut?

Laura: Yes, but I got to go. Phillip: So be it. I will send you a message on Facebook later. It is time to re-start your slut training.

Laura: I will check when I can. I got to go. Phillip: Tell me what you are first, Laura.

Laura: A slut. Phillip: Whose slut?

Laura: Damn it, Phillip. Fuck, fine I am your slut. Phillip: Good girl and don’t you ever FUCKING forget it.

I couldn’t believe what I just read. Yet, my raging hard-on was evidence that I was turned-on by what I had read. I went back and found the message that he implied he would write.

My slut,

The chance to say no to me has past. You WILL obey my orders from this point forward. You have no choice. You know this. You can’t resist the darkness inside, the burning desire to submit, you are a submissive slut. Accept it!!!

Like when you were my unconditional fuck-slut you will dress like one. Panties are a no-no and thigh high stockings are a must…always. We will start using Facebook chat and I expect to see my slave dressed as expected.

Your Master


My wife’s reply came a couple of hours later, after we had gone to bed together. Obviously, she had sneaked out after I fell asleep to respond to his order.

I sighed, realizing just how far this had went, me allowing it to happen, before clicking on my wife’s reply.


You won’t believe this. Mike got turned on as he learned about my past and gave me permission to meet you when you are in town. He is such a caring man that my happiness is truly the highest priority in his life. Which is why submitting to you is so wrong.

Although every fibre of my sexual being wants to submit to you, I really can’t do that to Mike. He is an amazing husband and doesn’t realize what submitting to you means. The consequences are too dangerous!

I am sorry, but I must reject your offer to meet.


A chill of pride at her loyalty to me filled my heart briefly before I realized that there had obviously been more chatting since then.

I clicked on Philip’s next reply:


Did I imply I was giving you choice? Did you ever get a say when we were together? No!!! You did as I ordered like the good little slut you are.

Remember the first time you ate pussy? I recall you were not in favour of that demand, but you did it just the same.

Remember the first time you had my cock in your tight ass, I also recall you begging me to not fuck it, yet you became an eager ass-slut after that didn’t you? I bet your husband doesn’t even ream your ass regularly like you so badly need.

Or how about your first double penetration? I recall you begging me to not share your ass with others until you were filled with two big cocks and you shifted to begging to be fucked harder and harder.

You can feign propriety and morals all you want. I know the real you, the slut behind the mask of good wife.

As for your husband, of course he has given you permission. He is a cuckold, a whipped husband. I assume that he is actually a submissive and if I am right he will learn that his place is on his knees serving me as well…just like his slut wife.

Since you have disobeyed me, you have a punishment. You must prepare your sissy-husband to service me too. Further disobedience will lead to further punishment.

Master Phillip

I couldn’t believe what he was demanding. My wife had not mentioned this part at all, but it could explain her teasing my ass with her finger while she blew me yesterday. She never penetrated me, but obviously she was thinking about it.

I clicked on my wife’s response to this demand and was shocked to see the shift in her dignified resistance, even what she used as his name:


I am sorry for questioning you. I will obey like the good slut I am. But I beg you, please leave my husband out of my sexual depravity. He is a good man and although he will accept my submission to you, making him serve you as well is extreme. I don’t want to lose him as a husband. I love him dearly, even though becoming your submissive slut isn’t a real good way to show it.

Please reconsider your last order…if you retract I will make it worth your while.

Slave Laura

Again, I loved the fact that my wife was standing up for me (as absurd as that sounded since she was preparing to have sex with another man).

Phillip’s response was unsympathetic and domineering:

Slut Laura,

Apparently you are not as quick a learner as you used to be. Since when do you question my orders? To make this very, very clear, that I OWN your cunt, your mouth and your ass, in ALL ways, I guess you need to be punished over and over until you finally learn your place.

I now expect you to not only prepare your sissy husband to suck my cock, but also to take it up his sissy ass. I think he will make a very good bottom, just like his whore wife. Disobey me again and I will have him doing things you can’t even imagine.

Twelve days until I am there. Twelve days to prepare your husband. Twelve days till we continue the training that came to an end all too soon.

Master Phillip

The last e-mail from my wife was short and to the point.


Sorry for my defiance. I apologize profusely and will make it up to you when I see you.

I will have my husband ready for you as expected.

Love Slave Laura

I couldn’t believe all I had read. My wife had agreed to me sucking her ex-boyfriend’s cock and taking it in my ass. Neither idea had every remotely appealed to me or been a consideration before today. Yet, my raging hard-on implied I was more curious than I even knew I was.

Curious, I searched online porn and read about first time bottoming, which both turned me on and scared the shit out of me (pardon the pun). I read advice columns, I looked at pictures and lastly I went to a story site to read fictional accounts of straight men having gay sex for the first time. I read a dozen stories, each one making me more and more intrigued by an idea that had never popped into my head before that very today.

Before I knew it, I was stroking my cock reading about a husband who licked his wife’s pussy clean after she was gangbanged voluntarily in front of him. The idea should have been unspeakably offensive, yet I shot my load all over myself, as I fantasized Laura being taken by man after man after man.

I erased my web history for the day and tried to figure out how I was going to deal with this.


4. Laura’s Ass

That night, Laura slid a finger in my ass while she sucked me and within seconds of the back door violation I squirted my cum into her mouth. Once done, while we lay in bed, Laura said, “There is nothing better than sucking a cock.”

“Really?” I asked, hiding the fact that I knew exactly where she was going with this.

“Yes, the power…knowing he comes when I want him to come; he comes because of me,” she explained.

“I see,” I replied, deciding to make her work for it.

“Have you ever considered it?”

“Considered what?”

“Never mind,” she said, changing the subject. “You seemed to like my finger back there.”

“It was weird.”

“Weird good?” she asked, cautiously.

“Weird, weird, I guess,” I said, vague as can be. She looked worried so I added, “But, it turned me on in a weird sort of way I can’t explain.”

After a pause she asked, all demure, “Would you do anything for me, baby?”

“You know the answer to that,” I smiled.

“Good, I have surprise for you tomorrow night,” she announced.

“What is it?” I asked, curious as hell and slightly eager.

“I don’t fuck and tell,” she smiled, before ordering me, “Now get me off with the great tongue of yours.”

I, of course, obeyed.

After she came from my determined tongue work, she asked, “Baby, I want to try something new.”

“Anything, baby,” I smiled.

She reached into her drawer and pulled out some lube. She said, “I want you to fuck my ass.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yes, baby,” she purred, “Fuck my ass.”

“Have you done this before?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, I have back in college,” she admitted, bending her fine ass towards me. “Now come over here and fuck your wife’s ass, baby.”

Staring at such perfection, I obliged the demand, getting behind Laura tentatively. She handed me the lube and instructed, “Lube your cock up good and be gentle baby, it has been a long time.”

“Won’t it hurt?” I asked, as I lubed my cock.

“Only at first and then it will feel sooooo good,” she moaned, her hand going to her pussy.

I moved my cock to her rosebud and slowly pushed forward. Although a bit tentative, I was surprised how easily my cock disappeared between Laura’s ass cheeks. I also couldn’t believe how tight the feeling was around my cock. Laura let out a soft whimpering moan that could have been pleasure or pain, or assuredly pleasure and pain. I continued the slow push forward until all six inches of my cock were lodged inside my wife’s beautiful, tight, ass.

I was unsure what to do next, until Laura moaned, “Slow deep thrusts at first while I get used to your beautiful cock in my ass.”

“Ok,” I obeyed, slowly moving out and back in, the tight sensation a new thrill I couldn’t even begin to explain. It was so different from the feeling of her wet pussy or her warm mouth, yet equally amazing. The thrill of such a taboo act also added to the sensation.

A couple of minutes of slow concentrated strokes was all it took to warm up my wife, who got uncharacteristically animated (uncharacteristically before last week that is). “Oh yes, baby. Now harder, fuck my ass harder. Pound your big cock in my ass.”

I used to think my cock was big for her, but knowing that Phillip was nine inches long was a bit of a buzz kill. Yet, I obliged, beginning a faster pace on my wife’s still tight ass.

“Harder baby, drill my ass, fuck it hard,” she demanded, her moans increasing, her breathing getting erratic.

Although still scared to hurt her, I obeyed, giving hard deep forward thrusts into my wife’s ass. Sweat dripped down my head and I could feel my balls boiling. I warned, “I’m going to come soon, baby, your ass is so fucking tight.”

A few seconds later, my wife turned around and took my cock that had been filling her ass into her mouth. It was so nasty, so wrong and yet so right and in less than a minute I was coming in my wife’s mouth. She swallowed every drop and as soon as I was spent, she aggressively grabbed my head, fell back onto the bed and shoved my face in her cunt.

I eagerly lapped her cunt, determined to get her off. A few minutes into my pussy-pleasing she grabbed my head again and began rubbing her cunt all over my face, oddly riding my face to orgasm. A gush of her juice coated my face as her orgasm exploded out of her.

Once she was done, a minute or two later, she let go of my head and collapsed onto the bed. She smiled and said, “I love your tongue, baby.”

“I love your tongue too.”

“So, did you enjoy that?”

“What do you think?”

She laughed, before she reminded me, “Don’t forgot baby, I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll do anything for you baby,” I replied, knowing it was true and not just words.

She smiled, “I know you will, baby.”



The next night, a night I was curious about all day, was the beginning of the end of my heterosexual life.

We were watching TV while she was on her computer, the new norm, when she asked, “You ready, baby?”

“For what?” I asked.

Her smile, so innocent, yet so dastardly, sent chills up my spine. “For something new I want to try.”

“I am always up for something new,” I replied.

“Good,” she teased,” because you are going to love this.”

“I bet I will,” I replied, still unsure what she had in mind.

“Meet me in the bedroom in five,” she ordered, taking her computer with her as she went upstairs, which I thought was odd.

I waited the five minutes that felt like an hour, before I went upstairs, unaware my wife planned to make me her bottom. As soon as I walked into my bedroom, my wife was naked, except her now regular thigh high stockings, beige this time, and a thin strap-on cock on her hips. I froze, not expecting this, even though all the signs were there.

Laura smiled, her disarming smile that had made me weak at the knees so many times. “Baby, I want to fuck you.”

“Oh,” I said, shocked, but excited as the tent in my pants spoke louder than I ever could.

“Trust me,” she replied, walking over to me, dropping to her knees, unbuckling my belt, pulling down my pants and pulling out my six-inch hard cock. “Hmmm, looks like Willy is ready to play.”

Before I had time to respond, she took my cock in her mouth. A couple of minutes of deep-throat pleasure and she stood back up and helped me out of my shirt. She kissed my chest, she bit my nipples, in fact she was treating me like a woman. Finally, she went to the bed and patted it. “Come here, baby.”

I got out of my pants and underwear that were bundled at my ankles and went where I was instructed.

Sitting beside her, she leaned in and kissed me passionately, her hand slowly stroking my cock, while her cock rested on my leg, a distracting reminder of what my wife had planned for me. What should have been mortifying was oddly exciting. After a couple of minutes of sweet passion, my wife asked, “Are you ready, baby? Can I fuck you?”

“O-o-oK,” I replied, nervously. I was both petrified and excited.

“It’s ok, baby, you will love it,” she purred, biting my ear, before ordering, her tone shifting from sweet to something else I couldn’t explain, not dominant, but not really sweet either. “Now get on all fours baby.”

I obeyed again, and as I did I was staring at Laura’s laptop on the dresser, opened. I asked, “Why is your laptop up?”

“Oh, just charging it,” she too quickly explained, as I felt cold liquid, which I assumed was lube, on my ass cheeks.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this, allowing my wife to fuck me. I also couldn’t believe that my cock was as hard as humanly possible at the thought of being her bottom and the knowledge that she was really doing this to prepare me for her ex-boyfriend’s big cock. It was so bizarre. It was so wrong. It was so sexually stimulating I was about to burst without being touched. I was not gay. Yet, allowing such submission to make my wife happy was a good justification for my perverted submission.

“Are you ready, baby?” she asked, “I bought a nice small one for you.”

“I guess,” I replied, suddenly tentative and nervous.

Ignoring my clear doubt, she began pushing forward. “Just relax, baby. There may be some pain at first, but it won’t last.”

I closed my eyes, wincing slightly as the promised pain arrived. I am not sure what I was expecting. Some sort of pure euphoria, perhaps? But my first reaction was, ‘Holy shit, this hurts’. Each slight push forward, which she did at a snail’s pace bless her soul, was a new sharp pain, like I had been impaled by a dull knife, not enough to draw blood, but enough to cause pain. I tried to breathe normally to control the hurt as my wife continued to coddle me, gentle caressing my ass. “It’s ok, baby. It will disappear. I promise.”

“Kkkkkk,” I whimpered, like a school-girl, trusting my wife who was sodomizing me.

A minute or two of slow burn and my wife announced, “You took it all, baby. My cock is all in your pretty ass.”

Having her call my ass ‘pretty’ was slightly humiliating, as was a cock in my ass I suppose, yet the compliment turned me on. “I am going to slowly begin fucking you, baby.”

“Kkkkk,” I again whimpered, gripping a pillow for comfort like a baby.

I felt the cock slowly pull out and return. It was like getting hit with an ocean wave of pleasure. In one movement everything changed. The pain was still there, although just enough to remind me of the taboo sin I was allowing to happen to me, and yet an odd pleasure was building that I couldn’t place. It was like the brief chill I get when my team scores a touchdown to win with no time left, although instead of just a few seconds of utter exhilaration, it was a constant chill that had rapidly getting lightheaded.

I couldn’t believe the next words out of my mouth. “Harder, Laura, fuck me harder.”

“You want me to fuck your ass harder, baby?” she questioned, obviously wanting me to say it.

“Oh God, Laura, I can’t believe how good it feels,” I moaned, whimpered, like a girl in heat. “Oh yes, please, fuck my ass. Harder, please, I need it harder.”

She began constant thrusts into me, and I began squealing, “Ohhhh, fuuuuck, yes, baby.”

“You like that baby, you like having your wife fuck your ass?”

“Oh God, yes, I can’t believe how good it feels.”

“I can do it again another time?” she asked.

“Anytime you want,” I moaned, my ass beginning to move back to meet her thrusts.

“You dirty boy. You can’t get enough of my cock deep in your tight little ass, can you?” she teased, slapping my ass playfully.

“Oh god, so good, so good, so good,” I babbled like a fool.

“What’s good?” she asked, pushing my submission to her further.

“Your cock in my ass,” I admitted, “I love your cock in my aaaaaaasssssss.”

“Maybe I need to get a bigger cock for your eager ass?” she asked.

“Oh God, yes, I need more, baby,” I moaned, the thought of Phillip’s cock popping into my head as I began to fuck myself on her cock.

“Beg for it!” she demanded.

“Oh yes, Laura, please fuck my ass. Make me your ass-slave,” I moaned, knowing there was no going back from this feeling, this submission, even as shame overwhelmed me at the pleasure I was experiencing.

Suddenly she pulled out and I whined, again like a girl, “Noooooooooooo!”

I looked behind and she reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a wider, longer black toy.

She returned to the bed, lubed generously the toy as I watched and explained, “I knew you would love it Michael and in case you did I bought you your very own butt plug.”

“Butt plug?” I asked, having read about them recently but never actually saw one.

“Yes, that way you can wear it while you watch TV, are at work, and think of your lovely wife you owns that sexy ass of yours,” she explained, going behind me. As I felt the cold lube on my ass, she warned, “This is a lot bigger than the cock I was just pounding you with. The pain may come back for a bit, baby.”

“Kkkkk,” I said, wanting the emptiness of my ass filled again.

Laura started pushing and I could feel my ass widening, stretching, and burning. The pain was more intense than the slim cock Laura had first penetrated me with. I gripped the pillow for comfort as the wide plug slowly drove into my restricted ass. Finally, Laura announced, “Fuck, baby, you took it all. How does you feel?”

“Full,” I whimpered, still trying to get used to the object lodged inside me.

Laura reached from behind and began stroking my cock, leaning against my ass, accidentally pushing the plug deeper inside me and in less than thirty seconds I felt the most intense pleasure ever shiver through me and the dam burst as I coated our sheets with a load of my cum.

Laura let go of my still-pulsing cock and teased, “Well, that was a quick trigger, baby.”

I didn’t reply as the uncontrollable pulses continued, my orgasm lasting way longer than any I had ever had before.

Laura got off the bed and took off her cock. She returned to the bed and ordered me, “Onto your back, baby.”

My knees sore, my ass tingling, I obeyed, moving slowly as to not push the plug deeper in me. Once on my back, Laura straddled my face and demanded, her tone playful and yet bossy, “I got you off baby, now get me off.”

I began licking my wife’s already very wet pussy, a taste I could never get enough of. I licked, I sucked on her clit, I bathed in the sweet scent of the hot box surrounding me. As I licked, I realized the submissive position my wife had deliberately put me in. I had a plug in my ass and my wife had me pinned down.

As I took her clit in my mouth, desperate to have her juice flood onto me, I assumed that everything my sweet, innocent wife had done to me was because she was told to by her ex-boyfriend. It also occurred to me that my wife was preparing me for Phillip. She was preparing me to be a cuckold…and strangely the idea excited me.



The next few days we had sex every day. Laura fucked my ass a couple of more times and finally she made me eat her cunt after I had came in it, a new submission that was both humiliating but equally thrilling.

The next day, four days before Phillip was to arrive, I got home and was surprised to see supper was not started, something very out of the ordinary at our house, as Laura loved to cook.

Laura wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, so I headed up to the bedroom and was shocked to see my wife on our bed, only wearing black thigh high stockings, her vibrator in her vagina while she chatted on her laptop.

She greeted, “Hi, honey.”

“Um, hi,” I replied, confused.

“Phillip wants to talk to you,” my wife informed me.

As I stood there confused, I heard a male voice demand, “Get your queer ass over here, Michael!”

I tentatively joined my wife on the bed and looked at a live chat with a completely naked Phillip. I didn’t say anything, just stared at a naked man, just stared at a big, thick, nine-inch cock.

Phillip seemed to notice my trance-like state and smiled smugly. “Like what you see, faggot?”

The derogatory name was a slap to the face. Even after allowing my wife to fuck me, and reading about anal sex, I had never considered myself even remotely gay. I stammered, “W-w-what?”

His tone shifted from smug to condescending. “Was the question too complicated for you, faggot? Are you impressed by my big cock?”

I looked at my wife, who gave me just the slightest affirmative nod. I whispered, almost inaudible, “Yes.”

“Speak up, faggot!” he demanded.

“Yes,” I said, loudly.

“Yes, what?” he asked, sneering.

I had no idea what he was expecting. I looked for help to my wife, who leaned into me and whispered into my ear, “Master, he is your Master.”

I stared at her in shock. This was extreme. Her eyes pleaded for me to go along with the absurd suggestion. I paused, trying to really grapple at this extreme expectation, before I looked back to Phillip and said, “Yes, Master.”

He smiled, “Yes, Master what?”

I sighed, but answered as he expected, “Yes, Master, I am very impressed by your massive cock.”

“I thought you would be, faggot. By the way, I really enjoyed watching you lose your anal cherry to my slave,” he announced.

“What?” I gasped, again looking at my wife.

“As if you didn’t know. The laptop was staring at you the whole time you became your wife’s bitch. You whimpered like a high school girl, so my buddies and I really enjoyed the beginning of your feminization,” he announced, my humiliation burning even deeper, yet my cock growing in my pants simultaneously. After a pause, he smugly added, “You had to know.”

I didn’t, although in retrospect it definitely made sense. A slight bit of anger at my wife lying to me began to build. Our relationship had always been built on honesty, even the crazy idea that she could submit to her ex-boyfriend was dealt with honesty. I suddenly wondered what else my wife wasn’t telling me, besides what I had already read online between the two of them. “I didn’t,” I responded, giving Laura a glare that told her I was not happy.

Phillip saw it too and scolded, “Don’t you dare blame your wife for this. You gave her permission to be the slave slut she craves to be and you can’t provide for her. You allowed her to fuck your ass without even slight resistance. A real man would never allow his beautiful wife to become a submissive sex slave to another man; a real man wouldn’t whimper like a girlie-slut and allow his ass to be fucked. Only a cuckolded faggot would do this. You are to blame for this, not your wife. Laura did as she was told, like the good slut she is. Aren’t you, Laura?”

“Yes, Master,” she quickly agreed, smiling sexily directly at the camera, her obedience and eagerness to obey obvious.

“And you want your faggot husband to submit to me too?”

My wife looked at me with a look of guilt on her face, yet her words didn’t match her apologetic eyes. “Yes, Master. I think Michael will make a good faggot sub.”

I stared at her in shock. Even though I had read their chats, and knew the orders Phillip had given Laura, I never thought I would hear such words from her.

Phillip smiled, “You two need time to talk. Laura, you are to refrain from sex until you see me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master,” she agreed without the slightest hesitation.

“And faggot. You will wear that plug in your ass at all times, except the obvious time it needs to be removed, until we meet. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master,” I agreed, although not as enthusiastically as my wife, a growing hurt at my wife’s betrayal increasing.

“Good,” he said and disappeared off the screen.

Laura instantly turned to me, tears welling in her eyes, and apologized profusely. “I am so sorry, Michael. This is getting out of hand.” She paused, but when I didn’t respond, she continued to try to excuse herself. “I tried to keep you out of this, but each time I tried to protect you he punished me with more extreme punishments and expectations.”

I should have been angry at being lied to, I should have been angry at her so willingly obeying another man, and I should have put a stop to this before it got out of hand. Yet, seeing her wounded has always been my weak spot, and instead of doing what a real man would do, I responded, “It’s ok, Laura. It is not your fault.”

“He will make you submit to him,” she warned, her eyes big, her concern for me authentic.

“I know,” I replied, beginning to understand the full consequences of our predicament.

“No, I don’t think you do. He will make you suck his cock, he will humiliate you in front of me, he will fuck your ass,” she explained, her concern for my well-being actually making me feel all warm and gooey inside.

“I understand,” I replied, “but I will do anything to keep you, Laura. You are my everything.”

“We can still say no to him,” she countered, although her conviction was not believable.

“Can you?” I asked.

She didn’t respond, her brief moment of strength already weakening. She whispered, “I don’t know.”

“And do you want to resist him?” I questioned.

“I don’t know,” she repeated, her eyes implying her mind was already elsewhere.

After another lengthy silence, I said, “I will do it, Laura.”

“You don’t have to,” Laura replied, although I think she knew that actually I did.

“Yes, I do,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” she replied. “I got us into this and it is my responsibility to get us out.”

Although her words were convincing, her tone wasn’t. I put my hands in hers and said, “We are in this together now, Laura.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised by my tenderness.

“Yes,” I replied, looking into the eyes of my beautiful, vulnerable wife. I wanted to comfort her and make her feel safe for me, I wanted to be the protector I promised when I said ‘I do’. I know it was absurd, but I knew that to make my wife completely happy, I had to submit unconditionally to Phillip and give him my wife. “You want me to submit to him, right?”

She sighed, breaking eye contact, “I never in a million years thought this would happen. I never wanted this. But….”

“It’s OK,” I interrupted, pulling her in for a warm embrace and admitted the reality. “We both need this, Laura. I didn’t know this part of me existed, but since this whole crazy roller coaster ride began I have found parts of me I never knew existed.”

“You have?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes,” I admitted, “As much as I hate the thought of Phillip, I have loved being submissive to you.”

A smile crossed Laura’s face, as she spoke all sultry, “You want to be my pet, baby?”

A chill went up my spine at the term ‘pet’. Going for broke, I smiled back and replied, “Yes, Mistress”.

“Fuck,” she cursed, “I wish Master hadn’t ordered us to not have sex. I would devour you whole, my little slave.”

I suggested, desperate to submit even more to my beautiful wife. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I could never lie to him,” she replied, crushing my hopes, “and if he learned the truth he would punish us.”

“OK,” I said, bummed at the thought of celibacy until Phillip arrived.



The next four days crept by at a snail’s pace, but eventually we were driving to the airport, the butt plug still lodged in my ass and my wife dressed in a fire engine red dress and mocha colored thigh highs that screamed ‘fuck me’. As instructed, she was not wearing any underwear.

At the airport, when Phillip saw us he suavely walked to Laura, a smug smile on his face as he pulled her in and kissed her with the passion and urgency of a man returning from war. My wife melted into her ex-boyfriend’s arms oblivious to the thousands of passengers walking by and her own husband who watched helplessly.

Finally breaking the kiss, Phillip ordered, “Go get my suitcase, faggot. It’s the purple one.” Although it wasn’t loud enough for all to hear, anyone close enough to us definitely heard the humiliating order. I winced at his words but obeyed.

In the car, my beautiful wife sat in the backseat with Phillip. As soon as we were out of the parking lot, Phillip took control. “Laura, why don’t you get reacquainted with an old friend?”

I looked in the review mirror as my wife’s head disappeared from view. A zipper sounded quickly and my wife was sucking her ex-boyfriend’s cock while I chauffeured them around. I should have been mortified, but instead I felt aroused as my cock betrayed me, growing in my pants.

Phillip groaned, “Fuck, I missed those sweet, eager cocksucking lips.”

My wife surprised me when she replied, “I missed this delicious cock too,” my shame building and building.

“Get back to sucking slut,” he demanded, before talking to me. “Fuck faggot, your wife is an amazing cocksucker.”

Shame burned and burned as I continued driving, my wife and her ex-boyfriend to OUR home, while he thoroughly prepared to abase me beyond words. The only sound for a few minutes was the clear slobbering of my wife’s lips around Phillip’s cock before Phillip asked, “Do you want to suck my cock, faggot?”

I stammered in fear, “I-I-I don’t know.”

He said, “Stop sucking slut. I am really close, but I am not rewarding you with my cum until your faggot of a husband answers the question.”

My wife snapped at me in a way I had only seen once when we had a nasty fight years ago, “Fucking answer the question, Michael!”

I was shocked by my wife’s harsh tone, especially after our long talk a few days ago, and stammered, “Y-y-yes I Want to suck your cock.”

“And take it up your faggot ass?” he questioned.

“Yes,” I admitted, my shame burning through me.

“Yes, what?” he snapped.

My wife added, “Answer your Master properly, faggot.”

My cock, desperate to be released from his cloth constraints, and the reality being that I was eager to submit to this stranger, I replied obediently, “Yes, Master, I want you to take my ass,” before adding, “I am yours to use with as you please.”

He chuckled harshly, clearly content with my submission. “You may finish what you started, slut.”

“Thank you, Master,” she replied, her voice sweet and submissive.

As if attempting to humiliate me herself, the sloppy sounds of her cocksucking seemed to echo in the confined space.

“I’m close, slut,” he moaned, “take all your Master’s cum in your mouth.”

At a red light, I saw the woman in the passenger seat of a truck beside me, staring with her mouth wide open, clearly watching the sex act behind me.

Shame compounded shame, as the light turned green and I made the last right turn to our humble home.

I pulled into my driveway as Phillip grunted, “Here comes my cum, slut.”

I put the car in park and waited as my wife finished swallowing Phillip’s cum. A minute or two later, Phillip complimented her. “Still as amazing as I remember, slut.”

“Thank you, Master,” my wife replied, sitting back up, a look of euphoria on her face that I had never seen before. Jealousy bubbled in me as I realized I was not capable of giving her the happiness she apparently needed. Had our whole marriage been a mirage?

My wife looked into the mirror, her eyes reflecting into mine, a look of do-as-you’re-told boring into me.

Phillip suggested, his pleasant tone so absurd considering his filthy intentions, “Why don’t we take this inside?”

“Yes, Master,” my wife concurred.

As my wife and Phillip went to the house, I brought in his bag, a servant in my own home.

When I entered the house, Phillip instructed, “Put my suitcase in your bedroom. You will be sleeping in the spare bedroom during my stay.”

“Yes, Master,” I replied, my head down.

When I returned a couple of minutes later, Phillip was sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and my wife on her knees, slowly sucking his cock again.

“Why don’t you replace your beautiful wife, faggot?” he asked smugly.

This was the moment of truth. It was one thing to say I was a faggot and to obey online commands, but it was another to actually commit to the act in real life…shifting from role-play to reality.

My legs felt like cement. I couldn’t move. It was my wife that cemented my submission and began officially my cuckolding. Laura, her tone dominant and showing a lack of patience, ordered, “Get your pansy ass over here, Mike, and do as your master tells you to.”

Startled by her cold tone, I quickly obeyed and soon was on my knees in front of Phillip’s big nine-inch cock. Staring at it I couldn’t believe my predicament.

“OK faggot, it is time you start earning your keep. It seems you can’t properly satisfy your wife, so let’s see if you can satisfy your wife’s lover,” he said, his smug tone adding insult to injury.

I stared at Phillip’s cock, still unsure. Laura, my wife of eight great years, grabbed my head and pushed it forward. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and soon it was full with Phillip’s cock. Continuing my humiliation, Laura grabbed my head and slowly began moving it back and forth, forcing me to give a blow-job to her ex-boyfriend and current Master. The humiliation was overwhelming, but as I was forced into a steady rhythm I began to focus on the cock in my mouth. It was a couple of minutes later before I noticed my wife’s hands were no longer on my head and I was giving head to Phillip voluntarily.

Phillip talked to my wife as if I wasn’t there, continuing to add to the humiliation. “So how much did you miss me, my slut?”

“I have never stopped thinking about you,” my wife admitted, hitting me in the gut with an invisible punch.

“Even when your husband was fucking you?” he questioned.

“Especially then, Master. I love Mike and he is actually a very caring lover, but even though I tried to give hints to my submissive needs, he couldn’t just fuck me and treat me like the whore I wanted to be…like you used to do,” my wife explained, my inadequacy of being a man again thrown at me.

“Well, he does have some potential as a cocksucker,” Phillip announced. Oddly, a compliment after all the criticism of my manhood warmed me. Phillip asked Laura, “Do you still have your wedding dress?”

“Yes,” she answered, as I wondered why he’d ask such a question.

“And do you have white stockings?”

“I still have the thigh highs I wore then, I believe.”

“And you have a video camera?” he asked, my eyes going big at the thought of such humiliation being caught on camera.

“Of course.”

“Go get dressed in your wedding dress and stockings and bring down the camcorder,” he ordered.

“Of course, Master,” my wife agreed without hesitation.

My wife gone, I was now alone, in my own living room, sucking the cock of my wife’s ex-boyfriend. Oddly, having his cock in my mouth was a turn-on based by the throbbing erection in my pants. Phillip asked me, “Do you like sucking my cock, Michael?”

The question surprised me and I didn’t want to admit the truth, but I did. Taking his cock out of my mouth, which let me relax my jaw for a moment, my one word answer was, “Yes.”

“Really?” he asked, his tone disappointed, “All I get is a yes. I give you the privilege to make your wife happy by becoming the cocksucker she wants you to be and to become the faggot you obviously are and all have to show your gratitude to me is yes.”

His response was absurd and yet disappointing him suddenly was my biggest worry. Without even thinking, I stammered, “S-s-sorry. I love your cock in my mouth.”

“You do, do you?” he pondered. “How much?”

“It-it-it is all I want to do right now,” I admitted, realizing it was actually the truth, as I already missed the feeling of pleasing him.

“So you want to suck my cock?”

Attempting to impress him, which suddenly seemed important, I responded, “Yes, I want to suck your cock until you come down my throat.”

“And you will swallow it all like a good little cocksucker?”

“Yes,” I admitted, suddenly wanting nothing more, completely forgetting about my wife.

“So you want to be my faggot?” he questioned, continuing to push my boundaries.

I hated the word ‘faggot’ but wanting to please him, I agreed. “Yes, I want to be your faggot.”

My wife’s voice was the next I heard, again adding to my humiliation. “You want to be his faggot, Michael?” she questioned, although her tone was playful.

I looked over at my wife, seeing her in the same dress she wore when we married and committed ourselves to each other. Instead of saying ‘I love you’ or ‘I do’, the words I said this time were, “Yes, honey, I want to be your lover’s faggot. I will do anything for you.”

“Aaaaah, how quaint,” Phillip quipped. “Before we do anything else, Laura could you go upstairs and get a dress and pantyhose or stockings for your faggot husband? He should be dressed nicely for this, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” my wife agreed, disappearing up the stairs.

Phillip explained, “These new wedding vows will revitalize your marriage, Michael. You are a cuckold, and now that you know this you must accept your proper place in the order of things. To make your wife happy you must allow her complete freedom to get her happiness however she sees fit.”

Still on my knees, which were burning, I was speechless. Phillip shoved his cock back into my mouth and savagely fucked my face while he waited for my wife to return.

A couple of minutes later she did, with her a red cocktail dress and black stockings.

Phillip smiled and said, “Dress your cuckold, slut.”

“Yes, Master.” She obeyed, walking over to me and pulling me off my knees, Phillip’s cock slipping out of my mouth. Without making eye contact, my wife hastily stripped me before pushing me onto the chair. Still she made no eye contact as she slid the black stockings up my legs, her face just inches from my erect cock. Once both stockings were on, she pulled me up and finally made eye contact. I saw in her eyes a flicker of guilt, but it faded just as quick as she grabbed the dress and put it on me like I was a Barbie doll.

Once dressed, Phillip mocked, “Aaaah, don’t you look cute.”

I was embarrassed yet again, now dressed as a girl, but it was only going to get worse. Phillip grabbed the camera and set it up on a tripod and ordered, “Crawl over to me faggot.”

I briefly looked at my wife for support of some sort, but as expected I got none, just an icy glare that implied very clearly I was to do as I was told. I wanted to make my wife happy at all costs and I was about to learn exactly what ‘at all costs’ really entailed.

I crawled on all fours like a dog to Phillip and looked up from my humiliatingly submissive position. “Get my cock ready for your wife, cuck!”

Opening my mouth, I took his cock back between my lips. As I slowly sucked his cock, Phillip instructed, “Slut, get on all fours on the couch and get ready for your Master’s cock.”

“Yes, Master.” A clearly excited Laura obeyed.

“Doesn’t your husband look good on his knees with a cock in his mouth?” Phillip asked my wife.

“He looks like a perfect cocksucker, Master,” Laura replied, my face burning with shame.

“Ready for my cock, slut?” Phillip asked.

“Oh God yes,” Laura moaned, in a way I had never heard her moan for me. “I have thought about your cock every day since you last fucked me.”

“I bet you have,” Phillip chuckled, patting my head like I was a dog. “Faggot, I want you to put my cock in your wife for me. In doing so, you give your wife to me.”

Every time I thought I had reached rock bottom, the bottom was pulled from underneath me. Yet I obeyed again, taking his cock out of my mouth and watching helplessly as he moved behind my beautiful wife, who was bent over submissively, eagerly waiting to be fucked by someone other than her husband.

He rubbed his cock up and down my wife’s crack and snapped his fingers at me. I moved to him, grabbed his cock and let out a sigh.

Phillip asked, “Having second thoughts, faggot? You don’t want me to fuck your slut wife?”

Laura snapped, “Shove Master’s cock in me faggot!” Her nasty tone surprised me, another piece of me being ripped apart, yet I obeyed like the cuckold I had become, as I placed his cock at my wife’s pussy and welcomed him inside. Instantly my wife got animated, as Phillip pushed forward and filled her completely. “Oh fuck, I missed your cock, Master. Fuck me, fuck my cunt.”

Phillip began deep hard thrusts into my wife, as I watched his cock go in and out. I was jealous of the power he had over my wife and frustrated at my helplessness to give her what she really wanted on my own.

Phillip looked down at me and chuckled, “Slut, your hubby is watching pretty intently.”

Laura turned around to look at me, but didn’t say anything before turning back away and begging, “Oh fuck, Phillip, harder, pound me like you used to.”

I just watched my wife being defiled by her ex-lover for fifteen minutes, her moans getting more animated until they turned into screams of pure ecstasy. “Aaaaah, yes, so good, so fucking good, harder, yes, Master, I’m comiiiiiiiing, fuck, yeeeeeeees.”

I watched as her screams echoed the room and her body shook like I had never made her do. Phillip asked, while my wife’s orgasm pulsed through her, “Can your faggot husband get you this wet?”

“No,” she admitted, “only you can.”

Phillip looked at me smugly as he continued plundering my wife’s pussy before grunting, “Here comes my cum, slut.”

My wife instinctively began bucking back on his cock and moaned again as her pussy walls were coated with his cum. One spent, he pulled out, grabbed my head and shoved my face into my wife’s leaking cunt. “Clean her up, cuckold.”

Having no choice, my face held firmly in her pussy, I licked and was surprised by the odd taste of my wife’s cum mixed with Phillip’s. At first I didn’t like it, but as I lapped up more and more it became an acquired taste and I attempted to retrieve every last drop of both their cum.

Eventually, I was pulled back and my wife collapsed on the couch. Phillip ordered, “Go get us some drinks sissy.”

“Yes, Master,” I replied, thankful for a reprieve from the humiliation, a humiliation that had me horny as hell unfortunately.


When I returned, Phillip and Laura were cuddling on the couch like a married couple. This was more mortifying than everything I had done and witnessed before, because this wasn’t sex, this was intimacy.

I handed each of them a drink and waited like a maid for my next order.

Laura looked up at me, her eyes soft now, giving me an apology telepathically. I gave the slightest of nods to imply it was ok.

Laura’s hand was slowly stroking Phillip’s cock, which was impressively still semi-hard after shooting two loads in my wife. Phillip leaned into my wife and whispered in her ear. Laura’s face went red and she again gave me an apologetic look, even as she said, “He will do whatever you say, Master.”

Phillip looked at me, “Is that true, faggot?”

I looked back to my wife, before turning back to Phillip and admitting, “Yes, Master.”

“Yes, Master what?” he asked.

“I will do whatever you say,” I admitted, not making eye contact.

“Get on all fours where I fucked your wife,” he ordered, rubbing salt into an open wound, as my wife without instruction began sucking Phillip’s cock, preparing him I assumed for her husband’s sodomy.

I obeyed as he explained, “This time Laura can put my cock in my faggot.”

I watched Laura bob up and down on his cock as I nervously awaited my fate. Once content he was ready, he stood up and went behind me. He asked Laura, “Did you get the lube?”

“I did, Master,” she confirmed, going to her purse and returning with a small tube.

“Get him ready,” he demanded.

Laura lifted up my dress and coated my ass with cold lube, surprising me by sliding a finger in and quickly finger-fucking my ass.

Phillip explained coldly, “The butt plug may have widened your man-cunt, but it can’t completely prepare you for the real thing.”

Laura moved to in front of me and whispered, her tone soft and sweet, the Laura I remembered before Phillip re-entered the picture, “Relax, baby, it will hurt at first, but when it gets good, it gets really good.” She bit my ear, her hot breath getting me hot again, a distraction from the inevitable.

One more tug and she moved back to my ass and I felt his cock between my ass cheeks. Phillip asked, “Are you ready to watch your husband be sissified?”

“Fuck yeah,” Laura returned, her slut persona returning in full force.

“Well, put it in for me,” Phillip demanded.

Laura rubbed the cock up and down briefly before slowly penetrating me. I winced as his wide cock slowly split me open. I grabbed the couch for support as Phillip’s cock slowly went deeper inside me. Laura returned to me and whispered soothingly, “Just relax, baby.” She distracted me the best she could as she nibbled me ear and rubbed my chest.

Phillip grunted, “Fuck, your ass is tight, faggot. How does my cock feel in your ass?”

I whimpered, but wasn’t lying when I admitted, “Good.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled, “I knew you were a faggot as soon as I saw your girly picture on Facebook. A real man would never have let his beautiful wife chat with me online.”

Sadly, I knew everything he said was true. I was weak, a man who could not properly satisfy his wife. Laura moved away and I was surprised when I felt her lips wrapped around my cock.

As Phillip began slowly pumping in and out of my ass, he said, “Aaaaaaaah, your wife is so sweet, sucking your pathetic cock.”

Suddenly the pain faded, my wife’s lips on my cock distracting me. Slowly, the cock in my ass was bringing me pleasure and I began to moan.

“Faggot likes it, he really likes it,” Phillip mocked, as his strokes became faster and this thrusts went deeper.

Girly sounds escaped my lips but I no longer cared. I wanted to be fucked. I begged, “Harder, Master, fuck my ass harder.”

He obliged and soon he was pounding my ass, each thrust forward allowing me to accidentally fuck my wife’s face. The thrusts went deeper and deeper and the next few minutes were a blur. Finally the double sensation was too much and I felt my balls boiling and I grunted depositing my load down my wife’s throat.

“Did faggot just come getting ass-fucked?” Phillip questioned mockingly.

“Yeeees,” I whimpered, my wife’s lips still firmly wrapped around my cock.

He ravaged my ass for a couple of minutes before pulling out, flipping me around and shoving his cock in my mouth. Holding my head, he pumped his cock in my mouth, face fucking me ruthlessly, his balls bouncing off my chin. Without warning his cum shot in my mouth and I had no choice but to swallow every drop of his seed.

Eventually, he pulled out and said, “Laura, come with me to the master bedroom; faggot you can sleep in the spare bedroom.”

Laura came over to me and whispered in my ear, “I love you Mike. I am so sorry for what I said, but in the heat of the moment I am a different person.” She kissed my lips and gave me one last apologetic look before eagerly following Phillip. My ass burning, the aftertaste of cum in my mouth, I remained frozen on the couch. I was humiliated and mortified by the reality that I allowed it to happen and, worse, that I enjoyed every second of it. I enjoyed being forced to suck cock, I enjoyed watching my wife be pleased like I could never do and I enjoyed being fucked in the ass. Accepting my fate, I cleaned up the living room before going to the spare bedroom and wondering what was going to happen now.


Strangely, allowing my wife to fuck her ex and being fucked myself was the best thing that could have happened for our marriage. For the rest of the weekend Phillip fucked my wife repeatedly, sometimes with me in the room and sometimes not. I was fucked one more time before he left as well promising to return soon…that was eight months ago.

Coincidentally, Laura is eight months pregnant. I know what you are thinking…how pathetic. But the truth is I could not have children due to a high school accident and we both desperately wanted children. The adoption wait was ridiculously long and thus the problem was solved in a very unconventional way.

For the past eight months Laura and I have lived a monogamous life, but I could tell lately my wife needed more. She was constantly horny and even though I pleased her to the best of my ability, I could tell in her eyes she craved more. She craved Phillip. I also missed the utter submission of sucking a cock or having a cock in my ass. Trying to kill two birds in one stone, I contacted Phillip who suggested I set up a gangbang for my wife. He e-mailed me a list of ten guys he knew from college who still lived in town. After bouncing back and forth between should I or shouldn’t I, I grabbed my phone and started making the strangest call in my life…but that is a very different story.

The End.

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