Emily and Danny Lawson

byMatt Moreau©

"You say they love us, but Denise dumped you?" I said.

"Her bull got her to do it. She didn't want to, but he had power over her that I couldn't fight, not successfully. I know she loves me still, but I just don't measure up in ways that matter to her most, at least at the moment," he said.

"So what's your plan?" I said.

"Same as you, don't know," he said.

"Hmm, fucking wonderful," I said. "Well, whatever. I guess living without a woman isn't the worst thing that could happen to me."

"Yeah, well it's the worst thing that could happen to me. I would do almost anything to get my wife back. I was okay with being her cucky. But, going to bed at night without her being there is real bad. I need her. I need her around me," said Paul.

His words struck home. My nights were pretty lonely too. I needed the warmth of her body, her breath, even her flopping around sometimes like she did. Helluva note.

"You know, Paul, really, I'm in the same boat as you. I need my woman. Trouble is she doesn't seem to need me. Looking back on everything now, I can't imagine how I allowed things to go so far. And all because I was okay with her cuckolding me—in principle. The reality of that is what did us in. I guess you could say that jealousy drove me from her, or, maybe it was her from me. You tell me which it was because I sure as hell don't know," I said.

"Yeah, I can dig it. And no, I don't know the answer to your question. I just know that in my case it was her bull that kicked me out. I mean she was the one to do his dirty work, but it was his idea. She told me so. So, now, I spend my nights in bars crying in my beer," I said.

"Me too," I said, "me too for sure." We talked for some time. But, in the end, the both of us, had nothing so much as the vague hope that somehow, someway things could be worked out.


It was some weeks later that I had a visitor, a very much of a surprise visitor. It was a Thursday evening. I'd come in from work draggin' and more than usually despondent wondering what my wife was doing, thinking. I answered the doorbell.

"Jackson!" I said.

"Yes, Jackson, me," he said. "Can I come in?" I hesitated.

"I won't bite, Danny. Fact is I'm here to maybe do us both a favor. Well the hope is anyway," he said. I nodded, and motioned him inside. Aside from voicing his name at his appearance at my door, I hadn't spoken word one to him. I pointed to the divan across the room; he took the proffered seat.

"I've got a problem," he said.

"And?" I said, finally uttering an utterance.

"And, well, it's kind of your problem too," he said.

"And?" I said.

"Emily is pissed. No, that's not right. She's really angry. She's angry with me, with you, and, I'm thinking maybe even herself," he said.

"And," I said.

"Not much of a conversationalist are you," he said, smiling kinda wistfully.

"Guess not," I said. "Look, Jackson, say what you came to say if you haven't already; so I can get back to my business," I said.

"You need to try again. Give her another chance," he said.

"To do what?" I said.

"To be your wife, and yes, your cuckoldress. It would serve your best interests and hers, and okay, mine too," he said.

"You came here to tell me that knowing our history? You've got to be kidding," I said.

"The only thing that our history, as you call it, demonstrates is that you love her, but are afraid to risk her leaving you for some mythical big black cock. I can't even begin to tell you how remote such a proposition is," he said. "What is also true, is that she isn't with you now only because of your fears. She wants to be with you."

"Really?" I said.

"And, I'll tell you something else," he said. "I want her to be with you. I want her to have you be the one cuddling with her at night. Oh, I won't deny that I want to fuck her. And, further, I won't deny that she wants me to fuck her. But, I also know that she wants you to be the one she comes home to, to love her and make love to her and protect her and provide for her; and yes, to allow her to have her fun on the side cuckolding you." I stared at the man. He had balls of titanium for damn sure.

"And, why would you believe for a fraction of a New York minute that what you've just laid out for me would interest me in the least?" I said.

"You're kidding right. I know you're crying in your beer virtually every night. You miss her every bit as much as she misses you, and your fucking shitass ego is the only thing standing in the way of all of us getting what we want out of life. Deny it if you dare!" He said. I considered what he'd just said.

"You're wrong about one thing. There's no virtually about it. I cry in my beer every night. My ego? Maybe, but it's a mighty big assed fear that makes me skittish about the whole cuckolding thing, the lifestyle," I said.

"And, I understand that. And, I know you're the only one who can fix your problem, I mean your fears. But, and I know this for an absolute fact; it can be fixed," he said.

"I will say you've given me stuff to think about. But, I can tell you right now; I am not at a place where I can live a life of stress and vague hope; not nearly at a place like that," I said. "Tell her that. If I like how she reacts to those words—well—maybe then we'll have something to talk about," I said.


"Yes, that's what he said," said Jackson.

"Whatever gave you the idea that I wanted you to go to him, and talk for me," said Emily.

"No one. I was just tired of watching you drawing more and more inward. You're a gorgeous woman, 'Em, but not gorgeous enough to throw my fun lifestyle away for. And, unless your hubby is lying to me, and I know he's not; you need to—how did he say it—react positively to what he needs and wants, I think was the gist."

"You still should've talked to me first," she said.

"You can beat me later; I mean after I do you," he said, smiling.

"I just might," she said.

He was already unbuckling his belt.


He knocked on the door. The door opened. "Didn't take long for you to get here," said Denise.

"I was in the neighborhood," said Danny. "I was really wanting to speak to Paul."

"He's out of town on Business. Yes, yes, I know I should have told that you when you called. But, then I thought; I knew what you wanted, and frankly you need me not Paul. Paul's a wimp just like you," she said.

"I can see you are not getting what I'm..."

"You want to get back with your wife and you need someone to give you advice and hold your hand when you make the effort. Right? I mean just like Paul and I have," she said. That she was spot on notwithstanding was mildly irritating, but the fact was that she was spot on. I just stared at her.

Over the course of the next half hour, we shared a bottle of wine, talked about nothing worth talking about, and then we did.

"So have you made up your mind what you want to do wimp?" she said, she was not giggling. I gave her a hard look which did nothing to change her look or attitude.

"I'm not a wimp," I said.

"Whatever," she said. "Have you made up your mind?"

"I guess. I want to make the effort, as you put it. I just don't know how. I don't want to be without her, but to be totally out of control..."

"Actually, I can understand your concern. Paul—we went through the same stage of discontent if that's the right way to say it, and we just now barely made it back," she said. "But, unless, I miss my guess, and I almost never do, Emily won't let that happen. She loves you Danny. She also loves the sexual lifestyle you more or less introduced her to. So, I guess it's your call; give her one, a call that is. Talk to her; it can't hurt.

"Denise, you were right. I think you were the right one to talk to; I mean instead of Paul," I said.

"He would have given you about the same advice anyway," said Denise. I smirked.

"Yeah maybe," I said.


"Yeah, Beulah's Bistro, noon time," I said. I hung up after her agreement to be there.

She was late. I'd already killed my grilled cheese and the Heineken I'd washed it down with. I glanced in the direction of the doorway just in time to see her hot footing it inside.

"Hi Danny," she said Breathing hard. "I ran out of gas. Lucky I was only half a block from a gas station, but well..."

"Yeah it made you late," I said. I wondered just how hard up for cash she was. For some damn reason I still felt responsible for her. I knew she and Jackson were sharing expenses, but maybe not as efficiently as might be.

"Yes, yes it did," she said. "I'm sorry, okay. I really tried to be on time..."

"Okay, okay no harm no foul," I said. And, then I ran out of words. She picked up the slack.

"Danny?" she said. I spread my arms in a I-don't-know-what-to-say gesture.

"Danny, I'm sorry about before. You know, at the party. It really was spur of the moment. It just kinda happened."

"Emily, can I ask, what would you like to see happen?' I said. "I mean if you even want anything short of a divorce to happen."

"Ideally? For you and I to mend our fences and get back together as a functioning family again. Danny, that's what I'd like to see happen. Really," she said. I nodded.

"Me too," I said. "I'm just scared. Have been since the beginning. But—I talked to Denise Carton. She's the one that said I needed to talk to you one more time. You know, try to get by my fears and bad feelings. Well, you know."

"That's wonderful honey. But, I've had a long conversation with Jackson. He advised me to just put an end to cuckolding you and to get back to our regular lives.

"Emily..." I started and stopped.

"Yes?" she said.

"I need you to cuckold me. I've always needed it. But, needing and being able to deal with it; well, I just don't know. The bad news is neither do you. If we did we wouldn't be in this pickle," I said.

"Huh?" She was clearly not understanding what I was saying. Or, understanding, was afraid to react to it, what I was saying.

"Denise—well—Denise hit it on the head. I didn't accept it at first, but then I did," I said.

"Hit what nail on the head? Accept what?" said Emily.

"That I'm a wimp. That I need you to lead in things sexual. That I want to see you satisfied and happy in ways that are—well—are beyond me. So, I am willing to be your cuckold finally and permanently. I just hope you'll have mercy on me once in a while if you know what I mean," I said. "But, I will no longer place any conditions on you—us—of any kind. I only ask that you take me back and love me like you always have."

"Huh?" she said.

We talked for a little while longer. She finally got the message, and seemed to be willing to believe that such a complete change of position on my part was not only possible, but a done deal.

"Honey, okay," she said. "And, have no fear, you will get to have me from time to time. I love you way too much to deny you for life. You and I will talk some more, but right now I'm going to go into the bedroom and faint. Then, I'm going to wake up and think about everything you've said before we have our next little talk. Okay?"

We did talk that night. We decided to give the manse thing another shot. I would go through the initiation they evidently have in place and become a true cuckold completely subject to my wife's whims relating to anything sexual. I was excited and so was she. It was going to be a very interesting and hopefully stimulating time for us.


Our preparations for our return to the manse took all day. Well, it did for Emily. Me, a couple of hours.

She looked gorgeous, I looked okay. She was nervous; well, it was truth time: could we do it, would I change my mind when the time came for me to surrender to her and to her bull of the night. Hell, I was as nervous as she was, but, I was also determined. I was committed. I would have to be trusting that she would be a good wife and a merciful cuckoldress. The good news was that I was confident that she would.

She stood in the doorway, in her knee length black evening dress and stared at me.

"Ready honey?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes. And, Emily?" I said.


"I won't let you down," I said. I meant it too. She came to me and kissed me gently on the lips.

"You're my husband, Daniel. You have nothing to fear. I will make it my business to see to it that as my cuckold you will be happy as a clam. Just trust me," she said.

"It's time to go, I guess," I said.

"Yes. Did you put them in the car?" she said. I knew what she meant.

"Yes, they're in there. It's the one thing about tonight that, frankly, I'm not sure of; but, yes, I put the evil things in the car." She smiled.

"It won't be that bad. You're going to be mighty uncomfortable for a bit, but you'll live," she said. She wasn't quite laughing. I shivered.


We arrived at the manse about half an hour early. Emily was holding our little package; she handed it to Arnold; she seemed to know what to do. I got a smile from Arnold, the same guy who'd greeted us that first time, seemingly so long ago now.

"Going to join us for real, now, huh mister Lawson?" he said. I nodded.

"Yes, I guess we are," I said. "We're early?"

"A little, no problem. Why don't the two of you just go get a drink at the bar. Things will star in about thirty minutes," he said.

"Yes, that would be good," said Emily. She took me by the hand and led me to the bar where we both ordered white wine.

"Nervous, honey?" she said.

"A little. But, I'll be okay once things actually get underway," I said.

"I know," she said. "You know I am very proud of you, Daniel. You're the best."

"Well, hello," said Jackson, coming up to us just at that second.

"Hello," I said. Emily just smiled.

"So tonight's the night," he said.

"Yes, I suppose it is," I said.

"You okay?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so. Emily and I have talked about it. I think we're good. Aren't we, honey?" I said.

"Yes, yes we are," she said. "We definitely are."

The three of us gabbed for the next fifteen minutes or so, and then Arnold interrupted us to let us know that we were five minutes from starting. I swallowed hard. I knew the drill. I'd been so informed by Paul the day before. At least Jackson avoided the temptation to smirk.

"Good luck to all of us," he said. I think he meant it.

We headed out to the garden area where a few other cuckolds-to-be were waiting with their wives to be initiated. They were already wearing their collars. The only thing that bothered me a little was that they were all wearing blue collars.

A young girl, probably early twenties but looking more like a junior high schooler, came up to us.

"You're the Lawsons right?" she said.

"Yes we are," said. Emily.

"Pink or blue?" she said.

Emily gave me a look, smiled and looked back at the girl. "Pink for my little sissy," she said. The girl smiled broadly. She handed the pink collar to my wife. I knew my face was as red as a beet.

"Turn around honey so I can fasten this onto you," she said. I felt her wrap it around my neck, adjust it and tighten the buckle. I felt her snap shut the little padlock that guaranteed my humiliation as a sissy cuckold for the rest of the night.

"There," she said, "everyone will know you're my sissy boy now. This is going to be fun." Arnold came up to us.

The little girl, for such she was in stature, came around to face me full on. I have to pants you, sir," she said. "You have to go up there naked from the waist down. Please kick off your shoes; we'll leave your socks on." I complied and she proceeded to undo my pants and pull them down. My underpants were next.

"It's time to go up to the scaffold," said Arnold, who'd been standing by watching the proceedings. Emily frowned.

"Sorry, honey, but you know..."

"Yes, I know," I said.

On the raised platform, that Arnold had referred to as the scaffold, were six sets of stocks. There were lengths of rope hanging loosely on all of them. The stocks were all facing inward. Once our heads were to be locked in place and our butts would be facing outward toward the audience. I saw our little package at the base of the one of the stocks with the number four emblazoned on it. I swallowed. It was six-to-five and pick 'em what was going to be worse for me: the doubtless savage spanking that I was about to endure, or the absolutely crushing humiliation that would follow it. Whatever, Emily led me forward to number four.

"You okay, honey? This is it. It's going to sting, I know, but it won't last too long," she said.

"I—I—guess so. I just hope I don't disgrace myself," I said.

"You won't. I have confidence in you. It's been kind of a long road, but we're here now. It's time to do it."

I nodded. The time for words was over. It was, as she said, time to get it done.

"Turn around, honey, I need to tie your hands behind you back. As I did so, I saw her reach for one of the strands of rope that hung from stock. "Put your hands behind your back, dear. I did as she said and she secured my hands, quite tightly. Now, bend forward, honey so I can lock your head down into the stock. Again, I obeyed her. I felt the heavy overhead branch of the stock as it was lowered over me securing me from any significant movement. I noticed on of the other rope strands disappearing to my left.

"Put you ankles together, honey, I need to tie them together too," she said. I did and she said.

A final strand of rope disappeared from my left and I felt her binding my thighs just above my knees. I was going nowhere, and there would be no mercy now. I was condemned to endure whatever was done to me.

While my wife had been preparing me for punishment, other wives had been doing the same to five other soon to be initiated husbands. All of them looked to be as apprehensive as I'm sure I did. It was strange, but, I felt a kind of camaraderie with my fellow cuckolds. I supposed, that at some point, we'd be introduced to each other, but as for that, I really didn't know for sure.

Emily came around to the front of the stock and touched my cheek. I noticed the other wives doing something of the same.

"Honey, Maribel, the girl we met a few minutes ago, will be the one to whip you. I will be behind you watching, but I will not be asked to spank you myself. I love you." And, then she was gone. I'd said nothing. I felt as though I were in some kind of zone.

I actually felt the footsteps, or maybe heard them, of the girl. She said nothing, but I sensed her behind me. And then? And then I was seeing stars. The switch began to take a toll on my conscious self. I wasn't at all sure I could do it, endure it. Then, I heard the first screams from my fellow sufferers. I was going to hold out. I would not beg or scream or anything. I was going to make it no matter what.

The howling continued for some minutes. I had been doing my best to count, to keep an accurate count of the lashes across my naked buttocks; I reached seventy-seven. The other husbands were crying and screaming to be let out of their stocks. A couple of them were alternately cursing and begging for mercy. Their prayers were not heard let alone answered; their punishments continued steadily.

Me? On number seventy-eight I howled. I'd tried. But, now I surrendered. I began to alternately sob and howl in agony. Now, I had nineteen to go. I tried to sag down to avoid the switch but there was no way. My legs bound as they did not allow for any significant dodging of the punishing instrument that was torturing my backside. I began to choke on my own spit.

Then it was over.


The girl, Maribel, had come up to raise the bar that had imprisoned my head in the stock. Still bound, I sagged to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. I felt the girl releasing my legs first; then my wrists were undone from the rope. I rubbed them furiously. I felt my butt, but I couldn't really rub it. Delicate didn't even begin to describe their state at that moment.

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