"God, I hate him," I said to myself practically every time the thought of him entered my mind. Troy was arrogant and cruel. Of all the men who had fucked my wife since we'd gotten married eight years ago, Troy was the most insufferable. I despised him. I desperately desired to have nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, my desires carried no weight at all.
My wife, Nina, had taken up with other men right from the beginning of our marriage. After the first time or two that I caught her, she made little attempt to hide her affairs. (And I never would have caught her in the first place if she'd been really serious about hiding these things from me.) She knew I was devastated but, seeing that my devastation didn't lead to any bad consequences for her, she carried on brazenly. I think she knew that I wouldn't leave her but I'm not sure how much she cared about that, anyway.
Over the years, I'd become rather used to her just announcing that she was going out. That was it. No explanation. No excuses. She'd get herself all made up and dress in her sexiest outfits, then go out for the evening, or the night, and sometimes for the whole weekend. She'd come back in the most vile of states—her clothes in complete disarray and smelling of sex.
I made adjustments. I found things to do while she was gone. You should see the collection of pornography that I've downloaded during those long times alone. Whacking off to internet porn provided only temporary relief from my tortured images of Nina fucking these other guys, of which there were many. But temporary relief is better than no relief. So there you have it.
Strangely, I sometimes felt as if my whacking off to porn was a kind of revenge against Nina. Sort of: "Oh, yeah! Well, two can play this game!" Of course the game she was playing was fucking and sucking a lot of attractive guys. The game I was playing was fucking my hand while I looked at pictures of other men fucking hot chicks. Pathetic!
As things progressed, sometimes Nina had her men pick her up at our house and bring her back after their date. At first this was very hard for me—especially because Nina usually wasn't ready and she insisted that I answer the door and invite the guy in. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to invite into your house the guy who's going to be in your wife in a few hours? Nina would not have me be a bad host. I had to offer these men a drink and sit with them until she was ready.
And then she'd always make a grand entrance. She knew that she was really hot, especially when she dressed like a tart. How many times had I had to watch as some man's eyes lit up thinking about how wonderful it would be to undress my wife and fuck her crazy and knowing that this is precisely what he'd be doing soon? I'd lost count. Enough, though, that it had killed a part of my soul.
I felt as if I hated each and every one of these guys. What kind of man would take advantage of another man like this? What kind of man had no respect for the bonds of marriage? But when I thought hard and dispassionately about it, I knew that a lot of men would. And, in fact, I wasn't sure that I wouldn't have if given the opportunity—at least before I'd experienced this from the perspective of the cuckolded husband.
Troy was different from the beginning. And, as I got to know him better, I realized what hatred was. The other men had hurt me. I was jealous of them. And I didn't like them much. Troy, I hated.
The first time Troy came to pick Nina up, I could sense the difference. I invited him in, feeling resentful of his good looks and obvious self-confidence. He took me up on the offer of a drink and then just sat there looking superior as he sipped his bourbon. Most guys seemed at least a little uncomfortable. Some almost seemed sympathetic. Troy was unfazed by my obvious discomfort. In fact, he seemed to relish it.
He quickly became a favorite of Nina's. I think she soon started being exclusive with him (a rare thing for Nina). As their relationship developed, Nina's pattern changed—obviously at Troy's insistence. But Nina was a more-than-willing partner.
One new thing I had to deal with was having our marital bed taken over for some of their dates. The first time this happened, it seemed almost incidental. Troy and Nina came home early from one of their dates. It was about midnight. I'd just whacked off to some porn and was getting ready to go to bed.
I was walking out of the bathroom wearing only my jockey briefs when Nina and Troy came around the corner. It's embarrassing enough to be dressed only in your underpants when your wife walks in with her lover. But then Nina said, "Sleep in the guest room tonight. Troy and I will be using the master bedroom." I sputtered but it's really impossible to appear forceful when you're standing in front of your cuckolding wife and her lover in only your whitey-tighties. So I just went into the guest room and tried to ignore the noise coming from our bedroom for the next two hours.
It was a restless night for me. I didn't sleep much. It wasn't so much the noise, which ended after a couple of hours anyway. It was the fact that I was incredibly horny. I wound up masturbating three times during the night. Each time I was envisioning Nina sucking Troy's cock or getting reamed by him in the cunt or ass. Those images got me hard, then they got me off.
The next morning, I was up and dressed when I heard the shower going. I could hear Nina and Troy talking and laughing in the shower so I moved from the living room to the kitchen to be further away. I thought about leaving the house but I decided that I wouldn't be run out of my own house by this asshole. A man has to draw the line somewhere.
About a half hour later, Nina came into the kitchen wearing Troy's shirt, unbuttoned with nothing under it, followed by Troy, who had my bathrobe around him. Sheeze! The nerve of this guy ... wearing my bathrobe!
Nina told me to pour them both coffee and, without a complaint, I found myself doing it. I guess I was a completely beaten man. She almost pushed me to my limit when she told me to cook them both breakfast, but I went along with that, too. All the while I was cooking the eggs and bacon, Nina and Troy talked intimately to each other, sometimes laughing with pleasure. I couldn't wait to get done cooking so that I could just get out of the room.
I guess both Nina and Troy liked being served by me because they began to weave this bit of humiliation into their regular pattern. The next time Troy came to the house, it wasn't to pick Nina up for a date. They were going to "spend a quiet evening at home." Yeah, my home! And I was their server.
They settled down in the family room with the drinks I'd made them and then started a porno movie that Troy had brought over while I cooked them dinner. Nina would never watch porn with me but I could hear her laughing enticingly with Troy in the family room all the while I was cooking dinner. When they'd finished their movie and come into the dining room for dinner, Nina told me to go and clean out the Jacuzzi tub and run them a nice hot bath.
That didn't take too long so I had a chance while they were finishing up dinner to go into the family room to see what movie they'd been watching. Cum-Eating Cuckolds! Shit! This guy was a flaming asshole. I switched to TV and tried to achieve some normalcy by watching the news while Troy and Nina finished eating.
When they went into the master bathroom to take their bath, though, I couldn't resist watching some of the movie. I was simultaneously revolted, disgusted, fascinated, and aroused by what I saw. The wife in the movie was openly cuckolding her husband with a much more endowed man. At the end of the first cuckolding session in the movie, she ordered her husband to lick the man's cum from her dripping cunt. And he did! I was sickened and appalled. I was also rock hard. I found myself looking forward to seeing the rest of the movie. I suspected I'd be in for a long night and, so, would be able to watch it several times if I wanted to.
"Scott!" Nina called from the bathroom. "Can you come here?" It was phrased as a request, but it was clearly an order. And I obeyed. I wasn't anxious to see Nina in the bathtub with Troy and, fortunately, I didn't have to. As soon as I'd gotten in the bedroom, she yelled to me that there was no need to come in the bathroom. All she wanted to tell me was that I needed to strip and remake the bed so that she and Troy would have clean sheets tonight.
"What kind of man would make the bed for his wife and her lover?" I wondered as I was making the bed. Well, I guess the answer was obvious: a man like me. But once it was made, I could leave the room and go back to the family room and turn the movie back on.
I started the movie over, deciding that the first scene was worth re-watching. I dithered a bit over how loud to turn the volume. On the one hand, I wanted to drown out the sounds coming from the master bedroom. But I certainly didn't want them to hear me watching Cum-Eating Cuckolds. I guess I didn't really have to worry about that, though; they were pretty engrossed in what they were doing, as I could clearly hear whenever there was a quiet part of the movie.
When I was sure Nina and Troy wouldn't be coming out of the bedroom, I gave up any pretense of just watching the movie out of curiosity. I pulled out my hard cock and stroked myself. I wasn't in any rush to cum. I knew I had all night and it was kind of nice to just keep myself hard and excited for a long time. Being really hard can make you feel a bit like a man even under circumstances that are in complete contradiction to your manhood.
I watched the movie all the way through, and then picked some selected highlights to watch. In the course of the viewing, I came twice, each time I found myself licking up my cum completely. I'd tasted my cum before. I suppose most guys have. But this time I devoured it.
In the morning, Nina and Troy made me serve them breakfast in bed. That was a little bit more of the cruelty that I hated Troy for. It is unbelievably humiliating to serve your wife and her lover breakfast in your marital bed while they exchange touches and smiles right in front of you. And the clean sheets I'd put on last night reeked of sex and showed numerous vile stains of their raucous night together.
It's pretty clear why I hated Troy more than any of Nina's other lovers. As they say on the infomercials, though, "But wait...there's more!"
One Friday Nina called me at work in the morning. She said I needed to get off work for the afternoon and meet her at home. It was important, she insisted. I made an excuse and got home by about 1:00. I was pleased to find that Nina was home alone. I'd half expected some special humiliation with Troy. As I was to find out later, that was to come. But I didn't know that yet and I breathed a sigh of relief when I found her alone.
"What's up?" I asked in all innocence. I really didn't have a clue about what was going on. It was very strange for Nina to want me to come home in the middle of the day.
"Let's take a bath," Nina said. Wow! I didn't get it at all. Why did she want to take a bath with me? We hadn't done that in ages. But I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Carpe diem, I thought.
In the bathtub, Nina started asking me if I loved her—really loved her. Of course I said that I did. I started to say something like, "Do you think I'd put up with the humiliation that she and her lovers subject me to if I didn't?" But I really didn't get much of that thought out. She knew what I was thinking though. And she said something that sounded like genuine sympathy. She said, "Oh, dear. I know it must be difficult for you."
But then, she went back to asking if I loved her and I realized that this was a set-up for something she had in mind. After reassuring her that I really did love her, I let her blindfold me in the tub and promised to let her do anything she wanted to do to my body. (She promised that she wouldn't cause me any pain, though, which reassured me a little.)
She lifted up my leg and I could feel her running her soapy hands over my calves and thighs. When I realized what she was up, I jerked my leg away.
"Stop moving or you're going to have cuts all over you," Nina cautioned. I guess my jerking had already resulted in a razor cut. I felt her touch a styptic pencil to my thigh. It stung, but I suppose it did its job and stopped the bleeding.
By the time the bath was done, Nina had shaved every bit of hair off of my body except for the hair on my head. She'd shaved my face again, to—not that I grew much of a daytime beard but she apparently wanted me as smooth as possible. She ran her hands over my body and said, "Now, doesn't that feel better?" Well, it certainly felt different, and (I guess) better in the sense that I found her touch very erotic.
Nina pulled the plug and helped me out of the tub. She positioned me in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom, stood behind me, and ran her hands up and down my body, never touching my cock, but inching enticingly close to it. When she had me completely aroused and my cock was standing up more than horizontal, she lifted my blindfold.
I was amazed at how different I looked with no body hair. I hadn't seen my body without hair since I was about 12, I think. Nina was now running her fingernails lightly over my chest and abdomen, which caused my cock to remain at full staff. This meant that it was only my hairlessness that reminded me of myself at 12. My seven inches of hard meat looked even bigger than it did when it sprouted out of a bush of pubic hair. It looked nothing like a 12 year-old.
Nina had me sit down on the side of the tub and she put by blindfold back on. I didn't know what she was up to but when she started to smooth lotion all over my body, I didn't complain. It felt wonderful to have her hands caress me like that—in ways she hadn't since shortly after we'd been married. If I put a lot of our history out of my mind, I could almost imagine that we were newly-weds still, making love to each other with the sweet innocence that we once had.
The illusion was broken when she had me stand up and I felt her fitting something on my now-flaccid penis. By the time I'd pulled off the blindfold and realized what she was doing, one of those clear plastic cock cages was securely locked behind my scrotum. My complaints were met with soothing but dismissive responses that felt very condescending to me. But, like it or not, it was clear that the cock cage was not coming off until Nina wanted it to come off. She encouraged me to just relax and enjoy what she had planned for me. I couldn't relax, of course, but there wasn't much I could do to alter the course of her plans.
She led me into the bedroom and again put the blindfold on me. She had me sit down on the side of the bed, where I waited for what seemed to me like a long time. I didn't know what she was doing but while she was busy, I felt the cock cage with my hands. There was no way I was going to get out of this thing without the key and I had no idea where that was. I decided it was best not to touch myself at all because when I did, it would start to make me hard. And the pressure in the cock cage made that hurt.
I heard Nina return and then I felt her sliding something up my legs. Just from the feel, I could tell that she was putting some sort of silky panties on me.
"What are you doing?" I complained. But she told me again to just relax, reminding me that if I wanted to get the cock cage off, I should be eager to please her. She had me stand up so she could pull the panties all the way up. When she did so, she pushed my caged cock down as far as she could. I'm sure there was still an obscene bulge in my panties, but there was no way around that.
I was sort of thinking that this was as much humiliation as could affect me. Not that I didn't know that more was coming, of course. But I kind of figured that once I was denuded of my hair, locked in a cock cage, and dressed in panties, I was about as filled with humiliation as possible. You know, you can keep on pouring water into a glass but, when it's up to the rim, it will just spill out. I was wrong about having hit my limit of humiliation, though. When Nina fitted me with a bra, I felt a wave of shame wash over me.
Nina guided me to her dressing table and had me sit down at the stool. Then she left me alone again for a few minutes. When I could hear her near me again, I could also smell something that reminded me of the model glue I used to use to put together airplane models when I was a kid. Then I felt her pull one of the cups of my bra away from my chest and I felt an incredibly cold wetness on my chest. I knew what was happening; but there was nothing I could do to stop it at this point. Nina held the breast form tightly against my chest until the glue had set and, when she released her grip, I could feel the breast sagging, pulling the skin of my chest down until the breast form was securely supported by my bra. After gluing on my other "breast," I heard Nina compliment herself on her work. I couldn't see anything but I suspected that I wouldn't appreciate it as much as she did.
After fastening on a garter belt and stringing the clips down through my panties, Nina rolled stockings up my legs and clipped them to the garter belt. Then she had me stand so that she could put my dress on me. I could feel that it wasn't much of a dress. It hung just about two inches below my crotch and left the tops of my stockings uncovered. I had to suck my stomach in as much as I could for Nina to zip up my dress. When she had finished, I could only take small breaths and it felt like I had a rope tied around my waist.
"You look gorgeous, sweetheart!" Now let's do something about your face. Nina made me promise to keep my eyes closed so as not to "spoil my surprise." I didn't give a shit about "my surprise" but she was holding all the cards (aka keys), and so I promised.
Nina did a lot of fussing with my face. I don't even know what all she rubbed and brushed and slathered on there. I felt her plucking my eye brows rather severely. (More hair lost!) And then she was doing things with my eyelids and my lashes. Finally, she turned me away from the mirror and told me I had to open my eyes but I could only look straight ahead.
When she had me in this position, she pulled out my upper and lower eye lids and put some sort of pencil right to the edges of my eye lids. It was all I could do to keep from blinking. But finally, she was done and I was ordered to close my eyes again.
I felt Nina fitting a wig over my head. I hadn't realized that Nina owned a wig and I thought for a minute about how strange it was that she had one to put on me. (Funny that I hadn't thought of how strange it was that she had breast forms to glue to my chest. But I guess when she stuck those things on me I was thinking about issues other than "where did she come up with these things?")
I figured that Nina must be about finished. Really, what was left to do? She turned me toward the mirror and, I guess, took one last look at her creation before telling me to open my eyes and meet Scarlet.
To say that I was stunned would be to understate the case by a rather wide margin. At first I couldn't believe that it was me. But as I moved, Scarlet moved. I soon made my peace with the fact that I'd been transformed into a very passable—and, indeed, rather attractive—fairly buxom, redheaded bombshell.
I got up and looked in the full-length mirror. Nina had dressed me in black stockings with a seam up the back and a very short French maid's dress with a cute white apron tied around it. (I hadn't even noticed her tying that around me.) The dress cinched my waist in a lot—the visual effect was as noticeable as the physical sensation. Whether from the front or the side, my waist looked appropriately delicate and feminine. And the skirt made my hips look wider than they really are.