*****

Part 2…

Derrick put on his shoes and left. Seconds later, the front door closed with finality. I did as Brooke ordered and began researching “How to buy a male chastity cage”. Brooke and I educated ourselves on the importance of the proper fit and how to measure for one. We both agreed on the expedited shipping premium; I would have paid ten times that to avoid missing my next opportunity to be in the room.

I was ashamed of my failure to restrain myself, but at least Brooke wasn’t mad at me; she just felt sorry for me, knowing how hard it would be to be confined. I felt the same, sorry for myself. On top of that, I also felt insecure; haunted by the memory of Derrick’s manly cock, and the ways it satisfied my wife. Later, in bed, she spooned into me and asked,

“What’s the matter, baby? You knew he’d be fucking me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you’d be kissing him the whole time!” I whined. It sounded pathetic, and I felt like such a simp for saying it, but it was the truth.

“Aaawww, baby; you know I’d never be able to have sex with a man if I didn’t feel passionate about him. Geez, I never would have ended up with you if passion hadn’t been so important to me.”

She was reminding me that it was my passion that had won her heart, and our passion for each other was the best thing we had going. As true as that was, I couldn’t ignore the underlying implication… she wouldn’t have been able to overlook my inadequacy otherwise.

When the delivery came, she wasted no time. I was already shaved bare from pubes to taint, and inside of 15 minutes, she had me securely locked up. I didn’t like it. It wasn’t comfortable, though I did enjoy how the base ring presented my balls. At the same time, it did no favors for my flaccid dick, which went from barely hanging to poking straight out over my bulging scrotum.

Brooke did her best to help me accept my new lot in life.

“Darling, it’s not about you liking to wear the cage, it’s about you admitting you deserve it.”

I had agreed to this possibility to get into the room, and I had screwed up; still, it sounded so demeaning, like it wasn’t because I just screwed up, it was because of who I was. But I guess if I wanted to sleep with her, I had to start learning to sleep with thoughts like that.

The next morning, I awoke in discomfort. I had been dreaming of eating Brooke’s pussy while Derrick watched. In my dream, I was confused why I wasn’t enjoying myself more; now the reason hit me like a cold, wet slap in the face. My poor little penis was straining against the walls of its prison, succeeding only in an outrageous display of my package; dick head smashed and pushing away from my groin, balls encircled tight and pulling back. My scrotum was stretched near the limit, and the color of everything alarmed me. I wanted to wake up Brooke and ask her if she thought there was a problem. I knew constricted circulation was a concern, but I also knew Brooke valued her sleep, and I wasn’t sure this was an emergency serious enough to disturb her rest.

I elected instead to creep into the bathroom and splash cool water on it to quell my erection. I bunched a face towel along the edge of the sink counter and leaned against it, pushing my distended package as close to the sink as I could. I was pouring my third handful of water over my rigid penis when Brooke stumbled in, yawning and scratching her scalp.

She sat down on the toilet and let go a loud stream as she sighed. It wasn’t new to me, being that there was no dedicated enclosure for the master throne. This time, though, it felt different. Our new sex life had changed the dynamic between us. At that moment, listening to the powerful hiss of her urine stream shooting into the bowl, I thought about how her libido seemed increasingly engaged of late, how she had been growing more assertive. I started thinking about what I would do if… how far I would go if she forced me to…

“Bill, what are you doing?”

I looked at her in the mirror, and the confusion in her face told me she hadn’t noticed anything through her morning fog. The thought of hiding was overcome by concern over my precious genitals.

“I’m trying to get rid of my erection — it’s killing me!”

She was immediately concerned and hurriedly balled up some tissue, wiped herself, and stepped up behind me. Leaning over my shoulder, she looked at the reflection that was holding my attention.

“Oooo, it does look terribly purple. Does it hurt?”

“Not hurt, exactly, but it doesn’t feel good.”

Brooke said, “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” and left me staring in the mirror, fretting. Returning with a wet paper towel in hand, she asked,

“How’s it looking now?”

“A little less purple, but it’s still throbbing,” I said.

“Here,” she said, reaching her hand under me to position the wet paper under my balls and press it tightly against my taint. I was instantly aware that the wet paper enveloped an ice cube. The pressure relief was palpable, and we watched together as my penis stopped straining and slowly regained more normal colors.

“There, she said. Better?”

“Yes, thank you”, I said, with genuine gratitude in my voice.

Looking back, I often wondered, wouldn’t most men have been pissed that their wives locked a torture device on their penis, instead of thanking them for providing the means to endure it? I may not have been “most men” to begin with, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t the man I had been a scant month ago.

Following that scare, we both did more reading and learned the importance of acclimation, the gradual introduction of chastity over time. Fortunately for me, Brooke had no intention of keeping me locked up for long periods, only requiring it when Derrick allowed me to join them. Once I knew I wouldn’t have to sleep in it (unless I was allowed to sleep with them), I was relieved and more accepting of my lot.

Over the next few days, I practiced wearing it for brief periods, gradually increasing the duration and challenging myself to learn how much I could tolerate. Porn helped, but the new Brooke helped more. A single flash of bared titties proved as effective as a session of one-handed surfing. It was during this time that she also started making me eat her ass. The first few times, I didn’t like it, but it was only strong-tasting for a few minutes. I didn’t really know if the taste diminished because I had cleaned it, or if I just got used to it. Either way, it wasn’t that big a price to pay for her happiness and the deliciously naughty feelings it gave me. After a few days of this training, I was confident that I could join them again under the new rules.

Brooke, however, required more convincing. She left me again to visit Derrick at his place, reminding me that my progression in the cuckold lifestyle held few guarantees.

It was around this time that she also began spending more time with Allie, one of her friends whom I knew the least about. The change coincided with our new lifestyle enough to arouse my suspicion. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was sharing details of our sex life with her. She seemed like an odd choice of friends to confide in, given that Allie was married.

Brooke’s single friends struck me as the most open-minded ones. I chalked it up to them being in the dating game and needing to keep up with the competition. Surely if she were to share our secret with anyone, it would be with one of them. Her married friends struck me as more likely to look down their noses or even be disgusted by the things we were getting into.

I knew Allie was married, but I knew very little about her husband. It occurred to me that I’d never even met him or seen them together. Still, once the idea popped into my head, I couldn’t let it go. My suspicions were confirmed a week later when she sprang it on me out of the blue,

“Honey, I love that you let me fuck outside our marriage, but I’m really dying to let other people know. I’m just so damn proud of you! Of how brave and unselfish you are. Wouldn’t it be hot, having someone else know?”

Was she seeking my approval, or trying to ease me into a reality I was unaware of yet? I had ample evidence of how devious my loving wife could be, yet I resisted the urge to assume the worst of her. Either way, I was pretty sure that if Allie didn’t already know, it was only a matter of time before she would; and yes, contemplating that was extremely hot! The fact that Allie wasn’t a stranger, and was someone I would doubtless be face-to-face with again at some point, had me nervously excited. The fact that Allie was an attractive and curvaceous, if somewhat imposing, woman didn’t hurt either.

Brooke left me at home and went back to Derrick’s place. After that visit, she became more determined than ever to help me build up my endurance. She helped me increase my stimulation while caged, clearly wanting to involve me again. During a particularly memorable session of teasing, she praised my progress, then asked,

“Do you want to get back in the room with us?”

I jumped at the offer. “Yes, honey; you know I do.”

“Do you want to participate next time?”

I knew exactly what she was doing, but that didn’t stop me from blurting out the truth.

“Yes! Oh God, yes! What can I do? Just tell me, and I’ll do it!”

She laughed at me.

“Oh, Billy, be careful not to let Derrick hear you say that! He knows about this cuckolding thing, and believe me, some of the things he’s told me about are far beyond any little contributions you might be imagining yourself making.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I did recognize the naivete of such an open-ended commitment.

“I’ll tell you what,” she offered, “I’ll go easy on you. The next time you join us, I’ll let you lick my pussy to get started. I know you love doing that.”

She was right, and I could think of no easier way of easing into their bed than preparing her pussy for his thick dick, sparing her any initial discomfort by ensuring she was well lubricated. Of course, when the time came and I had cleared her hurdles, it didn’t exactly go down that way.

When Derrick showed up at our door, Brooke made sure I greeted him caged, naked, and kneeling in the foyer. As soon as the formality of the inspection was over, we proceeded to the bedroom. Once again, I was relegated to watching from the corner, only now I had a straight-backed dining room chair to sit on. Of course, I was also caged now and was required to be naked to confirm my continued obedience. From my corner perch, I witnessed their passion rise as their clothing fell to the floor. I watched them paw and suck at each other, fueling each other’s arousal.

As soon as Derrick tore open the condom wrapper, the rigidity of his cock and the lube on the nightstand made it clear he was about to take her ass, and the prospects of my services being required melted away.

Disappointed, yet newly aroused, I watched eagerly as she got on all fours, stuck her luscious ass up for him, presenting her rear entrance in another practiced motion I had never seen. For the first time, I watched Derrick push his thick rod into my wife’s asshole and heard her cautious acceptance. It was intensely erotic, and I felt the still new, odd combination of mental arousal and physical throttling that only chastity can provide. I could hardly believe how much Brooke was loving being fucked in the ass, even though there was clearly some struggle involved.

“Yes, baby, yes… long-stroke me with that fucking thing! Awwww… ungh, cucky, get over here and lick my clit while he fucks my ass.”

How am I going to get in there with his pelvis blocking everything? I made my way over to her as she straightened her arms and rose, indicating the space beneath her. I crept up on the bed and slid on my back, pushing underneath her, maneuvering my head until it was directly below her crotch. Derrick had paused his motion inside of her, and his cock now followed her down as she lowered her pelvis enough to give me access to her clit.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have my whole taint between your tongue and his cock; You won’t have to touch it all. This time.”

I reached up and gave her a tentative lick as Derrick returned to plowing her ass. It wasn’t at all the way I had envisioned it, but it was what she promised me. I tried my best to ignore the ‘this time” bit, knowing it wouldn’t matter what it foreshadowed. I was coming to accept the fact that I was not in control here and that those days were gone.

I performed the duty required of me enthusiastically. I closed my eyes and settled in, pretending I was eating her out just as I had so many times before. The only challenge to my delusion was trying to ignore the constant slapping of balls on the top of my head. I couldn’t do it, of course; they smacked the same message into me over and over… cuck… cuck… cuck… cuck.

Brooke was emitting a constant stream of ‘oh-oh-oh’s in the same rhythm until Derrick’s roar drowned her out as he erupted into her ass. I watched the large tube running the length of his cock pulse repeatedly, filling the condom with his seed. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels, watching me continue to eat her pussy as he caught his breath. Once he got his wind back, he tapped me on the leg and said,

“Hey, you’re making that look real good. I want a taste too… get back over there,” nodding to my chair.

I slid out from under her, and he took over. Judging from the sounds she made, she was obviously unconcerned by the substitution.

“Oh God, this is amazing! Two men are eating my cunny! How did I get so fucking lucky!”

Cunny… I hadn’t heard that one before, at least not from my sweet wife. She seemed to be getting more comfortable being crude. She turned to me and said,

“He’s eating me so good, baby. You should thank him.”

I knew it was intended to humiliate me, but it seemed a small thing, given all that had already transpired.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for eating my wife’s pussy so well.”

“No, not like that,” she said, “like you really mean it.”

Reaching down, she took hold of his monster cock and lifted it off the bed.

“Get over here and kiss it. Kiss it and say thank you.”

A devilish smile grew on her face as she watched me get back on the bed and kneel between his legs. I looked her straight in the eyes and lowered my head to the latex-encased cock. She stopped me again, with a hand on my shoulder.

“No, not like that, silly… unwrap it first!”

I pinched the slippery condom between thumb and index finger. It yielded easily to my pull, slipping off to reveal the slime-covered cock. I draped the full condom over the nightstand clock and turned my attention to the foreign penis in my hand. I’d been seeing a lot of it lately, but this was the first time I held it in my hands. The weight took me by surprise, and I held it higher, looking for a clean area to make contact. Finding none, I settled for making as little contact as possible. I pursed my lips tight, leaned down, and planted a demure kiss on the broad corona. Derrick watched, and I looked at him as I obediently repeated the words,

“Thank you, Derrick, for eating my wife’s pussy so well.”

As I spoke, I felt my lips stick together on one side and knew it had to be his cum. My tongue darted out instinctively to snag it, hoping no one would see. It wasn’t enough to taste, but it was enough to worm its way into my brain. Brooke seemed pleased, but still dismissed me.

“Good boy, cucky. Now get back into your chair and behave yourself.”

That “good boy” was like jet fuel to my libido, and my long-struggling penis did its best to respond, forcing me to take the steps from bed to chair in a bow-legged stoop. I searched my brain for what she might consider “misbehaving” in this cage. I drew a blank. My only takeaway is that I no longer belonged in their bed; I was merely permitted in as a visiting service provider.

Derrick resumed his oral ministrations, and Brooke fondled his dick to motivate him. He was eliciting soft groans from her. They grew louder, but seemed to convey a frustration. By the time she gave it voice, her hand had revived his erection, and she was eyeing it lustfully. Beside herself, she complained,

“Between the two of you, my clit’s just been teased too long, I need some of that big dick! C’mon, Derrick, give it to me!”

Derrick did the same thing any guy would do when a woman pleads with him to stop eating and start dealing with her dick; he obeyed. He slipped into her sopping hole with ease, and she let out a protracted groan of pure satisfaction. After the way she took the ass-fucking he had delivered, she was now back in a comfortable saddle. They fucked lustily, and Derrick pummeled her right through her orgasm, clearly too close to his own to stop. Once she recovered enough, she turned her attention back to me.

“Did you like that, cucky? The way he made me cum all over his cock? Look at it… all streaked white… that’s my cream, baby. You’ve never seen it on your dick before, because your dick never made me do that. Because it can’t! He’s going to add to it now. He’s going to cum in my pussy, baby. What are you gonna do about it?”

I knew there was nothing I could do. If she wasn’t going to stop him, I sure as hell wasn’t.

“Uuhhh… I’m going to watch.”

“Yeah, you are! Anything else? How about after he cums? What do you want to do then?”

“I… I want to clean you!”

“Oooo baby, that’s beautiful!”

She smiled at me and I smiled back; then she prodded,

“Just me?”

There was only one other person in the room, and only one other area that needed cleaning. I knew this time would eventually come, but now that it was here, it was way more intense than anything I had imagined. My meek delivery betrayed the resignation I felt,

“No. Derrick, too.”

I looked over in time to watch the smile grow on Darrick’s face. That smile spoke volumes to me about what the act would mean to him. He wasn’t looking forward to a pleasurable sensation; he was thinking about what it meant to the balance of power between us. It had been lopsided from the start, but the disparity between us was about to widen considerably. From here on, he would look down on me with a level of contempt that I had never felt before.

It put me in my place. It felt different than when I sacrificed a piece of my self-esteem to Brooke. When a woman who loves you looks down on you for something you did, it’s with sadness. It may be mixed in with other feelings ranging from arousal to disgust, but there’s always an underlying bittersweet sadness. When a man who has no affection for you looks down on you, there is no sadness, and what remains is likely to lean toward disgust. The woman you love shows you how she feels about you; the man she loves shows you the way at least half of the world will now regard you.

Brooke was right about Derrick being close, and she reached for his balls as his first grunt announced the spasm of his cock. Until that moment, I didn’t know how much Brooke wanted this for herself, and how much Derrick was behind her orchestrations. Now she cradled his balls in her hand and massaged them as he pumped her tunnel full, coaxing him,

“Give me all you’ve got in there! Fill me up! I want to see him struggle with how much there is.”

When he finished, he pulled out and backed up to make room for me, saying,

“There it is, cuck, go get it. Hope you like it ala mode!”

As soon as he pulled out, I saw the thick layer of syrup that coated his cock. I wanted it right away, but the love of my life deserved to be my priority. Aside from her loosened lips, her pussy looked the same as always — delectable. I was within inches of it when the first thick blob of cream queefed out. I moved in quickly, sticking my tongue below her opening to catch the glob before it slid onto the bedding. I had to cup my tongue to collect it all, then I pulled it in and swallowed. The taste was much like my own, only thicker. Brooke could not contain herself.

“I can’t believe you’re eating his cum! Fuck, baby; that’s so… so hot!” “Oh yeah, eat it! Eat it all!”

Her words of encouragement fueled my enthusiasm, and I began to lick deep inside her, certain there was more hiding in there. Abandoning any pretense of reluctance, I mashed my mouth deeper into her folds. I believe in the old saying, good pussy is like BBQ… if it isn’t all over your face, you’re not eating it right. I kept at it until Brooke’s hand on my forehead pushed me away, causing me to look up at her as she told me,

“Now do Derrick.”

I looked at him and saw his smile was even bigger. He had come twice in half an hour, and incredibly, his cock was still hard. I knew it could only be due to his anticipation of this moment. His erection still pointed slightly up, and a portion of its viscous coating had traveled down to his balls. I tenderly lapped at them, then took them into my mouth. I had no idea what a ball sack normally tastes like, but this one tasted a lot like cream pie. The feeling of his balls in my mouth was amazing, and I did my best to show my appreciation by making them feel good. I only stopped when his slimy cock began to deflate and came to rest on my face. I didn’t mind being slimed—I already was. I was simply greedy, unwilling to let any of that creamy goodness get lost in the mess that was my face.

I grabbed his shaft and licked from base to tip, working my way around one side at a time. I looked up at Derrick and opened my mouth, showing his spend to him like an obedient cum slut before swallowing it down. Only then did I take his fat cock into my mouth, sucking hard to extract every trace of fuck flavor it could provide. So, this was what a man’s cock feels like in my mouth, I thought. It was a feeling like no other, but my rapture shot off the charts when he placed his hand on the back of my head. I briefly wondered if he was going to fuck me, forgetting that a third orgasm would have been a lot to expect from a teenager, let alone a 30-year-old man. Still, just feeling that large hand back there, in complete control of my head, sent a submissive thrill through me.

It was the culmination of my participation, and I retreated to my chair, leaving the lovers to share their intimate moment. I was graciously praised with a “good boy” from each of them, and I blushed. Not embarrassed over anything I had done, but by the way their praise made me feel. It made me feel very small, yet valued… appreciated… and yes, even loved.

Over the following days, I reflected on what I had done; so many firsts. My first cock kiss, first taste of cum, first cream pie, first cock suck. It was all happening so fast! I tried to recall the series of events that had brought me to this point. There was no denying my complicity, but Brooke had certainly played a part as well. She hadn’t merely gotten me to do it; she had gotten me to want it. She had tempted me with visions of cream pies for the past week or more. Once I put it all together, I saw a familiar pattern in her teasing talk. A 3-step recipe for convincing me to push me beyond my limits. It went something like this:

1) Describe upcoming plans, looking for signs of hesitancy

2) revisit those areas during playtime together, hyping their appeal while undermining any capacity for critical thinking via the time-tested handjob

3) deny orgasm, cover, and allow to simmer

I had to hand it to her; it worked like a charm on me. Even after recognizing it, I saw no way to immunize myself, and to be truthful, I lacked the desire. Consequently, when her playtime talk began to dwell on how much she got off watching me suck cock, I knew there would be more of it in my future.

It didn’t take long for the specifics to become clear. She wanted to see me suck him off, as in, to completion. She went on and on about how it wasn’t just the consumption of his ejaculate, it was the feeling of the shaft pulsing on your lips, the struggle to contain the entire load, the open display of his gift, the waiting for permission to swallow. It was all such blatant mind-fuckery, but she made it sound so thrilling that I could only respond with a silent Yes, fuck me in the brain!

By the time my acceptance was apparent, she let down all pretense and flat-out told me it was going to happen. Said she would make me, if necessary, but it was going to happen. She had talked about it with Derrick, and he was comfortable with it. Even said he had some ideas. I smiled to myself and thought, Oh, please, not the briar patch again! Imagining Derrick’s cock in my mouth, this time with me sucking him off all the way, had me daydreaming constantly.

I began toying with the idea of outing myself as a cuckold to one of my friends, just to see their reaction, knowing the shame it would cause me. I had already let slip to one of them that I was basically in a sexless marriage. I saw it as a first step toward coming out as a cuck, and I thought it was brave of me; a daring move that my wife might try to encourage. But when I told her what I had revealed, she used it as another opportunity to retain control of our marriage and put me back in my place. She accomplished it with a single cutting remark.

“Daring, don’t you think it’s time you stopped lying to your friends? We don’t have a sexless marriage, you do.”

As far as I can recall, that’s the last time I considered taking any agency in how others might learn of our lifestyle. Once I relinquished any notion that I was helping to chart our course, it felt liberating —and, at the same time, a little terrifying.

Brooke continued to talk about what was in store for me and how lucky I was. She made it clear that Derrick would be in charge, and I was to look to him for guidance. It hammered home the message: no matter how much I told myself I was doing this for her, I would be submitting to him, leaving her free to watch.

When the day finally came, I prepared like I had been taught, stuffing myself into my cage. I had to use ice to drive down my erection, and it fought me the whole way. I expected Derrick would verify my compliance, so it came as no surprise when he ordered me to strip as soon as he walked through the door. He closed the distance between us and backed me into the living room, toward the sofa. I didn’t feel threatened; I just wanted to preserve a normal conversational distance. When I had stripped down to just my cage, he told Brooke to fetch the key. Seeing the surprise on our faces, he explained to her,

“I want his true feelings to be on display for this.”

Brooke unlocked me, and I began to chub up almost immediately. My growing erection stopped short of fully hard, but the change was noticeable, causing me to blush. Brooke spotted it immediately and couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease,

“Awww, why so shy, Billie? Aren’t you used to us seeing your little dickie by now?”

I didn’t know how to explain it, and Derrick’s insight only made my embarrassment worse.

“He’s worried you’ll notice the stiffy he gets from sucking cock. He’s worried you’ll see how riled up it gets him —more than he’s ever been with you —and you might start asking yourself, ‘ How well do you really know your own husband? ‘ That sound about right to you, cuck?”

I hadn’t taken it that far yet in my own mind, but it did sound like a place I might have ended up. There being nothing I could add, I nodded in mute agreement.

“Don’t let him get to you, Billy,” Brooke tried to calm me, “He’s just fucking with you. I already know you want this, maybe as much as I do. Tell Derrick. No, better yet — ask him! Let him know how much you want it. Go on, admit it!”

I leaned into the back of the sofa, slid down to my knees in front of Derrick, and begged, surrendering to both the moment and to him.

“I want it, Derrick. It’s practically all Brooke and I talk about anymore! It’s all I’ve thought about ever since you let me clean you last time. Please, Sir, may I suck your cock?”

I shivered slightly as those final words crossed my lips and I heard myself voice them for the first time. I said it exactly the way I’d always secretly dreamed of saying it, while looking up into the eyes of the man I was begging. Just the way the videos had shown me.

And just like in the videos, he nodded silently, put his hands on his hips, and allowed me to volunteer my submission. I approached with reverence, taking a few moments to admire the beauty of his phallus. Not simply aesthetically pleasing; it was a powerful statement of masculinity. Once I could bring myself to close my eyes, I licked up his shaft, focusing all my attention on the sensations from my tongue. I was floating through a cocksucker’s dream in my mind, with no distractions. The feeling of my knees on the hard floor faded into the distance, and the soft sounds of satisfaction from Derrick and Brooke became background music. It was just me and my mouthful of cock; the taste, the sliding caress of his tender skin on my tongue.

It was nirvana, until my brain was alerted to an unexpected tingle running up my thigh. Misinterpreting it to be an insect stumbling through the forest of my leg hair, I was snapped back to reality, where Brooke was lightly caressing my leg and telling me,

“God, you look so good with cock in your mouth! And to think, I just had to suggest it, and here you are! I love being the reason you suck cock! Oooh, look! It’s true, baby! Look how hard your little dick is when you suck him!”

Leave it to Brooke to poke me in the same spot Derrick had. Not only did she rip me back to consciousness, she redirected my focus from Derrick’s majestic cock to my inadequate one. Yes, it was rock hard and throbbing. Yes, I was busted, but I wanted nothing more than to find my way back into my dreamscape. Forced to register that I was not alone, I looked up at Derrick.

What must it be like for him? Maybe he’s felt this from another guy before, but regardless, he’s felt this same thing plenty of times. Of course, it feels good having your cock sucked, doesn’t it always? Still, this has to be different. Not transformative, but there must be some kind of extra thrill in knowing he’s taking something from me that I’ll never get back. He’s the man who turned me into a cocksucker, and I’ll always be that now. Even if not to others, at least to him.

For me, it was far more emotional than physical. The sensations were not all that pleasurable in themselves. The feel of his cock in my mouth, the tender skin stretched tightly over that rigid shaft, the warm sponginess of the head; my brain didn’t translate those sensations into “this feels good”. They all served to amplify the thought that this is really happening!. Yes, he’s taking something from me, but more importantly to me, I’m willingly offering it. I took his cock into my mouth to pleasure him, and I’m letting him use my mouth to get off. I may not have explicitly said it, but we both know that I am going to allow him to pump his seed into my mouth so I can taste it and then swallow it.

Of course, whatever Brooke is experiencing must be purely emotional, not counting whatever she may be doing to herself. The permanent change in my identity must be almost as wrenching for her as it is for me. Her husband, the man she loves, is a cocksucker. I wondered: was it gnawing at her? How and when had it happened? How much of it was her doing, and how much had been there all along? And if it had been, why hadn’t she seen it? Her husband is sucking another man’s cock! Submitting to him! She knows different, but it looks for all the world like that man is making her husband suck him off, and no way doesn’t add to her thrill.

They were both witnessing what I was doing, and that awareness weighed heavily on my mind, replacing my blissful feelings with ones of submission and humiliation. Derrick’s praise only added to the humiliation.

“Thaaat’s it, good boy! Suck that cock! You’re doing so well, Billy.”

It was strange; he’d always called me ‘cuck’ in front of Brooke. That should have been more humiliating than Billy, but somehow, it wasn’t. ‘Cuck’ encouraged me to play a part in which certain behaviors were normal, even expected. ‘Billy’ reminded me that everything I was doing was of my own volition.

I rededicated myself to making Derrick feel good, employing some of the moves I’d read in erotic stories that I thought would feel good. Worshiping his balls, luxuriating in them, in their scent; rolling each tenderly in my wet mouth. I worked my tongue along the underside of his shaft as he slid his dick in and out of my mouth. Letting the tip nudge against the gateway to my throat, persistently requesting permission to enter. I had lost all sense of self and was well on my way back to nirvana when the same bug began crawling up my forearm, and my wife’s excited voice once again snapped me back.

“I love seeing your dicks next to each other, seeing how much bigger his is. I mean, you can tell just with your mouth, can’t you? You don’t even have to see them close to each other, the way I am right now, right? Jeezus, I mean, just look at how he’s stretching your mouth! Just nod if you love the fact that he’s bigger, baby. Does it turn you on even more, him being so big? It must, I’ve never seen your little guy so stiff before!”

She was not going to let me wander off into my own world; I was going to have to do this with her. With both of them. I don’t know if my nodding was noticed, but it was the best I could manage without risking my prize escaping my mouth. I kept on sucking as Derrick joined in on the ridicule,

“Yeah, he can tell with his mouth. Look at him, he can barely open wide enough to keep his teeth off my dick. But he’s doing it, aren’t you, Billy boy? You’re a real good boy. You’re doing such a good job that I’m going to reward you by letting you masturbate yourself to orgasm, as long as you promise to eat your ejaculate. All you have to do is swallow my cum, then you get to swallow you’re own. How’s that sound, cuck? You wanna be a cum-guzzling faggot? Does that sound like something you want to do?”

Oh fuck! That word…faggot!. Did he have any idea what that word did to me? What had I built into my masturbatory fantasies? Whenever I’d talk dirty to myself, that word evoked my most intense feelings. Whenever I encountered it in a video, that vid would most likely get watched again, if not saved. I had wanted to be a faggot for a man — have him call me that. I had craved it, and now here it was. I wanted to tell him he was right, but his cock demanded I give it the attention it deserved, leaving me to express my inner thoughts with only my inner voice as I sucked hungrily. Yes! I’m your faggot! I’m your cocksucking faggot! Give me that man-cock! Feed it to me! Make me your faggot! Cum in my mouth! Cum in my faggot mouth, goddammit!

I sucked and massaged his shaft for all I was worth, doing my best to convey my enthusiasm. It must have worked – he gradually became more aggressive, beginning with a subtle forward movement of his pelvis, pushing into my face until he had me pressed hard into the back of the sofa.

He stuffed his cock into my mouth until it was at the entrance to my throat. My mouth filled, I stared down the shaft in front of me, thinking, his dick is pushing into my throat, how can his pubes still be so far away?

Then he firmly pressed his hands to either side of my face, and I could feel the tension in his rigid fingers. They grasped me with just enough pressure to make it obvious there was no yield in them. It felt like my head was encased in a vice, save for my face, which was mashed into his pubes and skewered through the mouth. He took away my power of speech, leaving me only able to produce unintelligible sounds, all completely involuntary. When his thrusting filled my mouth, it came out as

“nnng… nnng… nnng… nnng”

And when he pushed his cock deep into my throat, it was

“ghaaack… ghaaack… gluuck… gluuck… glaahk.”

The first time he pushed into my throat, it felt like he was choking me with his cock. I was terrified he would unintentionally kill me. I have no idea what my “tell” is – that indication that I’m about to pass out – but he must have figured it out. When he paused to let me catch my breath just shy of my third brush with unconsciousness, I realized he knew what he was doing, and knowing that made all the difference. I put my trust in him, I put my very life in his hands, and focused all my attention on making my throat the best cock sleeve it could be for him. It freed me to give voice to my submissive desire, and I pulled away just long enough to goad him into further abuse,

“Yes! That’s it, choke me with it! Force that huge fucking cock down my throat! Jam that fat fucker in and hold me down on it! Make me swallow it! I want you to own this throat! Fuck it, it’s yours!”

When this thing had started, I had looked up at him and had seen his pleasure and satisfaction. Now I saw only animal lust and the triumph of a conqueror.

“Get ready, cocksucker… I’m gonna cum; and you’re gonna fuckin’ eat it! I’m gonna make you my faggot! ”

He shoved his cock as deep as it would go, mashing his balls against my chin.

“Yeah, eat it faggot. Swallow this cock while I feed you my nut! Uh, uh, UGHHH! Yeeaaahhhhh… FUCK!”

Brooke was beside herself over the dominant display, egging me on,

“That’s it, baby, take it! Use his semen to wash down your manhood!”

He erupted in my neck, past most of the nerve endings. I barely felt his cum sliding down my throat, but I felt his cock pulsing, and it was wonderful! It felt like victory to me, and I had survived it. Or at least the person I now was had survived it. He pulled out of me, and even through my watering eyes and spit-laced lashes, I could see he was pleased. He looked down on me like a treasured possession and remarked,

“Congratulations, you’re a cocksucker now. I love that self-satisfied smile on your face. Look at you – you take pride in it! You know you’re a good cocksucker, don’t you?”

Had it been a video (and how incredible that would have been!), this would have been the ending. It seemed only right that I deliver the obligatory scene-closing remark, just like in those videos. But my throat was abused; the best I could get out was a faint, hoarse whisper.

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

Derrick smiled and replied with a sincere,

“You’re welcome… faggot.”

It was just the thing to give my jangled libido one final tweak, and he knew it. Awash in fresh shame, I needed to express my gratitude to Brooke for sharing.

“Thank you for letting me suck him, honey. Now I have a better understanding of how much more of a man he is than me.”

Admitting my shame out loud compounded the indignity, and I basked in it until Derrick reminded me there was more to come.

“Now what are you going to do about that?”, pointing to my still-rigid prong.

I thought back to his verbal provocations, back when he thought he had to encourage me to eat his cum. He was expecting me to eat my own now. He had made me promise something about it, but honestly, I had been caught up in the moment and was now fuzzy on the details. Fortunately, he helped me out.

“Look, you don’t have to jerk it if you don’t want to, but if you don’t, I doubt it’s going to fit back in that cage anytime soon. Your wife and I are going to the bedroom now. You can come along as soon as you’re locked back up. It’s up to you how soon you get there. But whenever you orgasm, you’re going to have to prove you ate it.

“But how can I prove I ate it, if you aren’t here to watch?” I asked, honestly unable to think it through.

“I don’t care how you do it. You can slurp it into your mouth, hold it while you lock yourself, then show it to us before you swallow. You can jack off into a glass and do the same. You can take a video of yourself eating it for all I care, just decide. All we need to know is whether we should leave now, or do you want to put on a show for us?”

So, there it was: miss out on some of the hottest live porn imaginable, or jerk off and eat it in front of them. Once it was presented to me like that, I knew I wanted to perform my shameful act in front of them. Before I could say so, Brooke joined in

“Look, honey, I don’t care which you choose, just tell us now. That blowjob you just gave Derrick got me horny as fuck and we’ve got things to do!”

“I want to do it in front of you,” I admitted, looking down at the floor.

“Alright,” Derrick said, “then let’s get comfortable, babe.”

He took Brooke’s hand and led her to the sofa, where he sat back, threw one arm along the back, and invited Brooke to cuddle into him. So that you know- I responded by stepping forward. The thought of standing there while they were seated — essentially jacking in their faces — seemed wrong, even if it did provide the closest viewing. As soon as I grasped my stiffy to begin, Derrick stopped me.

“No, no, no. Kneel.”

I obeyed immediately, relieved at the obvious solution. With my penis once more in hand, I began tugging as I watched them. I had often imagined jerking off in their presence as I watched them, but this was different. Now they were watching me back. And not just a glance over to see if I was behaving myself. No, this was both of them giving me their undivided attention. Expecting me to put on a show.

It made me feel suddenly important; that their arousal was completely up to me. I wasn’t a supporting actor in this little vignette; I was the star! I rose on my knees, puffed out my chest, threw my shoulders back, and stuck out my pelvis, boldly displaying myself to them. Every part of my body shouted, “Look at me!” It would have been very impressive if it hadn’t all served to direct attention to my diminutive penis.

I tried my best, but my brain was on the wrong track. I was still trying to think like a man, straining to project power I no longer possessed, and they saw right through it. Noting my frustration, Brooke said,

“Billy, are you having trouble getting off? Would you like some help?”

God, would I! If she were just to touch it, I know I could show her the man she married. I may not measure up to Derrick, but dammit, I was still a man, and I wanted nothing more than to be that man for her. And if she got her mouth anywhere near my dick, I knew I’d shoot ropes. How could I express all that without exposing my frailty even further?

“Oh, Brooke, please! Please give me just a little… anything at all! Please!

“Of course, honey. I know just what you need.”

She scootched her butt to the edge of the sofa cushion, leaned forward, and whispered in my ear,

“Do you have any idea how hot I got watching you suck cock? Do you know how long I’ve imagined that? How many times have I jilled off to that? My husband is a cocksucker! Just thinking about it gets me flowing all over again. I bet it will do the same for you.”

I wanted to cry. She wasn’t going to touch me, or even tease me with the promise. She wasn’t going to help me be the man she married. No, she was reinforcing what I had become! And if I ever wanted to achieve the orgasm I craved so badly, I would have to follow her words wherever they took me.

“Just try it for me, baby; think back to how it felt when Derrick’s shaft was filling your mouth. Remember how it stretched your lips? How did you try so hard to unhinge your jaw, even as you struggled to lower it? Did you feel the way I did the first time I sucked it? Did you imagine yourself as a snake, working to take that monster down your throat in tiny increments; pausing to rest, then pushing yourself to swallow even more?”

Damn, I did! How did she know that? Not only had that image come to me unbidden, but now she had forced me to recall it, putting me right back in that submissive mindset. I had no business trying to assert my manhood. My place was to acknowledge my inferiority, even if I wasn’t currently submitting. Brooke egged me on further,

“Yes, pull on it! Pull on that little spike, and look at that cock you just sucked off. You drained the life out of it, and the fucker’s still longer and fatter than your miserable excuse for a sex organ. You know he’s the better man, with the better cock, don’t you? And you love it that way! Show us how much you agree with me. Show us how the mere thought of submitting to your superior makes you feel. Go ahead, faggot; show us!”

Aaaaagh… that word again! It was even more degrading coming from my wife. Her saying it out loud left no doubt; she understood how things had changed. I knew she would never look at me the same way again. What woman could feel good about having a fag for a husband? The shame of that word overwhelmed me. I closed my eyes and recalled peering up at him through the dense forest of his pubes, and the look of pure satisfaction I had given him. My pelvic muscles began to spasm, and I threw myself into it, jacking into the cupped, waiting hands of my wife. I looked at the milky white puddle that I was depositing there — a puddle still growing in size with each spasm – knowing I was going to eat it. Wanting to eat it. Pulling my little pecker for all it was worth, roughly strangling it to surrender those last few drops.

“Oh my, Billy! Such a lot of cum! Goooood boy!”

I basked in her praise, relishing my own triumph. I met my wife’s gaze and saw the expectation in her eyes as she moved her hands toward my mouth. I swallowed my pride, opened my mouth, and extended my tongue. I lapped at her hands, but the slime only coated my tongue before sliding back into the puddle. I barely got enough to taste; at this rate, I’d be lapping at it all day. Brooke was clearly enjoying herself.

“Oooooo, yeah! How’s that taste, baby? You like that? Is it as good as Derrick’s?”

She knew, as I did, that it wasn’t; still, her words served their purpose, nudging me further into depravity. I lowered my face into her hands, submerged my lips into the pool, and sucked. The slurping sound was loud, making it evident that I had sucked up a good portion of my ejaculate.

“Ha ha ha, what a good boy! Show us what you’ve got there, baby! I want to see!”

How she managed to pull off the switch from dirty-minded cuckoldress to playful schoolgirl, I’ll never know. I licked my cum mustache into my mouth as I leaned my head back. My mouth opened to display my imminent shame to each of them. I used my tongue to push the meager load forward onto my pursed lips and awaited their permission.

“Niiice, honey, very nice!” Brooke praised.

As soon as I heard Derrick’s matter-of-fact “Mmmm hmmm,” I closed my mouth, swallowed, and reopened wide, inviting them to confirm my compliance. Brooke burst out laughing,

“Ha ha ha. That was awesome, Billy! How’d it taste?”

“Fine,” was all I said.

“What? I thought you loved cum!”

“I love Derrick’s cum. Mine isn’t as good.”

She laughed again, but I don’t think she really understood. She hadn’t tasted mine since she started seeing Derrick, so she never had a true side-by-side comparison. She was probably trying to recall what mine tasted like, after years of avoidance, followed by a month of eating his. In fact, for me, it had little to do with taste; it was all about the feeling. When I gulped down my own cum, I won’t deny it gave me a shiver of shame – particularly with them watching. But when I submitted to Derrick by consuming his seed, I surrendered my status to him. It was a life-changing moment; there simply was no comparison.

“Let her have a little fun, cuck, even if it is at your expense. You can handle it, because you and I both know you did well, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters.”

Talk about perspective! Suddenly, Brooke’s harmless laughter barely registered with me. I didn’t know what to do with the new conflicting emotions, but the good ones definitely outweighed the bad. It shames me to admit it, but the best way to describe how I felt would be “aflutter”. I grabbed my chastity cage off the coffee table and fitted it over my empty balls, locking myself away without having to be told. I still didn’t like the cage’s cruel feeling, but I understood why it made perfect sense for me to wear it, and, in spite of myself, I loved what it represented.

Dutifully confined, I followed them to the bedroom, doing my best to focus on what was to come, valiantly trying to distract myself from what I had just done. I hadn’t just sucked Derrick off, I had made love to his cock… and his balls. I had let him fuck my face, let him violate my throat. I had eaten my own cum for him, I had shown him I wanted to be his faggot. I shivered with the realization that I was, in fact, a hopeless faggot for his cock. I don’t think I could help myself if I tried.

Entering the bedroom, I snagged an extra pillow off the bed and retreated to my chair. Pulling my feet up, I hugged the pillow, painfully aware that I was no longer a consideration for them. I surrendered to the vivid memory of my mouth filled with cock.

Never before had I orgasmed prior to watching them, and it felt decidedly different. More removed than before, I was strangely disinterested in the mechanics of their activity, but I did enjoy the excellent view I had of Brooke’s sexy tits. They hung beautifully from her chest as she assumed the doggie position for Derrick. The only visual turn-on I liked more than watching my wife’s tits hang was watching them swing. A treat I almost never got to see, since she said it was uncomfortable, even painful. That’s why she always supported them with one arm on the rare occasion when she would allow me a rear entry.

She told me she didn’t particularly like doggie-style, calling it “too much like animals humping”. I remember at the time thinking, “Yeah, no shit! That’s exactly why I like it!” Of course, I didn’t give voice to that thought.

On cue, Brooke’s arm wrapped her hanging titties as soon as Derrick began to bump into her pelvis. I got to see a little jiggle in the bits that her forearm couldn’t cover, but she contained herself quite effectively. What I didn’t know was how physically taxing the position was; I certainly never forced her to hold it for very long. Derrick not only kept going, but his enthusiasm moved from enjoyment to wild abandon, and the force of his thrusts went from cheek-clapping to brutal pounding. Suddenly, Brooke needed four points on the bed to avoid her face being pounded into the mattress. The free swing of her tits started wildly erratic, but eventually settled into a complimentary smacking together as Derrick found his own rhythm. I could see it in her face — she was embarrassed, even mortified, at the way I was seeing her, tits flailing uncontrollably. Yes, Brooke, darling, you do look like an animal being mounted from behind. You’re taking cock like a good little whore, and you know it! You know I’m seeing you at your most animalistic, and I love it as much as you do, you filthy slut! You’re just a bitch in heat! God, how I love you!

My cage began pinching uncomfortably, forcing my feet back to the floor in a desperate attempt to relieve some pressure. I was hugging the pillow tighter now, no longer seeking comfort, only a physical outlet for my torment. I bit down hard on the pillow to stifle my groans. Her tits were taking a beating, and I knew her poor pussy was getting it even worse. I wanted him to come, if only to end her ordeal. The fact that my services would soon be required occurred to me only as an afterthought, but once it did, it quickly took over.

I couldn’t see Derrick’s cock from this angle, but I’d seen it this way before, pistoning in and out of Brooke’s pussy. I knew the rock-hard shaft would be slick and glistening. When I had sucked it a half-hour ago, I thought there was nothing better than having it all to myself, slippery with my own saliva. But how could it not be better now, coated with their funky slime? And I was going to get to clean it off! I could hardly wait, and I found myself willing Derrick to come, so that I could lick and suck him to my heart’s content.

I heard it start, and I tore my eyes from Brooke to confirm what I already knew, expecting to see a grimacing Derrick, eyes closed, face to the heavens, announcing his conquest. Instead, he was looking directly at me. This was no random gaze into the distance; it was a riveting stare that made a statement. In fact, the same statement over and over, squeezing out his payload with every contraction of his muscular buttocks. “Take it!” he growled with each thrust, driving it home, injecting himself deep into her. “Fucking… take it! Take it! Take it!”

When he finally relented, his demeanor changed from conqueror to conspirator, no doubt picturing the illicit act I was about to commit, which he had made possible. He knee-walked away from the scene of the action, and Brooke fell onto her side, clamping her legs together, intent on trapping his load inside. Meanwhile, his heavy cock dangled between his legs invitingly. The thickness of its coating beckoned, but Brooke’s voice broke the spell.

“Billy boy… I have something for you, baby.” The sing-song delivery made it clear she enjoyed this part as much as I. I wanted it badly, but also knew she had things under control. Derrick, on the other hand, had no way to thwart the pull of gravity, and the rich treat he hosted was inexorably making its way downward, forming a drop at the end which grew in size and began to separate, trailing a lengthening string. I looked to Brooke and stammered,

“Can I start with Derrick? Please!”

Fortunately, she had seen it too and immediately understood, smiling as she nodded her assent. I lay on my back in front of him and scootched forward until my mouth was directly under his fat cock, dangling its precious payload. The suspended bead continued its descent until it fell onto my tongue. I took my time and savored it, appreciating the taste, knowing there was so much more ahead.

“God, Billy! You’re quite the little piggy, aren’t you? Just look at you, blissing out over that man-spunk! What are you, a cum whore? I thought you were just a cocksucker! What are you waiting for, baby? It’s right there… suck it!”

I took the softening penis into my mouth and slathered my tongue all around it, scraping off the slime and collecting it in my cheeks.

“How’s it taste, cuck?” he mocked.

I backed off to swallow and think it over. Why are the simplest questions sometimes the hardest? I can’t even understand wine profiles, and he wants me to put this into words? It tastes like heterosexual intercourse, does that help? I could say it tastes like a wonderful combination of man and woman, but that only begs follow-on questions I can’t answer any better. I settled on trying to convey the overall effect.

“It tastes… rich with potential. What’s that word… fecund. Yeah, that’s it, it’s a fecund mixture.”

I took it back into my mouth, sucking harder to get every last bit of the ripe goo. I left out one thing about the taste, even though it was the most important to me. It did nothing to convey any flavor, but the taste made me feel like I was right where I needed to be, doing what I most needed to do.

Derrick looked down at me, nursing contentedly on him, and patted my head.

“You’re a good boy, Billy. You’re a real good boy.”

Did he know what those words did to me? Had he seen me shiver at their sound? Did he know the promise of hearing those words would get me to do almost anything for him? I certainly hoped not. As much as I loved knowing the power those words had over me, I feared what he might do with that knowledge.

Brooke must have noticed my efforts had slowed and that I was settling in. Her subtle “ahem” reminded me I had other obligations. I looked over and she parted her legs, revealing her sticky pussy lips.

“Time for the main course, baby.”

I loved that about Brooke, her obvious enjoyment amplified my own. Demeaning yourself is just so much more powerful in front of someone who gets off on it.

I approached her and stuck out my tongue to play in the slime oozing out of her gaping gash. I pushed it around, tasting a little, gently coaxing her lips to open further. I gathered some of the syrup and brought it up to her clit, bathing it, testing her sensitivity. She pushed my head back down; apparently, this wasn’t going to be one of those sessions. I dutifully shifted gears and began to slurp at my shameful meal.

“Oh God, yes, cucky! That’s my boy. Eat my messy cunny! Clean me good! Eat his cum, get it all!”

She pulled my head into her, mashing her sloppy pussy all over my face, force-feeding me their fuck-juices. I groaned and stuck my tongue in as deep as I could, curling it to scrape over her G-spot, doing my best to coax her arousal in spite of her redirection. The fingers combing through my hair were all the encouragement I needed. I wanted to bring her to orgasm while Derrick watched. It was a selfish attempt to compete, and she recognized it.

“Alright, alright… settle down.”

She pushed me away, and I looked up to silently plead my case.

“We can do that anytime, honey. Right now, Derrick’s here, so you need to behave yourself. Now go back to your corner and watch like a good boy.”

Being exiled to my corner was by now familiar, and I almost welcomed the opportunity to sort through the flood of emotions that had inundated me. Bathing in the backwash of that flood was pleasant, and Brooke and Derrick seemed to be in a similar place. They cuddled and shared murmured secrets, something that used to torment me, but which I was coming to terms with. Once it was apparent their intimate sharing was not going to reignite anything, I curled up on the floor in front of my chair, grateful for the chance to stay with them, just in case. The floor was not as comfortable as the guest room, to be sure, but I did like the symbolism. It was an effortless way to further display my submission to both of them, and that gave me great satisfaction.

The weeks that followed were among the best of my new life. The three of us settled into our respective roles, first becoming comfortable in them, then refining the most pleasurable aspects. I found that I loved lying under my wife as she knelt doggy, looking up at Derrick’s fat, glistening rod slide in and out of her gaping pussy. Pillow under my head to get as close as possible, he drags his balls across my chin, and I stick out my tongue to sneak a taste of their sex while it’s happening. The certainty of knowing how voluminous the inevitable cum load will be.

Of course, with repetition, there is a natural drop-off in intensity, which for me translated into less humiliation. Still, my anxiety over the future was also reduced, allowing me to more fully enjoy my cleaning duties and my opportunities to service Derrick orally.

The novelty of our interplay wore off for Brooke and Derrick, too, but their thoughts of the future were never a concern; they were more of a cornucopia of opportunities. I guess it was only natural they would be tempted to introduce some variety long before it occurred to me.

“Bill…”

Something about the way she said my name, that little lilt at the end, made my ears prick.

“Do you remember when I told you I thought it would be hot if someone else knew about us?”

Did I remember? Was she fucking kidding me? Of course I remember! I’d masturbated to the thought more than once. I was unsure whether it would be wise to admit it, so I decided to play it cool.

“Uh, sure… yeah, I remember.”

“Well… someone does, and they’re coming over to visit.”

A pit hardened in my stomach at the news. There was no doubt it was Allie, which probably meant…

“I guess that means her husband knows, too.” It slipped out, inadvertently revealing my emotions. I didn’t even know his name, but I was crestfallen, wondering how far our secret had spread.

“Timothy? Not necessarily,” she corrected. “If she wants him to know, then he does. Either way, what she tells her little man is really no concern of mine.”

Her little man? Why would Brooke speak about a man she hardly knows with so little respect? Unless…

“Honey? Do Allie and Timothy have a… special relationship?”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it! Perhaps even more special than ours! I’m starting to realize we have a fairly vanilla cuckold thing going on, at least compared to Allie and Timothy. Allie has had many interesting experiences. She’s very controlling and outgoing. It works well for them, since Timothy is very… well, you’ll see.”

So, her cuck is a doormat… great. I’m sure he’ll be loads of fun to talk to. Still, my mind was inundated with thoughts of what it would be like to be with a strong-willed cuckoldress who was not dominating me. At least I hoped she wouldn’t be.

“What about her bull?” I asked, concerned over how he and I might relate to each other. “And how about Derrick? Will he be there?”

“No, honey; not this time.”

So, there’s already a “next time” envisioned. This casual visit was showing all the signs of supplying my next batch of masturbatory memories.

“What have you told her about me? Does she know about my triggers?”

“I don’t remember. I’ve told her about our lifestyle and about what we do. I’m sure I’ve talked more about Derrick than I have about you. I mean, we’ve been over this before. Not everything is about you, you know.”

“I know, honey, it’s just that I’m worried she might have the wrong impression of me, if she knows how aroused I get when…”

“When what, baby?”

“When I’m called… You know… faggot.” I whispered the word, even though no one was around to overhear.

“And what might she mistakenly conclude about that?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t know what it might mean to her, but for me it conjures things I’ve never even done before. Filthy, nasty things. It’s not who I am!”

“Well, I honestly don’t know what you’re imagining. That word means little to me. I only used it because I saw what it does to you. I love seeing you like that. And as for how you identify, I really don’t care about that either. Call yourself a cocksucker, bi, gay, fag, whatever. As long as you aren’t thinking of yourself as a man anymore, I couldn’t care less.”

It might have made me feel a little better, but it did little to calm my concerns over Allie.

“I don’t mean for this to sound inhospitable, but why are they coming over? I mean, are we going to be… doing stuff together?”

“No, honey, not this time. I just want to spend more time with Allie, get to know how she manages things, and what options we might have in the future. Plus, I think it would be good for you to get to know someone like Timothy. He and Allie have been at this a long time, and they’ve been through a lot together.”

“What does that mean? A lot of what?”

“Well, a lot of bulls, for one thing. She’s never been with anyone for more than a year, and many of them don’t make it more than a couple of months. Some have only been one-night stands. They haven’t always been one-at-a-time either.”

Shit… juggling multiple bulls? What’s that like? I guess I do have something to talk about with him. I was glad there would be no bulls, mainly because it reduced the chances I would be required to perform for Allie. I had only ever obeyed Brooke and Derrick up till now, and even when it was Derrick, I could usually tell myself I was doing it for Brooke. Maybe I still could, as long as she was there? God, this is getting complicated!

To Be Continued…

*The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story has been previously published on other free websites and is now in the public domain, so that we can publish it here.