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. Dating like a bitch

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Lutheran Maid, Oct 12, 2017.

. Dating like a bitch 4.3 5 3votes
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  1. Lutheran Maid

    Lutheran Maid Well-Known Member Author!

    We're up in the master bedroom. Carrie has set my daughter's clothes for the evening out on the bed. The stuff, honest, it has cost me the best part of five grand. Four thousand on a rolex, another five hundred on the lingerie and the tight black cocktail dress. The heels, stockings and the choker to go around her pretty throat, they made up the rest of the bill. Carrie laughs and tugs my arm.

    'It's not so bad Ian, you already bough Emma the prada handbag for her birthday didn't you!'

    Fuck it. Fuck it I tell you. Emma is just nineteen. She is way too young to be touting this sort of gear around town on a Saturday night. But this is the sort of look that black bastards like. They like their white women expensive looking. They like them dressed designer, wearing the sort of gear that signals what spoiled little bitches they all are. It's the same sort of stuff that Carrie wears as we speak. She is sporting a gold Cartier on her wrist that cost near six grand alone. Her leather skirt is from Italy, the high heels from a designer who surname rhymes with shoe. Carrie is my second wife. The first left me. Carrie took over when she saw what a neatly malleable wreck i was back then. I was struggling to keep my daughter in my life at that time. Emma rather sided with my ex. I'd fucked up on my career. I'd gone for money rather than profession prestige. My work was vulgar work and my ex didn't approve. You can have all the money in the world and still be judged like you're shit. Then Carrie had come along, from New Zealand. A pretty, very slender model in her late twenties. She was out of a first marriage too. Pasty Ralph hadn't managed to cope with the fact that she fucked Maori. Bigger blokes. The sort that battered opposition. Carrie had found a taste for a certain sort of man, a masculine man, so when she found confidence wrecked me, she reckoned I might be ready to agree her terms.

    'When Emma comes up, you will help prepare her' Carrie said firmly.

    I winced. It was one thing dressing my wife for her dates with Lloyd, but quite another dressing my daughter to date some fucking black lothario mate of his. This was way too intimate. For one thing it showed Emm just how weak I really was in front of Carrie. OK my daughter knew that Carrie had a boyfriend, but I rather doubted she understood the deep and complex relationship that followed for Carrie and I. However obvious it was that Carrie wore the pants in our relationship, I wasn't sure whether Emma knew everything.

    'Lloyd wants you treating Emma as a little mistress Ian, and I don't think you want to disappoint him do you?' Carrie warned, eyeing me carefully.

    It humiliated me. I utterly humiliated me. Lloyd had told me in front of Carrie. Emm was going to be taught to live like a little bitch. I was going to spoil her rotten and then her new man Luther the same way too. Luther and Lloyd would come and go at our house as they pleased. I would wait on their every whim. I remember how I blanched at that. He guessed what it was all about.

    'No incest man, naw, you no worry about that. But you gonna suck Luther's cock like mine and Miss Emma she gonna see that, understood?'

    Carrie pulled my face around to hers.

    'I'm bringing Emma up now…I expect enthusiasm, understood?' she said sharply.

    I suppose I waited five minutes and no more. Five minutes when I wondered about throwing myself out of the window. Five minutes when I wondered about what Emma had already told my ex about how daddy was turning out with Carrie. There had been that time when I realised that Carrie had first introduced my daughter to Luther. Another black dude with an attitude problem. I glanced at his picture on her mobile phone, he was dressed in an open necked white shirt and he smiled languidly at the camera. A proper fucking ebony prince. I had said, no…no way, was she to date this guy and Carrie had cut me down in front of Emma. There was going to be no racism in this house. There was going to be no jingoism. Luther was a fine man, like Lloyd. It was better, natural, right, that we all settled down to the change. It was high time to correct the wrongs of the past. I'd glanced at Emma then and she wasn't shocked by Carrie's little speech. It was probably PC wasn't it? Her generation, correcting ours, you know, the older lot. Anyway, she and Luther had bantered some on the phone, through snap chat and the like. She wanted to go out with Luther.

    Emma appeared in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a T shirt. She has long blonde hair and her makeup, well her makeup makes her look early twenties or something. She looks at me uncertainly. OK, OK Carrie has said that this is 'one of our things' but having your dad help dress you for a date? Carrie breezes in beside her and indicates the expensive things on the bed. She glances at me.

    'I wanted you to have a great night love…I wanted this and all the next nights to be just perfect' I said with a smile.

    Emma checks out the things on the bed, the labels and stuff. You can see her eyes widen.

    'Whatever you or Luther want sweet heart, Ian will buy for you' Carrie asserted firmly. 'You must learn to accept privilege, it is what is owed to you by weaker men.'

    I couldn't read Emm's expression then. May be it was because Carrie had got to her earlier. May be it was because she had somehow convinced Emma that some men really did deserve to be treated as chattels. At any rate, Emma wasn't surprised. She wasn't surprised by the way in which Carrie referred to me.

    'Ian will do your nails sweetie, ' said Carrie, 'he'll turn away whilst you change into the new things.'

    It felt like some sort of parlour game. I was to turn around and close my eyes and then I suppose count to one hundred. I listened to the rustles as Emma discarded the jeans and donned the lingerie and the cocktail dress. Carrie was fussing about, assisting my daughter to look just so in the new things.

    'It's so exciting darling… daddy accepts the new lifestyle. He accepts that a girl just should date black boys. That's right isn't it Ian?'

    I gulp. Fuck it. 'Yes'.

    I can feel my face reddening. Carrie presses on though.

    'Ian accepts that Lloyd is the man of the house, just as you supposed Emm darling. It's comfortable now. Daddy has stopped fighting it. If you really like Lloyd that much too, then he will show the proper respect to him as well.'

    I shudder at the words.

    'What we said that time over coffee sweetie, i mean it. I think that women have to control today. We decide who fathers children. We decide who will be accepted in the home. It's the job of people like Ian to support that isn't it Ian?'

    I sway on my feet. Fuck no. Please no! Carrie waits.

    'Yes' I concede.

    'So when you come to visit this house Lloyd and i occupy this bedroom, and daddy sleeps in the small bedroom down the corridor.'

    I grip the edge of the dresser. i feel feint. i feel sick. Then…then I'm told to turn around.

    When I turn about i am confronted by a sophisticated young woman, dressed in black, with seamed stockings and the expensive heels making her two inches taller. Her blonde hair has been brushed to a lustre and the rolex hangs chic on her wrist. I can smell expensive perfume and I see the up market choker about her throat. Frankly, Emma floors me. She looks so smart. She looks so much more worldly.

    'What do you see in his face?' Carrie asked her teasingly.

    Emma paused. 'Awe…he's stunned' my daughter whispered.

    'Exactly!' said Carrie, 'that is what clothes, grooming, jewellery do for a woman. It puts you above the aspirations of men like Ian. He admires you. Young men, white boys your age, they are going to worship you. But you are going with Luther right?'

    'Yes' said Emma dreamily. I could see it in her face. The shift of an attitude. A reappraisal. My daughter saw me differently now.

    'Sex isn't nice Emm sweet, it is nasty. But that is how the world is, in this realm. There are men who can look and ache and men with the confidence to take. Do you understand?'

    Emma understood Carrie completely. She seated herself on the vanity stool and held out a hand at Carrie's instruction.

    'There's so many exciting prospects sweetie. May be you marry Luther and you take on a helper like Ian here. There won't be a shortage of interest i promise, just as long as you show the right attitude. Treat them mean, it is what a white boy understands. '

    I start to paint Emma's finger nails. My hands are shaking, the brush charged with bright red lacquer quivering.

    'Don't worry about him, ' Carrie coaxed, 'if he makes a mess, make him do it again. Have you got your handbag sorted?'

    Emma thinks that she has. I watch Carrie rummage through it. The pack of sheaths are thrown out.

    'Black guys don't wear sheaths darling. They don't..' explained Carrie, 'in any case Lloyd vouches for Luther, he is a brother. He's clean and wanting 'his woman'. This has such a sweet future Emm darling'.

    Emma nods. You can see that she has nerves, but there is excitement there as well. There has been so many sexy things said. The evening is all planned.

    Carrie looks down at Emma's first painted set of finger nails. She frowns and glances at me.

    'Do it properly' Emma whispers to me, 'do it again'.

    She looks into my eyes and i can't look away. Carrie has got to her. She's planted the fucking seed. The arrogant fucking seed. I blush and clean her fingers off, starting again and biting my tongue as i concentrate on the brush strokes.

    'Ian won't mind if you want to bring Luther back to sleep over will you Ian?' Carrie soothed.

    It's like a poker has been stuck in my side. Black Luther poking my daughter in one bedroom and Lloyd riding my wife in the master bedroom. I imagine one or other of the woman screaming under the relentless thrusting of a lover. It sickens me.

    'No…..of course not….' I lie.

    Emma glances at Carrie. Yes, look, he does as he is told.

    'I like the Rolex' ventured Emma as i finished her first hand. Carrie smiles.

    'Good' I offer.

    'Why did you give it to me?' Emma asked.

    Was that a planted question? It sounded so fucking Carrie.

    'Because you deserve it. I want everything to be perfect' I answer, checking Carrie's expression.

    'With Luther…with me and Luther?' Emma checked.

    Carrie fixed me with a stare.

    'Yes' I said, shivering discretely beneath my shirt. Little bitch.

    'Show me the tattoo Carrie, the one you spoke about' Emma continued turning her gaze back to my wife.

    Carrie unzipped the leather skirt and with a little shuffling, hitched up the hem. There, just about her neatly shaven pubes, alongside the strand of material that was her thong, the queen of spades emblem.

    'Only black guys?' whispered Emma.

    'Only black guys' Carrie confirmed.

    Emma nodded. It was like she was suddenly at peace with the argument. if it had been tossed around, if it had been debated in conversations with my wife, then the decision was now made.

    I finished Emma's fingers and the painting passed muster. Emma signalled OK with a dismissive look.

    'Shall I show you what black guys expect weak white men to do?' asked Carrie.


    Emma paused, 'OK!'

    Carrie fixed me with a look. It was the look that admitted no dissent. I shuddered. I did. Emma caught my reaction and waited, letting her finger nails dry.

    'Do as you're told' said Carrie.

    I hesitated glancing at them both. Emma recrossed her legs and she looked sternly in my direction too.

    I knelt. Down onto the carpet and not bearing to look up at their faces, i moved forward. My mouth an inch or two now from Carrie's sex. I tried not to inhale. i tried to avoid it. I knew what would happen. The terrible need would sweep over me. Then the moment came…i had to breath and with the first inhalation the shame inside was breached. i pleasured my mistress, licking at her sex.

    'Lloyd fucks you and he licks' Emma whispered.

    'Yes' whispered Carrie in turn.

    'Lloyd makes him lick you?'

    Carrie tensed with the pleasure of my tonguing.

    'He needs to lick me…it becomes…..a habit.'

    'It's so orderly….a man to do what you want, the way you want it…' breathed Emma.

    'Yes' moaned Carrie.

    Emma paused. The pause lingered like a sensuous passage of music.

    'Does Lloyd make him suck cock?'

    Another pause. I want to die.


    'Your pussy, its where two men meet, differently….one little, one big…..'

    'Yes…it's instinctive. Yes…if you go with Luther, you may want a white boy…for this….just for this…'

    'Because he's not good enough for anything else?' Emma asked. Her eyes widened.

    'Yes' admitted Carrie.

    I am pushed away. My mistress does not want a climax, not now. There is control to be shown. But you may, when you chose, she assures Emma of that. I watch Carrie re arrange her clothes and the two women stand. It is time for Carrie to drive Emma down town to meet Luther and Lloyd. They will spend the evening together. May be they will come back. May be. Emma looks back at me as I wait there, kneeling on the carpet, my mouth wet with adoration.

    'Don't worry about him, he will get up when we leave……not before' said Carrie.

    Emma nodded.
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