“The 12-Step Cuckold Program”
by c.w. cobblestone
The tweed-jacketed nerd smoothed his comb-over and smiled at the six geeks whose chairs were arranged in a semicircle in the YMCA basement.
“Hello, everyone. My name is Bob, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Bob,” the group replied.
Bob picked his ear with his baby finger. “Um, thank you all for coming to the first of what I hope will be many cuckold group therapy sessions. I trust you all read my book, ‘Rules for Cuckolds’ when you signed up for the program?”
Everyone nodded.
“Great. So, as I said, I’m Bob, and I’ll be your moderator today, but I’m also one of you. My wife has a lover who has lived with us for many years, and, yes, I wear a chastity device. My wife’s boyfriend, Ron, is upstairs playing basketball right now; our meeting will last as long as his game does because he’s my ride. So, when he’s ready to go, we’ll have to split. His games usually last a good hour and a half at least, though, so we should have plenty of time. As you can see, I’m a cuckold like the rest of you … but I’m hoping today I can serve more as a facilitator, to sort of guide the discussion along. This isn’t about me; this is your time to try to work things out, and I’m just here to help. And sometimes, we do need help — this lifestyle of ours isn’t easy, is it?”
Every head shook as Bob continued. “I think the best way to do this would be to go around the circle, and each one of you can tell us a little something about yourself, and your situation at home. I’ll start: As I said, my wife’s lover Ron lives with us and has for quite some time. He moved in about 10 years ago after Debra met him at a party and they fell in love. I haven’t had sex since, and I’ve been in chastity for the past 9 years. I only get released 2-3 times a year, although I’ve gone a whole year without a release, depending on how badly I’m being punished. Ron is the absolute master of our house, and as far as Debra is concerned he can do no wrong.” Bob lowered his voice and glanced at the stairs. “He’s kind of a bully, and he can be cruel. It’s tough for me sometimes, but I’ve learned to live with it. I mean, as cucks, that’s all we can do — learn to live with it. Right?” Bob nodded at the fellow to his right. “Okay, would you like to go next?”
“Uh, sure. Hi, my name’s Marco and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Marco,” the men droned in unison.
“Um, hi. So … my wife doesn’t have a steady boyfriend like yours — she has a lot of boyfriends.” Marco shifted in his chair. “She’ll usually sleep with a guy once or twice and then move on to the next one. Carmen loves the party lifestyle, and I make enough money to support all the expensive bars and restaurants, so she’s hardly ever home. Every night just about, she goes to the club, or she’s out somewhere partying, either with her girlfriends or some guy.”
Bob stroked his chin. “I imagine that must get pretty lonely for you, sitting at home while she’s out all the time.”
“Well, yeah, it does. Unless she brings guys back; then I have to leave.”
“Ugh. I’ve been there.” Bob chuckled. “When Debra first started bringing Ron back to the house years ago, I racked up some hefty hotel bills. Eventually, though, when things got more permanent, and we had ‘the talk,’ they had me stay and serve them. He started bringing his laundry over, and having me wash his car, and that’s how it all kinda got started. But I guess it’s tough to get any routine going when your wife doesn’t keep her lovers for long, huh?”
“Um, yeah, kind of.” Marco’s lips tightened. “And, when she brings someone home, uh, I don’t go to hotels. I … she makes me sleep in the car.”
“OMG, me too,” a thin man piped in. “It doesn’t matter how cold it is, either — in fact, Caitlyn thinks it’s funny that I’m out there freezing while she’s nice and warm inside with some guy, so I’m not even allowed to turn the car on to get heat.”
Marco shook his head. “They’re so mean to us. Why do we put up with it?”
“Because we love them,” a pudgy guy replied. Everyone nodded.
“Because we’re fucking wimps,” a redhead added, and there were nervous laughs all ‘round.
When the mirth faded, Bob pointed to the man sitting next to Marco, the youngest member of the group. “Okay, sir, would you care to go next?”
“Um, hello. I’m Carlton and … I’m a … I’m a …” He started weeping.
“It’s okay.” Bob walked over to the sobbing man and rubbed his shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
Carlton wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened up in his chair. “No, no, I’m fine. I came here to do this, and I’m going through with it. Hello, everyone — my name is Carlton and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Carlton.”
“I love my wife with all my heart.” Carlton set his jaw. “But she loves another man. There’s nothing I can do about it. That’s just how it is. She … she’s crazy about him.”
Bob patted Carlton’s back. “It sounds like you’re a recent cuck. Am I right?”
“Um, yeah. I found out three weeks ago. I was supposed to fly to Boston for a conference but my boss called before I got to the airport and told me it was canceled. When I got back home, I could hear Angie screaming in the bedroom. I wanted to run in there and stop them, but … well, I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I was too much of a fucking coward. So, I just sat there on the couch crying. Like a little bitch. And then, when she finally comes out of the bedroom and sees me sitting there, she starts screaming at ME! Like I’d done something wrong when she was the one fucking another man in our bed! She’s standing there bitching me out, while this asshole I’ve never seen before is standing naked in the doorway cracking up … and he’s got this huge dick that keeps flopping around every time he laughs. And then … then Angie tells me she’s not going to stop seeing this Terrance guy, that they were in love, and that I could either put up with it or get a divorce. And I … I …”
“You put up with it,” the pudgy guy cut in. “We all do.”
“I hate it, man.” Carlton wiped his eyes. “I fucking HATE it.”
The chubby man sighed. “We all do. But just hang in there, man. It’ll get easier. I can’t say it’ll get any better, but it does get easier. To deal with, I mean.”
Bob gestured toward the portly participant. “You’re exactly right. We’ve all got to hang in there. Since you’re next anyway, why don’t you go ahead and introduce yourself to everyone?”
“Thanks. Hello, you guys, my name is Chester, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Chester.”
“Um … well, let’s see. Amy and Jamal have been together for six years now, and she’s pregnant with his third child. They already have two boys, so they’re hoping for a girl, although they want to keep the gender a surprise as they did with the other two. I’m praying for a girl because it would have to be better than what Jamal Jr. and Jaydon are putting me through.”
“Ugh, I know the feeling,” the redheaded guy said. “How old are yours?”
“Junior’s 3 and Jaydon’s 2.” Chester shook his head. “They get into everything, and I can’t do anything to stop them. I can ask nicely, try to reason with them—”
“Yeah, but what 3-year-old listens to reason?” The redhead twiddled his thumbs. “I get it, man. We’ve got no authority over them whatsoever — and they know it.”
Chester nodded and sighed. “I got the shit beat out of me the other day because Jamal heard me tell Junior not to stick a fork into the damn electric outlet. The little prick was about to stick it right in the socket, and all I said was, ‘You can’t do that or you’ll hurt yourself.’ But my master said it was too forceful, so I got 50 with the cane. He says if something like that happens from now on, I need to tell him, and he’ll explain things to his son.”
“I feel you, bro.” The redhead shuddered. “I was put on a starvation diet for three days because my master didn’t like the way I moved his youngest son away from the spot where I was trying to vacuum. I only nudged the little bastard out of the way, but Tom saw it and I was on water and vitamins for the next three days.”
“Ugh, starvation diets are the worst,” the thin guy said. “I just got off one yesterday. Still got a headache from it.”
“Oh, those headaches!” The redhead rolled his eyes. “I doubt our masters even know that’s one of the things we have to deal with when they put us on starvation diets like that — those horrible headaches from not eating.”
“My mistress wouldn’t care,” the skinny fellow said. “If Caitlyn knew I got headaches when she put me on starvation, she’d think it was funny.”
A dark-haired man scoffed. “Yeah, you wanna talk about a starvation diet headache? Try cleaning an entire office building with no sleep for three days after you’ve had nothing but water and vitamins for a whole week. My master owns a cleaning service and I spent the whole weekend nonstop cleaning a 120-unit complex all by myself after I hadn’t eaten all week. I had to work through the night both Friday and Saturday and until 4 am Monday. With no sleep since waking up Friday morning, and have not had a fucking bite to eat. Plus, I had to keep taking caffeine pills, and my head was pounding. So, don’t tell me about having a damn starvation diet headache!”
“Now, now, we’re not here to compare,” Bob cautioned. “We all have it hard in our ways or we wouldn’t be here. My masters don’t even use starvation diets on me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get punished.” He glanced at the stairs again. “Ron made me crawl inside a Port-A-Potty toilet and kneel there for about an hour during a party he and Debra threw for their kinky friends because there was a fly in the punchbowl. It wasn’t even my fault, but they were embarrassed, so Ron told me I needed to be embarrassed, too. It was no picnic, believe me. So, we all get punished in our ways, and we all have it bad … okay?”
The dark-haired guy held up his hand. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to compare my situation with anyone else’s. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I was just saying how bad that headache was after a whole week of not eating, and no sleep for three days. I got a little emotional about it, sorry.”
The skinny cuck frowned. “Jeez, what’d you do to get a whole week on starvation, bro?”
“Um, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Now, remember: nothing should be embarrassing in here,” Bob said. “We’re all in the same boat. Tell us what got you a week of starvation. It’s okay.”
“Well … okay, James caught me sniffing Jenny’s panties. I got 100 with the strap and a week on starvation. That weekend, I had to clean the whole complex by myself, and it was a bitch after not having anything to eat for six days. By Monday morning, I was ready to drop — but I got it all done!”
Bob smiled. “That’s great. See? We should pride ourselves on a job well done when we overcome challenges and accomplish things like that. I mean, as I say in the book, cuckolds should never be prideful, of course — because what’s there to be prideful about when you’re not man enough to satisfy your wife, right?”
The group chuckled and shifted in their seats as one.
“But I do think it’s okay to pat ourselves on the back once in a while.” Bob turned to the redhead. “Okay, you’re next. Maybe you can tell us something you’ve done recently to be proud. First, please introduce yourself to the group.”
“Hi, I’m Monte, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Monte.”
Bob cocked his head. “Monte, can you think of anything you’ve done recently, maybe something you’ve done to serve your masters where you went above and beyond, that you’re particularly proud of?”
“Well … um, I don’t know if this counts, but Jan and her boyfriend Tom have five kids together — three in diapers — so as you can imagine, I don’t get much downtime. The other day when I was changing the twins, Jan tells me she doesn’t know what she’d do without me, and she praised me for juggling so much. Her exact words were, ‘You work so hard. You’re the best slave a girl could ever ask for.’ So, it’s not something I did, per se, but I’m still kinda proud of it. I mean, for HER to say something like that is amazing. I’ll always remember that moment, and cherish it.”
“Well, of course, that counts,” Bob said. “You earned that praise from your mistress through years of hard work and serving her and her ******. It sounds like she doesn’t praise you very often?”
“Oh, Gawd, no. Usually, all she does is yell at me.”
“Ugh, tell me about it.” The skinny guy chuckled. “Caitlyn wakes up yelling at me.”
Bob nodded at the thin man. “Okay, you’re next up, can you please introduce yourself to the group?”
“Um, hi, I’m Lew, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Lew.”
“I’ve known Caitlyn since we were both babies; our moms were friends and we grew up across the street from each other. I always had a crush on her, and she was always mean to me. From as far back as I can remember. Our moms used to laugh about how as toddlers, she’d hit me for no reason and I’d run away crying, but I’d always come back and apologize, usually by picking a dandelion or sneaking her my dessert from dinner. But that would only make her meaner.”
Bob scratched his ear with his pen. “So, how did you end up marrying her?”
“Well, when we got older, she dated other guys, of course, because she’s beautiful. I never went on dates, but I’d sit at my window and watch guys pick her up, and then wait there until they’d drop her off. A lot of times, they’d stay parked, and I’d spy on them. Anyway, I went off to college, and she kind of hung around town doing nothing, living at home and partying. I ended up getting a good engineering job and she told me she needed security after her ma died, so at the funeral, she just kinda told me we were getting married. I was over the moon, even though there was nothing romantic about it; we went down to the county building and signed the paperwork, and that was it.”
“Does Caitlyn have a steady boyfriend?” Bob asked.
“No, not right now, thank goodness. I’m always afraid when she sees a guy more than three or four times that maybe this will be the one who steals her away from me.”
“Tell me about it,” Marco said. “That’s all I think about, bro. If Carmen does ever find somebody, and if he’s not comfortable with me … shit, she’ll throw me out in a minute, and just take my money in a divorce.”
Carlton, the neophyte cuck who’d been sitting quietly with his shoulders slumped since making his tearful introduction, cleared his throat. “So, what do you guys do to keep that from happening? You know … from keeping the boyfriend from stealing her away? Angie’s completely in love with this guy. She’d move to Antarctica with him if he wanted, so she’d dump me without even thinking about it.”
“Well, you’re in the early stages,” Bob said. “My best advice to you is, show your wife’s boyfriend … what was his name again?”
“Um … Terrance.”
“Okay, Carlton, my advice is to you to show Terrance up front that you aren’t going to be a problem, and that he has no reason to want to steal her from you in the first place. Have you talked to him about any of this yet since you caught them in the bedroom?”
“No, I stay in the basement whenever he comes over.”
“Well, you need to talk to him,” Bob said. “Address the issue head-on. Tell him that you understand that your wife prefers him, but explain that you can be useful to both of them. Think of ways you can make his life easier; come up with a list before you approach him, and read off all the things you plan to do to facilitate his affair with your wife, if only he’ll allow you to stay in her life. Tell him you’d be happy to wash his clothes, clean his apartment, run errands — whatever he needs. Cut the issue off at the pass, before he starts thinking about taking her away from you — let him know he already has her, and that there are a lot of benefits to keeping you around.”
“He’s right — you gotta show your belly,” the dark-haired man said. “I got down on my knees when I had ‘the talk’ with my master.”
Carlton rubbed his temples. “S-seriously? I’ve even got to get on my damn knees? And kiss this guy’s ass, wash his car, and shit? The guy who’s fucking my wife??? What the fuck?”
Bob clucked. “Look, Carlton, I don’t want to be harsh, but you need to stop thinking of yourself as a man. You do. I know it’s hard, and in fact, this stage may be the hardest part. The acceptance. The giving in. Realizing that the only way to keep your wife in your life is to throw yourself at their mercy and beg for any little crumbs they decide to throw you. Yes, kiss his ass, and do whatever you can to make yourself useful to him, so he wants to stay around. Because you know damn well — she’ll go wherever he goes.”
“What a fucking nightmare.” Carl huffed.
“No, it’s real,” the dark-haired man said. “The only question is whether you want to face reality, bro. Sounds like the reality is, your wife is in love with this guy. Do you want to keep her in your life, or do you want her running off with him? And you’ll still have to pay for it with alimony, anyway?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course, I want her in my life. I love her more than … than … the whole universe.”
“Well, then, the sooner you get used to reality, the better, Carlton,” the man with black hair said. “What you’re going through isn’t anything the rest of us haven’t already been through, man. You’ll survive it — but as Bob says, you need to stop thinking of yourself as a man. Stop trying to have pride. Do you think it’s insulting to have to kiss the ass of the man who’s fucking your wife? If you’re nothing but a little cuckold bitch, then why would that be insulting? And you DO realize that you ARE nothing but a little cuckold bitch, right?”
Carlton heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I know, I know.”
“You’re gonna be all right, bro,” the dark-haired man said. “Just hang in there, and keep remembering: she doesn’t want you; she wants him. Because you’re a little cuckold bitch, and women don’t like guys like us. Accept that and you’ll be fine.”
Bob smiled. “Thank you. That’s very good advice. And, since you haven’t been formally introduced yourself to the group, why don’t you do that, and tell us a little about your background?”
“Oh, sure, hey, everyone. My name is Christin and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Chisain.”
Bob furrowed his brow. “That’s an interesting name. Where’s that from?”
“It’s on my father’s side going back to France. Of course, my master calls me ‘Shit-stain.’ That’s pretty much become my name now, ever since James moved in with us. I gotta tell you … I’m so fucking sick of that motherfucking name. I hear it 100 times a day and it pisses me off every goddamn time. ‘Hey, Shit-Stain, make me another drink. Hey, Shit-Stain run to Burger King.’ I’m so fucking SICK of it! You think I’d be used to it by now … but no fucking way. They called me that in school, and now him … ugh.”
“Now, come on, Chisain — if you read “Rules for Cuckolds” like you were supposed to when you signed up for this group, you’d know that you’re supposed to be happy for your master when he finds something he can tease you about, like an insulting nickname,” Bob chided. “After all, like I say in the book, if you can’t provide a source of pleasure for the man who’s fucking your wife, then what good are you to him? Remember, resentment can build to a point where your master starts to notice it, and that just gives him another reason to want to kick you to the curb — and we all know our wives would go along with that in a second if their precious lovers ever told them to. Our jobs are to accept whatever our masters throw at us, so we can be cheerful and obedient at all times, the way they like us. And when they find a nickname for you, embrace it, because it means you’re pleasuring your master and mistress.”
“I know, I know,” Chisain said. “But … it’s just … I just hate that fucking nickname so bad, I can’t even tell you.”
“I understand, Shit-Stain — I mean Chisain, sorry. Listen, we all have to put up with little nicknames or other annoyances from our mistresses and masters. It’s all part of being a cuck. My master likes to call me ‘fuckwad.’ And Deb calls my penis my ‘birth defect.’ It makes me cringe every time she says it. I know it’s not always easy, but I try to be happy that she has something to tease me about because it gives her pleasure to do that.”
“Ugh, Jenny calls mine ‘that sad little pimple.’” Chisain sighed. “She said it should never get out of the cage.”
Bob raised his hand. “How many of us are in chastity?”
Everyone but Carlton and Marco raised their hands.
“Who’s been locked up the longest? I’m at 84 days.”
The men went around the room until Monte made everyone cringe by saying “Jan and Tom never let me out other than using the hose on me for cleaning. I’ve been locked up for eight years.”
The collective groan could be heard by the men playing basketball on the YMCA court upstairs. Seconds later, a manly voice shouted down: “Hey, fuckwad, time for you and your faggoty friends to cut it off. The game’s over and you need to come pack my gym bag.”
“Coming right up, Master,” Bob hollered before turning to the group. “Well, guys, looks like our time is up. My master plays ball here every Tuesday night, and he said he’d give me a ride over every week and let us use this room during their game. So, I hope to see you guys next Tuesday. I thought this was a productive first session.”
“ARE YOU COMING, FAGGOT?” the masculine bellow made Bob flinch.
“Sorry, Master, I’m coming now.” As Bob scuttled up the steps, the other six cucks smiled weakly at each other. They’d all been there.
by c.w. cobblestone
The tweed-jacketed nerd smoothed his comb-over and smiled at the six geeks whose chairs were arranged in a semicircle in the YMCA basement.
“Hello, everyone. My name is Bob, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Bob,” the group replied.
Bob picked his ear with his baby finger. “Um, thank you all for coming to the first of what I hope will be many cuckold group therapy sessions. I trust you all read my book, ‘Rules for Cuckolds’ when you signed up for the program?”
Everyone nodded.
“Great. So, as I said, I’m Bob, and I’ll be your moderator today, but I’m also one of you. My wife has a lover who has lived with us for many years, and, yes, I wear a chastity device. My wife’s boyfriend, Ron, is upstairs playing basketball right now; our meeting will last as long as his game does because he’s my ride. So, when he’s ready to go, we’ll have to split. His games usually last a good hour and a half at least, though, so we should have plenty of time. As you can see, I’m a cuckold like the rest of you … but I’m hoping today I can serve more as a facilitator, to sort of guide the discussion along. This isn’t about me; this is your time to try to work things out, and I’m just here to help. And sometimes, we do need help — this lifestyle of ours isn’t easy, is it?”
Every head shook as Bob continued. “I think the best way to do this would be to go around the circle, and each one of you can tell us a little something about yourself, and your situation at home. I’ll start: As I said, my wife’s lover Ron lives with us and has for quite some time. He moved in about 10 years ago after Debra met him at a party and they fell in love. I haven’t had sex since, and I’ve been in chastity for the past 9 years. I only get released 2-3 times a year, although I’ve gone a whole year without a release, depending on how badly I’m being punished. Ron is the absolute master of our house, and as far as Debra is concerned he can do no wrong.” Bob lowered his voice and glanced at the stairs. “He’s kind of a bully, and he can be cruel. It’s tough for me sometimes, but I’ve learned to live with it. I mean, as cucks, that’s all we can do — learn to live with it. Right?” Bob nodded at the fellow to his right. “Okay, would you like to go next?”
“Uh, sure. Hi, my name’s Marco and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Marco,” the men droned in unison.
“Um, hi. So … my wife doesn’t have a steady boyfriend like yours — she has a lot of boyfriends.” Marco shifted in his chair. “She’ll usually sleep with a guy once or twice and then move on to the next one. Carmen loves the party lifestyle, and I make enough money to support all the expensive bars and restaurants, so she’s hardly ever home. Every night just about, she goes to the club, or she’s out somewhere partying, either with her girlfriends or some guy.”
Bob stroked his chin. “I imagine that must get pretty lonely for you, sitting at home while she’s out all the time.”
“Well, yeah, it does. Unless she brings guys back; then I have to leave.”
“Ugh. I’ve been there.” Bob chuckled. “When Debra first started bringing Ron back to the house years ago, I racked up some hefty hotel bills. Eventually, though, when things got more permanent, and we had ‘the talk,’ they had me stay and serve them. He started bringing his laundry over, and having me wash his car, and that’s how it all kinda got started. But I guess it’s tough to get any routine going when your wife doesn’t keep her lovers for long, huh?”
“Um, yeah, kind of.” Marco’s lips tightened. “And, when she brings someone home, uh, I don’t go to hotels. I … she makes me sleep in the car.”
“OMG, me too,” a thin man piped in. “It doesn’t matter how cold it is, either — in fact, Caitlyn thinks it’s funny that I’m out there freezing while she’s nice and warm inside with some guy, so I’m not even allowed to turn the car on to get heat.”
Marco shook his head. “They’re so mean to us. Why do we put up with it?”
“Because we love them,” a pudgy guy replied. Everyone nodded.
“Because we’re fucking wimps,” a redhead added, and there were nervous laughs all ‘round.
When the mirth faded, Bob pointed to the man sitting next to Marco, the youngest member of the group. “Okay, sir, would you care to go next?”
“Um, hello. I’m Carlton and … I’m a … I’m a …” He started weeping.
“It’s okay.” Bob walked over to the sobbing man and rubbed his shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
Carlton wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened up in his chair. “No, no, I’m fine. I came here to do this, and I’m going through with it. Hello, everyone — my name is Carlton and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Carlton.”
“I love my wife with all my heart.” Carlton set his jaw. “But she loves another man. There’s nothing I can do about it. That’s just how it is. She … she’s crazy about him.”
Bob patted Carlton’s back. “It sounds like you’re a recent cuck. Am I right?”
“Um, yeah. I found out three weeks ago. I was supposed to fly to Boston for a conference but my boss called before I got to the airport and told me it was canceled. When I got back home, I could hear Angie screaming in the bedroom. I wanted to run in there and stop them, but … well, I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I was too much of a fucking coward. So, I just sat there on the couch crying. Like a little bitch. And then, when she finally comes out of the bedroom and sees me sitting there, she starts screaming at ME! Like I’d done something wrong when she was the one fucking another man in our bed! She’s standing there bitching me out, while this asshole I’ve never seen before is standing naked in the doorway cracking up … and he’s got this huge dick that keeps flopping around every time he laughs. And then … then Angie tells me she’s not going to stop seeing this Terrance guy, that they were in love, and that I could either put up with it or get a divorce. And I … I …”
“You put up with it,” the pudgy guy cut in. “We all do.”
“I hate it, man.” Carlton wiped his eyes. “I fucking HATE it.”
The chubby man sighed. “We all do. But just hang in there, man. It’ll get easier. I can’t say it’ll get any better, but it does get easier. To deal with, I mean.”
Bob gestured toward the portly participant. “You’re exactly right. We’ve all got to hang in there. Since you’re next anyway, why don’t you go ahead and introduce yourself to everyone?”
“Thanks. Hello, you guys, my name is Chester, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Chester.”
“Um … well, let’s see. Amy and Jamal have been together for six years now, and she’s pregnant with his third child. They already have two boys, so they’re hoping for a girl, although they want to keep the gender a surprise as they did with the other two. I’m praying for a girl because it would have to be better than what Jamal Jr. and Jaydon are putting me through.”
“Ugh, I know the feeling,” the redheaded guy said. “How old are yours?”
“Junior’s 3 and Jaydon’s 2.” Chester shook his head. “They get into everything, and I can’t do anything to stop them. I can ask nicely, try to reason with them—”
“Yeah, but what 3-year-old listens to reason?” The redhead twiddled his thumbs. “I get it, man. We’ve got no authority over them whatsoever — and they know it.”
Chester nodded and sighed. “I got the shit beat out of me the other day because Jamal heard me tell Junior not to stick a fork into the damn electric outlet. The little prick was about to stick it right in the socket, and all I said was, ‘You can’t do that or you’ll hurt yourself.’ But my master said it was too forceful, so I got 50 with the cane. He says if something like that happens from now on, I need to tell him, and he’ll explain things to his son.”
“I feel you, bro.” The redhead shuddered. “I was put on a starvation diet for three days because my master didn’t like the way I moved his youngest son away from the spot where I was trying to vacuum. I only nudged the little bastard out of the way, but Tom saw it and I was on water and vitamins for the next three days.”
“Ugh, starvation diets are the worst,” the thin guy said. “I just got off one yesterday. Still got a headache from it.”
“Oh, those headaches!” The redhead rolled his eyes. “I doubt our masters even know that’s one of the things we have to deal with when they put us on starvation diets like that — those horrible headaches from not eating.”
“My mistress wouldn’t care,” the skinny fellow said. “If Caitlyn knew I got headaches when she put me on starvation, she’d think it was funny.”
A dark-haired man scoffed. “Yeah, you wanna talk about a starvation diet headache? Try cleaning an entire office building with no sleep for three days after you’ve had nothing but water and vitamins for a whole week. My master owns a cleaning service and I spent the whole weekend nonstop cleaning a 120-unit complex all by myself after I hadn’t eaten all week. I had to work through the night both Friday and Saturday and until 4 am Monday. With no sleep since waking up Friday morning, and have not had a fucking bite to eat. Plus, I had to keep taking caffeine pills, and my head was pounding. So, don’t tell me about having a damn starvation diet headache!”
“Now, now, we’re not here to compare,” Bob cautioned. “We all have it hard in our ways or we wouldn’t be here. My masters don’t even use starvation diets on me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get punished.” He glanced at the stairs again. “Ron made me crawl inside a Port-A-Potty toilet and kneel there for about an hour during a party he and Debra threw for their kinky friends because there was a fly in the punchbowl. It wasn’t even my fault, but they were embarrassed, so Ron told me I needed to be embarrassed, too. It was no picnic, believe me. So, we all get punished in our ways, and we all have it bad … okay?”
The dark-haired guy held up his hand. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to compare my situation with anyone else’s. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I was just saying how bad that headache was after a whole week of not eating, and no sleep for three days. I got a little emotional about it, sorry.”
The skinny cuck frowned. “Jeez, what’d you do to get a whole week on starvation, bro?”
“Um, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Now, remember: nothing should be embarrassing in here,” Bob said. “We’re all in the same boat. Tell us what got you a week of starvation. It’s okay.”
“Well … okay, James caught me sniffing Jenny’s panties. I got 100 with the strap and a week on starvation. That weekend, I had to clean the whole complex by myself, and it was a bitch after not having anything to eat for six days. By Monday morning, I was ready to drop — but I got it all done!”
Bob smiled. “That’s great. See? We should pride ourselves on a job well done when we overcome challenges and accomplish things like that. I mean, as I say in the book, cuckolds should never be prideful, of course — because what’s there to be prideful about when you’re not man enough to satisfy your wife, right?”
The group chuckled and shifted in their seats as one.
“But I do think it’s okay to pat ourselves on the back once in a while.” Bob turned to the redhead. “Okay, you’re next. Maybe you can tell us something you’ve done recently to be proud. First, please introduce yourself to the group.”
“Hi, I’m Monte, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Monte.”
Bob cocked his head. “Monte, can you think of anything you’ve done recently, maybe something you’ve done to serve your masters where you went above and beyond, that you’re particularly proud of?”
“Well … um, I don’t know if this counts, but Jan and her boyfriend Tom have five kids together — three in diapers — so as you can imagine, I don’t get much downtime. The other day when I was changing the twins, Jan tells me she doesn’t know what she’d do without me, and she praised me for juggling so much. Her exact words were, ‘You work so hard. You’re the best slave a girl could ever ask for.’ So, it’s not something I did, per se, but I’m still kinda proud of it. I mean, for HER to say something like that is amazing. I’ll always remember that moment, and cherish it.”
“Well, of course, that counts,” Bob said. “You earned that praise from your mistress through years of hard work and serving her and her ******. It sounds like she doesn’t praise you very often?”
“Oh, Gawd, no. Usually, all she does is yell at me.”
“Ugh, tell me about it.” The skinny guy chuckled. “Caitlyn wakes up yelling at me.”
Bob nodded at the thin man. “Okay, you’re next up, can you please introduce yourself to the group?”
“Um, hi, I’m Lew, and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Lew.”
“I’ve known Caitlyn since we were both babies; our moms were friends and we grew up across the street from each other. I always had a crush on her, and she was always mean to me. From as far back as I can remember. Our moms used to laugh about how as toddlers, she’d hit me for no reason and I’d run away crying, but I’d always come back and apologize, usually by picking a dandelion or sneaking her my dessert from dinner. But that would only make her meaner.”
Bob scratched his ear with his pen. “So, how did you end up marrying her?”
“Well, when we got older, she dated other guys, of course, because she’s beautiful. I never went on dates, but I’d sit at my window and watch guys pick her up, and then wait there until they’d drop her off. A lot of times, they’d stay parked, and I’d spy on them. Anyway, I went off to college, and she kind of hung around town doing nothing, living at home and partying. I ended up getting a good engineering job and she told me she needed security after her ma died, so at the funeral, she just kinda told me we were getting married. I was over the moon, even though there was nothing romantic about it; we went down to the county building and signed the paperwork, and that was it.”
“Does Caitlyn have a steady boyfriend?” Bob asked.
“No, not right now, thank goodness. I’m always afraid when she sees a guy more than three or four times that maybe this will be the one who steals her away from me.”
“Tell me about it,” Marco said. “That’s all I think about, bro. If Carmen does ever find somebody, and if he’s not comfortable with me … shit, she’ll throw me out in a minute, and just take my money in a divorce.”
Carlton, the neophyte cuck who’d been sitting quietly with his shoulders slumped since making his tearful introduction, cleared his throat. “So, what do you guys do to keep that from happening? You know … from keeping the boyfriend from stealing her away? Angie’s completely in love with this guy. She’d move to Antarctica with him if he wanted, so she’d dump me without even thinking about it.”
“Well, you’re in the early stages,” Bob said. “My best advice to you is, show your wife’s boyfriend … what was his name again?”
“Um … Terrance.”
“Okay, Carlton, my advice is to you to show Terrance up front that you aren’t going to be a problem, and that he has no reason to want to steal her from you in the first place. Have you talked to him about any of this yet since you caught them in the bedroom?”
“No, I stay in the basement whenever he comes over.”
“Well, you need to talk to him,” Bob said. “Address the issue head-on. Tell him that you understand that your wife prefers him, but explain that you can be useful to both of them. Think of ways you can make his life easier; come up with a list before you approach him, and read off all the things you plan to do to facilitate his affair with your wife, if only he’ll allow you to stay in her life. Tell him you’d be happy to wash his clothes, clean his apartment, run errands — whatever he needs. Cut the issue off at the pass, before he starts thinking about taking her away from you — let him know he already has her, and that there are a lot of benefits to keeping you around.”
“He’s right — you gotta show your belly,” the dark-haired man said. “I got down on my knees when I had ‘the talk’ with my master.”
Carlton rubbed his temples. “S-seriously? I’ve even got to get on my damn knees? And kiss this guy’s ass, wash his car, and shit? The guy who’s fucking my wife??? What the fuck?”
Bob clucked. “Look, Carlton, I don’t want to be harsh, but you need to stop thinking of yourself as a man. You do. I know it’s hard, and in fact, this stage may be the hardest part. The acceptance. The giving in. Realizing that the only way to keep your wife in your life is to throw yourself at their mercy and beg for any little crumbs they decide to throw you. Yes, kiss his ass, and do whatever you can to make yourself useful to him, so he wants to stay around. Because you know damn well — she’ll go wherever he goes.”
“What a fucking nightmare.” Carl huffed.
“No, it’s real,” the dark-haired man said. “The only question is whether you want to face reality, bro. Sounds like the reality is, your wife is in love with this guy. Do you want to keep her in your life, or do you want her running off with him? And you’ll still have to pay for it with alimony, anyway?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course, I want her in my life. I love her more than … than … the whole universe.”
“Well, then, the sooner you get used to reality, the better, Carlton,” the man with black hair said. “What you’re going through isn’t anything the rest of us haven’t already been through, man. You’ll survive it — but as Bob says, you need to stop thinking of yourself as a man. Stop trying to have pride. Do you think it’s insulting to have to kiss the ass of the man who’s fucking your wife? If you’re nothing but a little cuckold bitch, then why would that be insulting? And you DO realize that you ARE nothing but a little cuckold bitch, right?”
Carlton heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I know, I know.”
“You’re gonna be all right, bro,” the dark-haired man said. “Just hang in there, and keep remembering: she doesn’t want you; she wants him. Because you’re a little cuckold bitch, and women don’t like guys like us. Accept that and you’ll be fine.”
Bob smiled. “Thank you. That’s very good advice. And, since you haven’t been formally introduced yourself to the group, why don’t you do that, and tell us a little about your background?”
“Oh, sure, hey, everyone. My name is Christin and I’m a cuckold.”
“Hi, Chisain.”
Bob furrowed his brow. “That’s an interesting name. Where’s that from?”
“It’s on my father’s side going back to France. Of course, my master calls me ‘Shit-stain.’ That’s pretty much become my name now, ever since James moved in with us. I gotta tell you … I’m so fucking sick of that motherfucking name. I hear it 100 times a day and it pisses me off every goddamn time. ‘Hey, Shit-Stain, make me another drink. Hey, Shit-Stain run to Burger King.’ I’m so fucking SICK of it! You think I’d be used to it by now … but no fucking way. They called me that in school, and now him … ugh.”
“Now, come on, Chisain — if you read “Rules for Cuckolds” like you were supposed to when you signed up for this group, you’d know that you’re supposed to be happy for your master when he finds something he can tease you about, like an insulting nickname,” Bob chided. “After all, like I say in the book, if you can’t provide a source of pleasure for the man who’s fucking your wife, then what good are you to him? Remember, resentment can build to a point where your master starts to notice it, and that just gives him another reason to want to kick you to the curb — and we all know our wives would go along with that in a second if their precious lovers ever told them to. Our jobs are to accept whatever our masters throw at us, so we can be cheerful and obedient at all times, the way they like us. And when they find a nickname for you, embrace it, because it means you’re pleasuring your master and mistress.”
“I know, I know,” Chisain said. “But … it’s just … I just hate that fucking nickname so bad, I can’t even tell you.”
“I understand, Shit-Stain — I mean Chisain, sorry. Listen, we all have to put up with little nicknames or other annoyances from our mistresses and masters. It’s all part of being a cuck. My master likes to call me ‘fuckwad.’ And Deb calls my penis my ‘birth defect.’ It makes me cringe every time she says it. I know it’s not always easy, but I try to be happy that she has something to tease me about because it gives her pleasure to do that.”
“Ugh, Jenny calls mine ‘that sad little pimple.’” Chisain sighed. “She said it should never get out of the cage.”
Bob raised his hand. “How many of us are in chastity?”
Everyone but Carlton and Marco raised their hands.
“Who’s been locked up the longest? I’m at 84 days.”
The men went around the room until Monte made everyone cringe by saying “Jan and Tom never let me out other than using the hose on me for cleaning. I’ve been locked up for eight years.”
The collective groan could be heard by the men playing basketball on the YMCA court upstairs. Seconds later, a manly voice shouted down: “Hey, fuckwad, time for you and your faggoty friends to cut it off. The game’s over and you need to come pack my gym bag.”
“Coming right up, Master,” Bob hollered before turning to the group. “Well, guys, looks like our time is up. My master plays ball here every Tuesday night, and he said he’d give me a ride over every week and let us use this room during their game. So, I hope to see you guys next Tuesday. I thought this was a productive first session.”
“ARE YOU COMING, FAGGOT?” the masculine bellow made Bob flinch.
“Sorry, Master, I’m coming now.” As Bob scuttled up the steps, the other six cucks smiled weakly at each other. They’d all been there.
