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. Bonding

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Lutheran Maid, May 11, 2018.

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  1. Lutheran Maid

    Lutheran Maid Well-Known Member Author!

    Merrick had a special place, down on the beach of Brownsea Island, beyond the lagoon where the birds waded through luxuriant frond jade water. To be honest, it wasn't much. Just a discreet spot, beyond the view of the main buildings run by that bitch Claire. In this spot, provided that no boat came nosing around the headland, Merrick force his caged dick between two conveniently smooth and proximal rocks and gain some sort of relief, thrusting against the surface like he was fucking a laid up seal or something. The crevice was big enough, the cage would move a bit in the space down there. There was enough touch of the rock for his cock to sense that it was actually fucking something. So now he did it, after a furtive look around he pushed his caged member into the gap and started to work it there. He started to think about things, like Carol, his wife necking with that fucking mop head from Nigeria. He started to imagine Marcus's big fucking hands running around all over her bare arse and then up between her pretty legs. The fucker always looked so big against her. It wasn't that Carol was tiny or anything, it was just that the bastard was so fucking big. How the bastard zealots hadn't plugged that fucker in Afghanistan, he was a big enough target. Merrick betted that the bastard ran around that place like some kind of fucking hero. He wasn't the sensitive sort, the type that Merrick imagined that Carol would fall for. He was the direct and nasty type, the rough and animal kind that she always said lived on the run down city centre housing estates. But now he was fucking her and how! He was fucking her so that she barely knew what to do with herself if he wasn't around to make her feel sexed up. So Merrick stroked, and of course he rubbed his cock skin a tad raw on one side. He was thinking a lot about them, fucking, the bastard's cock stretching out her cunt so that it looked like it might split. He thought of Carol grunting on him, like she was already giving birth to his kids. He thought about her throwing back her head so the fucker could kiss her bare throat and then her back arching like a bridge as he took her. He thought about that and his balls pulled and his cock creamed, in that ruined, limited thrust, pathetic kind of way that he hated so much. Fuuuuck!

    When Merrick had finished he felt ashamed. He felt terribly ashamed. It was not that he needed to wank, all men did, didn't they? No, it was that he thought about Marcus the marvellous taking his wife when he did so. It was that it was always him that had his dick slotting in and out of her, holding her hand, locking her mouth on his as they clinched. It was that the bastard and his coupling was imprinted in his head. The other serfs said, they said they did things to you in your sleep. They used some kind of suggestion. They managed to fuck your mind for you so that you got crazed inside your noddle, thinking about, hating but needing what the exalted black bastard did with your wife. When they had first come here, to the island, Carol had fucked a lot of black guys like the other bitches in training did. She went to them willingly, quietly, with a shy smile in Merrick's direction if he was nearby. She let them put their fucking hands up her skirt, working her wet slit, necking with them as they masturbated her ready. That had been their thing Merrick thought, Carol and mine. We always liked that idea, about me watching a black dude take her. Deep down for me, thought Merrick, it was always about watching tricks. He had thought that was Carol's thing too, flaunting herself with the thick lipped lothario. He had thought that for a while, but then the bastards had got a hold of her head too, teaching her that to stand aloof, to be cruel, to belittle the husband was way too sexy to resist for a smart bitch like her.

    Merrick looked furtively about, out across the water, over to the headland, checking that he wasn't observed. His caged dick had a raw patch down the side. Yeah, that little ridge of rock got in there, through the metal cage and much as it rubbed his cock up, it did provide some kind of relief. His dick was dripping, white stuff. Not as thick as before, not as thick as before they came to this fucking island, but there was spunk of a sort there. He stuffed his raw cock back into his fatigues and buttoned up the fly as quickly as he could. He trembled as he did so. There had been a serf, he had heard about it. The poor fucker had found a way to wank somehow, despite the cage and they had taken him away for a kicking. After the bitches in the boots had finished with him, he didn't much feel like touching his cock again. He would sit at the refectory table afterwards and swear that the proper thing to use was your tongue. You could lick your way to some kind of twisted, perverted, nirvana.

    Standing up from the rocks, Merrick gathered up handfuls of seaweed that the centre used for the slab water baths that the bitches luxuriated in. Apparently the stuff was excellent for the skin, for a good complexion. Merrick imagined Carol lying naked in such a hot tub of the swirling, rubbery, slimy, insinuating finger tongues of the weed. This was his job that morning, to gather up basket fulls of the fucking stuff, to carry it back to the centre, wash and process it and then box it so that another bunch of serfs could prepare the baths for when the bitch mistress's came in. It was only as Merrick came around an outcrop of rocks that he saw him there. The fucking Nigerian, dressed in just a pair of denim shorts and some light plimsols that enabled him to run across the rocks when he jogged of a morning. Instantly the fear welled up inside Merrick. Had he seen? Had the fucker watched him emptying a load on the rocks? Whatever was known or witnessed, his master beckoned him over with a wave of the arm. Merrick dropped the last bunch of seaweed into the basket and hurried on over. As was customary he dropped to his knees in front of the big guy and bade master good morning. When the Nigerian got his gross cock out, heavy headed with a circumcised helmet, Merrick put his hands behind his back and received it into his mouth. It started soft, but it stiffened quickly. Merrick had been punched until he sucked with a soft mouth. It was like a fucking gun dog trick, learning to carry something in your mouth softly. The Nigerian caught Merrick's hair and started to stroke into his mouth, staring out at the sea, bonding with his new serf.

    'Gonna give my bitch a baby' he told the hapless Merrick, 'gonna give her one pretty soon, once we go and set up home back on the mainland.'

    That was the thing wasn't it. If a couple sparked, if a bitch needed one particular dude so much, and he fancied the scene, then he would own her and of course, own the cuck too. There would be a bonding and that was what this repugnant act was all about. What had that fucking bitch said, that couples associated with the island had now spawned thousands of fucking kids. Spoilt, privileged, mixed race, arrogant little fucking princesses and princes to carry on the traditions begun here. Merrick would have liked to have bitten down on the bastards dirty great prong. He would have licked to have made the bastard yelp. But that was crazy. That would be fucking crazy as the guy was on the island to teach the alpha bros unarmed combat. What he had learned in the rough lands beyond Kabul he was passing on to the bastards who ruled bedrooms.

    'Now my balls man, give them a fucking good licking too' ordered Marcus.

    Merrick obeyed, angling down as best he could and licking up the heavy and pendulous balls of the dominant male. He licked around and around in swirls with his tongue, wincing when he saw his mistress walking along the shore towards them. She wore only the skimpiest bikini and her tits moved mesmeric as she walked. She waved to the fucker as he stood legs akimbo, dominating Merrick, cuffing his ear and little this way or that to get the licks where he wanted them.

    'I thought you might come down here!' she trilled to him as she arrived beside them. She smiled eagerly up at him and he kissed her. It was as if Merrick didn't exist! It was like he was a cur or something, brushing between their legs. They started to kiss slowly deeply, unselfconscious about what might be seen from a boat on the water. He played with her paps, through the flimsy material of her bikini top and quick as you please the garment dropped away. The fucker could do that, he could remove a bra or bikini top one handed. Carol giggled and reached down, catching hold of his tumescent cock and directing it back into Merrick's mouth. Merrick worked it harder, thrusting his mouth into the cock. However much he hated it, there was a chance that they would fuck. There was a chance for him to see why he was set aside. It helped him cope, watching the guy put her through it all.

    Marcus pulled her bikini bottoms down and Merrick's mistress was naked then. She was nut brown, suntanned, curvaceously contoured naked. Merrick was directed to lie face up on the sand and his mistress, giggling, settled her sex on his mouth, resting on his face whilst she took the Nigerian's erection into her luscious mouth and started to suck. Blacked out, intoxicated by the taste and the smell of her sex, Merrick could see nothing of it, but he could hear her sucking, hear her sucking and encouraging Marcus to service her again. Out on the beach, in view of any boat that came close by, she was begging for a shafting and almost asphyxiating the squirming Merrick.

    'I love you' she said, teasing with her tongue, 'the unselfconscious way you are with him. I can picture it, Merrick (she only called him by his surname) doing your bidding around our home.'

    The Nigerian grunted his pleasure. The bitch had a nice mouth, a really nice mouth!

    'Pull his cage out, pull the fucking thing out, I want to see it struggle in that thing' said Marcus arrogantly.

    Did Merrick hear that? No. You knew that he didn't because when his mistress lifted off his smeared face and twisted about to take his locked genitals out, he doubled up. Fuck, no! You know why, I do too. Fuck no, he couldn't let them see the state of that!

    The Nigerian kicked his ribs, enough to make Merrick wince.

    'Don't you fucking dare resist your mistress!' he snarled.

    Merrick brought his knees back down, uncoiling. He started to beg, something about sand in the cage locked groin. He begged something, something ineffectual. When Carol pulled his caged cock free of the fatigues, she stared. His dick was raw down one side. There was spunk smeared on on the frame. She looked up at the Nigerian and his face hardened. Merrick felt her lift off him completely then and Marcus grabbed his ear. There was a sharp twist and Merrick yelped. He yelped like a dog. Unceremoniously Merrick was dragged, now stumbling, now crawling to the water's edge. With a perfunctory shove of the foot Merrick was shoved face down in a foot of sea water. He hadn't a chance to catch breath and nothing could have prepared him for the searing soreness as the salt kissed his raw cock. The Nigerian pulled his face from the water and desperate, Merrick sucked down a breath. God! Please!!! His face was forced down again. The bubbles erupted around Merrick's face as he struggled vainly. Up his face was pulled again.

    'You bin wanking son?' snapped his assailant.

    'Yes sir' confessed Merrick. The answer instinctive, you didn't hold out on a thug. He took another ducking, a terrifying trip beneath the water's surface. His cock felt like it had been branded. His face was dragged up into the air once more.

    'What you bin thinking about son, when you jagging on that scrawny?'

    'You Sir.....you sir!! Fucking my mistress' Merrick managed. Carol was watching him, she stood shin deep in the water.

    'You admire that....the way I take her?' he sneered.

    'Yes sir!' begged Merrick.

    'You like how she wants me and not you?'

    'Yes sir' whined Merrick. Another breath, ' Please sir, no more, I'm sorry.'

    'You think I should march you in to see Miss Claire? You think I should hand you over to her?'

    The very idea terrified Merrick.

    'Please sir...noooooo!'

    Carol moved to him then. She moved to him and kissed him softly. She ran her manicured fingers down his pot marked cheek, across the stubble of his beard.

    'May be he worshipped us darling, may be it was like that. May be he is bonding his way...doing that?'

    Marcus kissed her back. He kissed her back wantonly, his hand running wet now, down her buck naked body.

    ' May be' Marcus said, 'we'll see. May be.....'


    [For a future novel there should (I think) be several interwoven strands. 'The Island of Intimacy' would have couples getting to the point of being owned as well as neophytes. More try out ideas. Beyond that begun in 'The Intimacy of Three" (available through Amazon).]
     
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