Cuck's Downfall in Reverse Ch. 02

The soft click of the handcuffs signalled the beginning of Steven's vacation, and the hollow clang reverberating through the exposed pipes suggested that he wasn't particularly pleased with his travel agent. I tried to remain composed as I stood by the bathroom door, outside the laundry cubby, listening to my husband's wordless protestations as he tested the integrity of his metallic restraints. It was all entirely predictable. What exactly had he been expecting anyway, Cancun? The clamour became unbearably loud and some faint whimpering joined in the escalating chorus.

"That's enough of that," David commanded, his tone severe. Then it was quiet again, except for the faint sound of unsteady nasal breathing. Cupping my hands to my mouth in disbelief, I just pictured what exactly this scene looked like. I hadn't the heart to watch it directly, much less explain to Steven ahead of time the excruciating fate that was about to befall him. I knew it was going to be much harder for him, hearing it from the man he hated most in the world - but in the end it might be for the best. Like ripping off a bandaid.

David began to patiently explain Steven's itinerary for the next two weeks, and why it was important for him to understand why all of this was happening. Presumably he'd already pieced a lot of it together over the last few days, after his PTO request at work had been submitted and approved. But if he'd known the full extent of it, we'd never have gotten him chained up like this. All week he'd been pestering us for details. And all week we'd insisted it had to remain a surprise. His uneasiness had been rubbing off on me, to be honest. This was all David's idea, I had insisted to myself. Surely I can't be held responsible if it backfires? But upon seeing the stricken look on my husband's face as he carried the single mattress from his spare bedroom into the cubby, gears turning in his head, I remembered I had a crucial role to play in all this, to ensure it didn't end in tears.

"So you just hang tight here and I'll get those... Um... Items," David finished as he appeared from around the corner, snapping me out of my reverie. He looked nervous, and embarrassed. I hadn't seen him like that in a while, not since we first met. This whole plan was really going to test the mental resolve of all three of us. I embraced him.

"Told you you wouldn't be able to handle it," I whispered into his ear, teasing him. He flashed a mischievous smile and chuckled slightly.

"Just make sure he doesn't have a meltdown..." And he marched off to gather some things. Now it was my turn. I took a few deep breaths, mentally preparing myself for a very difficult one-way conversation with the other man I loved. I took the plunge and wheeled round the corner.

There he was. My husband, laying on a tiny cheap mattress, with his ankle handcuffed to some pipes attached to the laundry units. His legs were bowed slightly, since he was too tall to fit in here comfortably. His pastel-blue onesie had been unbuttoned, exposing his plastic chastity cage. Steven had successfully slipped the mittens on him and attached them to his collar, so at this point he was utterly helpless, and quiet too, with that perforated ball gag in place. There were tears in his eyes. I knelt down and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Don't worry baby, we're really going to look after you, ok? You don't need to worry about any-" I stopped. He was safewording. Well, safe-sounding. Three moans each in ascending pitch, that was the signal that we needed to stop. Further to that, he was staring me straight in the eyes, something he hadn't had the courage to do recently. And he was shivering all over. I'd anticipated this, I knew how to defuse this, how to avert a catastrophe. I quickly cupped his balls. He jolted. He hadn't received a tender touch to that region in some time.

"Hush, baby, shush shush shush ok?" He was quietly squirming now, as I gently kneaded him in my palm. "I hear you, ok? I hear you want to stop and if you safeword one more time we'll definitely stop, ok?" I looked down and saw his dick was poking through the little pee slot of his cage. I stretched a thumb over and gently brushed his foreskin. He squealed through his gag. "Theeere we go... You don't want to stop, do you? You know you need this. We talked about this," I spoke into his twitching eyes as I teased his throbbing member, "If we're all gonna stay together, you just need a little attitude adjustment..." We were both panting by now, totally caught up in the moment.

"Hope I'm not interrupting!" I jumped and spun around to see David standing there with the diaper gear. The final piece of the puzzle. Hurriedly, I turned back to hubby and started planting kisses on his forehead, distracting him from the unfolding nightmare. I grabbed his face with both hands and ensured that my face filled his entire field of view, because there was no need for him to see this happening, no need for pointless cruelty. I was praying he didn't safeword again, I honestly didn't know if I could have freed him anyway. The sickly exhilaration was overwhelming.

"Okay... Here goes," David said with trepidation, as he knelt down beside me and began his dark designs. Steven was staring at me and breathing heavily. We just needed to get through the next few minutes. I kept him occupied with hushed declarations of love and meaningless platitudes, anything to assuage his doubts. He instantly complied when David gruffly ordered him to raise his pelvis, and a little tear rolled down his cheek. I wiped it away and told him to be a big boy.

His work complete, David tapped me on the shoulder and we both rose to our feet. I was only able to look at my husband for a brief second before turning my attention to the ceiling in embarrassment. He hadn't met my gaze, he was just glassily staring into space. My boyfriend pulled me close and then slowly shut the door to the laundry cubby. We stood there in silence for a while and then retired to the living room.

David mercifully switched the TV on to generate some background noise and the two of us didn't exchange a word for the next half-hour. I twiddled my thumbs and quietly wondered if I was the worst person in the world. It was just the image of an innocent man, defenceless and vulnerable, restrained and disgraced in his own home, that was getting to me, burnt onto my retina, driving me up the wall. Eventually David broke the ice.

"You know, I think he's starting to warm to me."

I burst out laughing and he joined in. Then I stopped myself and groaned, remembering how easily sound travels in this apartment. David draped an arm around my shoulder.

"Don't think about it," he reassured me.

The rest of the evening was spent wondering whether I should drop in on him and wish him good night, or just leave him alone to cope by himself. I just felt so guilty. David, on other hand, seemed to making a point of moving on as swiftly as possible, by reverting to his usual cheerful self, passing snide comments about what we were watching. That helped. I nestled up next to him and tried to focus on the positives. Eventually I chickened out and went to bed with the bf, leaving hubby to his own devices.

The next morning I had to bite the bullet and feed the boy. David caught me in the kitchen as he rushed out on his way to the office. We hugged for a bit and his eye caught the little colourful pouch of pureed mashed, immersed in warm water in a basin on the countertop. He laughed.

"So you decided on the baby food after all, eh?"

"Yeah, well..." I shrugged, "I've heard adults eat that shit sometimes. Anyway, they're tiny portions, right? Less cleanup duty for you," I winked. He rolled his eyes. That was an upcoming chore he didn't need reminding of. He left. Adults had work to do. I took the warm bag of pre-masticated fruit and veg and mentally prepared myself for another awkward encounter with the most unfortunate man in the world.

It wasn't nearly as difficult as I had anticipated. In my head, I'd imagined Steven was gonna refuse food for days until he was almost starving, and even then only barely manage to choke down his meal in-between copious tears. Instead, he obediently and mutely sucked down his meagre rations without objection. It wasn't like there was much to say anyway. Looked like he'd decided that leaning into the role of a helpless, speechless baby was the easiest way to power through this. When we were finished I figured out what he was staring at - David had left the talcum powder and wet wipes precariously perched on the washer unit above. I stifled an amused grin, and internally debated whether to reassure him that his bodily functions are perfectly natural. In the end, the feeding session was concluded in complete silence.

Work was a welcome distraction. An opportunity to pretend that I was a normal person who could live in the real world without relentlessly abusing someone I love. A couple co-workers were surprised to see me there, of course. They wondered why I wasn't away on holidays with my husband, the shy and introverted software engineer they were missing. I explained that he was taking a "video-game holiday", and they didn't bother pretending they didn't consider that vaguely pathetic. If only they knew...

I returned home to the sound of a busy screwdriver. David had left work early and was in the living room busy installing the foundations for that "museum of mortification" nonsense he'd been so excited about. Before I could say anything, he greeted me with a devious smirk.

"Check out how I left our other pet-project." His tone worried me. I hastily dropped my handbag and rushed to the laundry cubby.

The cuck had a largish wad of cum streaked across his face. I immediately knelt down and felt a flash of anger coursing through me. My hands instinctively reached out to gently caress him in reassurance, but I withdrew. My eyes locked onto the wet wipes and I instantly resolved to clean him up but I couldn't follow through. His eyes were shut tight and there was nothing I could say. Then I noticed a wallet resting on Steven's stomach. David's wallet, stuffed with Steven's hard-earned cash. I felt sick.

Back in the living room, I flung the wallet at my twisted boyfriend and yelled at him.

"I told you not to fuck with him like this!" At first he laughed and then he caught sight of how angry I really was. "What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

"It's just... It's just a, like, a joke!" He frantically explained, with some residual cheekiness still belying his innocence. I just stared at him in exasperation, and then stormed over to the couch. I sighed heavily and collapsed into it, rubbing my forehead. He watched me cautiously for a while, and then joined me, taking my hand in his. We sat there for a while, contemplating the outer limits of reckless amorality.

"It's nothing we haven't done to him before..." He implored, soothingly. I just looked at him. I'd known for a while now that he wasn't a "nice" person, that was obvious. I was ok with that as long as he didn't devolve into a full-blown psycho sadist, and this was definitely a bit of a warning sign. We talked and he agreed to sleep on the couch for the night. Not exactly a commensurate punishment, but it was the kind of indignity his kind of personality would find quite painful.

Alone in bed, I wrestled with myself and my wrongdoing. My husband was a genuinely pleasant, kind person who only ever wanted to love me and treat me like a princess. How could I have let all this happen? But the more this seedy game carried on, the more it seemed like this was his way of loving me. He'd freely admit that he had a masochistic streak, and this was just how he got his sick kicks. I moaned into my pillow. Why couldn't I just be a normal person with a normal sexuality in a normal relationship?

The stain on Steven's face was still there the next day when David returned to my bed. Well, Steven's bed, I guess. At every feeding session, at every dental hygiene session, I wanted to quickly wipe it off but somehow I couldn't. Either I didn't want to acknowledge it was there, or secretly I thought it might help him come to terms with his new reality.

And what a new reality it was. The first time David changed him, I kept watch just out of sight. As a staunch child-free fanatic, I steadfastly refused to do any of the diaper changes myself, but after David's indiscretion I couldn't just leave him alone with the boy either. It was always conducted in complete silence. So there was no direct evidence that this was utterly demolishing Steven's psyche, absolutely reconfiguring his brain into something frail and fragile. Not a single "fuck you" or even a despondent whimper. But the silent acquiescence spoke volumes. And this was what we both wanted, after all. A quiet and obedient servant. Isn't that what we wanted?

A week in, halfway through our barbaric experiment, I found myself alone all day with my husband in the apartment. A Saturday like this typically would have involved the two of us out shopping, or at an event, or just snuggled up together enjoying the bond we shared with each other. Instead, he was chained up in a tiny room and I was alone on the couch overcome with guilt. There was simply no denying that this whole thing was for the best. But the ends couldn't possibly justify these means... I went to see him, and took off his ball gag.

"Steven. Steven it's me. Talk to me. I want to know that you're ok. Talk to me," I pleaded with him. He swallowed hard and he looked at me adoringly.

"I'm not allowed to talk," he said, simply.

"It's fine, baby, it's fine. Talk to me. You're allowed. Tell me it's ok, please."

"It's ok."

My heart was breaking. This was going to take him a long long time to process. I hugged him tightly.

"I love you baby," I said, kissing him gently.

"I love you too and I love uhh," he winced and stopped, breaking eye contact. Surely not...

"What?"

"I love you and uhmmm," he smiled bravely and laughed nervously, "I love you and I uhmmm I'll do... What David says, and uhmm... He's not... He's fine, and we're all, uhm, we're going to... We'll be happy, all of us, uhm, together... Right?"

I hugged him again. I couldn't possibly let him see how I reacted to that. How the hell could I react to that? What was I even feeling? Just intensity. Just a tangled writhing ball of rushing passion. I stayed there holding him for what seemed like a long time. And then I heard the slam of the front door. I quickly reapplied his ball gag and went to meet the man of the house, filled with burning desire.

I pecked him on the cheek and giggled.

"You okay?" He asked, slightly taken aback.

"Just glad to see you!" I simpered.

"Oh... Great!" He beamed, and presented a parcel. "You'll be glad to see this too, I'm sure," he chirpily suggested as he led me into the living room. "Just picked it up from the sports centre."

We'd had a variety of deliveries recently, mainly framed lewd photographs, so there was a handy boxcutter nearby. I watched as he eagerly tore open the box and pulled out a small gold cup trophy. He admired it for a moment, and started snorting laughing.

"You're gonna hate it," he grinned, handing it to me.

The engraving read "Daddy's #1 Favourite Cum Canvas". Above was a sticker showing Steven's expressionless, gagged face, bathed in seminal fluid. I dropped it onto the couch and kneaded my temple. I couldn't help it. I cracked, and started snickering.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I breathed, "We're going to prison for this..."

I dragged him into the bedroom.