Submissive Husbands - Cuckold story

The Proposition Ch 4

by Wayne C. Rogers

The month of June had been a real bitch!

Stuart Hamilton, the man my wife had been dating on a regular basis for several weeks, had been a real asshole for the entire time and had eventually pushed her too far with his insistent demands and unreasonable expectations. When Danielle had started seeing him back in May, they’d quickly established a dominant and submissive relationship with him as the Master. One of her secret fantasies had been to submissively serve another man as a slave, and he’d definitely put her through her paces. I’d been forced to watch them have sex on a number of different occasions and had actually grown to enjoy it. The only problems we’d had with the love triangle was that Stuart didn’t want Danielle having sex with me, which she didn’t seem to mind in the least. Also, since he was paying her five hundred dollars each time they got together for sex, Stuart decided that he didn’t want her seeing anyone else as well.

My wife had a real problem with that.

Danielle was already dating a number of other men on the side, plus she had several high rollers who would fly into Vegas every so often to spend the weekend with her. She tried to hide her other affairs from Stuart, but he gradually began to demand that she account for her time away from him. My wife put up with it for about a month and then told him to fuck off. Money or no money, she wasn’t going to be put in a position where she had to answer to any man.

Period.

I think both she and I breathed a deep sigh of relief when Stuart was finally out of the picture. There were simply too many men out there in the world who were interested in getting into my wife’s panties, so there was no reason for her to allow one man to control every aspect of her life.

It was Tuesday morning in the second week part of July.

Both Danielle and I had taken the week off from our respective jobs. The children, Elizabeth and Steven, were out of town with their grandparents. They’d gone down to Anaheim, California to visit Disneyland for a few days. This gave my wife time to work on her two websites on the Internet and for me to do some extensive rewriting on my newest erotic novel, The Ten Days Of Submission.

In fact, I was upstairs in the study, working on my novel when I suddenly heard the sound of the front doorbell ringing. Glancing at the small clock on the desk, I saw that the time was 11:04A.M.

“Would you go answer the door for me?” Danielle called out from the bedroom. “Timothy’s here.”

Getting up from the desk, I stepped out into the hall and saw my wife standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, brushing her long brownish-blonde hair. She was wearing dark green panties with a matching bra and garter belt, skin tone nylons, and green stiletto-heeled shoes. I walked over to Danielle and kissed her on the lips. For a brief moment, she pressed up against me, and I felt the heat radiating from her body.

“Go let Timothy in,” she said, pulling away from me, “and bring him upstairs.”

“Wasn’t the date scheduled for tonight?”

“I changed my mind.”

Danielle turned around and walked back over to the dresser bureau so that she could finish brushing her hair and put on some lipstick. I watched the seductive swing of her hips and felt myself becoming aroused with desire. Putting a hold on my erotic thoughts, I headed downstairs to let her lover in.

As I entered the foyer, the doorbell rang a second time. I opened the front door and saw Timothy standing there, dressed in jeans, a knit shirt, and running shoes. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear and was telling someone that the meeting was going to be at two o’clock. Nodding his head at me, Timothy told the other person on the line that he would probably be a little late, but to go ahead and start the meeting without him. He then clicked off the phone and shrugged his shoulders at me.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I should’ve left the phone at the office.”

“No problem.”

I stepped aside so that he could enter the foyer and then closed the door behind him. We walked into the living room for a minute of manly talk, each of us trying to make the other feel more comfortable with the situation.

“How’s your novel coming along?” he asked.

“It’s almost finished,” I answered. “I have about thirty pages left to do on the final draft, then it’s off to the publisher.”

“Is it the same publisher that did your other books?”

“Yeah.”

“Expect to see any real money from it?”

“Since I now have a strong fan base, I’m hoping the publisher will do a first printing of three thousand copies. That would generate enough money for a down payment on the swimming pool that Danielle wants.”

“I remember her mentioning it a few weeks ago. How much is the pool going to set you back?”

“The one she wants will run close to twenty grand.”

“Damn,” Timothy replied. “You’re going to have to write a few more novels to pay for that baby.”

“I know.”

“Where’s the little lady?”

“Upstairs.”

“I’d better not keep her waiting.”

“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea,” I agreed. “She hates it when a man does that to her.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I’ve already felt her wrath more than once at being late.”

“I’ll take you up to the bedroom.”

I led the way upstairs and down the short hallway. When we entered the master bedroom, I saw my wife sitting on the side of the bed with a small glass ashtray in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Her legs were crossed, and her right foot was swinging impatiently back and forth. Danielle stared at us for a second with obvious irritation written all over her beautiful face; then, grinding the cigarette out, she sat the ashtray down on the nightstand and stood up.

“Both of you know that I don’t like to be kept waiting,” she stated.

“It’s my fault,” I said. “We were talking about the swimming pool you want to get for the backyard.”

The frown on her face swiftly changed to a bright smile at the mention of her future pool. Danielle had already talked to a construction company about putting in the swimming pool. She had a design picked out (a small tropical lagoon with a mini waterfall) and the estimated price of building it. The advance from my new novel would cover the down payment, and it would take at least six more books to pay it off.

I was going to have to start writing faster!

Danielle snapped her fingers once as a signal for me to get down on the floor in a slave’s position with head bowed in submission. I was surprised by this unexpected action. I’d intended to go back to my room to finish my novel. As I got down on my hands and knees, she moved into Timothy’s arms, and they began to passionately kiss each other. I kept my eyes directed on the floor for a while, listening to the sounds of their foreplay. Eventually, curiosity won out, and I looked up at my wife and her lover to see what they were up to.

Timothy had moved behind her.

He had his left arm draped casually around her slim waist, while his other hand cupped her right breast. I knew he had an erection straining against the front of his jeans and that it was pressed firmly against her buttocks as he worked his lips and tongue down the side of her neck, kissing her with ardent desire. Danielle’s eyes were closed as she savored the intense sensations that were rushing through her body. I could see her buttocks beginning to grind anxiously against his pelvis, and I heard a soft, deep moan of sexual pleasure escape from between her lips.

It made me think back to our wedding night.

Danielle had already been seeing Timothy for a little over eight months by the time we finally got married. They had an excellent sexual relationship going. In fact, it was so good that Timothy had told Danielle that if she ever remarried, he’d want to continue seeing her on the side, with or without her husband’s knowledge.

She felt the same way.

My wife, of course, was a player. She loved men, and she loved having sex with them. The more, the merrier was her motto. Danielle thrived on having men desire her, and it kept her feeling young and sexy. Even more, she got off on men spending money on her. She knew that the hardest thing any man could do was to reach deep into his pocket, pull out the money, and spend it on the woman of his desire. The men who got to first base with her were those who were not only exceptional in bed, but were also generous at heart.

Marrying me didn’t slow her down in the least. I knew how she was before we got married; and, in truth, I didn’t want her to change. I found her affairs to be exciting, and it definitely made our own sexual relationship stronger and more potent.

Things between her and Timothy therefore couldn’t have worked out better when I eventually came into the picture. Being the type of man who desired to sexually submit to a strong woman, Danielle used this facet of my personality to her full advantage by agreeing to marry me, if I willingly gave up all of my rights as a husband and became her slave.

This was exactly what we both wanted.

It not only fulfilled my darkest sexual fantasies, it also gave Danielle the complete freedom to continue her weekly affair with Timothy, as well as to date other men whenever she desired. As my wife’s slave, I would have no say so in how the house was run, the important decisions that needed to be made, how our money was spent, or in the affairs she had with other men, unless I was specifically asked for my opinion. This didn’t mean that I was a pussy-whipped husband, but rather that we had a marriage designed to work for both of us, so that boredom would never set in. We both felt that boredom was the biggest cause of divorce, and we were determined to never have that problem.

Because I loved Danielle and desired her more than any other woman I’d ever known during my forty years of existence, I eagerly gave up these natural rights as a spouse in order to marry her…to be with her…to serve her in a way that few other wives ever experienced with their husbands. I wanted nothing more than to love this woman to the utmost capacity. Since I wasn’t rich, I had to prove the strength of my love in more profound ways that were within the scope of my ability. I quickly took over all of the household chores. I cleaned the house from top to bottom every week, did all of the laundry, some of the cooking, the grocery shopping, performed most of the errands, and ran the kids around when necessary. I did all of this so that when my wife came home from work she could either rest, or get ready for one of her special dates.

Perhaps the most difficult problem we faced was in hiding Danielle’s sexual affairs from her children. We had to keep coming up with plausible excuses as to why their mother would disappear for weekends at a time. Of course, I stayed with the kids whenever she traveled out of town to spend the weekend with other men. Sometimes her lovers would even fly into Vegas to be with her. Not all of her boyfriends, however, lived out of town. Including Timothy, she had a total of four lovers who were residents of Las Vegas. This ensured that she had a least one or more dates each and every week so that boredom could vigorously be avoided. The kids and I were the foundation in her life, and we provided the emotional love that was needed, without the fear of being judged or rejected.

Now, I as said earlier, I found my wife’s extra-marital affairs to be sexually exciting for me. By a quirt of fate, there was something within my genetic makeup that caused me to get extremely aroused when I knew my wife was having sex with another man. It may have been a result of my submissive nature, or maybe something far deeper.

I don’t honestly know.

Whatever the reason, I seldom got jealous over Danielle’s liaisons with the many men in her life. The truth of the matter is that I thrived on helping my wife prepare for her encounters with these men. More often than not, I would help to bathe her on the nights that she went out. After the bath, I’d put body lotion on her to help keep her skin soft and tender, and then give her a full-body massage so that she’d be more relaxed when in the arms of her lover. I would even assist her in dressing by picking out the sexiest lingerie for her to wear, and the outfits that would enhance her beauty in the eyes of the man she was seeing. When she was finally clothed and ready to leave, I’d kneel before her and kiss her right foot in servitude, knowing that another man would soon be between her legs, making long, passionate love to her.

Nothing more demonstrated my servitude to Danielle than what happened on the night we were married. We were supposed to have left for Sedona, Arizona early in the evening to begin our honeymoon.

My wife, however, had other plans.

Since the kids were staying with their grandparents and the house was empty, Danielle wanted us to spend our wedding night at home. I understood more clearly the surprise she had in store for me after I was handcuffed to the foot of her four-posted bed and she’d called Timothy so that he could come over and make love to the new bride.

The purpose of this was to immediately establish her authority over me.

When her lover arrived, he took my place in the wedding bed and made love to Danielle several times throughout the night without a condom. He couldn’t have been happier, especially when I was later released from my bondage and ordered to perform oral sex on my wife while he watched, tasting the wedding present he’d left for me between her legs. This act of humiliation was necessary in order to clarify my position in the sex triangle that we were creating. Timothy was my wife’s lover, and I was her slave. Nothing could emphasize that more than being forced to watch as he made love to her on our wedding night!

Danielle suddenly startled me out of the array of past memories flowing through my mind and brought me back to the present.

“Oh, God, I need to be fucked!” she cried out.

I glanced back up at both of them and saw that Timothy had unhooked the clasp at the front of her bra. His fingers were gently kneading the hard nipple of her right breast, while his other hand was buried in the cleft between her legs, stroking the tender folds of flesh through the nylon panties. Danielle still had her eyes closed, but was now slowly shaking her head as the heat of desire gradually overwhelmed her.

Looking down at me, Timothy said: “I want you to take off your wife’s panties.”

I stared blankly up at him for a moment.

“Do as he says,” Danielle said as she opened her eyes and smiled down at me. There was a dreamy kind of look in her eyes that reminded me of how she got when smoking a joint. “Go ahead and take my panties off so that my lover can satisfy me.”

As Timothy removed his hand from the junction of my wife’s body, I crawled closer to her and reached up to grab the waistband of her underwear. Taking hold of her panties, I pulled them downward, easing them over the garter straps and nylons, until they finally rested at her ankles. Danielle stepped out of them and then held her left hand out.

I handed her the panties and watched as she used them to slowly wipe away the wetness from between her legs—a result of her arousal for Timothy. When Danielle was finished cleaning herself, she commanded me to open my mouth and then stuffed the piece of lingerie into it, warning me not to spit them out.

“You can enjoy the taste of my cunt while Timothy fucks me,” she said in a husky tone of voice.

I then watch as her lover removed her bra, dropped it to the floor, picked her up in his arms, and carried her over to the bed. The bedspread and top sheet was already pulled down to the end of the mattress. When Danielle was finally resting comfortably on the bed, Timothy quickly undressed. He then climbed on top of her and moved deftly between her legs. She took hold of his hard cock and guided it to the entrance of her vagina. As he pushed into her, she let out a loud moan of primal pleasure, pulling her legs back along the sides of his body like question marks so that he could enter her more deeply.

“Fuck me,” she whispered to him.

I continued to watch them, my eyes focused on the expression of my wife’s face as Timothy began to slowly fuck her with long, steady strokes of his large cock. She placed her arms around him and held on tightly. He would pull his penis almost out of her and then push it back in until he filled her completely, causing her to groan softly from the intensity of the experience. After a couple of minutes had passed, she wrapped her legs around his lower back and met each thrust by lifting her pelvis upward in a quick jerking motion. I became hard with excitement as I watched the most important person in my life being taken by another man. It was hot and sensual, and it made me want my wife all the more. As Danielle’s first orgasm arrived, she coaxed Timothy into fucking her harder and faster. His buttocks picked up speed as they moved up and down, his cock driving into her like a well-oiled piston. She frantically kissed his lips and the cheek of his face. Her moans of pure ecstasy grew louder, and I knew that another orgasm was imminent. Lowering my head back to the floor, I listened as Danielle climaxed a second time, her cry of pleasure loud enough to alert the next-door neighbors.

“God, I love having your cock in me,” she said to him.

“I know you do,” Timothy replied, “I’m the only man who can fuck you in the way you truly desire.”

“Yes, you are.”

If Timothy only knew about the other men in her life, I thought to myself. It would probably deflate his ego a couple of notches.

“Cum inside of me,” Danielle ordered. “I want my body and soul to belong to you, baby. Make me yours. Leave your sperm deep inside my womb.”

I heard Timothy grunting with effort as he continued to pound away at the source of Danielle’s power. No matter how smart or creative or manipulative a woman can be, sex is always the true source of her power. Nothing else could come even close to the force of this natural act. Fuck a man well, and he’d never turn to anyone else to fulfill his carnal needs. It was just that simple; yet, few women seemed to understand it, or to even care.

My wife, of course, understood the very nature of men.

She used the power of sex, her beauty, and the genius of her mind to get what she wanted from them. That’s not to say that she didn’t enjoy sex. Danielle got off on all kinds of sex as long as it was done between two consenting adults. Though she’d heard of dominance and submission before we became involved, she’d never had an urge to practice it. Once we were married, however, my wife took to it like a duck to water. She began to understand what real power over another human being was and became strongly addicted to practicing it. The first few times she punished me with a riding crop or paddle, there was a bit of hesitancy on her part to strike me. By the fifth punishment session, I was literally begging her to stop, afraid that she would whip me so badly that I’d end up in the local emergency ward.

Yes, Danielle had a strong personality, but there was also a bit of the sadist in her. I knew it the first time I saw her in the casino where she worked. Though she looked like a sex Goddess in her cocktail uniform, it was actually her attitude that most attracted me. I even got a female co-worker to ask her if she was dominant. At first Danielle didn’t understand the question that was being asked. Then, when clarity was achieved, she simply smiled at me, knowing that I was the actual perpetrator of the question. She never answered it, deciding to torment me with my own fantasies and desires.

“Oh, Jesus!” Timothy grunted as he finally ejaculated inside of her.

“That’s it,” she urged. “Don’t stop, honey.”

Timothy usually had a long orgasm and left a sizable load of semen inside of my wife. By his second orgasm, the pearly-white fluid would be oozing out of her onto the sheets of the bed.

“God, that was great,” he muttered, withdrawing his penis from her body and laying down on the bed beside her.

“It’s always good between us,” she remarked.

“Listen, I need to make a call on my cell phone,” he said. “Why don’t you go downstairs and get us something cold to drink. It won’t take but a few minutes.”

“You and that damn cell phone.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Danielle climbed off of the bed and stepped over to where I was kneeling. “Raise your head,” she said to me. When I did, she took the panties out of my mouth and used them to clean some of the semen from her pussy. She then stuffed the panties back into my mouth, laughed at the expression on my face, and said, “I don’t want you to feel left out, William.”

As my eyes followed her out of the bedroom, I heard Timothy searching through his clothes for the cell phone. A few seconds later, he was pressing a series of numbers into the phone and then talking to someone on the other end of the line. It was business as usual. He couldn’t go very long without talking to someone on his phone. A lot of business people were like that. It was almost as if they were afraid of missing something vital out there…something that might change their entire life for the better. My own opinion was that people spent too much time on the phone. That’s why they were so anxious and frantic about everything. People needed to spend more time in silence to better understand themselves, as well as others.

Timothy was just finishing up his phone conversation by the time Danielle returned with two cold bottles of beer. She walked past me and got back on the bed, handing one of the bottles to him.

“Finished talking on the phone for awhile?” she asked.

“Why do you always make such a big deal out of my phone calls?” Timothy said, taking a swallow of beer.

“Because it’s rude.”

“But I’m talking business.”

“I know,” she said. “But it still irks the shit out of me. I want to be the center of attention when you come over.”

“You know, Danielle, I’m not your husband.”

“I wish you were so that I could give you a taste of the riding crop. It might teach you to have a little more respect for women.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s into pain,” he stated. “If you want to whip somebody, William’s right over there. I don’t have a problem with you beating the daylights out of him. Hell, I can make another telephone call while you’re at it.”

“You’re a real asshole.”

“Yeah…yeah,” he admitted. “Thank God I have a big cock, or else I’d never get laid.”

“Speaking of getting laid,” Danielle said. “Are you ready to service me again?”

“I think some stimulation might be required.”

A long moment of silence followed and then I heard the sound of my wife sucking Timothy’s cock. Now, it was his turn to moan with pleasure. Few women could compete with her in performing oral sex on a man. She seemed to intuitively know the right amount of suction to apply to the head of a penis and when to use her tongue for the purpose of teasing. Danielle could have a man rock hard in just a minute and then keep him in that state for nearly an hour.

The sounds of oral sex continued for a while with Timothy’s moans growing louder by the minute. Suddenly, Danielle stopped sucking and said, “I believe the little fellow’s ready to perform.”

“Damn it!” Timothy said. “I was right on the verge of an orgasm.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“Because I thought you came over to satisfy me, not the other way around.”

“What’s this little shit?” he said, laughing.

“It’s certainly not little now.”

“My cock is monstrous!”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far in describing it,” my wife murmured.

“How many other guys do you know with a cock this big?”

Danielle hesitated for a moment as if trying to decide whether or not to be honest with him. “You’re the biggest,” she finally replied.

“Damn right.”

“It takes more than a big cock to satisfy a woman.”

“Yeah?”

“Women have emotional needs, too.”

“Tell that to your husband.”

“Unlike you, he already knows how to treat a lady.”

“Why don’t you turn over and get on your hands and knees?”

“You’re so romantic, Timothy.”

“Fuck the romance,” he said. “Our relationship is based on one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“Great sex.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” she said sarcastically.

“Just turn over.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, doggy style,” he said. “I like fucking you from behind.”

Raising my head, I glanced over at the two lovebirds. I saw my wife kneeling on the bed with her beautiful ass high in the air and her head resting on the mattress. Timothy was positioning himself behind her. Holding his hard cock in one hand, he guided the head of it into Danielle’s pussy.”

“More,” she demanded.

He slowly slid another inch into her.

“Stop teasing me!”

Timothy pushed two more inches of his large erection into her and then stopped, enjoying the game that he was playing.

“What does a lady have to do around here to get fucked?”

“Say the magic word,” he answered.

“Fuck you!”

“Wrong choice of words.”

Danielle cried out in frustration and then attempted to move her body backwards on the length of his shaft, but Timothy stopped the momentum by grabbing her hips and holding her firmly in place.

“Okay, I’ll say it,” she said.

“I’m waiting.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Why do you have to be such a bastard?”

“I was born this way,” he said. “Blame it on my mother.”

“Damn.”

“I’m still waiting, Danielle.”

“Please fuck me,” she said.

“I want you to say all of it.”

I could almost hear my wife’s teeth grinding together in hot anger and deep frustration. Timothy was damn lucky that he wasn’t submissive. Danielle would’ve paddled his ass so bad that he wouldn’t have been able to sit down for a week. To paraphrase an old quote: “Hell knows no fury like that of an angry woman!”

“Please fuck me with your monstrous cock,” she said.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Just fuck me, damn it!”

I watched as Timothy once again slid his jutting penis back into her, but this time it was right up to the hilt, filling Danielle so completely that she had a climax within seconds.

Laughing at how easy it was to control my wife, Timothy began to fuck her hard and fast, holding onto her hips with both hands so that she couldn’t pull away. Danielle turned her face in my direction, and I saw tears running down from her eyes. I didn’t know if she was crying from pain or pleasure. Though my wife saw me looking at her, I could tell that her mind was in a world of its own. It wasn’t long before a second orgasm gripped her within its tight clutches and caused her to cry out as spasms of unbelievable pleasure coursed through her body.

Timothy continued to fuck her for close to thirty minutes. By the time she had her seventh climax, Danielle was pleading for him to stop, saying that another orgasm would kill her…that her body couldn’t take anymore. That was all it took for Timothy to drive into her as far as was humanly possible and to empty himself into her pussy. The strength of his ejaculation was so powerful that he nearly collapsed on top of my wife. He barely managed to catch himself with an outstretched hand to keep from crushing her under his weight. Both of them sounded as if the Boston marathon had just been run. They were breathing heavily and their hearts seemed to be pounding from the exertion.

The seconds gradually turned into minutes.

Finally, Timothy straightened up, and he pulled his still-hard penis from out of Danielle. A long stream of semen came with it and dripped down to the sheets that covered the mattress. I heard my wife suck in her breath as the object of her desire was withdrawn from her body, leaving her with an acute sense of emptiness. She turned over onto her back and stared boldly at her lover’s cock. There was still a hunger in her eyes that depicted the voracity of her sexual appetite. Motioning Timothy to straddle her chest, she then took his organ into her mouth again and greedily sucked it until he eventually had a third orgasm. His final climax was nowhere as powerful as the first two had been; still, there was a sizable amount of semen ejaculated between Danielle’s succulent lips. Though she attempted to swallow all of the semen, a good bit of it managed to escape and run down the corners of her mouth.

“Do you do this for your husband?” Timothy asked as he pulled his limp organ out of her mouth.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“He’s my slave,” she replied, wiping the sticky fluid from her face with the back of her hand. “A slave isn’t allowed the same privileges as a lover.”

“He’s your husband.”

“William gave up his rights as a husband on the day we got married.”

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Fairness has nothing to do with it. I’m the Mistress of the house, and I determine what my husband is allowed to do or not do. After you leave, I’ll probably permit him the pleasure of servicing me with his tongue as a reward for his obedience.”

“I hope he likes the taste of what’s down there,” Timothy said, chuckling at what was in store for me.

“I’ve made him clean up after you before.”

“Yeah, I remember your wedding night. That was something else.”

“Don’t worry about William,” she continued. “He’s perfectly happy with the way things are.”

Timothy got off the bed, picked his clothes up, and walked around to where I was kneeling on the carpeted floor. “Is that true?” he asked me. “Are you happy with your wife fucking other men?”

I took the panties out of my mouth and said, “Yes.”

“It doesn’t bother you that they’re getting what you’re not allowed to have?”

“No,” I answered truthfully. “It’s part of being a slave.”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“And you would probably be right.”

“If William was the jealous type,” my wife stated, “you and I wouldn’t be seeing as much of each other.”

“That’s true,” he said, entering the master bathroom.

While Timothy took a quick shower and then got dressed, Danielle rose from the bed and walked over to the closet to get her silk bathrobe. We smiled at each other with perfect understanding as she put it on and wrapped the robe tightly around her body, tying the loose belt into a bow. She then stepped past me, patting the top of my head like I was a good little doggy, and went into the bathroom. A minute later, I heard the shower cut off, and then the sound of their voices as they began to talk to each other.

I was thinking about the next chapter in my novel when both of them finally came out of the bathroom and headed downstairs.

“Don’t move from that spot,” Danielle said as she walked out of the bedroom.

Fifteen minutes passed before I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, and then my wife coming back up the stairs. She came into the bedroom, took off the robe, and stood in front of me with her feet set apart. Placing her hands on her hips, she stared down at me with an utterly wicked smile upon her face. For some bizarre reason, she reminded of Linda Carter in the old television series of Wonder Woman. All Danielle needed was a gold lasso attached to her garter belt.

“Now,” she said. “I want to hear you say the magic words.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please allow me to service you with my tongue,” I replied, keeping my eyes directed at her feet.

“That’s not good enough.”

“What do you want me to say, Mistress?”

“Look at me,” she ordered.

I raised my head and stared into her dark eyes, seeing the twinkle of merriment in them. Danielle suddenly slapped me hard across the face. “You know exactly what I want you to say,” she said. “Would you like me to whip you first?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Maybe a good whipping would refresh your memory.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You’re not going to get your reward until I hear the right words come out of your mouth,” my wife said. “I should’ve made you do this in front of Timothy.”

“Please, Mistress—“

“Say it, slave.”

“Please allow me the pleasure of cleaning up after your lover.”

“Do you want to taste his semen?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Are you going to lick it all up?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Danielle went over to the bed and lay back down with her legs open to receive my adoration. She snapped her fingers twice. I stood up, took my clothes off, and went over to the bed. I climbed carefully between her legs and felt her hand grab the back of my head so that she could guide me to the source of all life.

“If you do an excellent job,” she said, “I might allow you the pleasure of having intercourse with me. Would you like that, William?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Then service your Queen like a good slave.”

Submissive Husbands - Cuckold story  part 5