My wife Bella is a gorgeous full-figured woman, with long auburn hair. Other guys eye her enviously and probably imagine I have a terrific sex life with her. Well, I do have what I want in that department but it's not what they think. You see, I am a willing cuckold. Just the thought of my stunning wife cheating drives me wild with arousal. She has made many of my cuckold dreams come true by flirting with men, dancing with them and pressing herself very firmly against them, and starting several years ago, even going to bed with them.
I was in submissive heaven. It thrilled me that she got so much satisfaction from commiting infidelity. When she declared that I could no longer have sex with her, I was a bit taken aback. Though I liked that as a make-believe scenario, I hadn't wanted it to become a reality. I was then limited to providing her with oral service. She delighted in teasing me to the point of distraction and then leaving me frustrated. On the occasions when she did allow me to finish, it was always in some humiliating way. One of favorites was to have me get into the missionary position with her while she toyed with my nipples. I was allowed to touch the warm moistness of her pussy with the tip of my cock but that was the limit. Then I had to stay that way and wank myself until I spurted all over her mound, after which it was my job to lick up the mess I made and then keep going until I gave her an orgasm.
Bella dressed extra sexy around the house. Sometimes she made me stay naked, or else limited me to wearing panties and an occasional girdle. I had been pushed past my former limits and come to accept it. But she wanted more. She brought one of her dates home, making me hide in the bedroom closet while she had loud sex with him. By the time they were done and he had let himself out, I was a wreck from the mix of excitement, danger, and uncertainty. Was this too much for me? Before I could think about it she summoned me out of the closet and announced that it was time for me to slurp up the load of spunk that filled her pussy.
How far could she go? About six months after that she let herself be picked up by a guy called Chill. While they were in a bar she had someone take a picture of them with her phone, which she sent to me right away. He was a towering, broad-shouldered Black man and his large hand was on the swelling curve of her hip. I felt sick and dizzy when I saw it. She also sent me a text message saying that he was quite masterful and that she had agreed to submit to him.
When she got home that evening she was disheveled and smelled of sweat and sex. She snapped at me to get her clothes off. IJ was alarmed to see bite marks on her neck and breasts. She said he had made her promise that I would eat his sperm out of her. There was so much that it had also gotten all over her inner thighs. Bella went on about how she had met his every demand. It shook me up that she was ready to do whatever he wanted. But it was even more unsettling when she told me that I was expected to do the same. When I opened my mouth to say something she told me this deal was non-negotiable. I meekly accepted it, fearful of what was to come.
Several nights later I found out. Chill showed up at our home and immediatly acted like he was the King of the House, which I suppose was true. He bossed us both around and had me run and fetch snacks and drinks for him. Then he told me to strip down to my underwear, which was a pair of pale blue boxer shorts. He saw what a small bump my genitals made in the crotch and mocked me about my lack of 'goods'. Then, while relaxing in the recliner that used to be just for me, he had my wife get naked and sit on his lap. Chill proceeded to put his dark hands all over her while they kissed deeply and she pawed at his crotch.
When he made her kneel in front of him and open his pants so she could free his penis, I saw that he had every right to mock my inferior genital size. His member was huge and, as she lavished attention on it with her hands and mouth, it grew more and more. He wanted to get the sports news and scores, so she had to stay where she was, kissing his balls but not so much that it would overly distract him, for the next half hour. Then he took her to the bedroom, had me bring him a beer, and screwed her until she howled like an alleycat and wept from sheer ecstasy. I had to stand at the foot of the bed, bent forward, keeping my hands flat on the mattress, for the entire hour that they went at it. By the time they were done my ego was crushed and my back was sore. And then he made Bella use her mouth to clean their mixed sex fluids off his cock, which got him hard again, so that he shot a load down her throat.
After that he visited often. I was required to wear panties and sometimes a ribbon around my neck. My mind reeled with the extent of the changes that had occured. Once more I had been pushed past my limits. But Chill wasn't done with either of us. He ordered me to take my wife to a tattoo parlor and get her a Queen of Spades tat, right below her navel. And for me to get one on the same part of my body that said 'Shrimpdick'. Then he decreed that I had to buy hair remover and use it all over myself, so that I would be smooth and pink. After that, when I wore panties, I appeared even more unmanly.
Chill started making comments about how sexy I looked and even that I was turning him on. Surely he didn't expect me to... to... act like a girl for him. The next time he appeared he had brought a garter for me to wear around one hairless thigh. He had also decided that I should stop getting my hair cut. I grew very anxious about his intentions. But my wife loved what he was doing to me, even as he treated her like a slut and made her pose for lewd photos.
More indignities followed. I had to get laser treatments so that the removed body hair could never grow back. The lengthening hair on my head was trimmed and shaped into a more feminine style. I'm short and slender anyway, so after that I looked like a girly sissy. He made it worse by having me get a second tattoo, this one a pink heart high on one hip. If I wore bikini-cut panties, which he preferred, it was visible. He and Bella gloated at my loss of status and my increasingly wimpish look. As the weeks turned into months, however, I came to accept all those new disgraces. My cuckold nature had taken over and made me not only accept, but even crave, such extreme mistreatment.
I was in that cucky state of mind when Chill advanced me up to the next level. I guess I should say DOWN to the next level. The three of us were in the bedroom, with me in panties, neck ribbon and garter, my hair teased up and sprayed to make it even more femme, and for the first time my mouth colored with bright red lipstick.
Chill snarled at me, "Hey, boy, I'm ready to slam your wife's pussy. Get your face between her legs and make it nice and wet for me."
By then I was so intimidated, with my cuckold desires affecting my mind so much, that I did it without hesitating. He lay alongside her and kissed her hard on the mouth while I delivered a very different kind of kisses to her pussy. Once I had her prepped for his massive cock, he kicked me off the bed and spent almost 60 minutes hammering her, leaving her limp but happy. I had to lick his salty cum out of her. Afterwards I started to slide off the bed, expecting to be made to play with my little dick -- but not finish, of course -- or maybe just have to stand in the corner with my nose in the juncture of the walls.
Instead, he barked at me to get between is legs and taste the mess on his cock. I had never had my mouth anywhere near any of Bella's lovers' genitals. I wasn't gay. But Chill was not about to take 'no' for an answer. He sneered at me and I did as I was told. Bella got up on one elbow and watched, wide-eyed, as I tenatively tongued the bulbous head of his organ and then began cleaning the shaft. She rubbed his muscular arm and laughed at me.
My wife hissed, "Faggot. Faggy faggot. My husband is a queer. He's mouthing a real man's cock."
"Right," Chill said with smug satisfaction. "That makes him gay. Not me."
The big Black man got hard again and I had to give him a slow blowjob. My wife told me how to lick, suck, kiss nuzzle his rigid meat. When he was close to shooting, he made me hold just the knob in my mouth, running my tongue around the corona and sucking lightly, while my wife wrapped her white hand around his dark brown cock and stoked him. I couldn't stop myself from crying, one more sign of my weakness. They made it last as long as they could before he blasted his generous load. I wasn't allowed to swallow but had to show them how much there was on and under my tongue. Not until they had both had a good look was I allowed to gulp down all of his slime.
Since then there has been one more step. What was unexpected was that they let it be my choice. I was called into the bedroom, where they were lying side-by-side, nude and ready for a good lengthy fuck. Bella explained that our Black Master wanted to make me a complete bedroom sex-toy and, to do that, I would have to give up my balls. For a moment I couldn't even react. Chill said that it was my choice but, if I didn't do it, they might exclude me from their bedroom activities. My wife told me I had a week to decide.
I wrestled with it for several days. No guy wants to give up his testicals. That would mean virtually no sex drive. At the same time, it would make me the ultimate submissive, and a cuckold with no hope of every being anything else. I was surprised to find that I actually had to think about it. As the days passed I felt my cuckold-self doing the deciding for me. In the end I agreed and my wife made a phone call. They took me to a small clinic after its usual closing hour and I was given a local anesthetic. She wanted me to be awake and aware when my balls were taken. Chill reminded me that it had been my decision and asked me one last time if I wanted to turn back. I told him I didn't.
It was difficult to watch as my manhood was surgically taken away. After it was done they shared a celabratory kiss then went out for drinks. They returned a few hours later and I was allowed to leave. At home I recovered rapidly. It was odd to have not even a scrotum down there, just a flaccid penis that couldn't get hard. Bella informed me that I was only allowed to call my disabled organ a 'clitty'. If I used any other term I would be punished. It was odd to see my stunning wife showing off her figure and not to get stiff. At the same time, I did experience a powerful psychological reaction to it. I wanted to see her, to worship her, to submit to her... and him.
Before long I was their sex slave again. My body softened and Bella fed me extra calories to make me acquire a hint of curves. They bought me a corset and, when they put it on and laced it very tightly, it pushed up the excess tissue on my chest into twin mounds that approximated small boobs. That put Chill's urges into overdrive and he had me gobbling his cock even when he wasn't about to have sex with my wife.
I gained a few more pounds and he couldn't keep his hands off my newly plumped up rear end. Finally, one night when they were about to have sex, he changed his plans and made me kneel on the foot of the bed with my rump sticking out. Chill stood behind me and grabbed my bottom, using his thumbs to part my cheeks. Bella applied lube to my asshole and he pressed the end of his oversized cock against it. I began to weep like a frightened virgin on her wedding night.
Chill just chuckled and began to ease his tool into me, first the thick knob and then inch after inch of the long shaft. Once it was all the way in and his heavy balls were touching me, he began to pump with a slow rhythm. Gradually he picked up the tempo, while my wife got on the bed in front of me and locked her eyes with mine. I knew how long Chill could hold back before he let himself finish, and that I was probably in for a long session of banging.
Bella laid back and spread her legs. She pointed to her moist open pussy and told me to get my tongue busy. I lowered my face and in short order was eating out Bella while being pistoned by Chill. It went on and on until she had a loud climax, and then another, and finally they both finished at the same time. I knew I would never recover my male personality. I also understood that I had entered a new phase of my life and that, though it wouldn't have been true at any time before that, I now wanted everything to be the way it was. He made me thank him for taking my anal cherry. I had to call him Master Chill and would always address him as Master after that.
Since then that three-way scene has been repeated often. Can my mortification go even further? Will they exceed my limits again? I wouldn't have thought so but the last time they laced me into that corset and tightened it until I felt like I was being cut in half, with my chest flesh again turned into faux breasts, Chill said that it might be fun for them to get me small implants. That was upsetting enough, but then my wife got a devilish gleam in her dark eyes and said that if they were going to do it, why not go for the biggest size I could manage, something to give me at least a 36 inch bust and DD cups.
Chill laughed. He said if they did that, he knew some guys who wouldn't mind getting a shot at me, and that he could pimp my mouth out for good money. He described me getting titty-fucked, with my lips wrapped around the head of some guy's cock. Or maybe three johns lined up to use my face as a fuck-hole one after another. He didn't want anyone else using my ass -- that was his personal property -- but he suggested having him bung-bang me while one of his pals made my mouth into a cock socket.
So yes, they could push me even further. And like before, I don't want it to occur. But I know that, with my cuckold personality and how much they've changed me already, if my Black Master and my wife wanted it, I would accept and in time become addicted to whatever they did to me.
*********
I was in submissive heaven. It thrilled me that she got so much satisfaction from commiting infidelity. When she declared that I could no longer have sex with her, I was a bit taken aback. Though I liked that as a make-believe scenario, I hadn't wanted it to become a reality. I was then limited to providing her with oral service. She delighted in teasing me to the point of distraction and then leaving me frustrated. On the occasions when she did allow me to finish, it was always in some humiliating way. One of favorites was to have me get into the missionary position with her while she toyed with my nipples. I was allowed to touch the warm moistness of her pussy with the tip of my cock but that was the limit. Then I had to stay that way and wank myself until I spurted all over her mound, after which it was my job to lick up the mess I made and then keep going until I gave her an orgasm.
Bella dressed extra sexy around the house. Sometimes she made me stay naked, or else limited me to wearing panties and an occasional girdle. I had been pushed past my former limits and come to accept it. But she wanted more. She brought one of her dates home, making me hide in the bedroom closet while she had loud sex with him. By the time they were done and he had let himself out, I was a wreck from the mix of excitement, danger, and uncertainty. Was this too much for me? Before I could think about it she summoned me out of the closet and announced that it was time for me to slurp up the load of spunk that filled her pussy.
How far could she go? About six months after that she let herself be picked up by a guy called Chill. While they were in a bar she had someone take a picture of them with her phone, which she sent to me right away. He was a towering, broad-shouldered Black man and his large hand was on the swelling curve of her hip. I felt sick and dizzy when I saw it. She also sent me a text message saying that he was quite masterful and that she had agreed to submit to him.
When she got home that evening she was disheveled and smelled of sweat and sex. She snapped at me to get her clothes off. IJ was alarmed to see bite marks on her neck and breasts. She said he had made her promise that I would eat his sperm out of her. There was so much that it had also gotten all over her inner thighs. Bella went on about how she had met his every demand. It shook me up that she was ready to do whatever he wanted. But it was even more unsettling when she told me that I was expected to do the same. When I opened my mouth to say something she told me this deal was non-negotiable. I meekly accepted it, fearful of what was to come.
Several nights later I found out. Chill showed up at our home and immediatly acted like he was the King of the House, which I suppose was true. He bossed us both around and had me run and fetch snacks and drinks for him. Then he told me to strip down to my underwear, which was a pair of pale blue boxer shorts. He saw what a small bump my genitals made in the crotch and mocked me about my lack of 'goods'. Then, while relaxing in the recliner that used to be just for me, he had my wife get naked and sit on his lap. Chill proceeded to put his dark hands all over her while they kissed deeply and she pawed at his crotch.
When he made her kneel in front of him and open his pants so she could free his penis, I saw that he had every right to mock my inferior genital size. His member was huge and, as she lavished attention on it with her hands and mouth, it grew more and more. He wanted to get the sports news and scores, so she had to stay where she was, kissing his balls but not so much that it would overly distract him, for the next half hour. Then he took her to the bedroom, had me bring him a beer, and screwed her until she howled like an alleycat and wept from sheer ecstasy. I had to stand at the foot of the bed, bent forward, keeping my hands flat on the mattress, for the entire hour that they went at it. By the time they were done my ego was crushed and my back was sore. And then he made Bella use her mouth to clean their mixed sex fluids off his cock, which got him hard again, so that he shot a load down her throat.
After that he visited often. I was required to wear panties and sometimes a ribbon around my neck. My mind reeled with the extent of the changes that had occured. Once more I had been pushed past my limits. But Chill wasn't done with either of us. He ordered me to take my wife to a tattoo parlor and get her a Queen of Spades tat, right below her navel. And for me to get one on the same part of my body that said 'Shrimpdick'. Then he decreed that I had to buy hair remover and use it all over myself, so that I would be smooth and pink. After that, when I wore panties, I appeared even more unmanly.
Chill started making comments about how sexy I looked and even that I was turning him on. Surely he didn't expect me to... to... act like a girl for him. The next time he appeared he had brought a garter for me to wear around one hairless thigh. He had also decided that I should stop getting my hair cut. I grew very anxious about his intentions. But my wife loved what he was doing to me, even as he treated her like a slut and made her pose for lewd photos.
More indignities followed. I had to get laser treatments so that the removed body hair could never grow back. The lengthening hair on my head was trimmed and shaped into a more feminine style. I'm short and slender anyway, so after that I looked like a girly sissy. He made it worse by having me get a second tattoo, this one a pink heart high on one hip. If I wore bikini-cut panties, which he preferred, it was visible. He and Bella gloated at my loss of status and my increasingly wimpish look. As the weeks turned into months, however, I came to accept all those new disgraces. My cuckold nature had taken over and made me not only accept, but even crave, such extreme mistreatment.
I was in that cucky state of mind when Chill advanced me up to the next level. I guess I should say DOWN to the next level. The three of us were in the bedroom, with me in panties, neck ribbon and garter, my hair teased up and sprayed to make it even more femme, and for the first time my mouth colored with bright red lipstick.
Chill snarled at me, "Hey, boy, I'm ready to slam your wife's pussy. Get your face between her legs and make it nice and wet for me."
By then I was so intimidated, with my cuckold desires affecting my mind so much, that I did it without hesitating. He lay alongside her and kissed her hard on the mouth while I delivered a very different kind of kisses to her pussy. Once I had her prepped for his massive cock, he kicked me off the bed and spent almost 60 minutes hammering her, leaving her limp but happy. I had to lick his salty cum out of her. Afterwards I started to slide off the bed, expecting to be made to play with my little dick -- but not finish, of course -- or maybe just have to stand in the corner with my nose in the juncture of the walls.
Instead, he barked at me to get between is legs and taste the mess on his cock. I had never had my mouth anywhere near any of Bella's lovers' genitals. I wasn't gay. But Chill was not about to take 'no' for an answer. He sneered at me and I did as I was told. Bella got up on one elbow and watched, wide-eyed, as I tenatively tongued the bulbous head of his organ and then began cleaning the shaft. She rubbed his muscular arm and laughed at me.
My wife hissed, "Faggot. Faggy faggot. My husband is a queer. He's mouthing a real man's cock."
"Right," Chill said with smug satisfaction. "That makes him gay. Not me."
The big Black man got hard again and I had to give him a slow blowjob. My wife told me how to lick, suck, kiss nuzzle his rigid meat. When he was close to shooting, he made me hold just the knob in my mouth, running my tongue around the corona and sucking lightly, while my wife wrapped her white hand around his dark brown cock and stoked him. I couldn't stop myself from crying, one more sign of my weakness. They made it last as long as they could before he blasted his generous load. I wasn't allowed to swallow but had to show them how much there was on and under my tongue. Not until they had both had a good look was I allowed to gulp down all of his slime.
Since then there has been one more step. What was unexpected was that they let it be my choice. I was called into the bedroom, where they were lying side-by-side, nude and ready for a good lengthy fuck. Bella explained that our Black Master wanted to make me a complete bedroom sex-toy and, to do that, I would have to give up my balls. For a moment I couldn't even react. Chill said that it was my choice but, if I didn't do it, they might exclude me from their bedroom activities. My wife told me I had a week to decide.
I wrestled with it for several days. No guy wants to give up his testicals. That would mean virtually no sex drive. At the same time, it would make me the ultimate submissive, and a cuckold with no hope of every being anything else. I was surprised to find that I actually had to think about it. As the days passed I felt my cuckold-self doing the deciding for me. In the end I agreed and my wife made a phone call. They took me to a small clinic after its usual closing hour and I was given a local anesthetic. She wanted me to be awake and aware when my balls were taken. Chill reminded me that it had been my decision and asked me one last time if I wanted to turn back. I told him I didn't.
It was difficult to watch as my manhood was surgically taken away. After it was done they shared a celabratory kiss then went out for drinks. They returned a few hours later and I was allowed to leave. At home I recovered rapidly. It was odd to have not even a scrotum down there, just a flaccid penis that couldn't get hard. Bella informed me that I was only allowed to call my disabled organ a 'clitty'. If I used any other term I would be punished. It was odd to see my stunning wife showing off her figure and not to get stiff. At the same time, I did experience a powerful psychological reaction to it. I wanted to see her, to worship her, to submit to her... and him.
Before long I was their sex slave again. My body softened and Bella fed me extra calories to make me acquire a hint of curves. They bought me a corset and, when they put it on and laced it very tightly, it pushed up the excess tissue on my chest into twin mounds that approximated small boobs. That put Chill's urges into overdrive and he had me gobbling his cock even when he wasn't about to have sex with my wife.
I gained a few more pounds and he couldn't keep his hands off my newly plumped up rear end. Finally, one night when they were about to have sex, he changed his plans and made me kneel on the foot of the bed with my rump sticking out. Chill stood behind me and grabbed my bottom, using his thumbs to part my cheeks. Bella applied lube to my asshole and he pressed the end of his oversized cock against it. I began to weep like a frightened virgin on her wedding night.
Chill just chuckled and began to ease his tool into me, first the thick knob and then inch after inch of the long shaft. Once it was all the way in and his heavy balls were touching me, he began to pump with a slow rhythm. Gradually he picked up the tempo, while my wife got on the bed in front of me and locked her eyes with mine. I knew how long Chill could hold back before he let himself finish, and that I was probably in for a long session of banging.
Bella laid back and spread her legs. She pointed to her moist open pussy and told me to get my tongue busy. I lowered my face and in short order was eating out Bella while being pistoned by Chill. It went on and on until she had a loud climax, and then another, and finally they both finished at the same time. I knew I would never recover my male personality. I also understood that I had entered a new phase of my life and that, though it wouldn't have been true at any time before that, I now wanted everything to be the way it was. He made me thank him for taking my anal cherry. I had to call him Master Chill and would always address him as Master after that.
Since then that three-way scene has been repeated often. Can my mortification go even further? Will they exceed my limits again? I wouldn't have thought so but the last time they laced me into that corset and tightened it until I felt like I was being cut in half, with my chest flesh again turned into faux breasts, Chill said that it might be fun for them to get me small implants. That was upsetting enough, but then my wife got a devilish gleam in her dark eyes and said that if they were going to do it, why not go for the biggest size I could manage, something to give me at least a 36 inch bust and DD cups.
Chill laughed. He said if they did that, he knew some guys who wouldn't mind getting a shot at me, and that he could pimp my mouth out for good money. He described me getting titty-fucked, with my lips wrapped around the head of some guy's cock. Or maybe three johns lined up to use my face as a fuck-hole one after another. He didn't want anyone else using my ass -- that was his personal property -- but he suggested having him bung-bang me while one of his pals made my mouth into a cock socket.
So yes, they could push me even further. And like before, I don't want it to occur. But I know that, with my cuckold personality and how much they've changed me already, if my Black Master and my wife wanted it, I would accept and in time become addicted to whatever they did to me.
*********
