Betsy & Me, Black-Owned Ch. 01

Abruptly or so it seemed, Betsy started wearing a latex glove when she gave me handjobs. I got annoyed. But she reminded me that when we did become black-owned for real, she wasn't going to be allowed to touch my dick except on special occasions, not even with a glove on. Her gloved hand jobs would get me more used to my being on my own.

Begrudgingly, again, I went along with it. Her explanation was reasonable enough, I told myself. Again, I didn't really seem to have any say--and I definitely could not imagine leaving my adorable wife. After all, I loved her to the moon, and she had already gained my agreement that we would as a couple one day both be black owned!

Also, at this point I was profoundly craving watching Betsy getting fucked by a real big black cock. I craved watching her get black fucked more than I had ever wanted anything before. I absolutely *had* to watch it happen. I wanted--no, I *needed*--to watch her getting black fucked again and again.

I really had gotten fully programmed into being a submissive white cuck.

For a significant part of my psyche--some perverted, submissive, insecure, and subservient slice of my mind--the idea that my adorable little wife, married just four years, only thirty-years-old, scarcely fucked by anyone before we met... The idea that she was going to get black fucked, go black only, and even breed black only was an exceptional turn on!

Even though it was humiliating and scary, I could visualize how hot and sexy my wife would be if Max were Malcolm's live big black cock, attached to his big, brawny, handsome black physique! It was a smoking hot idea! It would easily be hotter than any of the porn we were so enjoying together, because it would star my own sexy little Betsy! My wife from real life would become my personal live-action porn star--and in the scenes I most dreamed about seeing!

The fact that access to this show would also require me to be a groveling submissive to her handsome black Master had also become a turn-on, even though I avoided admitting it out loud. I had grown secretly to love the idea that I would have to make love to Master Malcolm's cock and to be face-fucked and throat-fucked by it, as well. That I might get butt-fucked was a subject of ambivalence, and something that I just tried to put out of my mind.

Soon, Betsy continued to guide me through more "steps of acceptance," as she called them. Apparently this was a phrase she had learned from Allison, as Allison had learned from Malcolm's previous white slut.

The very next "step of acceptance" was that I was made to masturbate myself as my only form of release. Betsy cut out her handjobs altogether. Anything more intense, such as a blowjob, was *definitely* out of the question.

After that, French-kissing, or any amorous mouth kissing even without tongue, was off limits. I really enjoyed the intimacy of kissing, so that was a tough one.

After kissing being taken away, next was any touching of her body at all, including fucking her with her dildo, Max. She would impale herself on Max and also use a Sybian stimulation device with an attachment similar to Max. Again, Betsy wanted to stay "snug enough" for Malcolm in real life--even though she was already stretched permanently from being a useful size for hypothetical sex with me. Betsy ran the controls to the Sybian herself--or Allison and Ben would remote control it while Facetiming with us.

While I might enjoy touching one side or another of her pussy if by magic Betsy did deign to have sex with me, Betsy would get nothing out of it, she would taunt me. It was one of her many taunts about how sexually useless I now was, and how erotic big black cocks and big black men are by comparison. It turned her on to taunt me, and she could tell from how my dick would ooze precum through my pants, that it turned me on as well.

These various first steps of acceptance played out over several months. Betsy would wait until I was relaxed about my state of deprivation and then tighten things up a notch.

After no amorous kissing and no helping her with Max, came a step I hadn't thought of: I was no longer to see her naked, nor to watch porn with her, nor even to sleep in the same bed. Betsy called it, "Cucky's listening-only step of acceptance." I could sit on a chair outside what used to be our bedroom as she watched porn and satisfied herself. Lucky for me, at least Betsy was noisy.

At first, during this difficult "step of acceptance," with no sexual contact other than my hearing her pant and scream, I was allowed to masturbate myself to orgasm every night.

But then, about a month in, Betsy found yet another level of deprivation to inflict: going forward, I was only allowed to orgasm if she yelled out "Cucky, you may orgasm now!" following her own satisfaction.

I protested this measure, to lose this autonomy over my own release. But Betsy was firm. If I did not comply, she said, then even after all this, she would go black without my being able to watch at all--she would get a different white cuckold in order to be with Malcolm or perhaps stay with me (if I was lucky) and go black with someone else beyond my presence, such as out on dates. If I wanted *ever* to see Betsy black-fucked and black-owned, I would have to go with her lead on this, too!

I couldn't imagine missing out on seeing my adorable Betsy finally get black-fucked and black-owned, not after investing in so much deprivation already. I rationalized that I was 36-years-old, and I should be able to handle skipping orgasms for the sake of marital harmony.

Little did I know what Betsy had in mind, however! This phase of my training, this "step of acceptance" went on for months! I got a bit delirious with frustration, actually, and am not even sure how many months!

Sometimes, Betsy would let me have an orgasm several nights in a row. Other times, it was every other night. And then just when I would get complacent that I would get to orgasm frequently "enough," Betsy threw me a curve ball by only letting me orgasm only after five, six, or even seven nights of going without.

I was lucky that Betsy only monitored my orgasm-deprivation through my Apple watch rather than enforcing the deprivation through the dick cages that I knew also existed.

The one-time I deliberately disobeyed Betsy and masturbated against her wishes, the Apple watch did inform her, unfortunately. Betsy deprived me of listening to her masturbate for a whole week when that happened. It was lonely for me and got me in line. Another couple of times, I had wet dreams. Those were only punished by three nights of no orgasms for me.

At some point during all this, Betsy stopped calling me by my first name, Rob, when we were at home and started calling me, Cucky, instead.

It stung at first, but then I had to admit it was true--even though I was only cuckolded by a dildo and machinery so far, I certainly was her "Cucky," fair and square!

Then, to my shame and embarrassment, Betsy started calling me "Cucky" in public and social situations.

At first it was just in front of waiters and bartenders. She'd say something like "I'll have a Chardonnay and Cucky will have whatever light beer you have on tap." The waitstaff would look shocked, and I would blush bright red and lower my head in shame.

It was also titillating to me, the exhibitionist and humiliation aspects. I would get a hard-on that Betsy might--if I was lucky--lightly tickle through my pants. Then she would mock me about how little my dick is and tease me that probably she wouldn't let me have an orgasm for several days because of how pathetic I seemed. This mocking and teasing would only turn me on more, we both realized.

Then Betsy progressed to also calling me "Cucky" in more personal, higher-stakes situations. She introduced me at her last office Christmas party to her gal pals as "my Cucky, Rob... Can you see how cute he is, and why I keep him?" We were standing talking and even so I tented my pants, to my shame. "See his cute little tent, friends?" she added, then revealing more. "I'm training him to keep me company for when we both get black owned soon. If he's lucky, he might get to hold my hand as I get impregnated by a huge, handsome Black Adonis! Afterwards, he gets to suck the big black cock clean. If he does an excellent job, we might let him beat off. It will depend on our Black Master's mood." I looked at the floor but even so my dick hardened even more.

Not satisfied with my high level of embarrassment, Betsy then commanded me to look each of the four women in the eye, and in turn tell them why I was so excited to be giving her up to Master Malcom. "She's going to look so incredible with his huge BBC in her," I told Mandy. "It'll be hot to see her have the best orgasms of her life," I told Rochelle. "Licking his cum from her pussy will be the first time I will be touching it in almost a year," I told Evelyn. And, finally, to Christine, "I can't imagine anything hotter than giving up Betsy to being permanently black-owned and exclusively black-bred." My little dick oozed precum in my pants throughout, and the women noticed the dark spot that developed and laughed at me. I had mixed emotions. Yes, it hurt a little, but it was also poignantly exciting.

Out at lunch with her younger sister and our brother-in-law, Betsy also started to call me "Cucky." The first time they looked puzzled but the second time, they must have looked up the word, as they failed to suppress laughing at me out loud. While I blushed in shame, I noticed that my little dick got hard anyway. That I got hard, only added to my internal sense of humiliation. When Betsy proceeded to divulge that we were going to become black owned and how she could "barely wait to be mated with a real man," I nearly choked on a bite of food but also I felt precum again ooze from my dick.

I learned that calling me "Cucky" more and more and getting me used to public humiliation, including publicly discussing our plans--these were further "steps of acceptance" that Betsy had been taught by Allison.

Finally, after about a year of training, Betsy laid out yet one more "step of acceptance" and training. "Cucky," she said, "You've been a real trooper this past year as I've been training us both towards being black owned. You have only one more 'step of acceptance' before we're both going to get black owned! You have to be trained to worship big black cock, to suck it, to allow it to face fuck you, to allow BBC to throat fuck you. You even have to be conditioned so that you are comfortable cumming when you're sucking on BBC or being face- and throat-fucked by it. Malcolm tells me he will probably ass-fuck you before long so that you fully understand your low status, but he wants to be the first person or thing to enter and claim your rear hole, so it isn't a preparatory step."

"Because you're completely new to sucking cock, Malcolm requires you to be trained up before he can be bothered to claim us as his pets," Betsy continued. "For however many days it takes, he's going to send his friends and associates over here to train you on worshipping BBC... This 'step of acceptance' will continue until you can deepthroat a BBC and also happily cum while doing so... And it starts in ten minutes!"

My training as a BBC face slut and throat slut went surprisingly smoothly. I was eager, and I could tell it went a lot faster than my wife or Master Malcolm were expecting. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I enjoyed it quite a bit!

Betsy noticed how well I took to worshiping big black cocks, and before long she was teasing me that I was her "secretly gay Cucky" because I seemed to have my best orgasms of all time with a black dick deep in my throat and gagging me.

After a mere three weeks of my sucking BBC and being aggressively throat fucked, Betsy and I found ourselves in the car at last, on our way to Allison's and Ben's and ready to be claimed by Master Malcolm. "Claiming" is what Master called it, the event and process when he would finally take ownership of us.

Finally, after about a year of preparation and countless "steps of acceptance," I was going to get to see Betsy consummated into total Black ownership. She would be taken to sexual nirvana and *fully* claimed by our amazing, gorgeous, and potentially permanent Black Master Malcolm. He would almost certainly breed her in this first encounter. And my own ownership would be consummated through cock sucking and pussy cleaning--as well as my lips and tongue cleaning both Betsy's and Malcolm's asses. I was almost shaking with anxiety, anticipation, humiliation, and excitement.

Would you like to hear what happened when we arrived?