Discovery of a Cuck Pt. 03

I arrived home in a daze after meeting Rick for coffee on Monday night. Rachel even commented that I seemed distracted before we went to bed. Once we were in bed, she immediately picked up on how aroused I was. Little did she know, I was thinking about Rick together with her. It wasn't long before we were passionately making love. At one point, Rachel even commented that I hadn't been so hard or so deep inside her in a long time. And she was right. We always had a good and fulfilling sex life, but there was something more tonight. Rachel was obviously feeling more than satisfied, knowing not only that her husband still had the ability to give her what she needed, but also that wonderful feeling that she could still fuel new levels of sexual desire from her husband.

Only I knew the truth of the matter.

Tuesday and Wednesday passed by in a blur. Wednesday evening I arranged with Max that I'd be dropping him off at his soccer practice, but he'd be hitching a ride home with one of his friends from now on. I told Rachel I was probably going to meet my friend from the gym again after my workout. She knew that I had met him for coffee twice before.

"How'd you meet this guy again?" She asked.

"Oh, it's just this guy I kept running into at the gym. He has almost the exact same schedule as I do for when he goes to the gym and we eventually got to chatting. His name's Rick. He's a mechanical engineer, into soccer and motorcycles," I said, filling her in on some innocent details.

"That's nice, sweetie. It's always good to have friends," she said.

"Yeah, he's cool. He's a bit younger than us, I think he told me he was 32. He's pretty cool and a nice guy. Apparently he always stops for coffee at that Starbucks across the street from the gym and he asked if I wanted to join him," I explained. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not. It's not like you're out at a bar drinking without me. It's good to get out and socialize, sweetie," she reassured me.

As I changed clothes and got ready to go to the gym, I felt nervous, like I needed to impress Rick. It was almost like getting ready for a date with a girl you wanted to impress.

I still had those conflicting feelings. On the one hand, I liked being the typical middle-aged, masculine guy, a typical dad and husband with a good emotional and physical relationship with my wife. On the other hand, I was finding myself drawn to this younger, dominant stud who told me I was a natural cuckold and had confidently told me that he would eventually be fucking my wife. Why did he have this affect on me?

I arrived at the gym as usual. I noticed Rick using one of the weightlifting machines and made sure he saw me as I headed over to the stationary bicycles as I usually did. I couldn't help looking over at him several more times as he worked out. He really did have a perfect physique, athletically fit, muscular, and obviously strong. He was wearing a loose tank top and shorts. The tank top showed off his well-defined arm and shoulder muscles. The outline of his chest pectoral muscles was visible and I'm certain he had the typical "six-pack" stomach. His legs were as muscular as a professional soccer player's legs. Rick was clearly the type of athlete that you knew would be tough to beat for speed, strength, or endurance. And he looked like he could wipe the floor with most guys if he ever got in a fight. I had to stop myself from staring and I wasn't sure that he hadn't caught me looking at him.

When I had finished my usual routine on the stationary bike and rowing machine, I saw Rick looking like he had finished working out, chatting with two other young guys about his age, both of them fit, but not quite in Rick's class. I didn't want to interrupt, so I headed for the locker room. Rick noticed me and called out, "we're going for coffee, right?"

I tried to act casual, and replied, "yeah, I was just going to grab my stuff and head over there."

"Wait up, we'll go together," he said, and turned back to his conversation with the other two guys. They were chuckling over something Rick said.

I got to the locker room, cleaned up a bit, and grabbed my stuff. As soon as I sat down on one of the benches and started to check my phone for notifications, Rick came in. "Hey man, you ready?" he asked.

I immediately closed my phone, gathered my stuff off the bench, and said cheerfully, "yep, all set."

He ignored my response. He went to his locker, put on a sweatshirt and some training pants over his shorts, grabbed his keys and wallet, locked his locker, and said "let's go." Apparently he had the kind of membership at the gym that entitled him to his own locker that he could leave locked.

As we walked to the coffee shop, he asked me the usual "how's the wife treating you?"

"Pretty good," I said.

"And I hope you're treating her good too," he continued.

"Of course," I replied. This was starting to feel like an interrogation.

"Good," was all he said, as we entered Starbucks. "Get us our usual, and that same table you had Monday. I'm going to the restroom, and I'll be right there."

I couldn't help feeling that by matter-of-factly telling me to buy the coffee and get a table, insignificant as it may seem, he was showing me in a very small way who the boss was. I was pretty sure that he knew how insignificant it was, but still did it to make a point, and that he knew I would understand that point. And of course, ordered, I got my drip brew coffee and set it down to claim our table, went back to pick up his grande Americano, added his half-and-half, and brought it back to the table just as he was sitting down. "Nice," he said with a big smile.

"So," he said, "let's review. What's our first rule?"

I wasn't prepared for a conversation like this. I could only manage a confused "ummm..."

Rick laughed. "Dude, I knew you'd forget. We talked about this on Monday. The first rule. We're doing it right now."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry, I remember. The first rule is coffee on Mondays and Wednesdays after the gym."

"Good boy," Rick teased. "So I hope you told your loving wife that you'll be doing this from now on?"

"Yeah, I told her you always have coffee after working out, and that you invited me along."

"Close enough," Rick said, smiling. "I wasn't joking though. I expect you every time. It's okay if something comes up and you can't make it, but then I expect you to text me ahead of time. Which reminds me, we need to exchange phone numbers." He took out his phone and said, "give me your number and I'll text you so you have mine."

I gave him my number, and got his as he texted me. "Okay, put me in your contact list. You can text me anytime, but if you do, just text 'hey' or 'what's up' at first and wait for me to respond. I don't need my girlfriend seeing any weird texts from a cuck. Got it?"

"Yeah, definitely," I said.

"Cool," said Rick. "Now we can get down to business. It's gonna take some planning before we're ready for me to start working on your wife. Before we get there, you gotta learn your role as my cuck."

At this point I was feeling a mixture of nervous and excited. I honestly didn't know what he meant by me learning my role. I was getting an erection. Up to now, I had thought I was primarily aroused by just the thought of this stud fucking my wife. At this point, I was realizing my own sexual attraction to Rick, and it both scared me and excited me at the same time.

"First of all, you gotta realize, this is actually for you. If I just wanted to fuck someone, I could probably have half the women in the coffee shop right now. But that's not what I want. I get off on being a bull, and that means getting women to the point that they need my cock so badly they willingly let me use them, control them, and even abuse them in any way I want. They always come back for more. I told you before, besides my girlfriend, I have a couple of little sluts on the side. That's how they are. Any time I want, they drop everything to come get some cock from me. And I do whatever I want to them. I can be really rough and abusive sometimes. They always come back. I basically own them. I let them date guys if they're good, but they always ask me first. Sometimes I tell them no. Sometimes I make them approve what they wear out on a date. I tell them if they can fuck the guy or not. I totally control them."

I was in awe listening to Rick. I was amazed as he described his level of dominance over his women. I also found myself getting rock hard as I listened to him.

He continued, "I can't say for sure, of course, but I'll probably get your wife to that point too. Man, I'm looking forward to making her another one of my little sluts." He chuckled, "It's going to be quite an adjustment for you, but you'll learn to deal with it. We'll take our time. I actually never did it this way before, but I decided I'm gonna make you my fully trained cuck first, then I'll make your wife into my slut, with your help, of course. So, like I said, this isn't just about me fucking your wife a few times. This is about me dominating you and eventually her as a bull. You'll be my obedient cuck, and she'll be another of my sluts."

I was floored. I just didn't know what to say. Why was I sitting here, turned on by all this? I knew everything Rick just told me was fundamentally wrong. I shouldn't want to have anything to do with this. But I did. I had a great marriage and a good sex life. Why would I want this? If I thought about this logically, Rick was basically just a bully. Why was I letting him do this to me? Why did I get so excited at the idea of submitting to him?

Somehow, Rick seemed to sense my internal struggle. He lowered the volume of his voice and leaned a little closer to me. "You want this. You want to be my little cuck, don't you?"

Dammit. Why was I drawn to this bully?

"Answer me, faggot," Rick said.

It was the first time either of us had referred to it, but finally it was out in the open. I had to admit to myself that I was sexually attracted to this bully, which went against everything I ever thought about myself. "Yes," was all I could manage to say.

"Yes what? Say it. Tell me you want to be my cuck, you want me to own you, and make your wife into my little fuck toy," he said. "Say it to me like that."

I looked down at my coffee and said quietly, "Yes, Rick, I want to submit to you. I want to be your cuck and I want you to fuck my wife and make her your slut."

"That's right. I knew you wanted this. I'm gonna to fucking train you well, then you're gonna introduce me to Rachel, and then I'm gonna own you both," Rick said with his friendly smile. "You done with your coffee? Clean this up and let's go."

With that, Rick got up and casually started walking toward the door. I grabbed our used coffee cups and took them over to the trash, trying not to make it obvious that I was hiding an erection as I did so. I tossed the cups away and hurried after Rick. He was waiting for me just outside the door and we started walking back to the gym parking lot.

As we walked, Rick only said, "my car." I followed him without saying a word. When we got to his car, a newer 2-door Honda Accord, he simply told me, "get in." I did as I was told, not sure what was coming next.

Rick got in the driver's side and closed the door. "We're not going anywhere, I just wanted to talk to you more in private before we head home," he said. "I knew after that first night we went out to Starbucks that you were a cuck, and that you just needed to learn what that means. So I'll be clear, it means that you were meant to serve a dominant bull like me. I'm not just talking about you 'letting' me fuck your wife. I could do that anyway. As of tonight, you're gonna do everything I say. I'm not just talking about when we're meeting or whatever in person, I'm gonna give you assignments, and I expect you to do it and get back to me. Understand?"

"Yes," was all I could manage to say. Rick still had that effect of making me nervous and excited all at the same time.

"I'm fuckin' serious, man," Rick said. "If I tell you to do something and you don't do it, or don't do it right, or on time, I'm gonna fuckin' punish you. That's what I meant by training you. We both know you're a cuck, but you've had a lot of years developing habits acting like you're a real man in public and with your wife and family. I'm gonna have to break you of all that until you just automatically submit. And I'm warning you, my punishment can be physical or emotional, and I can be mean when I want to. You're just gonna have to accept it, take your punishment, and come back like a good little bitch, promising you won't screw up again. Once I decide you're fully trained, then we'll move on to your wife and I'm gonna own her just like I own you. You got all that?"

So many thoughts and emotions were running through my head. Again, all I could say was "yes."

"Okay, good. That's enough for tonight. Go back to your car and check your phone. I'm gonna send you a text. Wait for it, reply, delete the texts, and then go home. What time are you gonna be at the gym next Monday?"

"Six-ten, after I drop my son at soccer practice," I said.

"Fine," said Rick, "I'll see you then," with a nod toward the car door indicating that I should go.

I opened the door, said, "okay, see you," and went over to my car.

I walked over to my car, and got in. I decided to compose myself and let my erection and elevated heart rate calm down. I almost jumped when my phone vibrated, remembering that I was supposed to be expecting a text from Rick. I picked up my phone and noticed I had two messages. Actually, it was a message and a photo. The message read: "Go home to your wife and keep acting like the man she thinks you are. We both know it's just an act. From now on, every time you fuck her, think about the real man she deserves, and how much more satisfied she'll be once she's my slut."

The photo that followed was a selfie taken in a mirror of what must be Rick's bedroom. He was standing there totally naked, with that familiar smile on his face. His perfectly sculpted, muscular body on full display. I stared at the photo for a while. The arm that held his phone up to take the selfie displayed a perfect rounded bicep while his other harm relaxed at his side showed off a nice vein running down over his bicep and continuing through his forearm. Damn, with those arms he would be intimidating on a soccer field or in a fight. His chest and abdominals were beautifully defined, including a clearly hard "six-pack" and obliques. Rick had the typical, super strong looking legs of a soccer player, capable of delivering endurance along with blasts of sprinting and ball striking needed by a good soccer player. I'd never seen a real man, naked, with such a textbook perfect athletic body. His body included just a light amount of hair, primarily on his legs, but not obviously trimmed at all. He just looked perfectly natural, and perfectly, well, perfect. There was no other word. No wonder he found it easy to attract women. Finally, Rick exhibited an above-average sized cock. It hung down in front of him, and appeared to have been ever so slightly erect, almost as if he was starting to turn himself on just as he took the picture in the mirror. In fact, that might have been the cause of his cocky smile. Whatever the case, it was clear that Rick was very well endowed.

Not realizing it, I had stared at his photo for approximately five minutes. At that point, I got another text message from Rick: "Hey cuck, stop staring, delete the texts, go home and take good care of my slut." I looked over at his car and I could see him laughing to himself. I started my car, and drove home.

It turns out that Rick hadn't needed to tell me to think about him every time I had sex with Rachel. In fact, I was thinking about him pretty much every waking moment.