SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

So, I had gotten into the whole cuckold, chastity, humiliation fantasy when I was younger, to the point that it became an obsession. This unrequited obsession only made me want to experience it more.

I had not shared this with the woman who would eventually become my wife before we wed. Or for several years into the marriage. I know that is not right, but there was no evil intent. I felt like a freak… so of course I expected that to be a “normy’s” response. I truly love Melissa (Missy) and did not want to scare her off. I just figured it would remain my private fantasy, fueled by Literotica and other sites.

But all of that changed one night about five years in. We were in bed, caressing each other, well on our way to intercourse, when Missy asked in her husky, feminine voice, “Tell me your fantasies…”

She had caught me completely off guard. Of course, this discussion always comes up in any marriage, but we had been together so long, I had figured we were the exception.

“I… umm… I don’t think I have any…”

She could tell by the sudden flush that had come over me and my nervousness that I was full of it. “Oh, bullshit. I know you do, and you practically nutted when I just asked. Spill.”

She’d been fondling my erection when she asked, and she was right. “You’ll think I’m a disgusting pervert…”

Now she was really intrigued, “I promise… no judgment zone… I want to know.”

Like an idiot, I unloaded. Not smart enough to start small with, “Oh, I may have pictured you with another guy a couple times,” I let my long-suppressed thoughts and feelings explode. For the next hour, I told her in great detail about cuckoldry, about my feelings of inadequacy, and how she deserved a “real man with a big dick and stamina”… about chastity and being denied and used, even about her fucking me with a strap-on or her being cruel to me…”

She lay there wide-eyed. “OMG. OMFG.”

When I finally stopped oversharing, I realized I had left her shocked. I had definitely killed the mood. Never having been exposed to any of this type of kink, Missy looked at me as if she were realizing she had married a crazy person. She asked how long I had had these fantasies. In hindsight, at least she did not ask me to seek counseling or jump up and flee.

We had many more conversations in the coming days and weeks. She realized this must have come from the internet to some extent and asked to see the sites I looked at so she could learn more about my “needs.” I told her this lifestyle had been around long before the internet, but, of course, showed her the stories and videos she asked for. Her initial shock seemed to have given way to curiosity.

Eventually, we began to test the waters and play with some of my fantasies. We ordered a decent chastity cage, and Missy would lock up “little Dickie” for a few hours… then a few days… then as much as a month.

She would try to keep me teased while I was locked up, but I could tell her heart was not in it. The biggest change in that regard came in her demand for cunnilingus. Before, she had always seemed hesitant to let me go down on her, feeling selfish about it. Now, our sex always began with me getting her off with my tongue, and she seemed to want it more when I was caged. “It’s exciting knowing I can cum and I don’t have to fuck you.”

“Um… HAVE to fuck me? Do I not do anything for you?”

Her response was almost beyond the heartlessness of my fantasies, “You said it, not me. You brought it up, so yeah. You give adequate head, but your dick is worthless. You’re lucky I ever let you out, now that I know what you really are.”

It took me awhile to process that one, since it was apparent the statement was not contrived as part of a game. On the one hand, I was depressed that she had obviously been faking it for our entire relationship. On the other hand, I wanted her desperately… and it was now equally obvious that every time she allowed intercourse, it was just a mercy fuck. It took all the thrill out of my orgasmic relief. I was humiliated as I made love to her and felt guilty when I got to cum.

This dynamic made me bring up cuckolding even more. As bad as I felt, I still loved her and explained that she should be able to experience satisfying sex. Missy, showing her normally sweet character, replied that she could not cheat on me… that she loved me for many reasons and lots of women chose to forego good sex to keep their marriage.

This went on for years. When I was feeling particularly guilty and useless, I would bring it up again. It led to many arguments.

Finally, she caved. She said she would at least try it.

Great! We would have to figure out who and how. Would I be tied to a chair in the corner? Would I be involved?

She seemed exasperated. “Get that out of your head.” There was a guy at work she felt she could trust. He had asked her out a couple of times, so she would just say yes the next time he asked. “IF we end up sleeping together, I won’t be bringing him home, at least not for awhile. You will just have to live with me telling you about it when I decide to come home.”

Of course it happened. Missy is a knockout. The next week, she told me she had a date and that I would be home alone Saturday night. Before she left, she made sure I was securely locked up. “You don’t get to sit here and jack off all night thinking about us doing what you can’t.”

They went out a dozen times without having sex. “You don’t expect me to just jump in the sack, do you? I am not a whore. It’s bad enough that I am dating while married. Oh, we ran into your sister at the restaurant tonight. Good luck explaining that. I don’t think she bought us being on a work thing.”

Finally, one night I was sitting at home alone when I got a text from her.

*Are you certain you want me to have sex with another guy? *

I was trembling as I responded. *Yes*

I quickly got another text. *Say it. I do not want you blaming me later. *

*I cannot satisfy you in bed. Please see if Dan can. You deserve it. *

It was a long time before I got another text.

*Don’t wait up. Will be home tomorrow. *

I barely slept that night, with images of her being fucked by Dan, who I knew to be taller and in better shape than I, going through my mind.

When she got home, after noon the next day, I was damn near apoplectic. I was dripping pre-cum from my cage… my dick had been trying to burst out of it for hours.

“Sorry, honey. I am fucking exhausted. I’m going to bed. If you’re good and let me sleep, I might tell you about it when I wake up.”

That evening, as I made her something to eat, she was chatting with Dan by text, making another date.

When she was done eating, she summoned me to the living room. She sat in my recliner and had me sit across from her, naked, on the couch. “You can ask now.”

“D-did you?”

She merely nodded. But I could tell she was excited.

“Was it… was it good?”

She nodded again.

“Did you… you know…” I couldn’t say it.

“Did I cum?”

Now I nodded.

She paused. She exhaled. “I have to thank you for this, Richard.”

She made me wait.

“I CAN cum with a MAN’S dick… he made love to me repeatedly… and I had no idea orgasms could be that good.”

My emotions were all over the place. Intense arousal, of course. But also, excitement… for me and for me. This is what I had wanted her to experience. At the same time, I was frustrated that I had not been involved, had not been able to watch, at least. I worried whether she would leave me. And, in the back of my mind, something I could not define was nagging at me. Eventually, after days of playing on my mind, it would click. It was her words. Dan had not “fucked” her. They didn’t “have sex.” They MADE LOVE. She had always called it fucking or getting laid. Now it was making love.

She watched the wheels spinning in my mind for a few moments, glanced at my cage as it jumped a couple of times, and smiled precociously, “I love you for this, Dickie, no matter where it leads… thank you.”

“Um… uh, you’re welcome. And I love you, too, Missy. Gawd, I want you.”

She winked, “You want to reclaim your wife?”

I nodded emphatically.

She made a tsk, tsk sound. “Well, I am way too sore even for your little wee wee. But if you promise to be gentle, you can come over here and lick me to orgasm.” She spread her thighs, giving me my first look at her wrecked womanhood.

I nearly came, cage or not. I was on my knees in a heartbeat, eager to taste her. She placed her hands on my head, preventing me from getting to the prize. “Slow down, buddy… take your time and do it right. You do not get to cum today, so there is no point in you getting excited…”

But I WAS excited. I’m not sure she understood, but her taking charge and telling me I would continue to be denied only made servicing her more exciting.

I forced myself to remain calm as I kissed, licked, and sucked her labia, then her clit. She had showered, so I did not have to clean up after them. Nonetheless, there was a difference. Her familiar nether lips and bud, and especially her canal, were… different. It took me awhile to understand, but the humiliation I felt when I did hurt and aroused me at the same time. She felt different because when I had intercourse with her, my penis was not big enough to create a change in her womanhood. Obviously, Dan’s man size dick left her looser and distended, if only temporarily.

She sighed pleasantly at my loving ministrations. However, it took awhile for me actually to build her up to an aroused state. While I worked, she explained in a kind tone, “I want you to understand that you are not being punished, Richard. If anything, I really appreciate you giving me a hall pass of sorts. I had no idea what I was missing.”

She stopped talking long enough to guide my mouth over a bit, correcting me silently.

More humiliation, intended or not.

“After reading your stories and doing my own research, I realized something. The female-led relationship, chastity, games, and especially cuckolding are meant to serve ME. Your enjoyment comes from MY enjoyment, right?”

Mouth full, “Mmm-hmmm.”

“So cuckolding is about my pleasure. During my dates and during my recovery period afterward, you will remain caged. There will be no more than oral servitude, and only if I want it. How long is my recovery time, you might ask? I have no idea. It will be whenever I feel like it, I suppose…”

She was becoming aroused now. Was it because of my loving on her bud? Or because she was enjoying the thought of denying me, giving herself to Dan, and being the selfish center of attention? I wish I knew.

She stopped talking, grasped my head with both hands, and forced my face into her crotch forcefully. She began thrusting against my face, fucking it… basically using me to masturbate. Before long, she cried out in orgasmic release, holding me still on her. I continued to lick her bud tenderly while she recovered.

When she had, she pushed me backwards and I fell on my butt.

“Oh, damn, thank you, that was good.”

In the coming weeks, there was a complete paradigm shift in our relationship. Some of it happened almost immediately; some was gradual. I hoped it meant our marriage was improving.

The first change was that she spent at least one night every weekend, sometimes two, with Dan. While she was gone, she would text me occasionally about incidentals… shopping needs, what she would like for dinner when she got home, etc. When I worked up the courage to mention that I would like to be aware… for teasing purposes, about their lovemaking, she got mad at first. “I am not going to give you a blow-by-blow of our sexy time.” But then she came up with a solution.

“When he makes me orgasm, I will send you an explosion emoji via text. Obviously, I can’t do that during our lovemaking, but after. When he cums, I’ll send you an eggplant emoji.” She sounded excited to share that with me.

The next weekend after that discussion, I got a rude, humiliating, exciting awakening. Friday afternoon, I got a 💥 emoji. A couple hours later, I got 💥💥💥💥💥💥… holy shit. I figured she had forgotten the eggplant. But several hours later, I got 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥🍆💥💥💥🤗.

Sonofabitch. I got woken up in the middle of the night; I got texts in the middle of the day. I did not know whether to feel more pathetic because I rarely lasted more than two minutes, or impressed with his stamina and ability to make her cum. Both, I suppose. Then, after a couple of weeks, I told her I got the picture, and she did not have to text anymore.

She giggled playfully, “Driving you fuckin’ nuts, huh? Nothin’ doin’ sweetheart. Now I WANT you to know.”

We still had intercourse. But my opportunities were severely limited. I was caged while she was gone, and usually for at least two days after she got back. That left only a couple of days in the middle of the week when we were both busy. So there were times I would go weeks without.

When it did happen, it had, of course, changed. There was no longer any reason for her to fake it. I was happy she was not faking anymore… but the result was that, although pleasant and loving, she may as well have been filing her nails or texting on her phone while I slid my pathetic pecker into her til I nutted. She had taken to making me wear a condom so she would not have to clean up the mess.

There were actually a couple of times when she WAS texting while I humped away. Once with MY sister, and once with Dan.

I was getting lots of practice at cunnilingus. She enjoyed my oral attentions because, “you’re getting really good at it, and that way I don’t have to do all the work of fucking you.”

It was uncanny that she could make such a cruel statement sound so sweet. She was just being honest, and I had, after all, asked for it.

The humiliation was bumped up another notch. Since their relationship was no secret, it was not an illicit affair, and Missy still texted or called Dan during our time together.

One night, we were both lying in bed, reading, when he called. I tried to focus on my book. I could only hear her side of the conversation as they talked about work. Then the conversation turned to sex… her voice grew more husky; I could tell she was getting aroused. They were having phone sex now, “Oh, fuck yeah… describe what you’re gonna do to me this weekend…”

She reached into her nightstand, grabbing her vibrator. Soon she was diddling herself with it while holding her cell phone with her other hand. I was not caged at the moment, so my dick was hard as a rock.

Her expression changed as if she realized she was being silly, doing the work herself. She tossed the vibrator aside, tossed back the sheets, then snapped her fingers to get my attention (as if she did not already have it.) Then she pointed one finger at her sopping wet sex without even looking at me.

I crawled between her thighs and began kissing her hot and ready womanhood, while she continued her phone sex with her lover.

I had brought her to two screaming orgasms (or Dan had) when she mewled, “Oh, gawwwd, I need a dick in meeee…”

I got very excited and moved up her body to give her what she was practically begging for. I was just about to enter her when she got a frustrated expression on her face, then laughed.

“A real dick, silly…” She placed her off hand on my head and pushed me back down, “Stay on task, vibrator boy…”

Then she resumed her phone sex with Dan while I took her to three more orgasms.

When she said sweet nothings to him and said goodnight, she looked up to see me leaning up, hopeful, with my iron bar erection pointing at her.

“Awww, I’m sorry, baby. Between Dan and your tongue, I am spent and ready for sleep. And before you ask, no, you cannot jack off. That is just nasty.”

This became more of a habit, taking away even more of my loving time with her, because she never wanted me after phone sex or sexting with Dan. I spent a lot of nights trying not to masturbate “little Dickie.”

All of this was frustrating but not demoralizing. I had fantasized about stuff like this for years. Even the most humiliating things were exciting.

The hardest part was the loss of intimacy. Not the sex… talking to each other, sharing dreams, making plans. She was still sweet and kind to me, but she no longer confided in me. That felt much “emptier” than the lack of sex. The lack of sex could be construed as part of our game.

Then something happened that gave me hope. Hope that I would finally be involved, and that I might regain my place in her heart.

It was Saturday afternoon. I was in the living room watching a war movie, trying to distract myself from my caged dick.

I got a text from Missy. *I have a present for you. *

I sent back a question mark.

 

 

All she sent was 💥💥💥💥💥🍆💥💥💥🍆

I had no idea how that was a present for me. Suddenly, I heard her coming in the door and stood to greet her.

She was wearing my favorite sundress. She crossed the room in three steps and, without a word, pushed me down onto my back, with my head resting on the center couch cushion.

I was confused, looking up as she reached under the dress and quickly pulled off her soaked panties. Just as quickly, she places her knees on the couch, straddling my head, and sits on my face.

“This was one of your fantasies… eat up, motherfucker.”

I was being fed my first creampie. I could taste her familiar fluids mixed with an unbelievable amount of semen, which I had not been familiar with. She pressed on her tummy, and I was suddenly swallowing as fast as I could, trying to keep up. When she felt her insides were clean, she moved my head around, making sure her thighs and nether lips were clean too.

This apparently was a real turn on for her… because even though she’d apparently just had several orgasms on Dan’s dick, she rode my face to three more.

I thought my dick was going to burst its cage open. If it had been cheap plastic rather than metal, it might have.

Missy looked at my condition and giggled mirthfully. Then she plopped down into my recliner.

“That was fucking hot, thank you!”

She lay there basking in the afterglow of her orgasms for a few minutes, a very satisfied smile on her face. I was happy for it, but also extremely frustrated knowing there was no possibility of relief for me.

“I have another gift for you… Dan will be coming here next weekend. You will be tied up in the room while we’re together… You will finally get to watch, you little pervert.” She said it with a smile, as if she were teasing me rather than actually criticizing me.

My eyes lit up. For the moment, I did not care if she let me cum before then or not… as much as I needed it, I almost hoped she wouldn’t. Being deep in subspace would only heighten the experience.

I needn’t have worried. Missy only let me out of my cage twice that next week, and then only for cleaning, which she supervised. She and Dan had phone sex three times, and each time, my mouth was used to get her off. I was almost apoplectic with need.

After the last time, on Friday, she commented, “I’m glad you are so desperate. It’ll make you more pliable on Saturday.”

Pliable? Oh, well. It seemed all three of us were excited about our coming adventure.

During the week, there were several deliveries for Missy. She would not tell me what she had ordered, but intimated the items were for me, for Saturday. This only heightened my anticipation.

A few hours before Dan was to arrive, Missy informed me that we both needed to get ready for the night’s events. First, we showered together. Then I got one last cleaning and shaving. Then she had me shave her clean. Being so close to her beautiful pubes, I tried to service her out of habit and desire. She pushed me back lovingly, “We’re saving this for a real man, Dickie.”

After we were ready, she led me into the living room. I was naked, she was dressed in a sexy pencil dress. She directed me to kneel.

She opened one of the packages she had received that week. I immediately recognized a very nice, well-made “humbler” which I had seen in videos. “Do not move or resist.”

She unlocked my chastity device and removed it. I now understand the hot shower had also been to soften up my ball sack. She gently worked on my testicles, pulling them away from my cock until she was able to place them between the pieces of the humbler. She then tightened it fully, leaving my testicles drawn away from my body, the ends of the humbler locked tight against the back of my thighs. I could not stand without practically ripping my balls off. My straining erection pointed downwards awkwardly.

“Now crawl into the bedroom.” She had put it on me in the living room so that she could watch me struggle.

She giggled as I gingerly made my way to our bedroom. Our master bed is a four-poster, very sturdy. She directed me to the end of the bed. She placed a sturdy collar around my neck. She then clipped leather cords to it, which were then fastened high up onto the posts at the foot of the bed.

This forced me to look straight ahead. Whatever happened on the bed later, I would have no choice but to watch.

Still on my knees, my butt felt very… undefended. Missy then stepped out of my sight. I heard her doing something. She stepped back into my sight to show me she was wearing a strap-on dildo. It was not too big, but since I had never been penetrated, it seemed huge to me. She made a big deal of slathering it with lube, then stepped behind me. “Do you want this?”

I nodded.

“You have to say it. I don’t want to do anything you do not want to do, babe.”

I quavered, but said, “Yes, I want it. Please fuck me, Missy.”

Sure enough, I soon felt myself being fondled, then penetrated. She was gentle and took her time, but ignored my grunts and groans. Soon she was fucking me rhythmically.

Then she suddenly bottomed out and stopped. She unfastened the straps and fastened them around MY waist, locking the dildo tightly in place. She picked up a remote and tapped it. The dildo began vibrating in my ass, massaging my prostate. FUCK! I cried out. Satisfied, she turned it off.

The next thing I knew, she fastened a flesh-light onto my erection, tying it around my waist also. She tapped a remote, and it began vibrating. Seeing it was working, she quickly turned it off so I would not accidentally cum, ruining her fun.

She bound my wrists to the bedposts also, stretched out. I was completely helpless. Just when I thought she was finished, she slowly forced a penis-shaped gag into my mouth and strapped it around my head. But not before going through the entire permissions thing again. It was not long enough to choke me, but it was thick enough that there was no way for me to move my tongue above it. In other words, I could not possibly form speech, and any time I tried, it felt like I was fellating a cock in my mouth.

I could not help but be impressed by my wife’s ingenuity. I had been fantasizing for years, and I would not have thought of all this.

I was completely immobilized, in a position where I would have to watch them on the bed whether I wanted to or not (of course I wanted to), I was emasculated with a cock in my ass and my mouth, and my penis was encased in what amounted to a straight chastity cage so I could feel nothing… unless she turned the vibrating function on.

Missy leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, since she could not kiss my cock filled mouth. “Love you, Richard. Dan will be here in a few. I will not be able to speak with you much while he is here. Enjoy.”

Then she walked out of the room, leaving me to contemplate what I had gotten myself into.

I heard the doorbell ring when Dan arrived. I could hear them moving around, murmuring, and occasionally laughing. But for an hour, I had no idea what was going on.

Finally, I heard them enter the room behind me. I felt a presence beside me and heard Dan’s baritone voice, “I just want to make sure you are actually okay with all this, Richard. Are you?”

His tone was polite, no condescension or disrespect. As humiliated as I felt, there was some comfort in that. Of course, I could not speak, but I nodded my head in the affirmative and made a uh-huh sound.

“Good deal. Thanks.”

Then I heard the rustle of clothing behind me and sensed they were kissing and making out.

After a few minutes, they moved to the bed, her on her side, him on mine. They were both naked. Missy, of course, looked ravishing. Her body is toned; her breasts are a D cup and shaped wonderfully. Her nipples were erect, and I could smell her arousal. She was excited about this as I was.

Dan was taller than me and obviously worked out. He was not muscle-bound, but also well-toned. When he turned on the lamp, I got my first glimpse of his equipment and, of course, compared it to mine. The primary thing I took from it was that, unlike me when sex was imminent, his dick was not turgid yet. It was not huge like in my porn stories… but even flaccid it was significantly larger… longer and thicker… than mine and hung heavily between his thighs. Somehow, since it was not a porn story, huge, but “normal,” it made me feel like an adolescent in the presence of a real man.

They both climbed onto our king-size bed and met in the middle. They began caressing each other, kissing again, and whispering sweet nothings.

I thought that was almost more disconcerting than if they had just started fucking. If they were stereotypical, he would have been pounding the hell out of her, and she would have been screaming through multiple orgasms already and cursing my ineptitude. That never happened. What actually happened had me even more aroused, if more insecure.

Eventually, Dan began kissing his way down her body. He spent a good deal of time loving on her breasts, drawing sighs from her. Then he made his way down to her womanhood, and though I could not see exactly what he did, it was apparent he was quite practiced and happy performing cunnilingus. I could hear her satisfied moans and mewling, and moaning, “Oh, gawd… Dan… oh, fuck…”

I could not see what he was doing because when he moved between her legs, it placed his buttocks, raised on his knees, directly in front of my face. His ass, balls, and phallus were not what I had imagined I would be looking at… but that was all I could see. I was definitely aroused by the sounds and the aroma of Missy’s arousal, but not by his junk in my face. Junk which still was not tumescent, making me feel even more worthless. When I went down on her, I could not stay on the bed, because more often than not, the contact with the sheets would cause a premature ejaculation, ending the festivities. He apparently had control of himself. Fuck.

Soon she was cumming… crying out his name. I waited for him to move up her body and drive into her. But he didn’t. He stayed in place, kissing her thighs and abdomen tenderly until her breathing became ragged again and she was moaning again… ready again. He again went down on her… taking his time to build her up to another crescendo.

He kept repeating this process over and over, making her orgasm again and again. He had no problem delaying his own pleasure, no chastity cage necessary.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he gradually moved up her body. He moved into the missionary position, placing the head of his penis between the lips of her vulva without attempting to enter her. They both seemed so relaxed. I understood why she was; I was at a loss as to why he was so calm and still flaccid.

They kissed and caressed each other for awhile. They were whispering lovingly to each other. I could not make out what they were saying, other than her telling how wonderful his mouth had been on her.

As they kissed, I noticed his shaft was finally becoming turgid. He had such self-control. He simply remained in place and allowed it to grow into her, the head gradually penetrating my wife. Then, almost as an afterthought, he pressed forward until they were fully joined.

I noticed something which hurt as much as it aroused me. As I said, he was not porn star huge, but he was much longer and girthier than I. There were no shocked cries, no comments asking him to go slow, or about how much bigger he was than me. They had been lovers long enough now that she was accustomed to his mass inside her body.

It hurt because she had become habituated to him. They shared the fact that he went places I could never go within her without comment because it “just was.” And I was on the outside in that dynamic.

He began to piston into her… slowly, lovingly. There was no pounding the hell out of the whore wife. They were in tune, and she eventually came quietly, biting his shoulder and mewling.

He just kept on… he raised her ankles onto her shoulders, and she groaned in pleasure until another orgasm overtook her. For a long time, they made love, changing positions. Doggie, cowgirl, scissor, missionary again, reverse cowgirl… which gave me a magnificent, exciting view, but I had the impression that it was merely a coincidence. She had several more orgasms, and the sonofabitch still had not lost it.

Two things became painfully obvious. One, of course, was that I could never hope to compare to his prowess and his stamina.

The second was devastating. Only being so deep in subspace kept me from crying, I think. There was no conversation with me. No degrading cries telling me how much bigger and better he was than me. My name was never mentioned, and I was never looked at. The lovers were entirely consumed with each other.

It dawned on me that Missy trussing me up the way she had was tantamount to putting Junior down with a bottle or down with some toys so the adults could have some alone time to make love. It made my dick throb, but it hurt too.

At long last, while she was riding him in the reverse cowgirl directly in front of me, he told her that he was ready. She moaned, not for my benefit, “Oh, fuck yeah, baby… give it to me… let’s make a baby tonight…”

She always made me wear a condom to prevent a mess. She was riding him bareback and begging for a baby. Surely THAT was for my torment.

I watched mesmerized as he groaned, his balls drew up, and his shaft pulsed over and over and over… filling my wife with his seed. She had another orgasm in response, her muscles contracting around him, forcing his swimmers into her fertile womb. Fuck. I did not want to raise his kid. Yet I nearly nutted with no contact because of the eroticism.

She leaned her head back to kiss him, which had the effect of driving him even further into her body.

When they had both recovered, they collapsed into each other’s arms and cuddled for awhile without speaking.

In the stories, in my fantasies, this was where she would force me to eat her creampie. She never did.

Instead, they relaxed for nearly an hour before I heard him ask, “Are you ready for Dick’s part?”

She laughed quietly, “I think so… let’s show him…”

She lay on the bed with her legs slightly askance, her womanhood facing me. He got onto his knees beside her. He began caressing her body, suckling her nipples, then finally using one hand to manipulate her clitoris before pressing his fingers inside her.

She moaned, “Oh, gawd…”

As if remembering something, she asked him to hand her the remotes from the nightstand. She tapped a couple of buttons… the dildo in my ass began vibrating softly against my prostate, and the fleshlight began vibrating against my poor, tortured cock. I struggled to resist cumming, but I knew it would not take long.

He was working her G-spot with his fingers and working her clit with his other hand. Her head was lolling from side to side, and she was moaning lustfully.

The scene, the aromas, and the manipulations of my own erogenous zones were too much. It was very difficult for me to reach orgasm… remember the humbler had my testicles drawn far away from my body, with no possibility of cinching up. So it was a lengthy, almost painful process, but I came… hard… thrusting my hips out of habit into the air.

I soon realized Missy had done something else to me. There was apparently a tube connecting the Fleshlight to the penis gag in my mouth. My cum was being pumped into my mouth, and I had to swallow as fast as I could to consume it. There was nowhere else for it to go.

There was my creampie.

I was shaking almost violently. I had been on the edge for over a week, and the vibrations kept pumping me… I felt as if my soul were blasting out of my body through my dick.

When I had finished, the vibrations continued even as I lost my erection.

The erotic scene continued in front of me. But I was out of subspace now. I felt pathetic… another man was taking my wife. The bindings and sex toys attached to me no longer felt erotic and sexy… now I just felt like a pathetic loser.

But they were paying no attention to me. They were intent on her pleasure, which was slowly approaching its climax. Despite my anguish, the scene brought me back to tumescence much more quickly than usual. Suddenly, Missy was lifting her buttocks off the bed, seemingly chasing his fingers.

And then she screamed. Trembling and thrusting her hips, she did not just cum… she ejaculated forcefully, soaking my face in the first “squirt” I had ever witnessed.

Me, the pathetic loser, could not help myself… I came again.

I was convulsing almost as much as she was, but whereas she could gulp in air, I was having to swallow my ejaculate again, trying not to choke.

It occurred to me briefly… it was the first time we had ever cum together. And it was the most powerful orgasm I had ever witnessed her have.

She collapsed onto the bed, exhausted and delirious. She moaned and mumbled for awhile, then seemed to lose consciousness. It had been a thoroughly draining experience.

I was back to feeling ridiculous as Dan pulled a sheet over them to keep her warm, then held her close as they both slept.

When they awoke, they both got up, and I could hear them moving around behind me and in the rest of the house for quite awhile.

Finally, they came back into the room, both fully dressed. Missy put down a towel on the bed in front of me, which was still soaked from her ejaculate.

She made no effort to release me.

She placed a document in front of me for me to read. I focused, and my heart raced. It was not a contract for an FLM. It was a divorce decree.

I shook my head and tried to say “no!”

She was calm and… almost sweet, “You’ve been served, Richard.”

She and Dan sat on the side of the bed holding each other as she explained. She wiped my tears with part of the towel covering the wet spot, then replaced it.

“I do love you, Richard, and I am not mad about your… proclivities. I wanted to do this tonight, fulfill your fantasies, to show you that. But this kind of stuff is not for me.”

She paused and squeezed Dan’s hand.

“We both know from the stuff we have read that there are women out there who would love to dominate you and treat you like a slave. But that is not what I want. I want a strong man who wants me only to himself. Oddly enough, by pestering me to cuckold you, you drove me into the arms of just such a man. Dan and I have fallen in love.”

She took a moment and kissed him deeply.

“He treats me like a queen, we have similar interests, and as you saw, the lovemaking is phenomenal. You know it was never anywhere nearly as good for us. I truly want to thank you for pushing me to find out how amazing it could be.”

She ran her fingers through my hair. Then she wiped her hand on the towel, “Eww.” My hair was coated in her ejaculate.

“I want you to know I hope we can still be friends. But if not… I recorded you pushing me to do this. And every time I asked you if this is truly what you want, like before the dildos, and you begged for it. And our lovemaking at your request. So if the divorce is contested, I’m sure the video will end up in court. Not optimal for any of us, but it will prove I was not unfaithful and that you are a pervert.”

“I made a copy of the digital video for both of us. One for Dan and me in case we end up in court, and one for you so you can masturbate to it until you find someone you are compatible with. I sincerely hope you do.”

She turned on the television and began a video montage of me pleading with her to try cuckolding me, telling her how I wanted her to experience better than me. The audio played as photos of text messages between us scrolled on the screen—messages that documented that I was fully aware of her tryst with Dan.

Then the video switched to what had occurred earlier in the evening. The things Missy had done to me played out as she confirmed I wanted it.

As the video played, Missy took out her phone and made a phone call. I heard my sister pick up. I was shaking my head to the extent I could and moaning, “No!”

She put it on speaker as she explained into the phone, “I’m sorry to bother you… But Richard is going to need some help over here. I am leaving him, and I don’t want him to be alone…”

My sister did not sound surprised, “Well, we all saw that coming. He isn’t going to hurt himself, is he?”

“Oh, no. I can promise he cannot hurt himself.”

Sis sounded annoyed, “It will take me about an hour to get there.”

“No problem. I’ll be gone, but he’ll be waiting. He has something for you to see.”

I was frantic as she disconnected the call. “I know this seems cruel, but I promise that is not my intent. It’s just that I feel so damned good after that session, and happier than I’ve been in a long time now that this decision has been made. I cannot leave you like this… but I am in no mood to listen to you trying to talk me out of it. So, I’ll let your sis release you.”

She started to pat my head but remembered not to touch me. “We have collected all of my clothes and personal stuff. We can come back for the rest later. Don’t worry about the house… it is yours. Dan has a very nice place.”

And then they were gone. I struggled against my bonds, but to no avail.

I had no choice but to settle in and watch the video. The camera was trained only on me… the lovers never appeared in it. I could definitely hear them making love, the sounds of their orgasms and moans of pleasure.

Despite my frustration, humiliation, and despondency, I could not help but get aroused. And she had never turned the vibrators off.

As I watched her cum splashing across my face and heard her screaming out in her female ejaculatory orgasms, I came for the third time since they had left, convulsing and trying to swallow my own jizz.

Just as my sister entered the room.

I gulped the semen in my mouth down as fast as I could and began trying to cry out through the gag for her to release me, so I could explain the evil thing Missy had done to me. It just came out as pathetic, muffled cries.

Connie stood there in shock for a moment. Then we both realized at the same time that the video was on repeat and had started over—the part where I was begging Missy to cuckold and abuse me.

I tried screaming through the gag for her to release me, hoping to distract her.

Connie looked at me disdainfully and simply said, “Shut the fuck up.” Then she sat on the bed to watch the video.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Even with my sister sitting there, learning my most private, depraved secrets, I got hard and nutted again watching the video.

Fortunately, I had very little semen left. But she could tell my convulsions were another orgasm.

“For fuck’s sake. I oughta just leave you here.”

She unfastened one wrist for me. “You are nasty. No wonder she left you. You can get yourself loose from here. It’ll give me time to get the fuck out of here… I need a fucking shower and a drink.”

Connie would not talk to me unless she needed something from then on out. If she did need something, I did as I was told without question.

I did not contest the divorce. There really was not much to contest. Missy asked for nothing from me.

I would keep getting texts from her. At work, at home, in the middle of the night… on dates, with 💥 or 🍆 emojis. Missy knew me too well. I’d get a text, and I’d get an almost painful erection. If I could, I would watch the video and rub one out. It would have been better to block her number. But I couldn’t do it. Part of me liked the humiliating torment. And part of me wondered if they might someday ask me to play.

Missy was right about something else. I did eventually find someone who “got me” and liked my “proclivities.” Katrina loves me and treats me very well. Lovingly and… sadistically.

Now, when I get a 💥 or a 🍆 text, Katrina sends Missy a 🔐 emoji. Then she makes me watch the video, then she makes me go down on her. She rarely unlocks my cage on those days. She says I do not get to cum just because everyone else does.

She and Missy are now good friends and share my secrets.

But that is a different story.

 

The End.

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