tagBDSMMan Tamed as Cuck

Man Tamed as Cuck

byselfconfidenc120©

"Now, lift up that skirt and let me see that cute little peewee pussy of yours."

Rachel, my wife, yells to me.

"Ok, ok, take it easy."

The quiver in my voice makes me blush.

"I'm trying my very best Ma'am."

The truth is, I'm not really a voluntary cuck, if she would have sex with me I would take it in a heart beat. But she won't. She says my dick will never please a woman so I take what I can get. Right now, it's sucking her pussy and jerking off over her blowing another man.

Her lover's cum slowly dribbles down my nose, onto my lips, and into my mouth. It is my first real taste of cum; tastes pungent and salty.

"Awe, there you go. Goooood boy. Thomas?"

"Yes Ma'am?"

"I think that tiny peewee of yours is really more of a pussy now. Don't you think?"

With my head respectfully lowered, unable to meet her eyes, I deferentially respond.

"Um, no Ma'm I don't. I mean, it's not as big as Ron's, but it is a penis none the less."

Ron is my wife's lover; a 6'2'' strapping kind of guy, head of his high school football team, and a former friend of mine. He smirked as I said it.

"Well sweetie, let me ask you something." She said as she began to wrap her soft lips around Ron's hard pulsating dick.

"What is the purpose of a lawnmower?"

"What? Ha, what the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Ron jumps in.

"Hey! You meant to say, I don't understand you're question please say it more clearly Ma'am. Didn't you Tommy!?"

Rachel thanked him and proceeded to jerk off his dick.

"Yes sir; of course sir; sorry sir."

"Good! Now tell us that you're our little bitch and you're sorry."

"Alright Ron I get it you don't have t.."

"Say it bitch!" They simultaneously yell at me.

"Sorry Ma'm, sorry Ron; I'm a little bitch." I said, defeated.

"Awe good sweetie, but you're a little bitch what now?"

I can't believe I'm actually doing this I think to myself. I really don't want to.

"I'm your little pet Ma'am. I'm you're little sweetie."

"Good boy. Now politely ask me to continue like a proper submissive."

"Please continue for your little bitch Ma'am. I am sorry Ron; you are my superior and I should treat you with the respect a submissive should give his superior."

"You are forgiven sweetie! Ok so where was I? Oh yes, so, what is the purpose of a lawnmower?"

"Umm, to mow grass I guess."

"Awe yes, very good. Keep it up and maybe Ron and I will let you wonk that little pussy of yours after you suck his cum out of mine!."

Against my wishes, I find myself blushing and smiling, I just can't help it. Rachel picked up on it and patted me on the head.

"So sweetie, if we have defined the purpose of a lawnmower as mowing grass, I would consequent induce, that if I ceased utilizing it by mowing grass, and for instance, presented it in front of my hardware store for decorative purposes, that particular "lawnmower" in consequence would cease to fulfill it's purpose, which in this case would be to mow grass because its purpose has changed for mowing grass to making my hardware store look more authentic. One would therefore induce that that particular "lawnmower" is no longer a lawnmower at all, but rather, decorative material. You see sweetie, the definition of a lawnmower is a noun whose ontological, quintessential, purpose is to efficiently cut grass, rather than merely something that is capable of cutting grass. You see, I could cut grass with a pocketknife, but that does not make my pocket knife a lawnmower. Isn't that right Thomas?"

"That seems right, Ma'am." I replied.

"Awe, I think my little bitch is beginning to get it. You see! We have thus defined the definition of an object as the exemplary function upon which the object is predominantly utilized to perform. A lawnmower is a lawnmower because it mows the lawn, and a pocket knife is a pocketknife because it is a small, portable knife that can easily fit into ones pocket. Simply because a pocket knife is capable of cutting grass, that in itself does not make it a lawnmower. Simply because a lawnmower that's used for decorative purposes is capable of cutting grass, that in itself does not make it a lawnmower. Rather, a more accurate definition of it would be; "decorative material; lawnmower". Isn't that right boy?"

"Yes, I sup...."

"Sweetie I could care less if you think what I say is right; you're a little bitch." Rachel tells me; cutting me off.

"Now, you see what I'm getting at don't you? Never mind don't answer that. I'll tell you."

My caged cock swells within its confines as my face perpetually reddens.

"Simply because that bitty witty peewee of yours is capable of sliding into my vagina, does not, by any means, make it a penis. The purpose of a penis is to please a woman, and as explained earlier, the definition of an object is the purpose upon which the object is predominantly used for. Baby girl, you're penis is, when it comes down to it, more of a pussy because sweetie..."

"Yes Ma'm?" I reply as I look down, shamed face.

"That little thing of yours, although kind of cute, ain't ever goanna please a woman. It has a better chance of pleasing a man. Ron here on the other hand, has a huge, hard, manly dick and is more than capable of pleasing a woman. Do you agree sweets?"

"Yes Ma'm, I suppose that makes sense." My eyes remain on the floor, still petrified to meet her eye.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Ron slaps me in the ass; hard; very hard. I squeal out in pain and wet my panties.

They laugh at me.

"Awe did you wet your panties baby girl?" My wife asks. "You did, didn't you? Ha anyway, go on and answer the question. What makes sense sweetie?"

My panties still warm, I answer her. "What you said about my thingy."

"Well honey, I didn't call it a thingy did I now? What did I call it? What did I prove it to be?"

"A pussy, Ma'am. You proved it to be a pussy."

"Yes, that's right sweetheart, so call it one. Call that teeny weenie what it truly is."

I take quick and shallow breaths and cry like a little girl as I say the final words that will officiate my position as their cuck forever.

"It's a...It's a..."

"Common say it sweetheart you know what it is."

"It's a pus..."

"Wait sweetie one more thing." She grins. "While you do look adorably cute right now, I want you to lift up that tender red face of yours and look directly at Ron's dick while you say it; so you can truly see the difference between a man's dick and a girl's pussy."

Defeated, I crawled over to Ron's dick and gazed directly into his huge mushroom.

"Come on sweetheart get on with it don't be shy."

"Alright, alright. Ma'am, Ron...." I say, gazing directly at his dick. "I have a pus...."

At that moment, Ron finally erupted and jizzed into my mouth. Coughing and tearing from the pungent odor, it took me some time to finish.

"Good girl, very goooood girl." My wife cooed. "Now what does Ron have sweetie?"

"Ron has.. has...he has a dick." I sputter as my face beats bright red and tears stream from my eyes.

"And what are you my little Tammy Tam?"

"I'm, I'm a little bitch. I'm your little bitch Ma'am."

"And what is Ron baby girl?"

"Ron, he's a man, Ma'am." I say defeated. Tears continue to stream down my cheek; wetting Ron's dried cum from the forced facial he just gave me as they did.

"Awe." She cooed tenderly as she patted me on the head and gave me a big hug. I think she may have even felt bad for me. I smiled and let out a short gasp.

"See sweetheart that wasn't so bad. I bet it feels good to tell the truth. Now come here and be a good girl and give the tip of Ron's cock a big kiss. Then help him shove his dick into my pussy. Who knows, if you're a good little girl and ask him nicely, maybe he won't make you clean off his dick with you're mouth after he's done fucking me."

So, slowly, moving my lips closer and closer to Ron's cock, eyes closed, I quickly peck his mushroom.

"Goooood girl." Rachel tells me. "Now open you're mouth."

I open my mouth and remain kneeled on the floor as I look up at the couple standing above me. One after another, they spit into my open, vulnerable, mouth. I cough and gag as their saliva unhurriedly slides down my throat.

"How does it taste bitch?" Ron demands. "I'm going to make sure we do this everyday so you'll have a little of us inside of you always."

"Awe....Ro...on." Rachel coos in that that appreciative wife tone of voice. "That is so nice of you! What do you say Tam Tams?"

"Thank you sir Ron. Thank you Miss Ma'm." I say to them.

I was about to help Ron slide his dick into my young wife's pussy when she said it....

"Hey sweetie, who knows, maybe, while Ron is fucking me, we will have a child together. If, again, IF, you behave like a good boy, Ron may even let you tuck our newborn baby into bed at night while we fuck. Oh and by the way sweetie, Ron's going to father Adam and Katie now too. They need a mommy and a strong man in their lives; not two mommies. It will take some time to get used to sweetie, but we will allow you to see them whenever you wish; as long as Ron gives you the ok first that is. Awe, don't worry, just be a good girl and suck his cock whenever he asks and I'm sure he'll give you permission."

Hearing those words come out of my wife, MY wife; about my own children whom I loved more than anything; it did it. I stopped, and I remembered the intense love that Rachel and I once felt for one another.

My wife; every so often, following a hard day, I would come home and see her downhearted on the couch.

I lovingly embraced her as she confided within me. We then passionately kiss as I carried her into our bedroom. We made love until her pain subsided. I would usually awaken before her in the morning as she nestled her head on my shoulder and slept contently; safe in my arms.

I then found myself lying under the large Oak tree in Rachel's parent's backyard. It was the day after our wedding and we were in college at the time. Rachel was lying beside me, her hand entwined with mine. I had forgotten how strikingly beautiful she was. She was petite, innocently beautiful, with deep green eyes, and it was as if the warmth I was feeling was emanating directly from her.

I peered deep into her eyes as she smiled and gazed into mine. She was a little nervous and gripped my hand snugly. I was twenty-two and she was twenty.

"Know what Rachel Adams?"

"What?" She answered, slightly giggling as she rested her head on my shoulder.

"I think I love you."

She smiled a smile she never had before and nestled up to me teary eyed.

"Know what Thomas Adams?"

I gently lifted her onto me so that she was straddling my lap as I lay against the tree.

"What?" I responded.

She leaned downwards so our heads touched one another. Gazing into each others eyes, our lips less than an inch apart, I felt her heart beating against my chest. Then she said it; those magical words; words that would remain with me for the rest of my life; words that, if for only a moment, make the rest of the whole together with everything in it seem entirely inconsequential.

"I love you Thomas. I love you more than I love myself. I love you more than anything."

I gently took hold of her chin and kissed her deeply. She was more than obliged. I felt her heart beat faster against my chest.

"I want to give you a child. I want you to give me a child." She panted.

"I'll give you everything I can give Rachel."

I continued to kiss her as I put my hands under her blouse; she went for my belt. That was the third time we made love. She had three orgasms that night before we both passed out of exhaustion. I kissed her on the head as she snuggled close to me. A cool breeze rustled our hair as we slept contently. It was that very day that our son, Adam, was conceived.

"Pussy bitch!!!"

Her words awakened me as one is awakened from heaven into the nightmarish hell of reality- and would give anything in the world to remain unconscious for but a moment longer.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? I told you to go over to Ron and shove his dick into my pussy!"

"To have children." I quietly responded. My face glowed. My eyes sparkled.

"What are you talking about Tom?" She said, seeing I was serious.

"The purpose of a penis." I told her. "It's to have children."

I laughed and I cried as the realization manifested in my mind.

"Of course I am a man!!!! Hahaahah!!! of course I am a man!! What the fuck am I doing here? WHHHHAAAAAT THE FUUUUCCCKKKK AM I DOING HEREEEEEEEEE!!!! I'm ruining my life!!!! I'm ruining the lives of my family!!!!!! What have I done!!!!!!! What am I doing!!? I don't have to do this!!!!"

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO DO THIS!!!!!

"Tom, Tom, honey are you ok? I had to wake you, you were shaking in your sleep." Rachel asks me. She looks concerned.

"Oh thank G-d; it was only a dream; only a fantasy."

"Rachel I love you so much."

I gently lay a hand on either side of her face and kiss her.

"Look, Rachel, I have to tell you something." I gaze into her concerned eyes as she nods her head signaling for me to continue.

"I have a sexual Paraphilia disorder characterized by masochistic fantasies. It is diagnosed by experiencing intense feelings of sexual arousal by means of pain or humiliation: either of when experienced over a significant period of time or upon causing clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other significant areas of functioning.

A tear falls from her eye.

"Tom I love you so much, more than anything. I need you. Adam and Katie need you. I can't lose you. I love you."

I kiss her once more and hold her.

"Hey, hey there come on now don't cry it'll be alright. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. It's a DIAGNOSABLE and TREATABLE DISEASE, but when left untreated, I sighed, it can be very destructive. I am going get help. It is going to be ok. No more of this "vowing to stop through will power" nonsense I know it takes more than that. I am going to get help. I am going to muster up the courage and seek professional psychological treatment. I really need to find a psychologist to talk to."

This is a story of hope. It is a story of change.

For only through knowledge can we ever sever the crippling shackles of misery and falsehood from our lives. Only with unyielding willpower can we ever attain the experiential splendor of freedom; and only through the enduring bond of marriage between man and woman- can we ever know true, insurmountable, unbounded, love.

Don't just ignore this story and go onto another one. Stop, think about what you are doing. You don't have to do this.

You can beat this.

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