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. Cucky Sitter

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Throne, Dec 22, 2016.

. Cucky Sitter 3 5 3votes
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  1. Throne

    Throne Well-Known Member Author!


    by Throne

    Lester wasn't sure what was going to happen. His wife Carli had been dropping hints all day, and whatever she was referring to amused her endlessly. What Lester did know what that she was going to have her regular Saturday night date with Tyrone. He hated that. Hated to see his tall sexy wife, with her long blond hair and extravagant curves running off with that towering, muscular Black man. It didn't help that she loved to brag about the incredible sex she had with her lover and wouldn't stop raving about his thick, 9 inch cock. Lester, being short and soft and possessed of a penis that could charitably be described as smaller than average, was no match for her superior bed partner. But why did she keep mentioning 'cousins' and 'helpers'? And chuckling after those references? He couldn't puzzle out what it added up to.

    By eight o'clock, when Tyrone was due to pick up Carli, Lester had convinced himself that his wife was just playing with his mind. Those hints she had dropped weren't about anything at all, just one more way for her to upset him. Sure. That was it. He had gotten himself calmed down to the point where he only had his usual concerns about her infidelity. Then, about ten minutes later, he got a terrible shock. Tyrone arrived but he wasn't alone. Coming in their front door behind him was a Black woman. She was tall like Tyrone, and sexily plump like Carli, except that her bottom was extra large. Lester shuddered at the sight of her. She was arousing but, more than that, she was threatening.

    After Tyrone had shared a warm hug and a wet kiss with Carli, the Black man turned to Lester. He said, "Yo, white boy. This is my cousin Wanda. She gonna take care of you while we're out. She make sure you don't play with that little pickle you got where there oughta be a cock. She gonna be like a helper around here. A babysitter."

    "Yeah," Carli agreed. "Or maybe we should call her a cuckold sitter."

    Wanda's laugh was deep and unrestrained. She said, "That's me, little Lester. I'm your cucky sitter. While that hot wife of yours is out with my cousin, I'll be taking real good care of you."

    He was stunned. "B... but, I don't need to be... taken care of. I'm a grown man."

    "Riiight," Wanda said skeptically. "A growed man who can't even hold onto his own wife. An adult who plays with his dinky dingus." She laughed again. "No, Les. You gots to be looked after... like a naughty boy."

    The shaken husband was still trying to argue his case when his wife and the real man in her life walked out the door. Lester turned to Wanda and held out his hands, as if to suggest that he was being reasonable and she should do the same.

    He told her, "Honestly, this isn't necessary. Maybe you could just watch some TV. We get that Black channel. I think. And I can read or listen to some classical music."

    "No, pinky. That ain't the way it's gonna be. Me and you are gonna have some fun together. I think maybe first we should play some dress-up. Yo wife left some things for me to put on you."

    "Wha... what!? Dress-up? Now wait a minute. That's absurd." She took two steps toward him. "And another thing..."

    That was as far as he got before her wide hand flashed at him and connected with the side of his face. He staggered back but she kept coming, using her other hand to slap his opposite cheek. He grabbed his face and stood there in shock.

    "Now you listen up, vanilla. I wanna have my fun and if dressin' you pretty is part of that, then you gonna go along with it."

    When he started to speak again she grabbed him by the shirtfront and yanked so hard that the top buttons went flying. Wanda gave him a few more swats across the face, shoved him forcefully enough that he fell backwards, then dropped to her knees alongside him. She undid his pants and yanked them down to the middle of his thighs. Then she retightened his belt to its limit and fastened it that way. His legs were bound together. She also tugged the damaged shirt down off his shoulders so that it pinned his arms to his sides. When he tried to squirm out of it she raised her hand as if to smack his face once more. That made him stop moving.

    "Tha's betta," she announced. "You stop givin' me sass and I'll be extra nice to you. I don't want no uppity white boy. But right now I gotta do sumpin' about you givin' me a hassle before. Wicked boy like you needs a spankin'."

    Wanda got to her feet, moving easily for a woman of her dimensions. She grabbed him under the arms and hauled him upright, then walked him over to a wooden chair. The big woman sat and dragged him across her broad lap. She got her fingers under the waistband of his jockey shorts and wrenched them down to where his trousers were. He started to struggle, desperate to cover his bare bottom. But when she grabbed his scrotum and began to close her powerful hand, he yelped and ceased his efforts.

    She said, "Tha's right, Les. You gettin' smart. You do what Wanda says and you'll be okay. You fidget and fuss, Wanda'll give you what for. Right?"

    "Yes. Right."

    "Cain't you say it nicer than that?"

    He thought for a second and then tried, "Yes, Ma'am. That's exactly right. Thank you for helping me understand."

    "No problem, white bread. I'll be makin' you understan' all kinds of stuff before yo wife and my cousin gets back. And they gonna be a while, you know, cause he gonna have that monster tool of his all up in her and pumpin' hard. Ain't he?"

    Lester didn't want to admit that but he was to scared to remain silent or to be evasive. He told her, "Yes. They'll be back late. Because Tyrone will be... having intercourse... with my wife. Ma'am."

    "Having what? How about he gonna be bangin' her hard and she be beggin' for more?"

    "I... uh..." He took a deep breath. "Yes. Of course. He will be... ravishing her and... she'll be requesting that he not stop."

    Wanda shook her head, brought her hand up and ran it over her hair, which was worn natural and cut short. "Guess that's close enough. So let's get busy makin' that white booty of yours get all pink and then nice and red." She laughed softly to herself.

    As he lay there, exposed and vulnerable, shamed to have his buttocks on display, she raised her arm. He sealed his lips. At least it was only a spanking. How much could it hurt? He would simply grit his teeth and endure it, then do whatever he had to, to make this evening endurable. Wanda rocked slightly from side to side. Lester thought she was relaxing so he let his breath out and tried to untense the muscles in his back. Just as he dropped his guard she swung hard, her palm making contact with his bum and producing a loud meaty splat.

    Surprised and feeling much more pain than he had anticipated, Lester howled and jerked his legs. He was still hampered by his own clothing and couldn't get free. Wanda spanked him violently, making it impossible for him to catch his breath. The pain mounted and he blinked back tears. But she didn't relent and soon there were tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. He wailed and then began to blubber as she disciplined him on and on. At last she halted her attack. His backside was on fire. His nose was running. He couldn't find his voice.

    She wanted to know, "You learned your lesson, boy?"

    He nodded and produced a few choked syllables. "Ye... yes. M... Ma'am."

    Wanda rubbed his bottom, kneaded it, and pinched the backs of his thighs. When he didn't complain or even wriggle around, she was satisfied and stood up, dumping him in a heap at her feet.

    The big woman decided, "I need a foot rub, Les. How bout you take off my shoes an' do that for me?"

    He rolled onto his side and then struggled to get his knees under him, so he could sit back on his heels. That was a mistake, as it make his unlucky bottom hurt even more. So he moved his feet apart and leaned forward, keeping his burning cheeks elevated. She leaned forward, took hold of his shirt, and got it back where it belonged, so he could use his hands.

    His tormentor chortled and told him, "Back up some, baby boy, and get yo' elbows on the floor. That's right. Now take off my shoes."

    He unlaced the dark red footwear, unable to avoid feeling the smooth leather. Carefully he slipped them off her largish feet. Lester look up at her, hoping to see approval in her dark eyes. He gazed up at her close-fitting top and how it showed off her substantial bust. He got a close-up look at her tight slacks and how they clung to her full thighs. Her face didn't display any reaction. The last thing he wanted at that point was to displease her, so he lowered his eyes submissively and took one bare foot in his hands. As he massaged it he inhaled the odor caused by her feet having been inside her shoes, a mixture of leather and perspiration. Wanda sighed as he worked and let her head loll back.

    Grateful that he had pleased her at least that much, he tried hard to elevate her mood further. Lester went to work on the other foot. She purred contentedly. Then, just as he was telling himself that the worst was over, she suggested that he kiss her toes. He didn't like the idea of having his mouth on her there but did it anyway. At her instructions it gradually went from kissing to licking, to toe sucking and even getting his tongue between the individual digits. Utterly degraded, he tried to think of some way to make this nightmare end. But what could he do? That woman was too big and strong for him to defeat, and too eager to have more 'fun' for him to dissuade with words, even if he did dare try talking back to her again.

    At last Wanda let him stop. The unpleasant taste of her feet was strong on his tongue. She got up, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and again pulled him to his feet. When she told him to strip naked he removed his shirt, undid his belt, shook off his slip-on shoes, and got out of both slacks and shorts. He neatly folded his clothes and set them on the chair, sliding the shoes underneath. Wanda smirked at his attempts at placating good behavior. She was treating him like a boy and he was already beginning to act like one. But wait until he saw what came next.

    "Let's go," she barked, startling him. "To the spare bedroom."

    Carli must have told her about the house. And Wanda had mentioned something Lester's wife had gotten that had to do with whatever the 'dress-up' game involved. He followed the domineering female up the hall, unable to take his eyes off her wide protruding bottom as it rolled with her long-legged strides. He wanted to put his hands over his genitals and hide how small he was down there, as well as how little blond, wispy pubic hair grew in that area. Even so, intimidated as he was, he kept his hands by his sides.

    Once they were in the bedroom he noticed a light red shopping bag on the bed. Wanda reached into it and produced a bright pink garter belt. That couldn't possibly fit her, so what was she going to do with it? As the imposing woman held it out to him he understood. With a sinking feeling he accepted it. Lester managed to fasten the girly bit of elasticized material around is middle. On each side two garters dangled. Next she handed him a pair of pale pink stockings. He hesitated but, instead of punishing him for that, she just savored his discomfort. Inevitably, he surrendered, sat on the edge of the bed (which reminded him again of how sore his bottom was), and tried to remember how his wife put on stockings, which he had always tried to watch without being obvious about it because it was so arousing. Under Wanda's critical gaze he got them all the way up and fumblingly attached the garters. She made him undo and straighten one side before allowing him to reattach the garters.

    When she was satisfied with that she moved on to his hair. Wanda used a brush and styling gel to bring his blond locks up in the front so that he looked positively sissy-like. Then she took some cosmetics which Carli had left for her on the dresser. She darkened and elongated his eyebrows, made his eyelids blue, put excess rouge on his cheeks, and gave him a bright red, puckered-looking mouth. When she put a hand on his shoulder and steered him to the closet, he wasn't sure what was next. But Wanda simply opened the door so that he could view himself in the full-length mirror hung on the inside of the door.

    Lester gasped. OH NO! He looked like a wimp pansy. His always small dick has shriveled up even more, until it was like a rosy acorn. His lower lip thrust out and began to quiver. He was riddled with shame.

    "So," Wanda inquired, "You think yo' wife's gonna like this new look I give you? Hmmm? It kind of shows off the real Les. Don't you think so?"

    He whispered, "Please, Wanda. Don't let my wife see me like this. She'd never think of me as a man again."

    "Honey, she don't think that now. And you know, I got to consider how this makes me look. I mean, they got to see that I did my job."

    "I... I guess so. Ma'am."

    "That's my baby Les. So now you got to thank me." She turned her back to him. He gaped at her queen-sized posterior. "How about you pull down them slacks so you can give my big Black bottom lots of kisses, like you did for my pretty feet."

    He felt sick. She couldn't be serious. Wanda looked back over her shoulder and curled her upper lip. She was serious. Holding back tears, he went to her and gingerly lowered her slacks. They fell to her knees and stayed there because her feet were slightly apart. Lester bent forward at the waist to uncertainly place a few chaste kisses on the upper curve of her well upholstered backside. She told him to keep going. He bent his knees and kissed his way down one cheek and then the other. She wanted more. He knelt, closed his eyes and put his lower face into the deep valley between those twin hills... and kissed. She let loose a snorting laugh.

    "Now you gettin' the idea, Les boy. Or maybe that's Les girl. You mus' be one o' them lezzies, wantin' to kiss a woman's booty like you do."

    In a strained whisper he lied, "Yes, Ma'am. I must be. Because I... want to kiss you... there."

    As he got his face into position again she reached back around, grabbed his ears, and dragged his features into the cleft of her ass, burying him there and not letting him go until he had met her extreme demands. Lester was left red-faced, his lipstick smeared. She didn't bother to fix his mouth. Wanda liked the way it made him look kind of slutty. She made him remove her pants the rest of the way and peeled out of that snug top herself. Naked, she stood before him like a conquering goddess. Lester whimpered and hung his head in defeat.

    Wanda said, "Now don't you move none, girl." She scooped up her pants from the floor, reached into a pocket, produced her cell phone, and punched a pre-set number. After a moment she said, "Hey, Carli. Yeah, how you doin? That cousin o' mine treatin' you good? Tyrone givin' you some proper lovin'? Yeah, I heard that about him. He can jus' go and go and go. Ha! Well, I'm about to get some lovin' from yo' Lester. But his dick's so tiny that he gonna use his tongue on my pussy." She glared down at the broken man. "Ain't that right, snowflake?"

    "Yes, Ma'am," he whispered.

    "Good answer, girl. And make sure you keep yo' voice like that, all soft and sweet." She spread her legs so that he was staring at the thick, pink external lips of her vagina, as well as the wet interior. The smell was not pleasant. Wanda told Carli, "We been havin' lots of fun. He didn't want to play dress-up so I had to spank his ass first. Made him kiss my booty." She grabbed his head and mashed his face against her mound. He gagged but, when she twisted his ear, began to lick. "He don't seem to like what I'm makin' him do. I'm all sweaty down there and last night one of my boyfriends shot his load in me, and I ain't cleaned up yet. It's real stanky between my legs."

    Lester lapped at her unwashed privates, his stomach churning. "Please," he pleaded quietly between strokes of his tongue, "let me stop. It's so foul. (sob) I can't stand it. (gulp) The smell. The taste. (lick, slurp, slobber)"

    He heard his bride laughing through the phone connection. Then Wanda said goodbye. She allowed him to take a break from his unwelcome task, but only so he could strike some girly poses, play with his own nipples, and she could take pictures of him with her phone.

    She explained, "Yo' Missus wants to look at you with yo' sissy-face on while Tyrone has his rod inside her. Says it gonna make her cum harder. Ha!"

    She pointed to the juncture of her fleshy thighs. Lester whined but got his mouth busy again. It was awful to have been given a respite and then to have to start over again. And his wife was going to see the unforgettable images of him as he looked now. He turned up his eyes as he tended to Wanda's needs and she was taking another photo of him. For the next hour he had to continue serving her -- she made him go slow -- while she enjoyed several orgasms. Each time she finished she clamped her thighs against his head, held his mouth and nose where they were, and nearly smothered him. At the same time, her climaxes made her sexual juices flow so heavily that he had to swallow to clear his mouth. He knew he was also cleaning up the salty semen that some anonymous bedmate of hers had spurted there. Lester's mouth was where that man's stiff cock had been the night before. He knew he would never recover from what was happening to him.

    Shortly after midnight, Tyrone brought Carli home. They had seen the pictures of Lester but seeing him live, watching him cringe and wring his hands, hearing him murmur for his wife to please never do this to him again, made them both laugh out loud at him.

    Carli's laughter was torture to Lester. Then she said, "Don't do it to you again? Are you kidding? Knowing you were eating Wanda while Tyrone was screwing me -- it was priceless. No, no, you pathetic wuss. From now on Wanda's going to be your cucky sitter every time Tyrone takes me to his place for more amazing sex. That is, if Wanda wants to."

    The Black woman's face was split by a wide grin. "Course I do, Carli honey. Li'l Les here and me are going to party every Saturday night."

    "Actually, Tyrone and I are going to see each other more often. Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. At least."

    "Sounds good to me," Wanda enthused. "Hell, I won't never have to wash my pussy. Just let it get all stanked up and then have Les girl to clean it. Haw, haw, haw."

    Lester stood there in garter belt and stockings, his bottom still bright pink, make-up on and lips smeared, hair mussed but still recognizably feminine. His narrow shoulders sagged. He began to cry... just like a girl.

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