Emily and Danny Lawson

***This is not my story, but one from a classic author of what are often long stories with significant romantic elements, certainly on topic for this site, and in danger of being lost forever. There is an unfinished version in the authors account here and several other sites. However, it is no longer found anywhere the web in finished form except the Internet Archive (aka the Wayback Machine). Even then, if you don’t have the original URL for the authors now deleted Literotica account, it is difficult or maybe even impossible to dig it out. I found a request for the complete story on the partial version listed here. I tried but have been unable to contact the author and it appears he has gone silent on all platforns for a few years now. Given his reported age, it is possible he has gone silent forever.



Emily and Danny Lawson

by Matt Moreau

I watched Emily look at her image in the full length mirror. She smiled her satisfaction. Whatever happened this night, her life and mine would be changed forever, and hopefully for the better. Was she certain she even wanted to do it? Was I, her husband? In truth, though each of us was excited, we were likewise both nervous as could be.

******

It had all started two weeks ago when I had been called out on the job, I'm a computer hardware specialist; learned the trade in in junior college, and had since taken a number of techie courses to keep me up to snuff in the field. The company I worked for, Wildwood Technologies, paid handsomely for my skills which made it possible for Emily and me to have a nice standard of living. At any rate, I'd left the computer in the den on standby instead of shutting it down, big mistake. When she opened it to get a document on the desktop that she needed, she had been shocked to find what I had left there.

The open page was part of a folder of back and forth emails I had downloaded and saved. Curious, she had begun to read them. Closing the computer two hours later, she was confused and very upset at what she had discovered: that I had fantasies, that I was a closet wimp, a wannabe cuckold; and, that I had been communicating with other husbands, anonymously, who had like fantasies and proclivities.

That night she confronted me. "So how long have you had these fantasies?" said Emily.

"I don't know?" I said, "a long time, I guess." I was shaking in my boots, and it was obvious to her. She actually smirked.

"Since we've been married?" said Emily. "Before?"
"Before," I admitted. "But, they're just fantasies. They're nothing. I was never

going to ask you to do anything, honest," I said.

She was tapping her foot as she watched me. I found it almost impossible to meet her gaze. I was embarrassed, but I was also turned on talking to her about it, a fact more than testified to by the bulge in the front of my pants which she also noticed.

"Really? Then, how about that request for information about that big cuckold fest two weeks from now?" she said, nodding toward the still open page on the desktop.

"I—I don't know. I was just curious about what they do at those things that's all," I said.

We talked for hours, well two. Emily had become intrigued. I had become concerned; I was sweating.

Well, that was two weeks ago, and now we were getting ready to go to the big cuckold fest as she was continuing to call it. I had emailed for information about it, at her insistence, and I had gotten an answer back in two days. It turned out that what it actually was, was a kind of monthly get together where wives and their husbands could come and explore the cuckold lifestyle up close and personal. No pressure was exerted on anyone, or so the e-brochure claimed, but the opportunity for a wife or girlfriend to cuckold her significant other was there if the couple decided it was for them.

I had at first tried to get my wife to believe that I was only interested in the mental side of it. But, after the long discussion alluded to, I had been made to admit that I would like to look into it a bit more. We made the decision to attend.

And so here we were about to leave to go to it. "Ready?" said Emily, taking a deep breath.

"I think so," I said. "But, we're going to stick to our deal, right?"

"Yes, if either of us is uncomfortable about any of it, we will just leave and no more will be said about it," she said.

"Yes, and tonight we do not take our clothes off for any reason," I said, "at least not this first time." I was hedging my bets. Yes, the idea of really doing it was appealing, but I was also more than persuaded that it could also be a threat to our marriage; hence our deal.

"Also agreed," said Emily. "This is nothing more than a little information gathering expedition."

"Okay then, I guess we better go," I said.

The ride to the mansion, where the do was to take place, took over an hour. As we found out, a man named Robert Stahl, a black businessman, had founded the club as he liked to think of it. A millionaire, he'd created the twenty-five room mansion from the shell of a former apartment building. He'd made his money in the soft porn industry, and had parlayed that, through some clever stock buys, into a truly large fortune. The manse, besides the twenty-five rooms alluded to, sported a courtyard, two group gathering halls, a large basement, and other appurtenances.

We were met at the door by a white man liveried like a footman in a bad movie. "May I take your coat, ma'am," said the servant.

"Certainly," said Emily, with more confidence than I know she felt.

I noticed that the man had not asked to help me. "Can I get my coat hung up too?" I said.

"You know what this place is don't you?" asked the man. "Not exactly, first time for us," I said.

"Oh, okay. No, you have to hang it up yourself: over there on the cuck wall," said the servant. I looked and saw what he was pointing to; I went to it and hung up my coat.

Returning to the man and my wife, I asked what I thought was a good question. "My wife and I can go in together, right?" I asked. I was feeling very weird, not nervous, weird.

"Yes, you can, unless she's spoken for by one of the studs and accepts being with him, that is. If she does accept, well, then, I'm afraid, you'll have to adjourn to the basement with the other cuckold husbands; that's what we call cuck country; it's mandatory. A woman who is responsible for taking you there will do so and lock you up while your wife entertains her man." Suddenly I was frightened.

"Lock me up," I said. "The online brochure didn't say anything about that."

"Hmm, it's in there; I'm pretty sure," he said. "In any event, I'm afraid it is expected. It's what we are about here.

"And, just judging by the look of your lady, I'm positive she is going to be claimed pretty quick; I mean if I'm any judge. I mean if she wants to, you know," he said. I nodded.

"Since you folks are newbies, I'm going to get you an escort to kinda show you around and orient you. How's that?

"Oh, and my name is David. I'm a cuckold husband myself. As you might guess, we husbands are required to do the work here on kind of a rotating basis. You will be too," he said to me, "once your lady has made you one of us, and you'vr been initiated. Anyway, it works for us and for the group," he said.

"The escort would be good, David," I said. "But, I'm saying right now that I do not want to be locked up." David just shrugged.

"Definitely, no ball and chain for you dear. I know that would be way too hard for you," echoed Emily, she giggled. "If they really require it, we just won't join, that's all." I felt a little bit better, less apprehensive, with her supporting me.

We made our way into what looked like a large receiving area. Twenty or thirty white couples, and a number of what were apparently black escorts were in evidence. All of the couples were mixing and laughing and sipping cocktails. The black studs were strolling around and smiling and talking to the women; they seemed to be studiously avoiding talking to the husbands, who, however, did not seem to be taking offense at the snubs.

"A glass of wine, honey," I said as we bellied up.
"Yes, please, dear," she said. She was looking around surveying the place.

I placed the order for two glasses of burgundy, paid, and turned to see a man, a white man, coming toward us. The orientor, I thought, as he neared us.

"Hi, I'm Arnold," he said. "You folks are the newbies, correct?"

"Yes, we are thank you," I said. "I'm Danny Lawson and this is my wife Emily."

"Nice to meet you. You have a very lovely wife, Danny. I know she'll like it here. Uh, you will too; I hope," he said. He seemed nice. "Let's have a seat at that table over there, and maybe I can make this an easy introduction for you."

We meandered the twenty feet or so to a table by a large picture window. The view was of the expansive patio area with lots of verdure.

"Let me do a bit of rambling, okay. I can answer most of your questions in one go, and then if you have anything else you'd like to have answered, I will do my best. How's that?" said Arnold. Emily and I both nodded our agreement.

"David mentioned he'd spoken to you about being locked up while your wife is being pleasured. It is a requirement, I'm afraid. But, since this is your first night, and you're just touring—right?" We nodded. "You'll get a bye, that is unless, Emily here decides to indulge herself." He looked to each of us separately and waited to make sure we were all on the same page. Satisfied, he continued.

"Anyway, we always start these affairs with some socializing. We've found that when Candace takes the cucks down to cuck country, that sometimes, really usually, they need a drink or two before they are locked up for the evening. Certainly in the cases of the newbies like you," he said, looking at me. "I admit, it's hard on us husbands at first, but we get used to it. Being caged is kind of a symbol of our submission to our wives and their lovers. We're cuckolds after all, really our wives' and their lovers' slaves. Am I making any sense?"

We both nodded. "Sure," I said. "But, I just don't feel comfortable..."

"I understand, but it is a requirement locking up the hubbies. But, if it is something you just can't do. Well, at least it's been nice to meet you folks—sincerely.

"Anyway, like I say we're into the cuckold lifestyle here. I'm sure you know that or you wouldn't be here. The wives are in charge, indirectly at least; Mr. Stahl owns everything, but he does nothing to interfere with the festivities, if you get my drift. He's in Europe right now on business, but the time may come when you meet him. He's very nice.

"The black studs, are all invitees, and none are pros. They are here to fuck your wife, Daniel, make no mistake. And, like I say, while they do her, you will be cloistered with the other cucks in cages in the basement. We do allow the cucks to play with each other, so long that is as their wives give their consent. In cases like that the wives of the cucks see to it that their husbands are locked up in pairs. Sometimes they even come down with their lovers to watch their husbands do each other; it's a very large kick for the wives, believe me," he said. "There are few things funnier to a woman than watching her husband grunting and growling as he gets it in the butt. And, the cuckolds know it and do their best to entertain their women while they're getting it."

"I'm not sure..." I started. My stomach was doing flip flops.
"Mister, Arnold?" broke in Emily.
"Mason, Arnold Mason, ma'am," he said.
"Yes, well, my husband and I are equal partners. I, we're, not into that kind of..."

"Emily, please, allow me. Your husband Danny here, is here because he wants to be cuckolded by his very beautiful wife. A bit later, one of the other ladies will take you aside and give you some tips and let you in on what you will need to know to train Danny. Trust me, Danny wants you to have your cake and eat it too so to speak. Don't you, Danny?" said Arnold.

I was definitely a deer in the headlights. "Uh, uh, I do want her to be happy, but this is all so new. We really kinda want to go slow at first, you know, see how it suits us," I said.

"Yes, of course," he said.
"Well, if there are no more questions?" said mister Arnold.

We thanked him, me a little less enthusiastically than my wife. Then we sat and talked for a few minutes before a large black man with a huge smile and a noticeable bulge in the front of his jeans approached us. "Hi," he said. "May I?" Indicating that he would like to join us.

"Certainly," said my wife. I looked daggers at her. She just raised an eyebrow to silence me. For the next twenty minutes the two of them talked virtually ignoring me, even when I made a comment that seemed called for.

It turned out that his name was Jackson Cord. He seemed nice, okay, and more than interested in my woman. I was beginning to get cold feet. But, I wasn't quite ready to call it a night.

A tall woman with an equally tall gentleman on her arm came up to Emily. "Excuse me, but are you the Lawsons?"

"Yes, we are," said Emily.

"I'm Candace Bergson. I have been tasked with filling you in. Emily isn't it?"

"Yes, and thank you. We are on an information gathering mission tonight. Anything you can tell us will be appreciated," said Emily. At that point Jackson and Candace's escort excused themselves and wandered off.

"Well, this is for your ears only, Emily, I'm afraid. But you can tell your husband about what I tell you when you feel the need or want to. There is good reason for you to be the one to learn what I have to tell you first, really," she said.

"Okay, honey?" said Emily looking at me with cow eyes.

"Sure, I guess," I said. I'll just head on over to the bar and get me some reinforcement."

"Yes, dear, do that," said Emily.

I watched the two of them from the bar. I waited for the high sign from Emily to invite my return. The conversation evidently started slow. But then it got animated. More than once Emily's hand came up to her mouth indicating shock or surprise, I couldn't tell which. On at least two occasions I saw her giggle. I was becoming concerned. Yes, the whole gig was ultimately my fault, but I was becoming more and more against the whole thing. I wanted to leave. I got my wish.

Emily gave the signal for me to return. I did. I returned to the table, and took my seat. Candace smiled at me, rose, and left.

"Honey," I said. "I want to go. I'm feeling uncomfortable." She gave me a look of mild concern.

"Okay, Dan, if you want. We're only here for the info anyway, and I think we've learned a lot already," she said.

We said our goodbyes to Candace and David, the latter, who had seen us coming, had retrieved Emily's coat. I got mine, and we left. I couldn't help but feel the stares of half a dozen studs follow my wife as we exited the premises and got to our car; I shivered, she noticed. The drive home was initially silent, but about halfway into the hour drive I looked over at her. She seemed lost in thought.

"I want to do it," she said.
"I don't," I said. "It's too much."

"I thought you might be feeling that way," she said. "But, before we make a decision we'll talk. Okay?"

"Talk yes, but I don't like it, Em. It is too scary. I'm afraid?"

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she said. "It's just a place to play. Candace really laid it on me in that half hour or so that we talked. I understand better now how to do this and what it's all about. Again, there is nothing to be afraid of. Even locking you up in a cage isn't that big a deal; it'll heighten your cuck experience is all. Candace told me all newbies are afraid of that at first; it is very humiliating, and yes, scary. But, isn't that part of it after all, I mean I've read a lot of your emails and web stories. Hubbies who need to be cuckolded are actually turned on by the humiliation and the denial. Right?"

"Yes, I suppose, but Emily, I'm afraid of losing you to some guy from this sex club. I am not willing to risk that. Not now, not ever," I said.

For the first time she looked at me with real concern in her eyes. I caught it.

"Yes, I'm not ashamed to say it. I think that if we do this it will be the end of us. I love you too much to risk that," I said.

"Danny, whether we do this or not, there is absolutely no chance that you will ever lose me. Not to any of those black studs, not to anyone, ever. Honest," she said.

I was not convinced.

******

For several days neither of us had too much to say about our little foray at the mansion. But, by Thursday night of the following week, I guess Emily figured that enough time had elapsed that she could bring up the subject and reason with me.

"Danny we need to talk," she said. She didn't have to tell me what the talk was going to be about. It was written all over her. What had been my fantasy and was no longer, was now hers.

I just nodded. "As I mentioned that night in the car, Danny, I want to do it. I want to cuckold you."

"I can't do it, Em'. I just can't. I'm afraid," I said.

"Danny, you don't have to go. It would be better if you did. I really need to have you near me; to make me feel safe. But, if I have to go a few times by myself to make you feel safer; that's okay too," she said.

"Are you saying that you don't care what I think or need; that you are going to do it whether I'm on board or not? Is that what you're saying, Emily!" I said.

"Danny, I do care what you want and need. But, you need to care about what I want to. I have to do this. I have to do it for me and for us. Are you going to hear me out, or are you just going to shut me down." I nodded for her to go on, but tears were beginning to creep into the corners of my eyes. She wiped them away with her hand.

"My talk with Candace opened my eyes to how I have to treat you, and how to make this work for both of us. I promise to bring you along gently, my gentle man," she said. "I know you are very fragile right now. Candace told me you would be. She knew you'd be afraid. Everything she said is coming true just like she said it would.

"What she also told me was how to build your trust in me. How to get you to love what we'll be doing. And, it will be we, not just me fucking other men. We'll both be having fun; you'll see. Some of the things we'll be doing are a little shocking, and frankly, you aren't ready for all of them yet, but other things we can do right now to build your confidence and feelings of safety. I just hope you'll give me a chance. Will you?" She was pleading.

"You haven't answered my question," I said.

"My answer is that if you really don't want me to, then I will honor your wishes and not do it. I'll be mortally disappointed, but I will not go against you if you feel that strongly." I had the feeling that she knew how I would react to her words. But, I was powerless to say or do otherwise.

"Okay then, we'll go once. If it works out okay, we'll go again. But, if I say to stop, we stop. Do you agree?" I said.

"Yes, my darling man. And, I have some presents for you. I bought them this week hoping you'd agree to go with me. I'm glad I didn't waste my money," she said giggling. "But, right now I need you to make love to me." She'd said it like she was scolding me. "Take me right here in the kitchen my husband. Take me now."

She stood and began to take off her clothes. Soon she was naked and I noted that her pussy was shaved bare; that was new. I wondered if it was for me. I was out of my clothes in nanoseconds or so it seemed. We stood in front of each other and just looked into each other's eyes. I reached out and took her breast in my hand and leaned in to suckle on its nipple.

I went to my knees and licked her bare and beautiful mound, her slit and then nibbled on her clit as she spread her legs a little to accommodate me. I turned her around and kissed her butt. I spread her crack and licked her anus doing my best to force my tongue deep inside of her. She bent over and braced herself on the sink.

"That's it baby, suck my anus now. Suck it like my good little cucky to be." And I did.

Done, I stood and rammed my pole into her pussy and hammered her hard for some minutes. She stiffened. She screamed and shuddered in as powerful an orgasm as she had ever had engulfed her. I emptied my load into her. She relaxed and kind of sagged into the counter.

"Take your little cucky to be to bed, darling. I need to cuddle," I said. She did. She led me by my now limp penis into the bedroom, and we lay down together. It was good.

It was Saturday morning before the events of the previous Thursday were brought up again. Oh, and I still hadn't gotten my promised presents.

******

The sun is my alarm clock, always had been. It didn't fail me now. I got up, stretched, headed for the bathroom and got myself in order. Dressed in khakis and flip-flops, I headed downstairs. I could smell the bacon and the coffee.

"Mornin'," she said greeting me. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, very well, but I am exhausted," I said. "But don't worry, I'll be good for an encore tonight." I smiled the smile of an overly indulged Cheshire cat.

"Honey?"

Her tone was not conducive to making me feel good. "Yes, What?" I said, becoming suspicious. I could see she was nervous. I frowned.

"Last night, well, last night will be it I'm afraid for a while. I need to get you really horny. Can you understand that? I mean it's for your own good. Really. Candace told me how to do this. I mean, okay? I mean so we can cultivate this new cuckold lifestyle."

She must've realized what a crushing effect her words were having on me. One clue might have been the fact that my lower jaw was no more than three inches from the surface of the floor. "How long?" It was all I could manage to say. I said it so quietly that I think it shook her.

"Just until the next do," she said.

"Three weeks! I screamed. She stumbled backwards into the sink. So last night was just a come on, is that it! A little mercy for good 'ole cucky," I was furious at being used, as I saw it. Taken advantage of. Fooled. Whatever it was that she was trying to do.

"I'm invoking our agreement. It's over. And we will have sex tonight or I'm moving out today," I said.

"Danny, you don't mean it. I mean, I thought we had an arrangement. I thought you understood."

"Fuck you! I said. "You go to your dirty little party. Hell, party every day, every night. I'm the fuck outta here." I looked at the bacon and eggs that were already on the table. I picked up each of the platters and threw them as hard as I could against the wall. The broken dishware and food mess splattered everywhere. I didn't give a fuck; I wasn't going to be around to clean it up. Fuck her and Jackson and Candace and the whole lot of them. I was done with it.

"Danny! Wait! Please Danny Please!" She was screaming her words at my back I was already halfway up the stairs before she could get out of the kitchen.

I began packing as soon as I hit the room. I pulled out two large suitcases and threw everything I could see that was mine into them. Amazing that after twenty years of marriage, that I had so little, really, that was important enough to take with me. Done, I looked around. I could hear her sobbing in the hallway. She knew better than to interrupt me in the room. I looked around one last time. I saw our wedding picture sitting on the end table. I picked it and the two bags up and went into the hallway. She was three feet from the door and leaning back against the wall. I put my bags down for a moment. She cowered shrinking down closer to the floor. I held the wedding picture up for her to see.

"Remember this? It was the one we thought was the best. You said you thought it held the promise of our future together. Of our love for each other." I laid it on my palm and with all of the strength I had I smashed it against the wall. My hand became a bleeding mess as the glass from the frame tore into my flesh. I didn't even notice it. I picked up the two bags and stormed out.

“Daaannnnyyyyyy!" she wailed. "I'm sorry. I take it back?" I wasn't listening. I threw the bags in the back of my pickup and peeled rubber leaving.

I found myself in the Roundhouse, my favorite bar. The adrenalin was flowing. I was dangerously angry, but I was quiet. I kept thinking about how wonderful the sex had been the night before. Spontaneous and wonderful. Then, this morning, she had dashed all of my illusions; it had not been spontaneous; it had been a set up. I had never been so low, as I was at this moment, and I had never been so filled with anger.

In the entire twenty years of our marriage we had rarely gone three days without sex. Now, she expected me to go three weeks! Fat fucking chance! What I needed now was a helluva lot more firewater, and, a woman. Well, I had half of what I needed.

I don't know how she knew where to come, but two hours, three doubles, and a couple of beer chasers into my misery she slid onto the stool next to mine.

"Buy me a drink, sailor?" said Candace.

I looked at her with what had to have been a shocked expression to anyone within visual range. "What the fuck do you want? You're my wife's pal not mine. Get lost," I said, as brutally as I could.

"I'll take that as a no. Barkeep, can I have gin and tonic, please?" she said. "Boy, Emily didn't exaggerate, did she," said Candace.
"You still here?" I said coldly.

"Yes, well, it is a public place. Look, Danny, I gave Emily the advice that I thought would be the most useful to you guys starting out. I guess I was wrong. You weren't ready to be denied her pussy. I am so sorry for fucking things up for you two. Please how can I set this right? I need to set it right," she said.

"You need! You need to fuck off. I will never stay married to a woman who denies me sex, let alone love. My marriage is history. Find someone else and fuck up their life. Mine's already in the shitter."

"Danny, I need you to hear what I'm saying. I will do whatever it takes to get you two back together. I take full responsibility for your fight with Emily. That woman loves you, no matter what you believe right now, and she was trying to prove it to you. What you two were about to embark on is a really fun lifestyle. You were almost there. You just needed a little guidance; I gave you guys the wrong kind; it's my fault. I tried to give guidance to Emily, but I analyzed the situation wrongly. Usually, I'm right on, no brag just fact, but this time I really messed up. Please forgive me, 'kay?"

"Do you know what she told me? Do you! She told me I was getting no more sex until the party next month! Three fucking weeks and no sex. Lady, that ain't happening. No sex? No way!" I said.

"That was just to make you horny for the big night. Really your first night as it were. New cuckolds need to be on the edge horny-wise. Did she tell you about your presents?" said Candace.

"Yes, heard but haven't seen. Don't know what they are. Don't wanna know. I'm done with this fantasy shit. You can tell her that. She can play her games with someone else. Like I said, I'm history," I said.

"Danny, that woman loves you and only you. You have to go back and start over. It is your fantasy, isn't it? You still need that. I, and I mean I, just went about it wrong when I told Emily how she might want to proceed. You weren't ready. You would have liked it, but you weren't ready for denial of any kind, let alone denial of sex. I had thought you were. I really am sorry," she said.

"I can't go back. I burned my bridges with her. If I went back she'd treat me like dirt, and then it would be even worse than it is now. I can't go back," I said.

She smiled at me. "Danny, why do you think I'm here? I can't read minds. Emily called me, begged me, to tell her what to do. Of course my answer was to come here myself and try to mediate this disaster before it got out of hand."

"What are you saying, Candace? You saying she wants me back? I mean on my terms?" I said.

"I'm saying exactly that," she said.

I watched her as she stirred her drink. She was thinking, trying to figure how to phrase her next words.

"Danny your terms. But, if you want the lifestyle that I think you do, you'll want to obey her, but only because you want to not because you have to. Jesus, I hope I said that right," she said.

"You're saying that I have the final say in this shit. Is that right?" I said.

"Yes, and you don't have to accept being denied sex with your wife. You should want to try though. You need to let her help you stay celibate for the next few weeks. The best experience for you cuckies comes when you're really really horny. So, you should want to be totally celibate, no cumming between now and the party night. But, like I say, you can beg off if you want; that's the real deal; Emily told me.

"But, again, I must add the best cuck experience comes when the cucky is under his wife's thumb. I know you've read enough stories and articles to know that.

"The problem always arises when the husband, the cuck, is afraid of losing his wife, or of being humiliated beyond his ability to endure it. I think that that is part of why you came apart like you did when she mentioned cutting you off for the next three weeks.

"I think that the solution for you guys is to let you decide if you can handle it. And then, well, to let you try, or not if that's how you want it. Your wife will encourage you, help you, to succeed; so that you can get the full experience three weeks from now," said Candace.

I was mulling over what she said. I was still angry, but the anger was ebbing. "And, if I go back now I won't be stepping into a bad situation?" I said.

"Absolutely not," said Candace. "I can tell you totally without fear of contradiction that Emily is home right now biting her fingernails hoping I will succeed here."

"Okay then, I'll go back. She and I will talk. I'm not saying I will accept any of this.

She better know it; and I'm not kidding," I said, firing the final salvo in the debate.

Candace smiled. She leaned in and kissed me. "Don't forget to ask for your presents." With that we said our goodbyes and she was gone.

******

I sat in my car in our driveway for some minutes before getting the courage to get out and go into the house. She was waiting at the kitchen table.

She was actually shaking. "Hello, Emily," I said, not beating around the bush. "Candace talked to me. You knew that of course?"

"Oh good," said Emily. "Yes, I knew. I asked her to, actually.

"Danny, I don't know what she told you. But, whatever she told you I'm glad you're here. I will do whatever you want, honey. Anything. Really," she said.

I leaned back against the sink and spread my arms wide for her to come to me. She flew into them sobbing her heart out. I held her. "Tomorrow we talk," I said. "But, for now, just know that I love you. I do not want to lose you, and I am afraid, Em'. I'm afraid. Can you understand that?"

"I know, you silly man. I know. But losing me is absolutely the last thing that will happen before the end of the world." We talked long, but celibacy was not mentioned. Nothing was mentioned about the party. I had said we would talk about it tomorrow, and she did not challenge me, a good sign.

Later, we went to bed and fucked like bunnies. Again, no mention was made about my being denied sex. And yet again, I knew that tomorrow, I would be talking to my wife about just that, but tonight I was getting my way. I hadn't done it, screwed her, consciously to make a point. No, our fucking had been a kind of make up thing.

We were once again seated at the kitchen table. I was stirring my morning coffee, which was strange, because I drank mine black no sugar. "Candace told me some things," I began. "First of all, where's all of these fancy presents I supposedly have coming," I said. I saw fear pass across my wife's face.

"What?" I said. "Candace told me to ask. Your look tells me you don't want me to ask. So, what?"

"No, it's just that..."

"Just what? What am I missing?" I said.

"Well, honey, they're cucky presents," said Emily. "I mean only a cuckold would want to know about them, want to have them. I do not want to upset you with them. My God! I do not want to upset you by giving them to you!"

"I see," I said. "Let me ease your mind. Candace said you'd be good with it if I didn't want to do the cucky scene. Or, if I did, that we would back out on a moment's notice if I decided I couldn't handle it after trying. Just like we agreed before. You really and truly good with that? Because it is more than highly likely that I'm going to want us to back out of it; I can tell you that right now? Frankly, as I told you before, I am scared peeless about the whole scene. But, that said, I am willing to try at least once."

"Yes. Yes Danny, I am good with everything you say" she said. "But for me to give you these kinds of presents, you have to want to be my cuckold or there is no point to it. Do you want to be my cuckold, Danny? It's okay if you don't, but I just need to know. I'm so confused. And—I'm scared too if you want to know."

"I think that I do, if I can have the safety net of being able to pull us out on a moment's notice," I said. I had thought long and hard about the whole scene while sleeping not at all the night before. Now, I was putting it out there with no sugar coating. I guessed we'd see.

"Okay, then," she said. "Wait here for a moment. I'll be right back."

She was gone for no more than two minutes. She was carrying a small gym bag. She also had a dowel, maybe three feet or less long. It was very thin, maybe a quarter-inch and it was wrapped very carefully in black electrical tape. I was very curious about the dowel.

She set the gym bag down. She was crying, not sobbing, but crying. I think she was afraid. "Danny, I don't know if we should go any farther here. I think we're fine without any of this. I know I can live without the cuckolding thing if you can. There is no need for us to do this."

I was conflicted. Being her cuckold had long been my fantasy, but my terror at the possibility of losing her to some stud bull had gotten in the way. But, deep down the fantasy still held me in thrall.

Candace had finally been able to convince me that so long as I really did have ultimate control that living the reality of the fantasy was going to be good. Of course, had I known at that moment the consequences of my decision, and how they would unfold over the next months, the decison we were making now, I likely would never have wanted to find out what was in that bag. But, fool that I was, I had to know, and so I signaled her to carry on.

I looked at her there in her pink day dress, low cut in the front and maybe two inches above her knee. Her brown hair was all fluffed out and curly as it billowed out around her face. I noticed too that she was wearing low heels, maybe two- inchers, and that her makeup, though somewhat understated, had been touched up. It occurred to me that she looked awfully sexy for a woman who was worried, however vaguely, about losing her marriage. The way she was dressed, it was, it was to titillate me. She wanted me turned on. It didn't seem to be exactly a set up, but I had to wonder if the way she looked had been Candace' idea. I'd have bet the pink slip to my pickup that it had been.

She unzipped the bag and pulled out a small box. "This was supposed to keep you celibate for the time between parties," she said. "But we don't have to use it at all. But, you wanted to see this stuff. So anyway?" She handed me the box. She smiled a little bit; I think she was giggling now, inside, and trying to hide it.

I took the box and opened it. It was a small plastic tube and a couple of rings and some other parts. There was a small padlock and a couple of keys obviously made for it. I looked up at her. I knew what it probably was. She was smiling broadly now.

"Well, you asked, honey. But, I know you won't want to be wearing it. I mean I know you won't want to be denied sex at all. I completely understand," she said. "It was just an idea, at the time, to keep you horny, that's all."

"What else is in there?" I said, not commenting on the cock cage for the moment. I could feel my hardness betraying my calm demeanor.

"Honey, we don't have to do any more of this, really," she said.

"Now, Emily, you know damn well that you are going to show me the rest of what's in that bag; so let's stop fucking around and get to it, all right?" I said, trying not to seem too excited. She did giggle now, and the mood in the room became more relaxed.

She pulled out a stack of what had to have been a dozen or so pairs of female panties, all different colors and all frilly and girlish.

I looked at her questioningly. "Those are for you. Why are you showing them to me with my gifts," I asked.

"They're for you, dear. For you to dress like my little cuckold sissy," she said. "They're kind of a uniform for cuckolds." She couldn't help but laugh at my obvious consternation. "Don't be so shocked, dear, husbands in your internet stories wear them. It, it, well, it adds to their voluntary humiliation, especially when the girls at the mansion pants them in front of their bulls."

"What else is in there?" I said.
"Nothing else," she said, "that's all."
"What's that for?" I asked, pointing to the dowel.
"It's a switch, of course, honey," she said.
"Huh?"
"To, well, well to spank you with. You know as part of the cuckold scene. You bentover the back of the couch or something getting your just punishment," she said smiling. "Candace told me of how sometimes men are condemned at Mr. Stahl's house and they are publicly spanked so everyone there can see and laugh at them. Part of the scene that's all. I mean wives and other girls spanking their husbands publicly like that."

I stood up. Went to her. Yanked her to her feet. Led her to the back of the couch she was sitting on and bent her over it. I pulled up her dress and slowly peeled down her panties. I dropped my own pants and without a further word pushed into her. I fucked her for some minutes finally cumming. She had two small orgasms while I was doing her.

I pulled out of her and ordered her to turn around and get down on her knees. She looked at me kind of funny, but did as I asked. "Get me hard again," I said. She did, her mouth alternately teasing and sucking me to a fierce hardness. She sucked me a long time. Finally, I exploded into her mouth. She drank it all.

"Okay," I said, as my penis shrank to a tenth the size it had been but a short time before, "put it on me."

"Huh?"
"Lock up my penis, Emily, before it grows too big to fit inside of the tube," I said. "You mean?"

"Yes, that screwing and that blow job we just shared will have to do me until the night of the next party," I said. "Remember, no arguments about me needing sex when I need it. But, I will try to last till then."

She immediately got the small box, into which I had returned the contents. She wiped my penis dry with a tissue she'd pulled from the box on the end table. Ready, she pulled the tube out of its box and slipped it over my penis. I was so emptied of sauce that she had no trouble. She tugged a little on my glans as they began to poke out the end. Then, she attached the rings that looped around my balls and hitched it together to the tube via a couple of elongated metal pins, finally padlocking the device into place. The device itself was stainless steel. It wasn't coming off without the key. I was celibate until she let me out.

She looked up at me. "Are you sure, Danny? I mean we really don't need to do this. We put it on, and we can take it off right now if you're scared," she said.

"No, no. I'm okay. At least I think I am. Just remember our deal. If I say it's over?"

"Yes, and I am good with that. But it is kinda exciting, huh?" she said. "You are going to be one horny fella by the time the party comes around party."

"For damn sure," I said. I think she giggled for half an hour.

Again, we, the cucks, did have our hands or each other, while we were at the mansion, but that was it. We were all cuckolds or about to become cuckolds, as in my case, and we were going to be treated as such; and we were expected to act like it. And, yes, I was wearing a pair of frilly lavender panties under my clothes. Emily could hardly contain her laughter when she'd put them on me.

"Are you okay, honey?" said Emily. "If you feel at all bad let me know, and we're out of here. I mean it. This has to be good for both of us or it's a no go." Her words made me feel a little less apprehensive.

"I'm okay," I said. "I will let you know if things get too hairy for me. Don't worry. You have fun." I said this last with some misgivings. I was still worried that someone would try to steal my wife from me. That was the one intolerable fly in the ointment.

She smiled at me. "Let's go to the bar and have a glass of wine. Kinda watch the goings and comings for a little bit. Okay?" she said. I nodded and we headed for the bar.

A white man, obviously a cuck served us; he was wearing a collar with a woman's name on it. I was looking at it, and Emily smiled.

"Once you've been cuckolded, dear, you get to wear one too. It identifies you as my property." She laughed. "It's something new that they just started tonight. Candace called me yesterday to see if we were coming. She told me about it. You get the collar and they have a guy who burns the name of the guy's owner on it." I swallowed. It seemed as though there was no end to the ways a cuckold could be humiliated.

I paid the barman and we sipped the red elixir slowly, neither of us caring to get sloshed. We were here for another reason, and it had little to do with alcohol. Ten minutes later her patience, or maybe it was mine, was rewarded.

"Hi. Emily isn't it?" said Jackson. He didn't even look at me. But he was all smiles and conviviality for Emily.



"Hi," said my wife. "Yes, I'm Emily. I remember meeting you the last time we were here. You remember my husband, don't you?" She indicated me by putting a loose hand on my shoulder.

"Uh, sure," said Jackson. He nodded to me and then, in a most practiced and unmistakable way, went out of his way to ignore me.

"As I recall, Emily, the last time you were here, you were cruising and checking the place out. Now you're back, are you here for some fun this time?" he said.

She looked at me one last time seeking my silent okay. I smiled at her and took a sip of my wine. She looked back at the tall, well built, black man. "Yes, I think so," she said. He offered her his arm. They wandered off together leaving me abandoned and alone; but, as it happened not for long.

"I see Jackson has commandeered your wife," said the voice from behind me.

"Candace! You startled me," I said. "Uh, yes, I guess it's going to happen to me tonight. I'm going to be a cuckold for real. But, I don't know, I feel kind of weird, maybe even a little afraid still."

"I figured. That's why I came over. You know, to kinda hold your hand while he fucks her. Don't worry, she'll love you twice as much for allowing her this moment of excitement," said Candace. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"Sure," I said. I felt lots better with Candace standing there figuratively holding my hand. I needed the reassurance more than I had thought that I would.

"You know, Danny, when your wife comes back to collar you, I really will need to take you down to cuck country. That's where you'll belong then; it really is required. I will be the one locking you up," she said. "Okay?" I nodded.

"I can even lock you up with another cucky if you want. You may need it. You can give each other handjobs if you want, but Emily will have to okay it of course when she returns for you."

"She already has okayed it, at least to me," I said. "And, I guess I would like the company, and maybe the help, I suppose."I knew I was turning beet red.

"Don't be embarrassed. Your feelings are perfectly natural given how horny you must be," said Candace.

"I am that," I said.


She raised her eyebrows and giggled.

"Candace, thank you. You've been a big help," I said. "I'll go down where I belong, when she comes to get me, I mean willingly.

"Oh, by the way. She did give me my presents. They, the presents were kind of a shock, but I accepted them as my lot."

She smiled. "I would love to watch you getting it in the butt. But, right now we have something we have to do," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

******

"You and your husband really into the scene?" said Jackson.

"We're a little nervous. He more than me, but as to that, I'm pretty nervous too," said Emily.

"Understandable, but not really anything to be afraid of," said Jackson. "I've been to a hundred of these. The women get what they need, and the men get theirs, no more no less. Down the line it sometimes gets a little more problematic at least for the cuckolds," he said.

She eyed him. "More problematic?" she said.

"Well, yes. Once they've been introduced to the full extent of their roles as cuckolds; well, sometimes, at least early on, cucks can be real horses' asses. You know, crushed egos, the public humiliation; and worst of all, well, the jealousy. That's why, here at the mansion, we go slow; kinda lead them, guide them, to the place they need to be, I mean the men. You know, so that their wives can enjoy themselves without the guilt trips or the pressure that could raise their ugly heads," said Jackson.

"Interesting, sounds well organized, maybe less threatening is the term. And, if that's the case, I'm glad because my husband sounds like he is typical of the sort you describe. He is, frankly, very skittish right now. We almost decided not to come. But, in the end, we were able to work through his objections," said Emily.

They'd been walking slowly toward a small niche in the wall where a man, probably Mexican, had a little shop of sorts.

"Here we are," said Jackson. She looked at him quizzically. "Here?" she said.

"Yes. Emily, this is Juan. He'll burn your name into a collar for your hubby. You know, for when we go back to fetch him; it's a new requirement here; I mean if you're still interested in cuckolding him tonight," said Jackson. She smiled up at the big black and nodded her okay.
"Juan, a collar for the lady's husband," said Jackson. "Name's Emily." Juan smiled.

"You are a very pretty senorita, miss Emily. Mister Jackson knows what a women needs. Your husband can be proud to be cuckolded by him; and by you of course," he said. Emily beamed.

"Pink or blue?" said the man. "Huh?"

"Pink or blue," said the man."Pink if you decide he is to be treated as the female by other cucks in cuck country. Blue if you prefer he should be—well—the male in the stuff they do with each other," he said. She looked at Jackson.

"It's up to you," said Jackson. "You know your husband better than anyone." She went pensive for a moment. She was remembering back to her conversations with her man early on, after she had discovered his proclivities. She smiled; she'd made her decision.

"Pink," she said. Jackson smiled but said nothing. They waited for the two minutes it took to emblazon her name on the two-inch wide collar. The man handed it to her.

"Oh, and don't forget this," said Juan. He handed her the small but formidable looking padlock he'd plucked from the small bucket to the left of the counter. She looked askance at him.

"To lock the collar on him," said the man. She took in a breath and smiled her understanding.

"Okay, thank you," she said. The couple headed for a small satellite bar just outside the expansive patio of the mansion. They ordered drinks and took seats at a small two-person table.

"You'll have to go get him in a few minutes," he said.

"I know. I'm a little bit nervous. It's our—his—first time. The humiliation he's going to feel—I just don't know," she said.

"He'll be okay. Just make sure you let him know how much you appreciate his sacrifice. Assure him that his needs will also be attended to," said Jackson. She noticed his not quite benevolent smile. It was almost, what, something.

They talked for a few more minutes. Their drinks downed; the man waited for her to take the initiative.

"I guess, I better go get him," she said.

"It is his time," said Jackson.

******

"Here comes your wife now, Danny. Just be calm; it'll be all right. She has to pants you and put your collar on you. You are wearing your uniform, right?" she said.

I must have turned three shades of crimson. "Uh, yes," I said. "You mean here and now. In front of everybody. She's gonna pants me?"

"Uh huh. It's your lot, Danny."

I swallowed and stared at her hard as she approached. Somehow, right up to that second, I had clung to the hope that my wife would find another way to cuckold me. But, the look in her eyes as she came up to me dashed any such feeble hope.

"Hi honey," she said. She spoke softly. Her smile was kindly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess so," I said. She just continued to smile. My gaze travelled down to her side where she clutched a pink leather collar in her right hand. She appeared to be waiting for me to give her the go ahead to do what she had to do. Mercifully, her stud, Jackson, had hung back; he stood just inside the doorway, maybe thirty feet away.

I gathered whatever little smidgen of courage that I had and addressed her. "Is it time?" I said. She nodded slowly.

"Yes, my husband. It is. Are we okay? I mean you know..." My turn to nod.

"Hold this for me while I pull your pants down, Dan. Please." She handed me the collar to hold.

Kneeling in front of me, She undid my belt and the button at the front of my pants. Then, looking up into my eyes; she took hold of my zipper and slowly pulled it down following which, equally slowly, she pulled my pants down ******** to the view of all, my lavender panties and my hardened, if not actually imposing male flesh that my panties inadequately concealed. She gazed with satisfaction at my erection.

"Excited to become my cuckold, honey?" she said. She still sounded nervous, tentative. I swallowed yet again.

"I think so," I said. With my pants still at my ankles, she stood. She reached for the collar which I still held and took it from me. Gently she encircled my neck with it and closed the clasp. Holding the padlock up and in front of her breasts, she motioned me to bend forward a little. I did so, and she snapped the padlock onto my collar securing me.

"Kick off your shoes and step out of your trousers, honey," she said. I did so. Candace who had been watching from a few feet behind me, came forward. She smiled at me and attached a leash to the padlock that secured the collar.

"Let's go, Danny, it's time for you to meet you cell mate," she said. She turned and pulled me along behind her by my leash. I turned back to see my wife walking away from me arm in arm with her lover of the evening. She never looked back. Had she, she could not have missed the jealousy that had to be painted on my face and which was consuming me. I would be her cucky tonight; we were committed, but we were going to be talking. I couldn't do this, not long term.

******

The room was but dimly lighted. He took her in his arms and kissed her, gently, but manly. She felt his power. She also felt his dick pressing against her lower belly. She pushed him back a bit and looked at him. His arms hung by his sides. He was in no hurry. This was going to take a while; he'd promised himself that.

"Nice," she said. "Nice."
"Thanks," he said, smiling.
"Can I tell you something?" said Jackson. She looked him askance. "Sure," she said.

"Emily, I've been through this many times. I know, pretty much, how you're feeling right now. What you want, expect. I also know what your husband is going through; I mean him becoming your cuckold, the jealousy, humiliation, all of it.

"Lots of the time, the ladies go through a period of buyer's remorse. They want a good screwing, and you're going to get it tonight, trust me on that one, but they almost always feel sorry for the husbands, at least initially, and so they often deny themselves true pleasure in the beginning."

"Danny and I have talked about that, Jackson. He's good. I'm good. It was his idea, actually. One I've bought into, but it was his idea originally."

The man smiled. "It's almost always initially the man's idea, Emily. And, regardless, tomorrow morning when you take him home, he's going to tell you, no more. It's over. You're going to argue with him; and eventually you'll settle it between you one way or the other," he said.

"But...?" she started.

"If you are kind to him, treat him—well—kinda like a little boy; you'll be able to control the situation: I mean his needs and your needs. If you lay ultimatums on him, it won't change his mind, and he might even leave you," said Jackson.

"Okay," she said. "Treat him good. I can do that."

"Yes, and little by little you can lead him to being a true cuckold. Not just the newbie that he's going to be for a while," he said.

"A true cuckold," she said.

"Yes. For example, a true cuck never has sex with a woman. He's condemned to be a kind of uncastrated eunuch for the rest of his life. He gets to eat you out, of course, clean up your lovers' leavings. He can help you dress, bathe you, that sort of thing. But, in the end he's a namby-pamby, a sissy, and quite literally your slave. And, he'll love you for the opportunity to serve you. Literally get down on his knees and kiss your feet every day in gratitude. But, these things happen, only if you bring him along slowly and without hurting him emotionally. It's a very delicate balance you have to achieve. Understand?" said Jackson.

"Wow, I think so," she said. "But, I'm not sure I want my husband to be a true cuck. It's all a little too over the top. I mean, well, we'll just have to see, I guess."

"And, that's a true fact," said Jackson.

******

We descended the stairs into the spacious basement. There were a dozen cages lining the walls around the room's perimeter. Each of them had a number welded onto its cage door. The doors were no more than two foot square. Anyone condemned to them had to get down on their knees to crawl inside.

This is yours, Danny," said Candace. "Kneel down." She keyed the padlock as I followed her instructions. She undid my leash and nudged me through the small opening and waited till I turned around to watch her snap the heavy padlock tight once more. The man in the back of the cage was naked, he wore blue panties.

"Candace...?"

"Don't worry, Danny. You'll be let out when your lady is done. Her room number is three, same as your cage here. There is a video feed to her room so she and Jackson can dial up any of the cages numbers, including yours, and watch what's happening if they so desire. If you and your cellmate there put on a good enough show; the two of them might actually come down and watch you in the flesh," she said. I swallowed. This was scary. I didn't feel in danger, actually, but I did feel— what—helpless maybe.

I watched Candace leave. I turned to see my cellmate. "My name's Paul," he said, "Paul Carton."
"Danny," I said, "Danny Lawson.

"We seem to be expected to perform," he said. "You interested? Ever done it with a man?"

"No, never done it with a man. As for being interested, maybe later. I don't know," I said.

"No problem," he said. "No pressure. I've done it a couple of times. My wife likes to watch me get it and give it. Says it turns her on like nothing else. And if I do it for her; well, I get to have her when we get home. You might say it's a hell of an incentive."

"Yeah, I guess that's so," I said.
"You're wearing a pick collar," he said, smiling. I nodded.

"That means your wife—the wife—wants her husband to be the, well, the girl, if you know what I mean," he said. I looked him askance.

"Wives have the option of watching their husband getting it or do the giving. You know in the butt. But, no one forces anyone here. It's up to the individual husband to agree or not. If you decide you want to get it for your wife's enjoyment, you don't have to say anything. Just assume the position and spread your legs wide enough for me to do you. Oh, and I do have KY with me, just in case," he said. I nodded. I was feeling very warm and very uncomfortable.

"You say your wife likes to watch you both give and get," I said. He nodded.

"Yes, each time can be different. Depends on the woman; we cuckolds have no say. The collars are a new thing, but not the idea if you get my meaning. The wife used to just tell Candace, or whoever was in charge, that night. But, now, the collar signals her wishes; she doesn't have to say anything," said Paul. I nodded.

"How long before they get going, I mean..."

"How long before you're a cuckold for real?" he said.

"Yes," I squeaked. He smiled at my discomfort.

"It varies, but, inside of an hour for sure. Don't worry. If your wife loves you, things will be fine, even fun. It's been fun for us. And, yes even me," he said.

We talked about our lives, families, jobs: got to know each other. As time wore on I was getting more and more nervous, antsy, scared. There was no clock, but after what I considered an hour had passed, I asked the question. "By now?" I said.

"Good bet," he said.


"What do I have to do?" He knew what I meant. "You sure?" he said.

"No, but I'm going to give it my best," I said. "I figure, if tonight is the test, I want to give it the best I've got to see if I can deal with it. If I can do it, tolerate it, okay. If not, then also okay. I tried. But..."

"Yeah, I know. You don't really know how to start," he said. "So okay, you're the girl. Let me lead, and you just obey. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. My stomach was doing flip flops, but I was kind of excited in a perverse sort of way.

"Come here, sissy," he said. He wasn't smiling, but his tone was kindly. He sat with his back against the back of the cage and spread his legs wide. His cock, which had been hard since I'd joined him in the cage stuck straight out in front of him. The roof of the cage was too low to stand I crawled on fours toward him. I couldn't look him in the eyes, so I stared at his engorged cock.

"Go on, touch, sissy," he said. I did as he commanded. I touched it, stroked it with my fingertips, and finally took it in my fist and stroked it up and down. I leaned in and let the glans of his penis slip into my mouth. I began to suck him. It wasn't too bad. The big news was that I was hard as a rock myself.

After some few minutes, he stopped me. "That's enough. I don't want to come too soon. I want my first load to go up your butt," he said. "lay down flat on the floor— face down." I did so. I heard him moving around behind and above me. I felt his finger and the cold sliminess of the KY jelly as he began priming me.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yes," I squeaked. "Just do it." He pushed my legs farther apart as he positioned himself to enter me. I felt the push. He was inside of me, only an inch or so, but he was inside of me. It didn't hurt, not really, not yet. I hoped it wouldn't be any worse than it already was.

He began the push and pull that was always part of screwing someone, man or woman. He was lying heavily on top of me as he continued to fuck me. I heard footsteps.

I was facing the walkway in front of the cage. I looked up. My wife stood there in her robe watching him do me. She looked—what—interested. Jackson, was there, also in his robe, but his monster cock was pushed through its folds pointing directly at me. I wanted it all to stop, but there was no way. I was going to get good and fucked, and that in front of my wife, and that was all there was to it. My humiliation was total.


I kept my eyes on my wife the whole time, trying to avoid even seeing Jackson and

his enormous cock. It had to have been at least ten inches. "Ready, sissy," gasped Paul, as he speeded up his pumping.

"Just finish it," I said. He did. I felt him ejaculate, washing my insides in his sperm. He relaxed. He rolled off of me.

Emily mouthed me a silent kiss, turned and followed her lover of the evening out once more. As they got further and further away from us and eventually out of sight, I began to feel very low, lower than I ever had before. I realized that there was no way I could endure this lifestyle over the long haul. She'd—we'd—had our moment, our experiment; and it wasn't going to work for us. Not for me it wasn't. She'd just have to understand. I feared the coming confrontation, but this time I would be adamant.

******

"He looked frightened," she said. "it's going to be hard on the way home, very hard."

"That's what I was saying earlier," said Jackson. "He, all newbies, is going to be very fragile for a while. You will need to be momma, lover, friend, teacher, everything. It's going to be tough in the early going; it always is for new cuckolds." She nodded.

He came to her, and she let her robe drop. He followed suit. He guided her to the bed where she opened her legs as wide as she could for the second round. He took her as she lay passive, surrendering to him completely.

******

It was almost 4:00AM when she finally came for me. Paul's wife, Denise, was there too; their timing was coincidental but a good thing as it would turn out. Jackson and whoever did Denise was not in evidence either, another good thing. Denise had the key to our cell and our clothes. She let us out and the two women removed our collars. Following that, we dressed hurriedly: we were anxious to get home to our rewards; well, Paul was. I figured to have a problem with Emily for sure. I could tell by her demeanor that she was happy with the experiment. I was horny and wanted a reward too, but not at the price I was sure I was going to have to pay. The women gabbed the whole time we were dressing.



I noticed that Paul had put his blue panties back on. I had shucked my lavender ones and left them in the cage. No one seemed to notice—yet. But, I wouldn't be wearing them, ever again. Yeah, it was going to be frigid in Lawsonville for a while, maybe real frigid.

Finally, with our clothes on and introductions over with the four of us walked out together. We two men trailed behind our wives who talked animatedly in front of us.

"Looks like the two of them will get along okay if you guys keep coming back here," said Paul.

"We'll not be coming back, Paul. I've made my decision. It is just too scary for me," I said. "And, before you ask, no it isn't anything you did. It's the whole scene I guess."

"Well, okay brother. But, if you change your mind or want to get together outside of here, here's my card." I took it and slipped it into my pocket.

The whole scene had me going; it was strange as hell. Here I was liking a guy, as a friend, who had just fucked me in the ass; and, I'd willingly let him; and my wife had seen him do me. How the hell does anybody equate stuff like that with anything; I sure as hell didn't know. My excuse for letting it happen to me? I was horny as hell; I had to have something and Paul was all there was around. Now I knew why men in prison did the things they did.

******

The ride home was somber. She was doubtless doing the same as me: reliving the hours just gone.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said. I looked over at her.

"It's too scary, "Em. Don't wanna do it anymore. I'm invoking our deal. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from."

"I kinda expected you to be a bit skittish after this first time," she said. "We need to wait a little and talk some more about this before making a final decision. Would that be okay?"

"We can talk 'Em; hell, we will talk. But, in the end we won't be going back. I tried. I mean I really tried. In the end I discovered that I just couldn't do it. Give me credit for trying 'Em; give me credit for that much," I said.

"I do give you credit for that, Danny. Oh my, yes indeed I do. I know it must have been hard on you there tonight. But can I ask you a question?" she said.

"Sure, I guess,"

"Could you tell me, I mean at any time, were you, well, stimulated by it all? You know hot?' she said. I looked at her. It was a fair question.

"You know, that's hard to say. I was so terrified most of the time—well I just don't know—I'm not sure," I said. She nodded.

"Jackson said that this might be your reaction. He told me that it happens a lot to newbie cuckolds. They, the cuckolds, become so frightened about the possibility of losing their wives to studs like him that they sometimes, well, go off the deep end.

"Danny, all I'm asking for is a chance to sell the product here. You know after our nerves, and yes that means my nerves too, have calmed some. Some of this scares me too," she said.

"Scares you? Why?" I said.

"Danny, I watched you tonight; you know, getting it in the butt by another man. On the one hand it was hot watching it. On the other—well—it worried me. It worried me a lot. I can't even tell you why it worried me, at least not in any coherent way, but it did. Can you understand that?" she said. "Oh, and for the record, I noticed you left your panties behind. That kind of cued me to the things you're saying right now, your feelings about it all I mean." I nodded.

"I didn't think anyone noticed. I left them in the cage," I said. "Yes, I saw them, like I said."

"We'll talk tomorrow, if that's all right," she said. "We need to be calmer. I know I do. But, no matter what, please believe me when I say that I love you and only you. And, I will honor your demands if you really decided to end it after we talk. Okay?"

"Yes, that's what I want and need," I said. "But, though I am willing to talk, my mind is made up, 'Em, I hope you're getting this. I really really mean it." I pulled into the driveway, parked, and looked around at her once more.

"I'm tired too. Let's get to bed," I said.

******

Waffles! My favorite. Well, I knew that something of the kind was likely in the offing. This would be the morning of our discussion/confrontation on the subject of the hour. I feared it, and I was of the opinion that so did she.

Into our second cups of coffee, and with our syrup smeared plates pushed back. We sighed in unison. She smiled. I did too.

"Well, here we are. I'm a cuckold. You're a hot wife. And, I am not comfortable with either of those, and I want to end the experiment and that without regret, recriminations, or even a lot of talk. The balls in your court," I said, surrendering the floor to her.

"I can understand you reticence, Danny. But, from my perspective, I see the matter in a different light. I see it as a non-threatening, to us, a fantasy that's fun; limited in the sense that it won't be but a once a month thing if even that often; and I see it as fulfilling for both of us even while granting that at first it must be kinda scary for you or for any man," she said.

"You were the one getting satisfied, Emily. Me? I was locked up in a cage, butt fucked, and humiliated beyond endurance when that Jackson fellow flashed me his cock while Paul was doing me. That particular insult, and it was an insult, was the catalyst, as I see it now, for my wanting to invoke our agreement," I said. She frowned when I mentioned Jackson's display; she'd apparently not seen it.

"I'll certainly talk to Jackson, Dan. I'm sure he only meant it in a teasing way, but I can understand how you might have seen it differently. I will most definitely mention it to him. It won't happen again, I mean if after our talk we do decide to continue with the—experiment.

"Look, I know this is a hard thing for you, Dan, like I've said. But if you could just see your way clear to try a little longer, I promise to go slow in bringing you—us— along. You know to make it nice for the both of us. Give you your fantasy in the best possible rendition of it. Get something out of it for myself too. You know, make it a positive thing for the both of us," she said. "I'd really like to see us give it a little more of a chance to work for us."

"Emily, let me ask you a question straight up. Isn't one of the requirements for us to continue at the mansion that eventually I be cut off from having intercourse with you?" I said.

"Well, I..." she paused. "Well, I think it's usual for most cuckolds, but not for us," she said. I can promise you that. Would that be okay?"

"So, anytime I wanted you, even if your bull said different, we'd do it. You'd let me have you. Right?" I said.

"Well—sure—I mean of course. I mean you're my husband. You come first always," she said.

"You hesitated, 'Em. That tells me that there would be rules that even I couldn't break, not easily at any rate. The thing is, Emily, that there will be no more of it, the experiment. None. I am invoking our agreement. Are you going to abide by our agreement or not? That's pretty much the long and the short of it for me," I said. She took on a frustrated expression.

"I will abide by it, Danny; I did promise. I wish you'd lighten up and try to see my side of it though. Maybe do it a few more times to see how it goes. One night does not a lifestyle make," she said.

I ignored her ploy. "Good, you said you'd abide by our agreement. I appreciate that. Matter closed forevermore," I said. Her sigh was louder than her earlier one.

I opened my arms and she came to them, a little reluctantly I thought, but she did come. We kissed, and went back to finishing our coffees.

We talked a little more though not much was said about the past night's adventures per se. I had to hope that we'd not be revisiting the matter. I wanted it to be a dead issue, and the deader, the sooner, the better. Oh, that things might be little tense as the time for the next club night came around I was fully cognizant. But, I figured that as more time passed we'd be able to put the matter behind us. Well, that was my hope. And for a time it looked as though my hope had been realized—for a time it had.

******
"You talked then," said Jackson.

"Yes, and you called it. He is just too skittish to even hear of a compromise. Everything I said went in one ear and out the other. He's dead set against it, and getting him to come around to a more—what—liberal way of thinking is pretty much a non-happening," said Emily.

"I've seen the like a lot, Emily. Little white boy afraid of the big black boogieman. It's almost always this way with new cuckolds. That said, most of them, the cucks, come around eventually. They come around, that is, if they are convinced that the boogieman is not going to eat them all gone," said Jackson. "That, my dear, is your task, maybe even our task: yours and mine," he said.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Simple, convince him that neither I nor any other guy is a threat to him. Now, get what I'm saying, 'Em. I am not saying to get him to want to be a cuckold. That's already his fantasy; he'd love to be one. But, not, I repeat not, at the expense of his wife's love or his own sense of self-worth. He must feel absolutely safe and confident in your regard and love for him, or it's a no go," said Jackson, "and that regardless of the intensity of his fantasy." She nodded.

"Yes, I see what you mean. You put it so well, mister. I just wish I could get him to sit down with you, and let you kinda lead him into being what it is both he and I want to be. Does that make any sense?" she said.

"Perfect sense. And, at some point we may want to risk just that. But, let's wait a while. He's got to think it's his idea to want to talk about it. You badgering him will not do it, not even. And, him even seeing me would pretty much put an end to his ever coming around. But, all that said, there may come a time. We've just to bide ours," he said.

"So, okay. We bide our time. But let's not waste any more time today. You gonna fuck me or not?' she said, smiling.

"What do you think?' he said. He slowly began taking off his clothes a piece at a time, almost teasing her with the pace of it. She was already naked, and now she was naked and lying on the bed.

He stood by the bed his ten-inch cock swaying in front of him, her smile gone as she surveyed the threat to the walls of her vagina.

"That thing of yours is a little scary," she said.

"I've been told that," he said. "But, you'll get used to it—eventually!" he laughed.

******

Work had been tiring and I was looking forward to a night of food, TV, maybe a little foolin' around with Emily, and sleep—emphasis on the sleep.

As I turned the corner onto are street, I saw noticed the extra car in our driveway. It was a Chevy. I always preferred Chevys. My wife Toyota was next to it. With no reason whatsoever to be concerned about it, I was concerned about it—the car.

I pulled in parked and went inside. I stopped cold in my tracks.

"Hi, honey. You remember Jackson, right?" she said. I nodded, but very slowly. The big black stood, and offered me his hand to shake. I looked at it and ignored it. He relaxed and smiled. I wondered at that. Probably expected my reaction, I'd later suppose.

"We had a deal, Emily. What's studly here for," I said. She'd been smiling, now her smile morphed into a don't-be-that-way-smirk.

"He's just here to talk," said Emily. "He's a friend is all."

"Yes, Dan, she's saying it true. I am just a friend who dropped by to talk a little if that's all right," said Jackson.

"Talk a little. Let me guess. She's gotten you to try to talk me into going back to the mansion? That about it?" I said. "If so, you're wasting my time and yours."

He laughed. "Well yes, sort of," he said. "Any chance?"

"None," I said.

"Well, that's a shame, but I have another reason for being here," he said.

"Oh?"

"I'm here to invite you to a party, at my house," he said. "You and the missus of course."

"A party. Let me guess some more. There will be lots of sex and cuckolding and I get to be one of the cuckolds? Or maybe the only one, Right?"

"No, no, not this time. Just a patio party. Some of the guests will indeed be mansionites, if you know what I mean. I mean they're friends of mine too. But others are just folks from where I work and a few of my ****** is all. Maybe forty folks if everybody shows up," he said.

He'd stopped me. The only venue I had ever seen Jackson at was the mansion, and the only situation with him that I was familiar with was one where he was a bull— my wife's bull. I had never given a thought to the notion that he might actually have a regular life or a job or was part of a ******. But of course he had to have come from somewhere. In spite of myself I was intrigued. But, I still had a question or two.

"Were we to come, would there be the slightest pressure on me to do anything?' I said.

"Take a turn at the barbecue maybe, or tend bar. But, not the other thing," he said.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew that at the very least that there would be innuendo relating to the mansion or the things that happened there. But, I was a gambler in some respects and I actually felt that I was up to the challenge.

"Okay, then, count us in, unless of course you don't' want to go, honey," I said, all but breaking out laughing. She smirked.

"No, I have no objection, Huunneeyy," she said carrying out the term dramatically. "Oh, good, I was concerned you might not want to," I said, and no I didn't laugh.

"Good then," said Jackson. "Thank you very much for your hospitality." And then he was gone.

******


The barbecue was in full swing by the time we arrived. And there had to be

upwards of sixty people not the forty Jackson has prognosticated the week before.

I did recognize a few people from the mansion including Paul and Denise.

"Danny, nice to see you. Surprised really," said Paul. "How's everything."

"Okay," I said. "Emily is over getting something from Jackson. I guess she left it at the mansion, and Jackson retrieved it for her. Where's your wife?"

"Right here, mister Lawson," said Denise. "Emily here too?" she said.

"Yes, she's over there. Be here in a minute," I looked to where she'd been talking to Jackson but a moment before, but now she was nowhere to be seen. "Hmm, well she was over there," I said.

Paul, Denise and I talked for a few more minutes, then I got to worrying. Then, I decided to go looking. I wished I hadn't. I found them in the house, in the bedroom: the one next to the john. Jackson was doing her up real good. I decided to interrupt their little soiree.

"You just couldn't keep your word, either of you, could you," I said. Jackson's head snapped around as Emily tried her damnedest to get out from under his bulk. "I'll be leaving now. Please do me the favor of not coming home for the next little bit. I need a couple of hours to get out of your way. Okay?" I said.

"Hey man, it was just a spur of the moment thing. I know how it must look, but it's not what you think," he said.

"What I think it looks like is you and her cuckolding me. Something you said you wouldn't do today. But, I guess lying comes as easy to you as my believing you could change comes to me," I said.

"Honey, please. Let's talk this out. It really isn't as bad as you think," she said.

"No, no more," I said. "I finally get it. Please don't try to stop me. That's all I ask," I said. I turned and walked fast. I made it to the car. Got in and drove off.

******

The apartment I found myself in a week later was the very definition of a tenement: dirty, noisy, and bug infested. And, in an odd way it suited me. I got a visitor.

"Nice," he said. I laughed.

"Yeah if you don't mind sharing a room with a bevy of wildlife," I said. "But let me ask. What are you doing here, Paul?"

"Heard you broke up with your wife, my wife's bull got the skinny from Jackson," he said. I nodded my understanding.

"Yeah, it's true. She and I are done. Except that is for all of the yelling and screaming in court and such." I said.

"Well, if it's any consolation. My wife and I are on the rocks too," said Paul. He got a raised eyebrow from me over that announcement.

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah, she's shacking up with Demetrius, the bull of the hour, and evidently loving it," he said.

"Yeah, well, I guess we've got a lot in common then, huh?" I said.

"Seems like.

"Whatcha thinking about doing?" he said. "I mean long haul."

"Don't know really. I'm just doin' stuff day to day. You know?" I said.

"Yeah, me too. For the record, your wife is beside herself with concern for you; I mean since you've been gone."

"Yeah, well she hasn't tried very hard to find me," I said.

"Actually she has. She knows where you are. She's just afraid to come to you," he said.

"And you would know that how?" I said.

"She told me, your wife. I went looking for her before my breakup with Denise. Figured I might be of some help to you two guys. Anyway, that's how I found you? I got it from her. She wants her cake back, but I do think she still wants to eat it too," he said.

"You mean Jackson. You mean she still wants me to be her willing cuckold," I said. "'Bout the size of it," he said.


"Yeah well, when it snows where the devil lives," I said.

"Dan, you and I are cuckolds. And, that whether we like it or not. And we are willing cuckolds. Gotta admit it. We can go kicking and screaming to our fates but we will go. It's who we are—the both of us. And our women...

"They're cuckoldresses. It's who they are. They love us, but they need more than a couple of pussies like us to satisfy them sexually. Denise dumped me, but in your case it's the other way around. Hell, truth told, I wish I had your choices," he said.

"You say they love us, but Denise dumped you?" I said.

"Her bull got her to do it. She didn't want to, but he had power over her that I couldn't fight, not successfully. I know she loves me still, but I just don't measure up in ways that matter to her most, at least at the moment," he said.

"So what's your plan?" I said. "Same as you, don't know," he said.

"Hmm, fucking wonderful," I said. "Well, whatever. I guess living without a woman isn't the worst thing that could happen to me."

"Yeah, well it's the worst thing that could happen to me. I would do almost anything to get my wife back. I was okay with being her cucky. But, going to bed at night without her being there is real bad. I need her. I need her around me," said Paul.

His words struck home. My nights were pretty lonely too. I needed the warmth of her body, her breath, even her flopping around sometimes like she did. Helluva note.

"You know, Paul, really, I'm in the same boat as you. I need my woman. Trouble is she doesn't seem to need me. Looking back on everything now, I can't imagine how I allowed things to go so far. And all because I was okay with her cuckolding me—in principle. The reality of that is what did us in. I guess you could say that jealousy drove me from her, or, maybe it was her from me. You tell me which it was because I sure as hell don't know," I said.

"Yeah, I can dig it. And no, I don't know the answer to your question. I just know that in my case it was her bull that kicked me out. I mean she was the one to do his dirty work, but it was his idea. She told me so. So, now, I spend my nights in bars crying in my beer," I said.

"Me too," I said, "me too for sure." We talked for some time. But, in the end, the both of us, had nothing so much as the vague hope that somehow, someway things could be worked out.

******

It was some weeks later that I had a visitor, a very much of a surprise visitor. It was a Thursday evening. I'd come in from work draggin' and more than usually despondent wondering what my wife was doing, thinking. I answered the doorbell.

"Jackson!" I said.

"Yes, Jackson, me," he said. "Can I come in?" I hesitated.

"I won't bite, Danny. Fact is I'm here to maybe do us both a favor. Well the hope is anyway," he said. I nodded, and motioned him inside. Aside from voicing his name at his appearance at my door, I hadn't spoken word one to him. I pointed to the divan across the room; he took the proffered seat.

"I've got a problem," he said.

"And?" I said, finally uttering an utterance.

"And, well, it's kind of your problem too," he said.

"And?" I said.

"Emily is pissed. No, that's not right. She's really angry. She's angry with me, with you, and, I'm thinking maybe even herself," he said.

"And," I said.
"Not much of a conversationalist are you," he said, smiling kinda wistfully.

"Guess not," I said. "Look, Jackson, say what you came to say if you haven't already; so I can get back to my business," I said.

"You need to try again. Give her another chance," he said. "To do what?" I said.

"To be your wife, and yes, your cuckoldress. It would serve your best interests and hers, and okay, mine too," he said.

"You came here to tell me that knowing our history? You've got to be kidding," I said.

"The only thing that our history, as you call it, demonstrates is that you love her, but are afraid to risk her leaving you for some mythical big black cock. I can't even begin to tell you how remote such a proposition is," he said. "What is also true, is that she isn't with you now only because of your fears. She wants to be with you."

"Really?" I said.

"And, I'll tell you something else," he said. "I want her to be with you. I want her to have you be the one cuddling with her at night. Oh, I won't deny that I want to fuck her. And, further, I won't deny that she wants me to fuck her. But, I also know that she wants you to be the one she comes home to, to love her and make love to her and protect her and provide for her; and yes, to allow her to have her fun on the side cuckolding you." I stared at the man. He had balls of titanium for damn sure.

"And, why would you believe for a fraction of a New York minute that what you've just laid out for me would interest me in the least?" I said.

"You're kidding right. I know you're crying in your beer virtually every night. You miss her every bit as much as she misses you, and your fucking shitass ego is the only thing standing in the way of all of us getting what we want out of life. Deny it if you dare!" He said. I considered what he'd just said.

"You're wrong about one thing. There's no virtually about it. I cry in my beer every night. My ego? Maybe, but it's a mighty big assed fear that makes me skittish about the whole cuckolding thing, the lifestyle," I said.

"And, I understand that. And, I know you're the only one who can fix your problem, I mean your fears. But, and I know this for an absolute fact; it can be fixed," he said.

"I will say you've given me stuff to think about. But, I can tell you right now; I am not at a place where I can live a life of stress and vague hope; not nearly at a place like that," I said. "Tell her that. If I like how she reacts to those words—well— maybe then we'll have something to talk about," I said.

******
"Yes, that's what he said," said Jackson.

"Whatever gave you the idea that I wanted you to go to him, and talk for me," said Emily.

"No one. I was just tired of watching you drawing more and more inward. You're a gorgeous woman, 'Em, but not gorgeous enough to throw my fun lifestyle away for. And, unless your hubby is lying to me, and I know he's not; you need to—how did he say it—react positively to what he needs and wants, I think was the gist."

"You still should've talked to me first," she said.
"You can beat me later; I mean after I do you," he said, smiling.

"I just might," she said.

He was already unbuckling his belt.

******

He knocked on the door. The door opened. "Didn't take long for you to get here," said Denise.

"I was in the neighborhood," said Danny. "I was really wanting to speak to Paul."

"He's out of town on Business. Yes, yes, I know I should have told that you when you called. But, then I thought; I knew what you wanted, and frankly you need me not Paul. Paul's a wimp just like you," she said.

"I can see you are not getting what I'm..."

"You want to get back with your wife and you need someone to give you advice and hold your hand when you make the effort. Right? I mean just like Paul and I have," she said. That she was spot on notwithstanding was mildly irritating, but the fact was that she was spot on. I just stared at her.

Over the course of the next half hour, we shared a bottle of wine, talked about nothing worth talking about, and then we did.

"So have you made up your mind what you want to do wimp?" she said, she was not giggling. I gave her a hard look which did nothing to change her look or attitude.

"I'm not a wimp," I said.


"Whatever," she said. "Have you made up your mind?"

"I guess. I want to make the effort, as you put it. I just don't know how. I don't want to be without her, but to be totally out of control..."

"Actually, I can understand your concern. Paul—we went through the same stage of discontent if that's the right way to say it, and we just now barely made it back," she said. "But, unless, I miss my guess, and I almost never do, Emily won't let that happen. She loves you Danny. She also loves the sexual lifestyle you more or less introduced her to. So, I guess it's your call; give her one, a call that is. Talk to her; it can't hurt.

"Denise, you were right. I think you were the right one to talk to; I mean instead of Paul," I said.

"He would have given you about the same advice anyway," said Denise. I smirked.

"Yeah maybe," I said.

******

"Yeah, Beulah's Bistro, noon time," I said. I hung up after her agreement to be there.

She was late. I'd already killed my grilled cheese and the Heineken I'd washed it down with. I glanced in the direction of the doorway just in time to see her hot footing it inside.

"Hi Danny," she said Breathing hard. "I ran out of gas. Lucky I was only half a block from a gas station, but well..."

"Yeah it made you late," I said. I wondered just how hard up for cash she was. For some damn reason I still felt responsible for her. I knew she and Jackson were sharing expenses, but maybe not as efficiently as might be.

"Yes, yes it did," she said. "I'm sorry, okay. I really tried to be on time..."

"Okay, okay no harm no foul," I said. And, then I ran out of words. She picked up the slack.

"Danny?" she said. I spread my arms in a I-don't-know-what-to-say gesture.

"Danny, I'm sorry about before. You know, at the party. It really was spur of the moment. It just kinda happened."

"Emily, can I ask, what would you like to see happen?' I said. "I mean if you even want anything short of a divorce to happen."

"Ideally? For you and I to mend our fences and get back together as a functioning ****** again. Danny, that's what I'd like to see happen. Really," she said. I nodded.

"Me too," I said. "I'm just scared. Have been since the beginning. But—I talked to Denise Carton. She's the one that said I needed to talk to you one more time. You know, try to get by my fears and bad feelings. Well, you know."

"That's wonderful honey. But, I've had a long conversation with Jackson. He advised me to just put an end to cuckolding you and to get back to our regular lives.

"Emily..." I started and stopped.

"Yes?" she said.

"I need you to cuckold me. I've always needed it. But, needing and being able to deal with it; well, I just don't know. The bad news is neither do you. If we did we wouldn't be in this pickle," I said.

Huh?" She was clearly not understanding what I was saying. Or, understanding, was afraid to react to it, what I was saying.

"Denise—well—Denise hit it on the head. I didn't accept it at first, but then I did," I said.

"Hit what nail on the head? Accept what?" said Emily.

"That I'm a wimp. That I need you to lead in things sexual. That I want to see you satisfied and happy in ways that are—well—are beyond me. So, I am willing to be your cuckold finally and permanently. I just hope you'll have mercy on me once in a while if you know what I mean," I said. "But, I will no longer place any conditions on you—us—of any kind. I only ask that you take me back and love me like you always have."

"Huh?" she said.

We talked for a little while longer. She finally got the message, and seemed to be willing to believe that such a complete change of position on my part was not only possible, but a done deal.

"Honey, okay," she said. "And, have no fear, you will get to have me from time to time. I love you way too much to deny you for life. You and I will talk some more, but right now I'm going to go into the bedroom and faint. Then, I'm going to wake up and think about everything you've said before we have our next little talk. Okay?"

We did talk that night. We decided to give the manse thing another shot. I would go through the initiation they evidently have in place and become a true cuckold completely subject to my wife's whims relating to anything sexual. I was excited and so was she. It was going to be a very interesting and hopefully stimulating time for us.

******

Our preparations for our return to the manse took all day. Well, it did for Emily. Me, a couple of hours.

She looked gorgeous, I looked okay. She was nervous; well, it was truth time: could we do it, would I change my mind when the time came for me to surrender to her and to her bull of the night. Hell, I was as nervous as she was, but, I was also determined. I was committed. I would have to be trusting that she would be a good wife and a merciful cuckoldress. The good news was that I was confident that she would.

She stood in the doorway, in her knee length black evening dress and stared at me. "Ready honey?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes. And, Emily?" I said. "Yes?"

"I won't let you down," I said. I meant it too. She came to me and kissed me gently on the lips.

"You're my husband, Daniel. You have nothing to fear. I will make it my business to see to it that as my cuckold you will be happy as a clam. Just trust me," she said.

"It's time to go, I guess," I said.
"Yes. Did you put them in the car?" she said. I knew what she meant.

"Yes, they're in there. It's the one thing about tonight that, frankly, I'm not sure of; but, yes, I put the evil things in the car." She smiled.

"It won't be that bad. You're going to be mighty uncomfortable for a bit, but you'll live," she said. She wasn't quite laughing. I shivered.

******

We arrived at the manse about half an hour early. Emily was holding our little package; she handed it to Arnold; she seemed to know what to do. I got a smile from Arnold, the same guy who'd greeted us that first time, seemingly so long ago now.

"Going to join us for real, now, huh mister Lawson?" he said. I nodded. "Yes, I guess we are," I said. "We're early?"

"A little, no problem. Why don't the two of you just go get a drink at the bar. Things will star in about thirty minutes," he said.

"Yes, that would be good," said Emily. She took me by the hand and led me to the bar where we both ordered white wine.

"Nervous, honey?" she said.
"A little. But, I'll be okay once things actually get underway," I said.
"I know," she said. "You know I am very proud of you, Daniel. You're the best." "Well, hello," said Jackson, coming up to us just at that second.
"Hello," I said. Emily just smiled.
"So tonight's the night," he said.

"Yes, I suppose it is," I said. "You okay?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so. Emily and I have talked about it. I think we're good. Aren't we, honey?" I said.

"Yes, yes we are," she said. "We definitely are."

The three of us gabbed for the next fifteen minutes or so, and then Arnold interrupted us to let us know that we were five minutes from starting. I swallowed hard. I knew the drill. I'd been so informed by Paul the day before. At least Jackson avoided the temptation to smirk.

"Good luck to all of us," he said. I think he meant it.

We headed out to the garden area where a few other cuckolds-to-be were waiting with their wives to be initiated. They were already wearing their collars. The only thing that bothered me a little was that they were all wearing blue collars.

A young girl, probably early twenties but looking more like a junior high schooler, came up to us.

"You're the Lawsons right?" she said. "Yes we are," said. Emily.
"Pink or blue?" she said.

Emily gave me a look, smiled and looked back at the girl. "Pink for my little sissy," she said. The girl smiled broadly. She handed the pink collar to my wife. I knew my face was as red as a beet.

"Turn around honey so I can fasten this onto you," she said. I felt her wrap it around my neck, adjust it and tighten the buckle. I felt her snap shut the little padlock that guaranteed my humiliation as a sissy cuckold for the rest of the night.

"There," she said, "everyone will know you're my sissy boy now. This is going to be fun." Arnold came up to us.

The little girl, for such she was in stature, came around to face me full on. I have to pants you, sir," she said. "You have to go up there naked from the waist down. Please kick off your shoes; we'll leave your socks on." I complied and she proceeded to undo my pants and pull them down. My underpants were next.

"It's time to go up to the scaffold," said Arnold, who'd been standing by watching the proceedings. Emily frowned.

"Sorry, honey, but you know..."

"Yes, I know," I said.

On the raised platform, that Arnold had referred to as the scaffold, were six sets of stocks. There were lengths of rope hanging loosely on all of them. The stocks were all facing inward. Once our heads were to be locked in place and our butts would be facing outward toward the audience. I saw our little package at the base of the one of the stocks with the number four emblazoned on it. I swallowed. It was six-to-five and pick 'em what was going to be worse for me: the doubtless savage spanking that I was about to endure, or the absolutely crushing humiliation that would follow it. Whatever, Emily led me forward to number four.

"You okay, honey? This is it. It's going to sting, I know, but it won't last too long," she said.

"I—I—guess so. I just hope I don't disgrace myself," I said.

"You won't. I have confidence in you. It's been kind of a long road, but we're here now. It's time to do it."

I nodded. The time for words was over. It was, as she said, time to get it done.

"Turn around, honey, I need to tie your hands behind you back. As I did so, I saw her reach for one of the strands of rope that hung from stock. "Put your hands behind your back, dear. I did as she said and she secured my hands, quite tightly. Now, bend forward, honey so I can lock your head down into the stock. Again, I obeyed her. I felt the heavy overhead branch of the stock as it was lowered over me securing me from any significant movement. I noticed on of the other rope strands disappearing to my left.

"Put you ankles together, honey, I need to tie them together too," she said. I did and she said.

A final strand of rope disappeared from my left and I felt her binding my thighs just above my knees. I was going nowhere, and there would be no mercy now. I was condemned to endure whatever was done to me.

While my wife had been preparing me for punishment, other wives had been doing the same to five other soon to be initiated husbands. All of them looked to be as apprehensive as I'm sure I did. It was strange, but, I felt a kind of camaraderie with my fellow cuckolds. I supposed, that at some point, we'd be introduced to each other, but as for that, I really didn't know for sure.

Emily came around to the front of the stock and touched my cheek. I noticed the other wives doing something of the same.

"Honey, Maribel, the girl we met a few minutes ago, will be the one to whip you. I will be behind you watching, but I will not be asked to spank you myself. I love you." And, then she was gone. I'd said nothing. I felt as though I were in some kind of zone.

I actually felt the footsteps, or maybe heard them, of the girl. She said nothing, but I sensed her behind me. And then? And then I was seeing stars. The switch began to take a toll on my conscious self. I wasn't at all sure I could do it, endure it. Then, I heard the first screams from my fellow sufferers. I was going to hold out. I would not beg or scream or anything. I was going to make it no matter what.

The howling continued for some minutes. I had been doing my best to count, to keep an accurate count of the lashes across my naked buttocks; I reached seventy- seven. The other husbands were crying and screaming to be let out of their stocks. A couple of them were alternately cursing and begging for mercy. Their prayers were not heard let alone answered; their punishments continued steadily.

Me? On number seventy-eight I howled. I'd tried. But, now I surrendered. I began to alternately sob and howl in agony. Now, I had nineteen to go. I tried to sag down to avoid the switch but there was no way. My legs bound as they did not allow for any significant dodging of the punishing instrument that was torturing my backside. I began to choke on my own spit.

Then it was over.

******

The girl, Maribel, had come up to raise the bar that had imprisoned my head in the stock. Still bound, I sagged to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. I felt the girl releasing my legs first; then my wrists were undone from the rope. I rubbed them furiously. I felt my butt, but I couldn't really rub it. Delicate didn't even begin to describe their state at that moment.



Someone was trying to lift me to my feet. I saw Emily just a few feet away smiling! I knew that smile. It was one of pride. She was proud of me! I looked up; it was Jackson. He was the one trying to help me. I wanted to thank him and kill him at the same time. Confused did not, could not, adequately describe my state of mind.

"You did good, Danny," he said.

"Fucking wonderful," I said. "I think you set a record for enduring it before cutting loose..."

"Before I started screaming, right," I said. He smiled, but he also nodded.

Emily joined us as Jackson helped me down from the scaffold. "Honey, you were so strong. I was so proud of you," she said. Just then one of the other husbands who'd been imprisoned in the stocks and his wife crossed in front of us on their way toward the front door., or so I thought. They stopped. She was trying to console him. He turned his back to her and continued walking. Turned again and came back to her. She said something. He answered her. Then, from way out of left field he delivered a haymaker to her left jaw that lifted her clean off the ground and sent her spiraling through the air some little distance before she came to rest about fifteen feet to our left. She was out.

A couple of big black guys took hold of him and hustled him out. Jackson gave me a look.

"Don't worry, Jackson; you're safe from me," I said. He smirked but didn't say anything.

"Dan, you okay?" he said.
I snickered. "Is that a serious question?" I said.

"I mean..."

"Yeah, I guess," I said. He nodded. He wasn't being arrogant or anything, but I had the feeling that his look was meant to carry a message. I knew I'd be figuring that one out soon enough.

"Honey," said Emily. She sounded—what—nervous maybe. I smiled at her.

"I'm tougher than that," I said. She visibly relaxed.

"I know, honey. I know. You were..."

"Yeah, I know, a hero. Right?" I said. She giggled. Jackson for his part was being a little on the quiet side, letting us have our moment.

"Damn straight," she said. I think she actually meant it too.

"Let's not go directly to the room," said Jackson. I think we could all use a little drink." I gave him a look, then realized that he was right. Going to the room right away wouldn't be good. And, a drink—or six—would be more than good.

"Yes," said Emily. "Yes, let's do that. Is that okay with you, honey?" "Yes. That would be fine," I said.


******

We secured a table just a few feet off from the end of the bar.

I was slowly, very slowly sipping my martini. "I guess it went okay?" I said. The sting had died some over the past little time; I was actually able to sit, kind of a surprise.

The two of them were doing their level best not to upset me or force anything. They looked at each other.

"Look, you two. That guy that ran off. Well, it is what it is. I guess it was too much for him. For me? Not so much, though I have to say there were a few moments..."

"That's kind of the thing," said Jackson. "If the husband can do it; well, it says something about his—his and his wife's—chances of making it as a lifestyle. If he can't do it; well, that says something too, I guess.

"Yes, I think that's true," said Emily. "And we will make it, I think." It was my turn to say something meaningful.

'Me too" I said. "Let's drink up and go. It's time to do it to me." I smiled. The look on their two faces was precious. I was pretty sure I would be rewarded big time before it was all over.

The room was pretty much cheap-motel-room-esque. A small bedroom with a night stand; two rattan chairs; a king sized bed, that dominated the room; a totally inadequate closet; and a bathroom designed, I was sure, for dwarfs and living pencils.

"You can leave your clothes on for now, honey," said Emily, seeming to take control of the situation.

"Okay," I said. Jackson for his part just smiled and began to disrobe. Emily, still in her black evening dress and high heels lay down on the bed fully clothed; I found that interesting. I hadn't expected to be surprised by anything, but that was a surprise. Well, whatever, I was sure that she wouldn't be dressed for long.

Emily rolled over onto her side and watched as her lover sat on the side of the bed facing me. I had taken a seat a few feet from the bed to watch the proceedings.

"Come over here, honey, and kneel between Jackson's legs," she said. I knew what she was about, and I was a little skittish, but I obeyed her. This was the night that I became an unabashed and willing cuckold. I came to the man and knelt as I was told, and waited. Jackson laid back. His dick lay naked and turgid and huge on his athletic torso.

"Honey..." said Emily. I nodded and reached for the big man's cock, I stroked it a few times and leaned in to lick then suck at the purplish glans. I felt him jerk at the ticklish if pleasurable sensation. I felt him beginning to stiffen as an orgasm began to build in him. Suddenly my mouth and throat were awash in his semen. I swallowed as much as I could. Emily was smiling. Jackson sat up once again, patted me on the head, and nodded for me to retake my seat in the chair a few feet from the bed's edge.

Emily was smiling. It was a smile of pride if I read it right. Whatever else happened in the months and years ahead relating to such things, this moment was mine and Emily's not Jackson's and Emily's. I knew it, and I sensed that she knew it too.

I sat on my chair still fully clothed and watched as her lover felt her up and kissed her deeply and often.

I watched as he slipped her panties down her beautiful legs. He threw them to me. I sniffed the dampness that painted the crotch of them. God, my wife was a wonderful woman—female. I was becoming fearful; I needed her bad. Would she let me have her too? Was I, as her cuckold, to be denied intercourse with her, I mean so soon after this initiation. I prayed she would allow me a mercy fuck at the least.

Jackson mounted her missionary and probed her sex with his throbbing sex engine. He thrust himself into her; her eyes popped open and she grunted. He began seesawing in and out of her. Her eyes were glazed over in lust as he continued to fuck her . I was witness to her shattering climax as her body thrust up to meet his assault. The small of her back was many inches off the surface of the bed as she arched her body uncontrollably in her final throws of sexual release. She collapsed, as did he—on top of her before rolling off. The two of them lay side by side, heavily, breathing hard and lost in their own world of thought.

Emily looked over at me. "Jackson needs you again, dear," she said. I didn't hesitate. I got up and got on the bed with them. I knelt between his splayed legs and began licking and sucking him to life once more. It took a little while, but I got the job done.

I raised up and started to go back to my chair, but Jackson took hold of my arm and urged me back onto the bed. Emily had moved to the side a little and began pantsing me. My cock ******* and a question painting my face, my wife smiled at me.

Turn over onto your belly, honey, and raise your buns nice and high into the air. Jackson's going to fuck you. She was smiling broadly now. I knew that it might happen but it was something of a surprise anyway. I obeyed her, but I was a little bit slow about it. She used her hands to help flip me.

On my belly and naked from the waist down, I raised my buttocks high as she had directed and waited for him to do what he was going to do.

"Here, Jackson," said Emily. She handed him a tube of something. I was guessing KY. He smiled. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Emily touched the side of my face. "Just relax and let Jackson do you. It'll be a little uncomfortable at first, but you'll get to like it at some point. Really," she said, with knitted brow.

As she said what she said, I could feel Jackson lubing my anus with his fingers, at least three of them. I did try to relax. There was no escape for me, so my best bet was to make it as easy on myself as possible.

His fingers pulled out of me. I could feel him positioning himself behind me. I felt odd. Humiliating though it was, I found myself looking forward to it—him doing me —but mildly concerned about it as well. Like I said, odd.

His cock began pushing into me. God he was big. I grunted and strained and started gasping short breaths.

"It's okay, honey, he's mostly in now. Just surrender yourself to what's happening to you. Don't fight it. It'll be all right," said Emily. And it was, well, if not exactly all right, not too bad. He unloaded inside of me. He cum added lube to the KY he'd primed me with. He began to shrink out of me. My turn to collapse onto my stomach. I just lay there with my eyes shut taking in short gulps of air.

There was no fucking doubt about it now; I was a cuckold, a willing and totally humiliated cuckold. I made myself, I told myself, it was what I wanted, had always wanted. But deep down lurked fears. I hoped against hope that Emily and I could overcome them together. I would need her. Without her there was no making it for me.

******

I opened my eyes; it was two in the morning; she was kissing me. "You were wonderful," she said. I glanced over to the other side of the bed. Jackson was standing there.

"You're sure you don't want me to stay the night; we're allowed to?" he said. He said it to her.

"No, no, my husband and I need to get home and be together for the next several days. I learned last night just how much he loved me and what he would do for me, to see to it that I was pleasured. So, no, you needn't stay the night. But, thank you," said Emily. "It was very good." I lay there surprised by her words. I think Jackson was too.

He was already getting dressed. I looked askance at Emily.

"He's just going home cucky. It's just you and me now. We're going home too. We're going home and you are going to screw me senseless. Okay?" I know my smile of relief cued her before my words did.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Oh yeah!"

******

Though my striped ass was still somewhat sore, I was able to drive. My beautiful wife was leaning against my shoulder, her hand absently massaging my thigh.

We'd been silent since getting in the car for the ride home. Now, she decided to talk.

"You okay?" she said.

"Yes. I have to admit, I was worried though. I needed you today—tonight. So, since I am going to get to have you. Well, yes, I'm very okay," I said.

"I know you need it. And every time you let Jackson or another man have you; you'll be getting it. I made that decision when I saw how hard it was for you to take him, and how willingly you did so. You are definitely my main man," she said. I sighed. I wondered how long it would be before I got to have her again if I had to wait for her lover of the moment to fuck me. Well, we'd be seeing about that I guessed.

The one thing that I knew for sure was that the next little while was going to be special. There definitely was hope.