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. Husband Run Down and Humiliated

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Lutheran Maid, May 19, 2017.

. Husband Run Down and Humiliated 4.5 5 6votes
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  1. Lutheran Maid

    Lutheran Maid Well-Known Member Author!

    All is fair in love and war….so let's explore fair then fucker!

    I suppose most people read 'fair' in this saying as meaning anything goes. There are no morals when it comes to sex. I think that is true. I don't want there to be. I don't want the constraints of a civil, a prissy society to pc everything that I want as regards my body. As a woman I want to be pursued, fought over, won, dominated and impregnated. I don't want half measures. I wonder how many women, deep down really do? The feminists may tell us otherwise, but i know that there is an instinct brain inside everyone of my sisters, that responds to need, especially those relating to dominant men. Fair though has two meanings. Fair is not only about customs, habits, sense of what is right, it is also about beauty. Carl is beautiful. He is fair. In fact he is the most wonderful man to walk this earth. I can't stop thinking about him, touching myself, even when I write.

    John and I met Carl on a Danube river cruise. He was meant to have come on holiday with a girlfriend and she had developed some medical complaint that meant he came alone. We shared a dining table with him and he was charming. There is nothing more appealing than a black guy dressed in a crisp white, open necked shirt and smartly pressed chinos. Carl flirted with me on the first night. It was like John didn't count. I had the right figure, I was on holiday, so i was fair game. For a second, i promise you, no more, I wondered whether Carl should be quite so direct. He wanted to talk to me and he cut John out. I watched my husband's head go down and wince as i smiled and laughed at what Carl told me. I watched him start to watch Carl, the way he looked at me and moved around the boat. There was a grudging respect starting to show and it produced the most alarming and delicious sensations inside of me. John was submitting to a dominant male. He was deferring to the more powerful man. I felt wet between my legs. I did. I felt aroused, seeing the way that Carl swept John aside and engaged me in a series of conversations.

    'Are you going on the Strauss city tour tomorrow?' Carl asked me.

    We were and I told him so.

    'Send him alone' Carl said, glancing at John. It was a stunning suggestion. The inference was that Carl wanted me for himself, alone on the boat. I pictured what that meant and yes it involved being fucked in our state room.

    Carl turned to John and said darkly, 'Emma won't be coming, you will do the tour, take the pics on your own'.

    It was like hitting John in the face. You don't count. You are worthless. Carl said it to him in front of me and in front of our friend Janice. You could see that it completely robbed John of any dignity. He spluttered and looked to me for support. A terrible certainty seized me. I wasn't going to help him. I wanted Carl. No, even worse than that, I wanted Carl to humiliate him. Here I was a 31 year old woman, wanting my 26 year old black suitor, to humiliate my husband. Janice stepped in. John was to join she and her husband Roger. It would cheer Roger up no end; he hated classical music.

    After Janice had drifted off and taken John for a drink at the bar, I said to Carl,

    'You humiliated him'

    He checked my expression, his lovely green eyes measuring me.

    'Yes'

    'Why?' I asked. I suppose that i guessed this. Because he wanted me. The thought thrilled me.

    'Because I enjoy it' he said quietly.

    I frowned.

    'Because I enjoy pushing a weak male aside in pursuit of a woman I want. Because I want him held down whilst i enjoy her. Because I want you to enjoy that too.'

    I should have slapped his face. But I didn't. I let him kiss me, slowly, sensuously, there up the deck as we slid down river and as my husband was plied with drinks as consolation.

    We went back then to Carl's state room. It was a large and expensive one. Carl did business in London, where we lived too. He unbuttoned my blouse and ran his hands over my breasts. He felt my nipples as they hardened. His hand slipped downwards and between my legs. My skirt was pushed up and he felt me. Yes, ah yeah, I was wet. Much as he thought. I was pushed back on the bed and told to show him 'my cunt'. So I pulled off my panties, i pulled up my skirt and i parted my legs. I pulled open my pussy lips to show him the pink interior. Somewhere else on the boat, John was being consoled with whisky cocktails. Someplace else John had his nose out of joint. Carl peeled trousers and briefs away from his manhood. It was a brutal, muscular looking thing with an insouciant upward curve. He pushed it bare inside me and I gasped. I gasped loud, my whole body contorting against him. I had to 'fucking take it' so my hands were pinned above my head. Carl pumped into me. I convulsed and writhed against him. My orgasm terrified me. it was so hard, so urgent, so quick. 'You'll learn to ride it bitch' he snarled and ejaculated. I felt the flood of it, his cock erupting spunk into me.

    I felt breathless by the time Carl had finished with me. My hair was out of place, my face flushed. I looked in the mirror and felt……I felt exultant. It had been shocking, terrifying, no, it had been delicious.

    'I won't be letting up on him, your husband,' Carl said, 'the quicker he understands he has been run down and beaten, the better'.

    'Of course' i whispered mesmerised. I hadn't a clue exactly what Carl meant. But i knew that he was determined.

    'We'll go and find him… now' Carl insisted.

    John was in one of the lounges listening to the sort of live piano music that he associated with dull hotels. He had a whisky cocktail in front of him and was now alone. He looked down in the dumps. Carl took my hand as we approached him and my husband noticed in an instant. John looked straight at me and rehearsed the phrase. All is fair in… You know. He knew. Carl had already fucked me. I love John, I do, but I can't tell you the frisson of that moment. The feeling I had as one man dominated another. If Carl had hit John I wouldn't have minded. i was in that state of mind. I wanted Carl to completely rule John.

    'Take the whisky back to the bar and order yourself a soft drink' Carl told him firmly.

    Carl has such a dark and brooding base voice. God!

    John looked at him with a fuck off expression on his face. He looked like a wounded animal.

    'Please do as I told you or I will hurt you'

    John resisted.

    The movement of Carl's hands beneath the table then was electric. I barely saw them move but he grabbed John's testicles and twisted. How John never leapt out of his seat I will never know. He stifled the yelp and the piano music tinkled on.

    'You've drunk too much, go and do as you are told' Carl ordered. My heart raced. It was so sexy.

    We watched John follow orders. I stared at Carl. He was such a surprising man.

    When John got back with his soft drink, Carl said,

    'I'm spending time with Emma this holiday, you will attend us.'

    Nothing about 'your wife', I was Emma. I was myself. I was a woman worthy of conquest. I stared now at John. My husband was pulling some strange faces. i think his testicles were pretty sore.

    'OK' he conceded, shifting uncomfortably.

    'I will be seeing Emm when we get back to London too. You understand?' A brooding, rather nasty look went John's way.

    'Yes!' John snapped, his voice thinner, more plaintiff than normal.

    'Finish the coke and come back to the stateroom' he told John and kissed me.

    Carl was daring John to fight back. He was daring him to make a scene. How in god's name he assessed my husband in an instant I don't know. But he knew that John wasn't good enough to contest him. I knew that he wasn't too. John was beaten and easily. I watched John finish his drink and then the three of us made our way to our stateroom. John was made to walk in front of us, unsteadily as the boat shifted and he probably rued his whisky. Carl held my hand as we walked. We passed Janice and she glanced at John. You could see that she knew he had capitulated. Men fight, some aren't equipped to. Some aren't equal to the contest. Some fall and are then dragged in a direction the dominant male directs. You don't just fail, you falter and submit, over and over and over again. The idea hit me as we walked. This is what that phrase really meant.

    John swiped the door key and went into the stateroom ahead of us. He went over to the panoramic window and drew the lace curtains closed, ashamed at what was unfolding. Carl was assessing him, moment by moment. Any resistance and in the privacy of this room, he would hit him.

    'Get on your fucking knees' Carl snapped. it was a brutal order. I watched John do as Carl instructed. this must have been like a blitzkrieg to John. A sudden and complete domination. He had no will to resist nor the mental strength to start planning a repost. Carl walked across to him and with his strong hand lifted John's face upwards, gripping him by the jaw. By the way that John winced you could see that he was gripping it. My husband was being bent to a superior will.

    'You respect things and I won't give you a hiding. You resist and you won't believe how nasty things can get.'

    I was beckoned to Carl's side. I went, my hands trembling. I needed to hold his. To feel his strength, his certainty. There were no rules here, only his. Only his utterly masculine, broody and aggressive demeanour.

    'Show him what we did' Carl growled.

    Carl had charge of me too. God! I pulled up the hem of my skirt. I showed John my copiously filled sex. When I looked down I could see congealed spunk everywhere. I looked at it and my nipples stiffened. Dear God, it was just so sexy, so wanton. I felt a bitch.

    'You know what to do' Carl ordered. Did he? Apparently so. This is at base what humans are, when instincts have charge. John sniffed and then licked my sex. I let him. Feeling his wet tongue move against my pussy made me shake. Carl took my free hand. He kissed me for reassurance while my husband licked me. Out through the lace draped window the lights of the Austrian river bank slipped by. There was the gentle sound of the river pushing us on. John's touch was light. His licking deferential rather than pressed on. Carl watched him. There would come a time when he had to eat my used cunt properly, but right then this was about right. My husband was licking my cunt like a penitent.

    Carl took out his cock. He eased it from his chinos. I could see the smeary mess of ejaculate all over the glans. His crown hung on the end like a massive mushroom head, ready to open into something huge. When he told my husband to lick that too, I gasped. He wouldn't! He couldn't. I trembled looking down there.

    'There, that's nice, good boy' soothed Carl when my husband actually did.

    I watched JOHN LICK CARL'S COCK.

    I stared at them as he did it, my mouth open in surprise.

    'He'll be fine, he'll learn' Carl assured me and kissed me again. I wanted that kiss. I wanted it to deepen. I wanted to neck with him, but John was in the way. So my husband was pushed rudely aside and ended up in a heap in the corner of the room. Carl lifted me onto the bed and he pushed up my skirt once more. I looked across at John, shrunken, bettered, humiliated in the corner and pulled open my pussy lips for Carl as i had recently been taught.
     
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