To Wear the Horns: A Cuckold Family


___*Dramatis Personae*___

Jenny: The mother. 41 years old, and a lush BBW. 62-40-56. 300lb. 42Q. Think an even bustier, bigger assed Lexxxi Luxe.

Caitlyn: The sister. 22 years old, and a thick bitch. 60-34-48. 230lb. 38H. Think a thicker, bustier Samantha 38G.

Shandy: The girlfriend and novice cuckoldress. 21, and growing big and strong. 48-34-46. 190lb. 32KK. By this point, you get the picture, but just in case, picture a chubbier Dors Feline.

Benjamin: The father, 39 years old and a total wimp. Slim, hairless, with a gaping asshole and a 3.5″ cock kept locked in a 1 1/2″ Jailbird cage fitted with punishment pins.

Julian: The younger brother, 19 1/2 years old. Only slightly more masculine than his father and a former high school swimmer. The best endowed of the three cucks – not that that’s saying much – with a 5″ penis in a 3″ Jailbird cage.

Billy: Our protagonist, 21 years old. Hairless, smooth, and living in paradise as his mother’s favourite little cuckold. His pathetic 4″ penis is kept in a 2.5″ Steelworx Looker 2 with urethral plug.


Most families spend their Sundays either at church or relaxing at home. And I guess my family isn’t any different. We just worship different things. Rather than the cross, there’s my mother’s huge ass. Rather than communion wine, there’s hot piss. And rather than some uncomfortable pain-in-the-ass pew, there’s… Actually that part is the same, because like most Sundays I started this one by sliding my well-lubed asshole down onto a fat black dildo until I hit the balls.

Every morning in our house starts the same way. I wake up first, and put out the dildos on the bench in front of the massive television in our living room. We get up so early the sun’s only just starting to rise, so we’ll have enough time to do our morning rituals. Then I wake my father and my little brother, who sleep in the same small bed I do, and we all go outside to piss through our chastity cages on the lawn, since we aren’t allowed to use the actual bathroom except as a special treat.

When we got back inside, it was time to handcuff my brother and my father, and lube their holes. At first it felt very weird, sliding my oily fingers inside my own father’s asshole, but after a while I got used to it. I have to be the one to do it since they can’t be trusted not to try and pump their prostates before they’re allowed to. Then I do my own hole, put our ballgags on, and we all march into the living room to squat down over the massive black dildos on the bench and get ready for our morning dose of humiliating pornography. Today, like most Sundays, we were in for a special treat. A lot of days it was just videos of us being degraded, but for a special Sunday treat, we’d be getting to see something far better!

The night before, my mother, sister, and girlfriend had spent two hours with three very well endowed men, and they’d caught it all on film. As always, they’d left me the film for our morning ritual, and we were treated immediately to the sight of my beautiful mother’s ruby red lips wrapped around a big, hard cock as she sucked it, while my girlfriend jerked off the other two. My sister must have been behind the camera, since she was nowhere in frame, but we could hear her.

“Hi pussyboys. I know you wish these were you, but you know how it is. Little dicked losers like you three don’t deserve to have sex with women like us, or, well, any women at all.” She said, with a little laugh in her voice, and zoomed in on my mother bobbing her head up and down on the black rod invading her mouth. Mom likes to use black guys and black toys to humiliate us, not because of any weird racial stuff, but because it’s even more obvious it isn’t us fucking her.

“But because it’s not your fault you were born with sad little baby dicks and because we’re so nice, we’re going to let you watch us fuck some real men. Billy, don’t forget to make sure the other two pay nice attention. Oh, and we’ll want breakfast in bed, it’s gonna be a long night…”

That was part of why we always got up so early. Every morning we’d have to watch at least an hour of video mom and sis, and sometimes my girlfriend Shandy, picked out or filmed to make us watch. Then we had to clean the house from whoever came over the night before, make them breakfast, and in dad and my brother’s case, go to work.

Between the sight of mom working on that cock and the feeling of the massive black dildo stretching my asshole and pressing against my prostate, I was already drooling precum out the front of my cage, my cock straining against the bars. One look showed me that dad and Julian were feeling the same way, and they were already starting to slowly grind up and down against the huge cocks impaling their rectums. It was my job to make sure they didn’t cum from it. Mom’s rule is very strict: we only get to make our cummies when she says, no other time.

Slowly, I lifted my hips and started pumping myself along the painfully huge dildo, grinding my prostate hard against it, moaning into my ball gag. I briefly glanced over at the camera in the corner (every room in the house had at least one) to make sure it was recording – videos of us humiliating ourselves like this were streamed live worldwide, and Mom inspected them quite often to make sure we followed the rules and fucked ourselves for the entire time the morning video lasted, stopping only if the alternative was an unpermitted orgasm.

I know what you’re thinking. How can we live like this? It’s simple. We love it. When I turned nineteen and it was time to get serious, I spent six months trying to live normally, going off to college – which is where I met Shandy – and doing the normal nine-to-five life. We all do it in our family every once in a while. And the entire while I was missing home, missing the fat cocks shoved up my ass, the sight of my fat mother roaming nude, even the feel of my chastity cage. I just didn’t like normal life as much as this, and when my little brother had his turn, he came crawling back too. Living as a cuckold family is an exhilarating, exhausting, incredibly erotic ride and once you’ve tried it, you just can’t go back to normal. I mean, once Shandy tried it just once, she was hooked just like the rest of us, and last time she went home to see her parents, she hooked them too!

But enough about that. You want to know what happened next. Well, it wasn’t long before all three of us were gasping and shivering as we slid our way down those fat black poles invading our greased-up holes, cocks jumping and throbbing in their cages, eyes fixed on the screen with a glassy stare. For me, I couldn’t get over the sight of my increasingly fat girlfriend moaning in pleasure as a muscular black man pounded her pussy with a cock easily four times longer than mine and my own mother sucked on her big, firm tits. I’d never made her cum that way with my cock and I can never hope to, either.

I could feel my orgasm starting to build from the relentless battering I was giving my own prostate, and just before it escaped me, I managed to slide myself off the enormous black prick and collapsed down onto all fours, panting. I tried to focus on the ache of the too-tight cage against my swollen dick, the way it pulled on my ballsack, but it didn’t help – but neither did the sight of my mother guzzling cum straight from one of those huge dicks on the screen. In the end, I didn’t manage to come down off the brink until the video ended and it was time for us to do our chores.


I was thankful for the special chairs we had built throughout the house. At first glance they looked like ordinary seats, perhaps a little bulky, but with the turn of a clever handle they parted into two, to reveal a special bench and a queening stool above it. We made sure to build them sturdy, and if it wasn’t for that, I’m not sure that I could have handled my mother’s three-hundred pounds of feminine divinity smothering me as she ate her breakfast. It was absolute bliss, of course, to have my head absolutely surrounded by her fat thighs, thick ass, and hairy cunt, and to hear her small sounds of satisfaction as my tongue circled her asshole, delighting in the taboo taste of her anus – though I was thankful for the bidet she had recently had installed.

This was also a normal occurrence in my house. I usually spent at least an hour serving my mother, my sister, and Shandy their breakfasts, and each of them would almost always use my face for their pleasure as they ate. Often, I doubled as their cleaner from the wild excesses of the night before, and this morning was no different. My body throbbed with desperate, humiliated arousal as I lapped half-dried black cum out of mother’s pussy – and the presence of the in-built dildo of the bench slowly pistoning in and out of my ass (another of those fiendishly clever innovations the bondage furniture designer we contracted came up with – each movement my mother made on the stool translated into a smooth pump of the oversized equine cock currently plowing my well-lubricated asshole) certainly didn’t help matters. Nor did my mother’s periodic reaching back to fondle my captive and vulnerable balls, tickling them with her long fingernails.

“Did you enjoy momma’s video?” She crooned between mouthfuls of bacon, wiggling her thick milk-white thighs against my face as I moaned in the affirmative. “I thought you would. You’ve always been such a pathetic little momma’s boy. Now open wide, I need to piss.” This was one of the unanticipated upsides of the special chairs we’d had built – rarely, if ever, did the three divine goddesses in the family have to use the toilet for something so mundane as passing water. They could simply sit on a comfortable chair, call one of us, and have us anally violated as we guzzled down their piss like the finest champagne.

After a long night of drinking, mother’s piss came in a veritable torrent, splashing against my lips and my cheeks – permanently smooth thanks to laser hair removal – as it spilled into my mouth so quickly it splashed on itself and began to overflow before I could begin to gulp. Acrid, salty, and yellow, it was and is my favourite drink in the world, and I shook and shuddered under my maternal goddess’s enormous ass with ecstatic pleasure as I gulped and desperately tried to keep up. When the stream flowed to a trickle and finally to a droplet, I obediently craned my tongue up to clean her fully, and she rewarded me with a vigorous wiggle of her hips that sent the horse cock impaling my asshole hard against my prostate.

“Good boy.” My mother cooed, turning her attention back to her breakfast, to her mimosa and her toast. The television clicked on as I resumed my duty of orally pleasuring her, and the sound of yet more hardcore pornography filled the air, muffled through the perfect flesh of my mother’s porcelain thighs. I knew I was in for a wild ride then, and sure enough within seconds my mother was rocking her hips back and forth, pressing down to force her cunt firmly onto my face, smearing me with her pussy juice as she enjoyed one of her favourite films.

I was nothing more than her sex toy, but the pounding of that oversized dildo into my abused hole made it hard to focus on eating her cunt. It took several long minutes before she came and sighed, relaxing her press down and letting the concealed springs of the seat raise her pressure off of my face. I knew she was done with me by well honed instinct, and after pressing a final worship full kiss to the hole from which I came, I slipped out from the bench and let it fold back into a comfortable chair before disappearing to attend to my sister Caitlyn’s breakfast routine, and then to my girlfriends.

Caitlyn’s was uneventful. She too used my face as her sex toy, grinding relentlessly on it until she came, leaving me breathless and redfaced from lack of air. It is no easy thing to spend an hour each morning smothered beneath three women, none of whom would be considered petite by normal society. And, just like my mother, Caitlyn also used my mouth as the receptacle for her divine urine and the drying remnants of semen that decorated her velvety, well-fucked lips.

By the time I approached Shandy with her breakfast of oatmeal, coffee, and fresh fruit – supplemented by bacon this morning in her quest to attain the heights of divine thickness my mother had reached – my stomach was uncomfortably full with the combined urine, and I felt as though I could feel it sloshing around. Shandy was already awake and on her computer, and when I presented her breakfast on its tray she gave me a kiss before silently pushing me down to assume the position. Unlike my mother and sister, she favoured a kneeling bench, but it too had been modified to serve as a queening stool, albeit one that left my ass unfilled during my service.

Only once I was greedily licking the drying cum from her strawberry blonde pubic hair did she speak. “Oh, Billy, sweetheart… I had such a good time last night. Did you see the video?” I moaned my answer out, a muffled ‘mhm’ as I devotedly suckled at the sensitive nub of flesh that crowned her increasingly well-pounded cunt. Day by day it more closely resembled my mother and sister’s, the skin of her outer labia darker, her inner lips more prominent. When we met, she was pristine and pink, practically a virgin, but by now the count of men she had slept with was well into the double digits, nearing triple. I adored the changes my beloved Shandy was working on her body – daily breast massage to grow her already lush double-K tits, an increased diet to thicken her entire frame to better resemble the Venus of Willendorf that all men secretly crave, and of course, her growing dedication to the most outrageous, blatant sluttery.

“Jacob really knew how to fuck. He just kept pounding me for ages.” Shandy wiggled her hips atop my face, and sighed when my hands parted her thick cheeks that I might lavish kisses on her asshole, still sensitive and puffy from its use last night. “I’m so glad you convinced me to come and live like your family do. I never dreamed I could be so satisfied, so fulfilled… Oh, god, baby, don’t stop.” The sensation of my tongue slithering into her puckered hole never failed to make her tremble, especially when freshly fucked.

“Oh, god… What I want to say, sweet Billy, is will you marry me? Will you be my cuckold faggot husband?” I didn’t know what to say. I would have been floored, were it not for the modified frame of the kneeling chair supporting me. I nearly came then and there, imagining my life as Shandy’s cuckold husband, picturing the wedding ceremony I was certain she’d want – there was no chance at all that it wouldn’t end with her drenched in semen and piss, and my tongue dutifully lapping it up while my entire family watched.

What else could I say? When I finally pulled my tongue from her ass, I answered her with joy in my heart. “Oh, Shandy, yes! I love you so much!”

Most men would probably be deeply conflicted if they found the taste of another man’s semen in their fiancee’s pussy. I was thrilled instead. Just moments before, Shandy had asked me to marry her as I made out with her asshole, and I had said yes. Now I was back to worshipping her divine pussy as her thick ass wobbled on top of my face, savouring the mingled taste of three different men’s dried semen clinging to her velvety outer lips. The only way I could have been happier in that moment was if my mother had unlocked my tiny little chastity cage and sucked my cock then and there.

The rest of Shandy’s breakfast was uneventful. I brought her to an orgasm with my mouth and she, as Caitlyn and my mother had earlier, filled my belly with more hot piss before dismissing me as she called her mother on Skype to share the good news. As I left the room I caught a glimpse of the video feed starting, revealing her voluptuous mother had adopted the trend of staying nude in the house – and that she had a handsome gentleman caller busy oiling his cock in the background. As much as I longed to remain and see what might be in store for me with my mother-in-law, I had other chores to attend to.

Still licking the last of the semen from my lips and throbbing painfully in my cage, I stepped into the old bedroom I had shared as a child with my brother. We turned it into an office a few years ago for our online ventures, and it was one of the few places in the house not completely devoted to our fetishistic and frankly depraved lifestyle. That isn’t to say it was entirely vanilla, though, as the fat dildo that jutted from the Herman Miller Embody office chair certainly wasn’t. It was an enlarged replica of the porn star Shane Diesel’s impressive cock, but after so much experience and so much anal play already today, I slipped down onto it without difficulty – and with a sigh of pleasure when it ground hard against my prostate on the way down.

Our lifestyle was remarkably expensive to maintain. While my father still worked as a prominent ad man – and surreptitiously worked to convert more and more families to our way of life with his work – and my brother had a junior position in his firm, their incomes were simply not enough to support the three women we called goddesses. Their tastes were exquisite and expensive, from the large quantities of food they ate to the clothes they wore and the dildos they shoved up our asses. To subsidize our lifestyle, we turned it into entertainment for the masses.

First there were the cameras, streaming live out to the world 24/7 from every room in the house. Nothing was off limits, including the office, and a quick check of the feed figures showed that I had three people watching me work. The number had risen to twenty when I impaled myself down on the dildo, but most of those viewers had now swapped back to the tantalizing show of Shandy masturbating furiously while watching her own plump mother suck a dick over Skype. They provided a small but steady income, as access was either by the minute or unlimited for a small monthly fee.

Next, there was our video store. It did remarkable trade on a day to day basis, with videos of our sexual exploits going out to the world. The combination of real life incest, cuckolding, and a true female-led household had sparked an unexpected frenzy in our audience, and it wasn’t uncommon to see thousands of dollars in pay-per-view sales daily. The membership packages were, of course, more popular and a more reliable income stream, but the tip jar was also a constant and surprising source of income. It certainly helped that my mother had a tendency to stare at the cameras from time to time and demand that the little-dicked cuckold losers watching pay up extra for the privilege while checking the figures on the phone, and reward the viewers with a blown kiss when they ticked upwards. So did the custom videos she made, personally belittling the fans who asked for them – or masturbating for the better endowed studs.

I spent the next hour or so managing the accounts and answering questions from fans, confirming things like our relationships are real – whenever someone asks if we’re really family, I show them copies of our birth certificates with a few minor alterations to prevent identity theft – and if the camera feeds really are live. It wasn’t exciting work, but chores rarely are. My father was cleaning the house, and the only thing making that interesting was that he was wearing a ball hobbler to force him to move slowly. My brother’s chore, at least, was slightly tantalizing, as he was sat in the garage, cleaning off the dildos used over the last week with his mouth (and then, to make sure they were actually clean, with a special cleaning mix) while watching last night’s footage again.

I edited that briefly – just a touch up, adding our watermark and cutting out some of the duller non-sexual moments – before uploading it for sale and for viewing, which took me another half hour. We rarely edit the videos much, as our audience don’t care and prefer the amateur look over the professional. With that done, I logged off and rose up from my seat, shuddering with pleasure as the dildo of Shane Diesel’s impressive black dick slid from my well-used asshole. It was the 27th, which marked a full month since our last opportunity to orgasm, and it was nearly three in the afternoon, the usual hour for the monthly reward.

A quick lunch followed for the three of us lowly cuckolds of fruit salad and sandwiches, washed down with water and a Viagra each. Mother likes us to strain in our cages at all times, and the little blue pill is one of her best friends. Not even the sharp spikes in my father’s cage could deter his pharmaceutically enhanced erection, and my own was painfully bulging the base of my crotch out as it met the closed end of my cage and found nowhere to go.

I was on prominent and painful display between the bars when Georgina, the aspiring filmmaker from next door, stepped into our house with her camera. She was our usual videographer for events like this, where the perversity demanded real camera skills and quality video for our viewers, and while she feigned a sense of aloofness and dressed professionally, I knew for a fact as the store admin that she was one of our regular subscribers and had recently purchased her own father a tight cage and her mother a copy of our guide to natural breast enhancement after they watched a sample of her work and decided to try the lifestyle for themselves.

“Miss Georgina,” I said, with a small bow of greeting. “Can I get you something to drink or eat? We don’t start for another fifteen minutes.”

“No, thank you.” For all the icy professionalism in her voice, her growing arousal at the thought of the show to follow showed in the prominence of her nipples through her fine white linen shirt, stiff little buds that capped small, jewel-like breasts. Her eyes lingered on our cages, and I caught them follow a droplet of precum that oozed from the hole in the cap of mine.

She dismissed any further attempt to offer services with a shake of her head and disappeared into the living room to set up her equipment, while us three lowly worms waited in the kitchen to be called. We trembled and shook with anticipation. My stomach was a deep and yawning chasm, impossibly deep, turning and roiling with intense nervous lust. Mother might offer anything – a simple and uncomplicated session of jerking off to a day-long endurance contest of cock milkings and forced orgasm torture. My anus twitched when I thought of her collection of strap-ons, and the possibility of being brutally pegged by her immense faux phallus, and my cock jumped with it.

At last, we were called in. I swallowed my nerves and – with small, submissive steps – entered the living room. It was a glorious sight, as ever. My beautiful mother sat naked in all her corpulent beauty, thick and pale, auburn hair spilling in long silky curls over her shoulders and down her immense, sagging breasts. Only Rapunzel’s hair would be long enough to provide modesty for such udders, and my mother’s came well short of her nipples, which pointed near to the floor and brushed her thick thighs when she leaned forward in her throne.

To her right was my sister, just as nude and almost as mouthwatering. Her freshly shaved pussy gleamed in the lighting Georgina had set up for the show, and she had oiled her body smooth, but as usual had chosen to shave nothing else. Fine hairs lined her legs and tufted under her armpits, and the rich smell of her body greeted our noses. Were we not caged, the combination of the two alone would have had us throbbing hard, as erect as we might ever get, aching with eager need to be of service to these two fat goddesses.

But they were not alone, and the sight of Shandy in a tightly laced black leather corset on my mother’s left, her breasts – for once, seeming small thanks to my mother’s enormous pendulous melons – sagging slightly down the front, unsupported by the garment. My heart skipped a beat, and I nearly fainted when she smiled at me and blew me a kiss, overcome with joy and desperate, frustrated arousal. Unbidden images of her fucking other men ran through my mind as I took my place kneeling in front of my mother, making me drool from mouth and cock alike.

“Well, boys, you get to choose this weekend since you’ve been good all month. You can either have your cummies in a faggot threeway or you can gasp for air under my ass while Caitlyn jerks you off and Shandy fucks your faggot ass with a nice big dildo. Which will it be?” My mother asked, smiling down at us while the fingers of one hand captured a thick, rubbery nipple and slowly rolled it back and forth. Much as my mother might prefer to keep us totally orgasm deprived, she enjoyed these games far too much for that.

Whenever this option was presented, my brother and my father’s pick was obvious. They craved the sense of control that came with a chance to penetrate an orifice, any orifice, and almost with perfect synchronization they both answered with a loud cry of ‘Faggot!’ All eyes expectantly turned to me, but just like theirs, my answer was predictable. As much as I had enjoyed the handful of times Shandy had let me fuck her with my sad, small, utterly inadequate excuse for a penis, it couldn’t compare to the feeling of her fucking me with her strap-on, or the taste of my own mother’s ass. My eagerness to submit to yet further humiliations and depravities each time orgasm was offered was no small part of why I was mommy’s favourite.

“Please, mommy, let me worship your ass while Caitlyn jerks my useless imposter of a real man’s cock off!” I cried, licking my lips and holding my hands in front of myself as if in prayer. Shandy’s giggle of amusement and power at my self-abasement made my heart flutter in my chest

“Well, I guess it’s still a faggot threeway for your father and brother, Billy, but you’re staying in the cage until they’re done.” My mother’s smile had grown into a lewd grin, baring perfect white teeth and wrinkling the corners of her eyes. I could all but smell the growing moistness of her pussy as she spoke, the fragrant and heady scent of her divine cunt, and my mouth watered at the thought. It was all I could do to obediently nod and lean back on my knees, resting my weight against my heels.

Neither my father nor my brother were ever permitted to unlock their own cages, and so they rose up from their own kneeling positions to stand before my mother, who as usual delighted in fondling their captive genitals. She was not gentle, and my father hissed as she squeezed his balls hard before she deigned to bring key to lock. His sounds of pain only grew when it was time to remove his cage. Other men might have been soft, but thanks to the Viagra he remained terribly erect the entire time, the punishment pins of the steel cage dragging deep lines into his flesh as the cage was slowly wiggled off. But when he was free, he all but cried with joy, involuntarily humping the air, cock filling out to its full length, a measly three and a half inches.

To look at it, it was a wonder he’d even managed to penetrate mother’s fat pussy with it to produce me and my brother, as her weight had given her an exquisitely thick pubic mound – and though twenty years of constant chastity had shrunk his penis, he was never much larger. I had little time to consider though as my father quickly rounded on me, stepping over and without ceremony shoving his pathetic cock between my lips, driving it against my tongue. It was too short to reach the back of my throat, and so I was in no danger of gagging as he almost frantically pumped against my face, gripping my short brown hair for purchase. It was only half-erect in my mouth, at full length but rubbery, rendered not only shorter over the years but incapable of sustaining a true hard-on, and it wobbled and flexed on every desperate pump.

I could try and say that the ache of my balls from the chastity cage being forced forward by my own puny excuse for an erection was nothing more than the Viagra or excitement from my mother’s nudity. But I would be lying. The taste of my own father’s cock, meaty and salty, was exhilarating in its sheer depravity. It could never compare to the taste of mother, Caitlyn, or my girlfriend, but the taboo gave it its own spice. Not only was I sucking cock, my tongue swirling around the old scars from his circumcision, but it was my own father’s. They weren’t just any balls in my hand, but the ones that once held the seed of my existence, planted in the divine soil of my goddess mother’s womb. And knowing that she was watching only made me shudder and quake with desperate arousal all the more.

With my father blocking my view, his perfectly smooth crotch slapping against my nose, the scent of his day long arousal hot in each nostril, I was taken by surprise when my brother came behind me. Without ceremony, Julian grabbed my hips and pulled them up until I slipped forward onto all fours, and with even less, he drove his throbbing erection into my sloppy, well-used asshole. Taking him was easy, as though he possessed the biggest cock among us (only a hair below average, even), he was nothing at all compared to the enormous black dildos we daily debased ourselves with. It was not unpleasant, but with his small size, Julian was incapable of providing real pleasure to anyone, including me. I still took a perverse thrill in the act, and precum oozed in long strings through the end of the hollow plug running down through my urethra to the base of my imprisoned penis, flicking back and forth onto the hardwood floor with every eager, clumsy thrust into my puffy asshole.

We rutted like beasts for the amusement of our goddesses. Out of the corner of my eye, I was thrilled to see Shandy openly masturbating as she watched me be used as a glorified sex doll by my father and my brother, and over the rough slapping sounds of hips meeting my ass cheeks, I could hear my mother’s soft sighs of pleasure as she masturbated, burying her fingers into her soaking snatch. The performance did not last long before my father, always oversensitive, shuddered and groaned and came against my rough tongue, painting it and the roof of my mouth with a load of thin, watery semen mixed with clumps of jelly-like consistency and bitter taste.

Without thought, I swallowed, and as he pulled away, I opened my mouth wide with my tongue out to show my three goddesses that it was empty, even while I rocked back and forth on my knees with the speed of Julian’s thrusts. He lasted longer, in part because I made little effort to tighten my loose sphincter around his cock, but he came quickly as well, his thicker cum spurting in sticky ropes into my empty rectum, coating my insides before he pulled out, leaving my only slightly sorer than before.

Their recaging was an amusement, as it always was. Other women favoured ice for their cuckolds when too stiff to cage, but my mother preferred crueler ways that made my belly ache in sympathy and my cock twitch in arousal, betraying me with its desire for the same treatment, for the feel of her silky hands on me in any way. She seized both my father and my brother’s nuts in a hand each – easy to do, for their inadequate size – and squeezed hard, twisted, released only to smack hard as they whimpered, whined, and groaned as stubborn erections but slowly abated. When at last they did, they were quickly forced back into their cages and the locks snapped shut – something my cage did not permit, needing more careful treatment. Another mark of status!

But then at last, as the lock clinked shut for Julian, it was my turn and I stood, trembling with anticipation and fervent need, semen creeping from my freshly used ass and lingering on my breath. Father was dispatched with a word to bring one of our less regularly used pieces of furniture out from the storage room while I stood there naked and on display like meat, savouring the experience, the strange humiliation of it that was potentiated, enhanced by the proximity of the experience to my own orgasm. He returned in short order with the desired piece, a converted gynecologist’s chair with saddle-style stirrups attached to a flattened bench, and needing no order I mounted it. He locked my ankles into the cuffs of the regular raised stirrups, leaving my ass open and vulnerable for use and abuse, and I trembled all the more, skin in goosebumps.

Mother took her place next. It was an intense experience simply to see her stand from her throne, naked and glorious, her huge breasts hanging nearly to her bellybutton, her soft belly dimpled where its underside met her hips for her sheer size, her thick thighs and the extra ridge of fat that gave her the appearance of such luscious hips. To have her slowly walk to me, her breasts swaying from side to side, the sound of her thighs brushing together, was an exquisite torture all its own. And then she took full use of the modified chair-cum-bench, lowering it to so that my face was just slightly above the height of her pussy, my eyes level with her enormous, flawless white ass, dimpled with cellulite and small blemishes that served only to emphasize its size and beauty. The additional stirrups served vital purpose, taking her weight and redistributing it into a shared point of balance when she stepped into them – and more importantly than that small concession to safety, placing me in the perfect spot and level to worship her cunt and her asshole.

I was quickly robbed of sight when she lowered her weight onto my face, letting nearly all of it push down on me and force my head down onto the padded bench. I was in paradise there, her enormous ass cheeks splayed to either side of my face, the cleft between them large enough to accommodate much of my face. My mother’s ass became, with that one mouth-watering movement, my entire world, and I eagerly set to worshipping it for the second time that day. I lavished what I could reach with kisses, nuzzled it (with some difficulty, for the sheer weight pressing down onto me made it hard to move), and then extended my tongue to lovingly bathe, caress, and stroke against her cheeks and against her puffy hole. Her taste was musky on my tongue, enticing, flavoured by the day and by sweat, and my cock throbbed harder still in its cage.

It was then, as I eagerly ran the tip of my tongue in small circles against the inside rim of my mother’s asshole, that I felt hands on my thighs, sliding slowly up to my cage, squeezing my balls firmly where they sat taut and purple, trapped cruelly between the base ring and the ring of the cage itself. My squeal upwards amused my mother, and though her body muffled my hearing, I could both hear and feel her laughter in a deep rumbling through her fleshy form. I did not hear the clink of my lock being undone, but I felt the sudden easing of pressure at the bulging base of my member when the integrated lock turned and my member began to grow outwards, quickly swelling in response to the situation, to the exquisite taste, scent, and feel of my mother’s ass, to my vulnerability.

It didn’t travel far at all. Even as I swelled to erection, over half my sad excuse for a cock remained trapped in metal until Caitlyn began to slowly pull it free. Pain and pleasure in equal measure surged through my body as she did, as fingers hooked around the enclosed cap and began to tug. The urethral insert buried in my meat was well-lubricated by my own precum, but there is no more intense a sensation than a piece of metal being pulled from your cock after a month inside, and I freely cried and whimpered and moaned into mother’s ass, loud enough that I had no doubt everyone could hear me. It was almost orgasmic on its own, and more than once I had in fact shot my load in the process of the cage being withdrawn.

This time, I managed to hold on, barely, and panted for what little fresh air I could suck into the space between my face and my mother’s corpulent buttocks as it slipped free with a slick sound and my uncut cock finally stood free in the air. I was still able to hold a proper erection through fortune despite having worn one cage or another for most of the last five years, but it’s small size attracted nothing but laughter from my mother and Shandy, and a cruel smack from Caitlyn that made me yelp as my member smacked down hard on my belly. As usual, she made no move to remove my base ring – there was no point, and in times like these it served a role as a loose cock ring.

My one regret was that I could not see Shandy approach, though I knew her touch on my thighs from the length of her nails and… Well, as silly as it may be, from the way my heart beat faster just at the press of soft fingertips to my body. Love does strange things to a man, and even if she didn’t wear her nails shorter than my sister, I’d know which of them was touching me because of it alone. It would have been heaven to see her come to fuck me, to see her in her strap-on approaching, fisting lube over her faux phallus, but I made do with further worship of mother’s ass as she ground her oversized behind down hard onto my face, irritated by my distraction. I could not see it, but I knew from experience she would be playing with her nipples, tugging them, milking them, and sweet beads of pearly white milk would already be rising to the bumpy surface to drip from her fat udders. If they were lucky, my brother and my father might be permitted to kneel there and try and catch them with their mouths.

I knew what toy Shandy had picked out when she slapped it down against my belly. It thudded down hard onto me, but the base hit before the fist-sized crown, crushing down against my cock and forcing it back against my belly. It was a favourite of hers, and well familiar to me from her use. A lovely shade of deep gray, it was made of a flexible rubber that, though far from limp, simply was not rigid enough to keep two solid feet fully erect and proud. At that size, though, some flex was vital to deep penetration. It was exhilarating to picture it sliding deep inside me, rearranging my insides, pushing past the curve of my rectum and into my intestines, just as it was humiliating (and exquisitely so) when she again picked it up and smacked it down against my pathetic cock. Moments like these, my face buried in Mother’s lush butt, my cock free, and my anus twitching in anticipation of a deep fuck, were more exciting than any normal sex I had ever had.

Mother abruptly rose from my face and dismounted the bench, leaving me to blink owlishly, suddenly returned to light and fresh air, redfaced from lack of oxygen and humiliation. Once again the sight of her above me filled me with lusts, but I took the opportunity to look down, and the sight of Shandy there between my legs, exquisite in her corset, her full and fat breasts spilling over its edge, her enormous black dick in hand, nearly made me cum then and there. But again, I managed to hold – if I didn’t make it until she was inside me, they would almost certainly stop then and there, and I could think of nothing worse!

Mother returned, facing the other way to enjoy the show. When she sat again, her pussy was directly above my mouth, her weight once more completely on my head, and I dutifully began to lick, once again robbed of sight. She chose the moment of her return well, as there was sudden pain, aching and raw, as Shandy began to invade my anus. Well-trained as it was, a cock of this size was still painful, and I momentarily abandoned my licking to whimper as she forced the fat crown past my sphincter. It was no easier then, as people might have you believe, but there was at least a slow easing of the painfulness of each inch that slowly pushed into me, and I was able to resume running my tongue against my mother’s dark labia, circling up to her clitoris to make her shudder and quake atop me.

Each inch was a slow effort, and one I worked to accommodate. I was no passive partner in my fiancee’s abuse of my rectum as I had been for my brother, and though the bench kept me from pushing back to meet her forceful pushes in, I was still able to assist. I beared down whenever she sought deeper access, consciously relaxing my hole at the same time, using biology to assist in this most unnatural and perverse act. I could not tell you how long I was there – perhaps a minute, perhaps ten – struggling to accommodate her, but finally she met a wall at a foot and a half of dick, my belly lightly bulging out, my well-trained body at its limit. Only my father could take deeper, and that with years of practice.

That was when Caitlyn’s oily hand slid down around my cock and began to stroke, smooth and slow. The pain eased then, driven away by pleasure, mingling into it to become less distinct. I gasped and moaned as I lapped and nuzzled and kissed at the source of my existence, the divine vessel from which I emerged, the hairy cunt that stole my breath and so regularly demanded my attentions. I lasted only a few pumps of the hand, too excited, orgasm delayed too long for stamina, and when I came I cried, rippling waves of pleasure surging from the crown of my cock through my body, making me tingle all over as my semen spurted and oozed out onto my belly. If she had had her way, Caitlyn would have edged me, ruined me, but she stroked too long. Small comfort for her that I did not immediately start to soften.

No, the sensation of the huge cock in my ass slowly grinding in and out as I came, my muscles spasming rhythmically around it as they sought to drive my cum from my body, was too intensely pleasurable for that even if I wasn’t on Viagra. I stayed painfully erect while Shaundy began to fuck me, as hard as she could with her size and the depth of her penetration. I ached and whimpered and sucked on one of my mother’s lips as she drove in as deep as she could and pulled back slowly, dragging my overstretched hole along with her rubber cock. Each stroke in saw my cock jolt and throb, and shortly Caitlyn found new amusement. Each time it jolted and jumped from a muscle involuntarily spasming, she smacked it hard enough to make me yelp, hypersensitive from orgasm as I was.

I was in paradise there, fucked into oblivion with speed, threatening to cum again simply from the depth and force of my fiancee’s thrusts into my greedy, whorish ass. Each slap took me closer and a step further away at the same time, and seeing more precum run and drool down the sides of my worm, my sister quickly added my balls to the lists, smacking them hard, squeezing, twisting. My cock betrayed me, refused to soften and shrivel as she desired, and each slap made my stomach turn with delirious pain and pleasure. Mother grabbed me by the hair, angered by my inattentiveness as my lower half was exploited, and punished me by pushing down hard enough to cut off my air.

Each stroke then was heightened. I could feel every tiny fraction of an inch of the fat black dildo driving into my ass, sense the love and cruel lust behind each stroke. When each hit my prostate as I struggled to please my mother, fresh rivers of precum oozed from my tip and flowed from my cock as if a waterfall. My tongue moved ceaselessly against the velvety, sagging flaps of the pussy that had given me life twice-over (in my birth first, and in the first time I was permitted to worship it, to taste it and the semen that still clung to its lips; then was I reborn my mother’s cuckold slave-son), but Mother did not relent. She ground hard on my face, kept me gasping for what tiny breaths I could take as my lungs began to burn with desperate need. Caitlyn likewise showed no mercy, and each slap was now a blinding wall of pain and pleasure that mingled inside my body.

My last memory of that show is of a final ejaculation, more forceful than the last, splashing against my own chest – and the sound of shock from my mother as some landed on her belly. I knew, even darkness swam before my eyes and I felt my body turn to mere mist, that I would be punished for the insolence of that later. And then I was gone, lost into the sweet wonder of unconsciousness, Mother’s cruel use of my face depriving me of air long enough that I fainted away.


Living under the thumb of three cruel, beautiful goddesses brings with it a great many rules. Some have flexibility – rules about domestic chores, about exactly how the toys should be arranged, that sort of thing. Others are rigid, not to be broken or upset. And I’d upset one of the most rigid: I had ejaculated on my own mother without her permission, something we were absolutely never to do. Her body was reserved for the cocks and cum of superior men with superior dicks, not our sad excuses for little penises, but I had nonetheless sprayed my weak, watery jizz against her fat belly as she smothered me beneath her enormous, divine ass.

It was that act of insolent disobedience that saw me to my current predicament. Mother, when she so desires, can be so very cruel that it beggars belief – and draws plenty of views to our constant live cameras. The thought of the numbers ticking upwards was a small solace as my calves began to shriek at me again. It was a simple punishment, but an effective one – I was left to stand in the garage with my heels over a simple pressure switch connected to a car battery. That car battery was, in turn, hooked up to the urethral insert of my tight chastity cage. Any time my weight rested even slightly on my heels and not the balls of my feet, the on switch toggled and a powerful electric shock ran straight through my offending organ.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on as well as make me suffer. Every torment, every degradation, every outrage and abuse against me by my Mother or my beloved fiancée only ever served to heighten my sense of submission, my sense that this life was not only exhilarating, it was right. That not only could they punish me, but they should. And the viewers on the website agreed. Our way of life was slowly spreading, with divine women across the world taking control of their adult sons, husbands, and fathers – taking their dicks in hand, locking them away, and fucking better men in front of them.

It helped to take my mind off my predicament – off the screaming ache in my calves, the trickle of sweat from trying to maintain the posture, the lingering burning ache in my pathetic little boy penis – to think of them. Our website is the only one that offers the full, twenty-four seven experience of a true female led lifestyle, but there are others who dabble. One of our sister sites was a forum full of user generated content from across the world. African booty-queens keeping their men in check with painfully tight cages and circumcision. Japanese mamas making their thirty-year old sons bathe them while keeping them denied orgasms with drugs and monitoring. Celebrity mothers posting photos with their faces cropped out of them pegging their successful husbands or using their sons as urinals.

One particular poster always stood out, always with new content whenever I checked – a strict German woman named Anna, a lesbian with enormous heaving breasts, and her twenty-year old son, who was never allowed an erection, let alone an orgasm, and whose cage was welded shut. The sole extent of his sex life was to serve as her full toilet and a whipping toy, as she had exactly no sexual interest in men, though from time to time she did permit her partners to anally abuse him with fists and toys. The very thought of permitting him anywhere near her cunt was enough to make Anna laugh.

That frightful thought – a life totally deprived not only of orgasms, but of the sexual pleasure of eating my mother’s pussy – sent a shiver through my body, and with that small tremor, already shaking muscles gave. Suddenly my heels were on the floor, and even as the muscles all but sighed in relief, I was screaming into my ball gag as the electrical current ran through my penis again. Long moments of agony stretched into an eternity before I managed to force my feet back up, gritting my teeth, gleaming with sweat and aching all over.

Oh yes. My mother can be so wonderfully, awfully cruel.


My punishment lasted until I finally collapsed and couldn’t rise again, when I was sent to bed without supper. That wasn’t a particular punishment compared to what came with it – I had to lie there awake, deprived of the opportunity to serve any of our three Goddesses during the evening. Ordinarily, dinner was a small meal for me, eaten late after spending most of the night beneath one, two, or all three of their asses or standing by the bed while they entertained men and women, handing lube, fluffing, or cleaning as needed. Missing that was a far greater punishment than being sent to bed without my supper!

I only learned how much greater the next morning when our usual ritual repeated itself, and I sunk my abused asshole down onto the large black dildo mounted to the bench in front of the television. There was no preamble to the video this time – it cut straight to the action. It was footage from the fixed cameras in Shandy’s bedroom, multiple angles of her greedily sucking the cock of one of our house guests for the evening all displayed at once in a grid. I didn’t need to see his face to recognize him, as he possessed a truly enormous and very black cock – the sort of dick that spawns legends, one of those one-in-a-million freaks of nature. Alex was one of Shandy’s favourites, not only for his immense penis (it was easily as thick as my wrist and frighteningly long even by my standards) but for his sense of humour, his charm, his intelligence and his incredible perversity.

The sight of it writ large on the glowing plasma screen made me moan and rock my hips against the large dildo in my asshole. The gaping pit in my stomach grew deeper, wider, a great chasm of intense jealousy, anxiety, and with it, a peculiar and desperate arousal. Drool ran down my chin around my ball gag. Knowing that she was attached to Alex, that there was emotion as well as raw physicality, made the sweet pain of her cuckolding me run so much deeper. It curled around my brain, suffocating reason, and tingled in my aching penis, buzzed in my prostate, surged to my toes and my fingertips.

It was a struggle not to orgasm on the pole, a rare struggle. Hearing my beloved fiancée beg Alex to knock her up with a mulatto baby while watching him pound down into a velvety pussy I hadn’t fucked in eight months filled me with such exquisite, painful need and love for her that my penis strained against the bars so hard that the base ring crushed hard against my testicles. She did things for him on that tape that I could never hope to have her do to me even if I weren’t her cuckold, things that made me melt and made her all the more beautiful in my eyes.

Most men, I admit, would not love their fiancees more when seeing them drenched in another man’s semen and urine. But I’m not really a man. I’m a slave, a cuckold, a boy. The proof is that I did, that I wanted to marry her more than ever. To stand beside her at the altar while her belly swelled with another man’s child, and beg for the privilege of having her fuck me in the ass with a strap-on for my wedding night – I wanted nothing more in that moment.

I was pulled away from my near-orgasmic reverie by a loud laugh as Alex, who always rose early, strutted into the living room with a bowl of cereal in one hand. He was naked, as he usually was – he had no need to conceal his body in the house, and it was a thing of beauty. He was strong, but not bulky, with fine proportions and supple dark skin like patent leather – and of course, between his powerful thighs there hung a cock that had fucked all three of the women in my life many times, thick and fat even when flaccid. It made my mouth water through my gag to see it, because in truth, it had fucked me as well more than once to a shameful orgasm through my cage. Alex was not only a perverse degenerate, but a fluid pansexual who saw holes instead of gender, and felt just as at home plowing a chastised sissy as he did a woman or a real man.

“Well would you look at you three, huh? You enjoying my work last night? Don’t answer that. Not that you can.” He laughed again, picking me out for the special torment of standing in front of me, slapping my face with his hefty penis over and over as he spoke, bouncing it on my nose, wobbling it against my forehead. The scent of Shandy was still on him. “When you’re done watching this little video, bitch boy, you can clean me up and then go lick my jizz and my piss off your girl. I hear you’re getting married, and I just want to say, I’m happy for you. Really, Billy, I am. You and Shandy are a lovely couple, at least when she’s not begging me for a baby.”

It was degrading and exciting all at once, having him taunt me. He meant his words – as I said, Alex was a friendly and quite pleasant man beneath his extraordinary tastes – but that gave them no less sting, and did nothing to soften the heavy thuds of a flaccid cock that easily twice the size of my own (at full mast, no less!) against my face, or the way precum beaded at his tip to smear over my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell Julian and my father were relieved not to be the focus of his attention. They still deluded themselves with the idea of being straight, as if slaves could have orientations, as if they hadn’t eagerly used my holes just the day before. I harboured no such delusions – not that my body would let me. Not with how I nearly had what my mother so happily called a ‘sissygasm’ then and there from being in the presence of a real man, a real man with a real dick beating down on me while a huge toy stretched my boyhole wide.

Even if I hadn’t been caged, there wouldn’t have been a contest between my cock and his. The way his beat down, thudding on my face, slapping my cheeks – it was powerful, awe-inspiring. Mine was a pathetic little worm next to it, pale and scrawny, a stick of chalk before an obsidian obelisk. I couldn’t hear the rest of his words for the blood rushing in my ears, the pounding of my heart in my chest so loud I could hear and feel it both. Alex finished with a final heavy slap of his limp dick across my cheeks, smearing precum over them, before he moved away to the kitchen island counter to sit, eat, and take in the morning paper, leaving me to my degradation, my shame, my burning need and lust – and to the video of him taking my fiancée, bringing her off, making her scream and squirm and squirt in ways I could never, ever hope to.

There is a very fine line between pleasure and pain, between heaven and hell. For me, the line has all but evaporated, spreading like mist. Watching Alex finish in and on Shandy, his jizz glistening like pearls on her heaving breasts, oozing out of her pussy in sticky strings, it was impossible to decide on which side I lay. But one thing is for certain. The throbbing in my cage wasn’t just from the Viagra.


The End.


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