1. In order to comment on a story, you must give it a rating first. This is done to keep the story thread itself nice and clean. We have some changes coming that will provide a better format for commenting, but in the meantime please rate and comment, authors love feedback!
    Dismiss Notice

. His Perfect Life

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Throne, Jan 27, 2010.

  1. Throne

    Throne Well-Known Member Author!

    "Dicky!" Loretta shouted. "Get in here. Right now!"

    The short, slender, middle-aged man rushed to answer his wife's imperious command. He was naked, his longish hair pulled back into a miniature ponytail, and his penis encased in a snug chastity tube. He stood before her, trying not to tremble. She put her hands on her swelling hips and glared down at him from her superior height. Loretta's voluptuous figure was contained by a tight red dress that showed plenty of cleavage and leg. She had on cream-colored stockings and crimson shoes with tall, stacked heels. Her long, naturally wavy, auburn hair fell freely over her bare shoulders.

    "You little twit," she said with a sneer in her voice. "I can't believe you haven't finished cleaning the Pleasure Room. You know I have a date coming over soon."

    "Yes, dear. I'm sorry, dear." As he peered up at her there was adoration in his pale blue eyes. He felt so fortunate to be married to such a masterpiece of womanhood. At the same time, he lived in perpetual fear because she was so mean to him, so demanding, and so unfaithful. "It's done now. I was just packing my cleaning things. I didn't mean to upset you."

    "Ha! You take pleasure in annoying me. Don't bother to deny it. Now bend over and put your forearms on the seat of that ladderback chair. That's it, with your cute little bottom sticking out. Those plump cheeks are a perfect target for me to take out my anger on. You have to expect that when you intentionally irritate me."

    "Yes, darling," he told her in a small voice as he reluctantly assumed the familiar position. Richard -- Dicky to his wife -- knew the futility of arguing with her. He had earned his punishment, if only in her mind, and would have to accept it. As he held himself still he asked, "Is this all right, love?"

    She sighed loudly. "It will have to do. I can't waste all my time trying to make you understand the few simple rules you force me to maintain." She went to an umbrella stand which held no umbrellas but plenty of instruments suited to punishing his backside. "I think this time I'll use -- " She paused for effect. " -- the new rattan cane."

    Richard closed his eyes and tried not to sob. This was going to hurt terribly. He swallowed, found his voice, and said, "Thank you, sweetheart. That's a good choice. I'm sure it will help me to try harder in the future."

    "I hope so," she answered irritably. "I'm so tired of your poor behavior." The fingers of her right hand gripped one end of the four foot length firmly. She knew it would leave bruises and weals for several days, which was her intention. She wanted her lover to see the damage she did to poor little Dicky. After an experimental swing through empty air she declared, "I think a proper number of strokes would be... three? four? No, six should be just right."

    Loretta slashed the cane through the air above her target, feeling its weight and balance. She nodded to herself approvingly. It was an extra treat that she had purchased it, and several other items to use on her husband, with a bonus he had received from his boss, Mr. Winstone. She smiled at the memory of how sad Richard had looked when he came home and she plucked the check out of his fingers. He just never fully accepted that she controlled the money, along with everything else in his life. He still imagined he could win her love.

    Richard cringed and managed not to whimper. He had heard how painful the rattan could be. It was used sometimes on schoolboys, as his wife had mentioned when she got it. That fact added to his feeling of being a youthful miscreant who suffered under the hands of an adult woman. In reality she was only three years his senior, but she never missed a chance to make him feel like a helpless boy in her presence. Loretta tapped his bum lightly with the cane, deciding where her first blow should fall. Then, while he thought he still had time before she struck, she drew back her arm and cracked him hard across both buttocks. He howled and tried unsuccessfully to blink back tears. She let him catch his breath before landing a second wicked blow. He was weeping freely, unable to stop. Then she followed with the third and fourth, close together to again catch him off guard. He cried piteously for several minutes. She spent the time admiring the quartet of angry red lines she had left on his tender cheeks. Then, telling him before she delivered each of them, she gave the final two. Her warnings had the effect of making him tense up, which added to his pain. Loretta was an expert as corporeal punishment, both its physical and psychological aspects.

    After being made to remain in that shameful, exposed position for several extra minutes while she enjoyed an expensive imported cigarette, he was at last allowed to straighten up. She said she hoped he had learned his lesson.

    Still not sure what that lesson had been, he tearfully apologized, "I'm sorry I acted that way. I'll try very hard not to do it again."

    "You can show me how sincere you are by behaving while my lover is here. Now it's time for you to help me get ready for him. Let's do my shower first. Go start the water."

    "Yes, sweetness," he said, trying not to let his suffering affect his voice. "I'll try to get the temperature just right this time."

    She smiled at the sight of his beaten bottom as he left the room. It was such a pleasure to have a well-trained spouse. She loved belittling him, hurting him, teasing him with her body. Most of all, however, she loved cheating on him.

    In the bathroom she had him undress her. Then she stepped into the shower, letting the soothingly warm water run over her full contours. He stepped in behind her, marvelling at her gorgeous body and how exciting it was when wet. Richard took the bar of soap and lathered his small hands, then began rubbing her back. She stretched her neck and rolled her smooth shoulders as he worked his way lower. The trembling husband's dick strained toward and erection that it could not achieve inside its confinement. He sank to his knees to soap up her wide protruding ass, its glistening roundness directly in front of his longing eyes. Then he moved lower, generously lathering her heavy thighs, his balls aching with frustrated need. She turned around to rinse her back and he leaned away from her, afraid that he might accidently make some contact that would irritate her. She stepped out of the front of the shower and left him to shut off the taps. He then exited and snatched a large towel from the bar so he could begin drying her. Feeling his wife's body through the material added to his already overwhelming stimulation. When she decided she was dry enough, Loretta simply walked away, leaving him there with the towel in his hands. He rehung it to dry and hurried after her.

    On the way to her bedroom he thought about his job. His boss, Mr. Winstone, had given him extra work to finish at home and he didn't have time to get to it, not on one of his wife's date nights. He tried not to think about that as he caught up with her, opened her powder box, and began lightly dusting her with a large powderpuff.

    "Isn't that funny?" she mused. "A powderpuff using a powderpuff." As she laughed he chuckled lightly, scared that his response would be too slight or too extreme. He was always in danger of upsetting her.

    Loretta dressed herself while he stood and watched hungrily, his backside throbbing from the effects of her cane. She put on crotchless, butter-colored panties and then slid creamy-white stockings up her legs, hooked on a garterbelt, and clipped the stockingtops with half a dozen garters. Her lover was always aroused by her choices of exotic lingerie. She donned a front-fastening bra with cut-outs at the end of each voluminous cup. Richard bit his lips to keep himself from whimpering. She then slipped into a rather chaste white blouse and put on a pleated, charcol grey skirt. Her shoes were black, with squared toes and stacked heels. The final effect was conservative on the outside though wildly erotic underneath. Then she arranged her hair into a bun and applied make-up that was only slightly overstated, continuing the sedate but sexy image.

    As she fastened a brooch to her blouse and selected hoop earrings, Richard heard a car pull up out front. She left her wedding band on, as always, a symbol of how arrogantly she violated their marriage vows. He scurried to the front door and waited. Moments later a loud knock sounded and Richard swung the door inward. There stood Loretta's lover, tall and broadshouldered. He sneered at the cowering husband, put one large hand around the front of Richard's neck in a choking grip, and marched him backward into the house, slamming the door behind.

    "You little wimp," the powerful man said. "I ought to knock you on your sissy ass right now." Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. "But if I did that, who would run and fetch for us? Right?"

    "Yes, Sir," Richard managed to say in a trembling voice.

    "So move it, Dicky, and bring us a bottle of wine. You DID remember to buy that wine I told you about, and put it in to chill, didn't you?"

    "I did," he whispered meekly. "I'll go and get it right away, Sir."

    As Richard turned away he heard another laugh, this one wildly amused. "Damn it, boy, she really smacked your ass, didn't she?"

    "She used the new rattan cane, Sir. The one you recommended."

    Richard took the wine, two glasses and a corkscrew, on a silver tray, to the Pleasure Room. It had been his den when they got married but Loretta had gotten it made over right away. There was a huge bed in the middle, a couch and two wingback chairs along the side walls, and a wardrobe in the corner. He set the tray on a low table and held out the corkscrew to his wife's stud. Richard couldn't be trusted to open a bottle competently. He had to wait, however, as the lovers remained locked in a passionate embrace, kissing deeply, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. He remembered the day he had signed the house -- his house -- over to his wife.

    Loretta purred, "Ohhhh, Bull, I love the way you touch me."

    Bull -- as she called him -- replied, "No real man could keep his hands off your fat ass and those big tits."

    Richard cringed inwardly. He hated to hear his wife talked to that way, though she loved it. After a few more minutes Bull took the corkscrew and opened the bottle effortlessly. Richard was allowed to pour them two glasses of French pinot noir. There was nothing for him to drink. Loretta was very strict about his diet. He might be permitted some warm milk before his early bedtime or else tomorrow morning. Then the pair began to undress each other. When Bull got her outerwear off and took a look at Loretta's lingerie he grew feverishly excited. There was an impressive bulge in the front of his pants. She rubbed her body against it and then sank to her knees and opened his pants, to begin worshipping his rampant member, all nine thick inches of it, with her eager mouth.

    They stopped to sample the wine, then climbed onto the satin sheets and laid alongside each other. Richard had to stand by and watch as they fondled and kissed. Bull didn't bother to remove any of her underthings. He put his muscular body between her spread thighs and placed the head of his huge cock against the lips of her pussy. She told him how wet their foreplay had gotten her. The suffering husband let slip a whimper as his wife was penetrated by inch after inch of man-meat, until her lover was buried inside her up to his heavy balls. Then Bull began to pump, at first slowly, gradually building up speed. He had extreme staying power and kept at it tirelessly. She writhed under him, meeting his downstrokes with her own upthrusts.

    "Slam me," she insisted breathily. "Don't slow down, you bastard. Let my worthless husband see what a real man does for me. Show him why all he's allowed to do is use his mouth down there."

    "No problem, baby. I could do this all night long. I love the way you turn into a total slut as soon as I start drilling you."

    They went on like that, encouraging each other and insulting Richard, for over a half hour. Bull mouthed her exposed nipples. Loretta had a loud, quaking orgasm. Ten minutes later she enjoyed a second one, with Bull at last letting himself finish. The two of them continued furiously until they were sated, and then slowly drew apart. As Bull lay alongside her, Richard suffered the knowledge of what was to come.

    His wife took a long sip of the dark earthy wine and then told him, "Time for your fun, Dicky. Get your face between my thighs and start cleaning up that huge mess Bull left for you. And don't forget to thank him... for everything."

    "Yes, Ma'am," she said in a small voice as he got up on the bed and put himself where she wanted him. To Bull he said, "Thank you, Sir, for having sex with my wife. I have a tiny dick and can't keep from cumming as soon as I start. I'm very grateful that you take care of her in bed." He swallowed, hating even more the rest of what he had to say. "And thank you, Sir, for pumping her full of your thick salty spunk. I love to lap it all up."

    He paused in case one of them wanted to make him humiliate himself further with words. But they were ready for him to commit the worst self-degradation of all. Richard got his mouth directly in front of his wife's overflowing slit and, starting at the bottom, took a look lick, gathering their mixed sexual fluids on his tongue and taking them into his mouth. His throat constricted as he made himself swallow. After that he scooped out another generous helping from directly inside her pussy and got that down as well. He began to flick her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and heard her sigh in response.

    "You know," she said to Bull. "After two hard, deep orgasms from your battering ram of a cock, I always enjoy having my pussy pampered by Dicky's soft, obedient tongue, and knowing that he's lapping up and eating all that slimey cream you put into me. The climaxes I get from my husband are mild, a real contrast from the way you make me explode."

    "That's good, baby," Bull told her. "And I know you get off on turning him into your weakling clean-up boy after he has to watch us screw like a couple of animals. It's a good way to remind him of where his place is in this house."

    "Yeah -- right where he is now." She moaned softly as Richard began to coax her toward a finale.

    The submissive husband was forbidden to rush so he had to take his time, prolonging the indignity of cleaning up after Bull. The lovers turned their faces toward each other and shared a deep, unhurried kiss. They whispered soft passionate words. Loretta squeezed her fleshy thighs against the sides of Richard's head and held them there as she arched her back slightly during a warm orgasm. Then she relaxed and eased her legs away from his cheeks. He kept stroking her with his tongue until she had drifted through a sweet descent. As she lay there in a comfortable afterglow he silently backed up, got off the bed, and picked up the tray with the wine bottle on it.

    An hour later Bull was leaving. Loretta sent Richard, still naked, the taste of their sex still in his mouth, to get a cardboard carton that was stashed in a corner of the basement behind the heater. He struggled up the steps with the heavy box.

    "There you go, Bull," Loretta said. "You mentioned you were going to be doing some practice shooting with that new rifle I bought you this weekend. The box is full of Dicky's old golf trophies from college. I made him put them away when we moved in years ago. Golf isn't even a real sport. He hit a little white ball around on the grass while you were being a star quarterback. Anyway, you can have fun blasting them to bits."

    Richard's shoulders sagged at the revelation of what he was losing. Those trophies were one of the few connections remaining to his former life, his past happiness, and any image he still held of himself as worthwhile in any way. He felt sick but didn't dare say one word.

    "Hey, Dicky," laughed Bull. "Don't worry. I'll bring you back a few pieces so you'll always have something to remind you of what we did with your stupid trophies."

    The happy couple hugged and exchanged a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. Then Bull turned toward Richard.

    "See you tomorrow at the office, loser."

    "Yes Sir," the cuckold answered dutifully. "I'll see you tomorrow -- Mr. Winstone."

    Loretta smiled. Her husband had the perfect life. Not perfect for him but perfect for her and her cruel need to see him hurt, disgraced, and kept in a state of shame and fear.
    Newmantoplease likes this.
Rate this thread:

Share This Page