From Cucked Husband to Sub Wife Ch. 04

From Cucked Husband to Sub Wife

Chapter 4

The End of the Beginning

When I came back in with the water and my cell, Lori was kneeling at his feet, looking up into his eyes. He looked down at her from on high; nudged his chin up just a bit and said, "open your mouth and stick out your tongue, slut." Which she did, with expected servility. He reached further with his chin; cleared his throat and spat into my beautiful wife's mouth. "Swallow that you fucking whore!" and she did.

"Thank you, Sir, for your spit, it is so degrading having you expectorate in me, but it makes me feel so submissive."

"Do you want my piss? Slut! Keep your mouth open, whore."

"Yes, please I want your piss down my throat and on my aching tits, running down to my cunt. Please piss in me and on me. Please, Sir!" There was a thick excitement in her voice and almost desperation. He pulled down his boxers, finally, and pulled out his wonderful cock, which we had not yet seen. My wife gasped at the sight of it and the mess in my panties got a bit messier.

"Just present your mouth, put your hands behind your back, hold your shoulders back; make sure you show me those fucking big tits." When she had achieved this, he opened the spigot and flooded her mouth with piss. I zoomed in on the action with my phone.

She tried to swallow as much as he could, but he was soon pissing all over, her tits, her crotch and her face, even her hair and eyes. All of the cheap bimbo makeup she had on began to run down her face and she looked as if her face was melting off. The whole time, he was fiddling with her nipples like was tightening a bolt. When he finished, he shook his penis, just as if he had been at a regular urinal.

"Do you want to clean my cock, piss whore?"

"Oh, yes please, Sir."

"Just your tongue; don't suck it into your mouth, until I say you can." She bathed the head of his cock with her tongue and could not contain the glee she felt as she did it. There it was the cock of both our fantasies; and she was licking it madly. He stepped away when he had enough, but we could see that it was hardening closer to its full outrageous proportions. He said to me, "do you want to lick my piss off your whore wife, fuckin' cuckold?"

"Oh Sir, I would love to. Thank you, Sir." I started kissing her and running my tongue on her cheeks. I finished by liking Lori's pussy, where all the piss seemed to have drained. It was the first time I was eating her pussy since the radical deforestation. I loved it, I wished she had done it years earlier. Her cunt was so slick, I enjoyed playing slippery whack-a-mole with her pussy lips, pushing one then the other with my tongue. I got really into it, falling back into our regular routine expecting to make her cum, until I felt her push me back roughly.

After this we took a little breather. Mr. Jenkins drank some water. Lori I both went to the bathroom cleaned ourselves up some and peed.

"Okay, sluts, let's get finished with the whore's training, so we can get to the main events. Slut, go back to kneeling by the coffee table. Cuckboy, you are on close ups with the cell phone." Lori got back in position and he put the gag back in her mouth. He perused his options again, and picked the belt. "Slut, bend over and put your tits flat on the table. I am going to give you five whacks on your ass. As before, count them out in the usual form. May I belt your ass, whore?"

"Yes, please, Sir," she mumbled once again through the gag. He hit violently across her plump ass with the belt. She whimpered through her gag. And finally said the ball gag version of, "one... thank you Sir, please strike me again harder." They went through the five rather quickly in the same formula. After fifth whack, there were five visible welts on her pretty round ass with varying shades of red, black and bruised.

When she had finished thanking him properly for the new welts on her luscious ass, he leaned back examining his work, after which he said, "they're not quite symmetrical. I will give you three more favoring the left side so they match. These won't count; is that alright, cunt?"

"Yes, Sir, please as many as you want." She said again in ball-gagese. He did these quickly and not as hard as he had been hitting her. She thanked him for marking her, and for the care of marking her symmetrically.

He then had her lay flat on her back on the coffee table, with her freshly beaten ass about a foot and half from the edge. He then placed each foot flat on the table, widening here hips as much as possible. The result was that her bald pussy with its puffy lips was accessible. He couldn't resist giving it a squeeze as if checking a peach for ripeness. He picked up the riding crop and said, "I going to strike you five times on your pussy. These are my last choice the next thirty will be up to you. May I strike your nasty cunt, whore?"

"Yes, please, Sir. I want my whore cunt whipped before you use it, please strike it hard, Sir. Claim my pussy from my sissy cuckold husband. Hit it hard; it's your pussy now, Sir." From slightly behind and above he whipped the crop onto her wet pussy, and did not spare her at all. The noise it made somewhere between a "thwack" and "plop," she screeched in a high pitch wail then twisted face in whirlwind emotions: agony, relief, sadness, joy, torture, pleasure.

The other four whacks went by rather quickly with similar effects. He bent down to once again inspect his work. Her pussy lips were bright crimson with the beating they had just taken. He reached in her pussy and found her clitoris and with his thumb and forefinger manipulated it casually.

"Thank you, Sir. For striking my worthless cunt. Oh my God, it hurts so bad Sir. Can you do something to take my mind off it, please Sir?"

"What do want, Slut?"

"I don't want to be presumptuous Sir, but would you please pinch my nipples hard like before, Sir. I need something to distract me from my burning cunt." He obliged her.

"How's that, fuckwhore?" He smiled, as he twisted her nipples mercilessly. She could only moan, while biting down on her gag.

"Thank you so much, Sir, that does help."

"Okay, slut you have a choice for the next thirty. What would you like?" She thought about it for just a bit, then said, "Sir, would you please spank my ass, I want to feel your big beautiful hand on me. You would strike me ten times that way, if it pleases you, Sir."

"Alright, turn around put your ass up and head down on the table." She got in position and he commenced to give her a brutal spanking on her already bruised and abused ass. He didn't have her count and go through the ritual, but he spanked her more than ten, maybe fifteen times. The pain and pleasure of it must have numbed my wife because she was now only making low moaning and grunting noises and breathing hard into her gag.

When he was done her ass was covered in more bruises, and he patted and fondled it gently, following the traces of the welts he had made with the belt. "Oh my God, oh my God, thank you for spanking my ass. Your hands feel so wonderful. The pain is delicious, thank you, thank you, Sir."

"What do you want now, slut?"

"I'll leave the rest up you, Sir. Do whatever you would like. Please, Sir." He seemed to consider his options, then he grabbed the riding crop again. He put her back on her knees and told her to present her tits again. He then whipped her tits mercilessly for about ten hits, but likely more. He used the lines already there as grid to strike with the crop. He examined her tits by holding each one up by the nipple and moving it around. He decided he'd missed a few spots and asked would she mind getting hit more with crop. No, she wouldn't mind; she would love it, she said, and thanked him for the consideration. He struck her ten more times with the same force.

"Now for the punishment. I want you to lay back on the table again with your knees up as before." As she followed instructions, he had her lower one leg off the side of the table and keeping the other knee up. He grabbed the cane again and struck her hard five times high up on her inner thigh very close to the cleft of her pussy. The tender skin there quickly bruised into thin dark violet lines.

He repeated the process with the other thigh. She was moaning, yelping and drooling through her ball gag, and could not keep still. The opposite leg shook from the violence. When he was done, as usual he inspected his work, running his hand gently over the skin he had just caused to bruise and swell. He had her lift her leg back up so her knees were both up and spread her legs apart as far as they would go. Then he said, "would you like to come, cockslut," like a waiter asking if you want dessert after a meal.

"O Lord, please! May I? Am I allowed? Sir, please, yes, Sir." He ruthlessly shoved three fingers (index, middle and ring) into her vagina and started pumping them in and out with no subtlety or warning. Her cunt was so sloppily wet, however, that his huge fingers just slipped in, and she began moaning instantly through her gag.

"Make sure to ask before you come, slut."

"Yeth, Thir, oh, thank oooh, Thur!" She responded. As he increased the speed of his pistoning fingers, with his other hand he flicked her clit with the cane. But despite the slightness of his movement, it seemed to have a big effect on my wife. She squealed in pain through the gag, but it was hard to tell which were louder the squeals of pain or the moans of pleasure. He added his pinkie and was now practically fistfucking her twat with all but his thumb.

He was slamming into her feverishly, and she was responding by spasming and convulsing her body. She was close. He then flicked her again with the cane, this time twice in a row. Her body reeled and her moans were now barely human. She grabbed her huge tits and squeezed them as hard as he had, then took her enormous swollen nipples in her fingers and pinched and twisted savagely herself as he had done. Finally, she shouted through gag almost incoherently, "preathe, Thur, muyiiikummmm?"

"Go ahead and cum, slut." Her body went flat and she squirmed on the table. She couldn't find the right position; she appeared to want to go into a fetal position, but then to stretch out. Her moans even through the gag were almost deafening. I had seen her having the most intense orgasms of our life together in the last few weeks. This was orders of magnitude above that. It took her about two minutes to finish having her momentous orgasm.

After, while she began mumbling dumbly through the gag again and again, "dhank uhhh, Thur, dhank uhhh, Thur, dhank uhhh, Thur, dhank uhhh, Thur..." Even after the main event was over, her body would quake from time to time with aftershocks. Her lips moved around her gag as if repeating her words of gratitude, but nothing was coming out.

He left her to her writhing and mumbling and turned toward me to conclude our business arrangement.

"Alright, Sissy," I know you are eager to suck my cock. And after that! I think I'm ready for a sissy cucky blowjob. Are you ready to conclude our transaction, faggot? Are you ready to officially give me your slutty whore wife for my sex slave?"

"Oh, yes Sir, please, so ready! I have come to realize it is all I have ever wanted, please I want to suck your Cock so much." It seemed to me that he had already taken possession of my wife, which was a forgone conclusion. And I could from recent evidence see she was relishing both the pain and the sexual pleasure this man was generously bestowing on us both. The thought that by simply submitting to him, which I was eager to do, I could provide my wife with this kind of pleasure, which I had already experienced myself, made me proud, and my little peenie stiff.

"Okay, normally, I would give a cuckold like you a lesson in the appreciation of pain and sacrifice, but you are such 'special' little faggot bitch--aren't you? that you would just take pleasure in the pain, without learning the lesson. It seems you may learn the lesson better, if I withhold pain, hmm, faggot?"

He said all this in a mock effeminate voice reaffirming his masculine superiority and mastery over me, and my insignificance in his eyes. I should have been fuming or at least annoyed or hurt by the words and the tone. But all I thought about was that I was about to have that beautiful cock in mouth, and scheming how to get that it in my ass.

"Sir, I am so sorry; I only wish to please you. I don't understand my own reactions to the pain. I like it because it makes me feel more submissive to you and your cock, Sir. If you wish to withhold it as punishment, I of course accept it. I beg you to inflict whatever pain pleases you, so I am not responsible of depriving you of pleasure because of my perverse reaction, Sir."

"Very Good! We're going to work on this sissy. As I said, you intrigue me. I find your sensibilities and reactions alluring. I can see, with just a bit of work you might make a pretty sissy. I think I am going to turn you into my first sissy bitchboi. Now, go get some water, cucky; I'm parched."

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir!"

When I got back with waters for all of us, Lori was coming out of her finger-fuck orgasm coma, Mr. Jenkins was adjusting the cameras. We all drank our waters; I looked over at Lori, she had the most satisfied look I had ever seen on her face, but she wasn't making eye contact with me.

"Sissy," he began speaking in a conversational tone, "this does not happen to me with faggots, like you, but your offer to be castrated, so I can destroy your ass with my big cock has really provoked me. I have to be honest, faggot, I can't guarantee that I will fuck your ass, even with your balls cut out. I won't know until I see it. Would you have it all cut off, leaving you with a little clitty peehole, for my cock, you fucking faggot?"

"Sir, I would do that even with no guarantees, if it would please you." The thought frightened and alarmed me. I had already proposed getting my balls cut off, now I was pledging my little peenie too. I imagined myself as a living Ken doll, with nothing but a little clitty bump. Two things definitely scared me; the ultimate effect of being physically emasculated; but, perhaps even more than that, how quickly and with how little reassurance I had agreed to it.

"Do you just want to become a girl, is that it sissy?"

"No, Sir! I would only do it to please you, and to hopefully experience the marvelous pain your enormous cock would cause so intimately inside my body." I responded, being totally honest. I had never considered becoming a girl before. The idea in itself did not--even now--appeal to me. What enthralled me was the notion of making this ultimate sacrifice to the power of this man and the Cock I now worshipped. That thought made my little dicklet squirm in my soaking wet panties.

His sharp eyes missed nothing; he noticed and said, "Oh my God, sissy. What am I going to do with you, you pitiable fucking sissy?" He said with mock scorn, but I was sure my words and submission had affected him.

"Whatever you would like, Sir!" He smiled arrogantly, as if saying "of course," but I could tell my plan was working. He motioned toward the floor near him. I knew instinctively I should kneel there, and I did. I was looking up at him now like the sheer face of tall cliff with a huge outcropping in the middle.

I was just inches from it; inches from my personal god. My teenie peenie was going crazy, and my heart thumped in my chest. I was sure my fantasy was about to come true. It took every particle of will to keep from just reaching out for it and trying to swallow it whole, like a competitor in hot dog eating contest. Had my fortitude given out, I was sure I would have choked myself to death trying to get it down my throat as far as possible.

But, once again, he completely surprised me. He looked down at me with a look that was genuine kindness, lifted my head by the chin gently. And then he... caressed my cheeks with his massive hand, so tenderly that it almost hurt. I had only experienced his hands in brusque violent bursts, or in cold professional detachment, through latex. But this... it was beyond anything I could have expected. He looked down at me with that same kind, almost loving expression, with his right hand carelessly stroking my cheeks.

"Okay, sissy faggot, I have surgeon friend, who has done this for some of my friends' with sissies. I'll make you an appointment for next week. We'll sort you out in short order, cuckboi."

"Thank you, Sir! I can't wait to please you that way, Sir." But then his right hand came down violently on my right cheek and I felt the weight and heat of all five fingers, just burning through my cheek. I would have screamed loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, but that he shoved his massive thumb in my mouth and I suckled it through the pain.

When I had calmed myself down on his thumb. He took it out, and I turned my head to offer him my other cheek, as I thanked him for the pain and I begged him with my eyes for another smack. He nodded and obliged. This time he shoved just the tip of his cock in mouth as a gag.

It was pure heaven to a new painslut, like me. He held me by the hair and slapped me several more times, not quite as hard, but firmly. Through the slapping, his eyes never lost that hint of kindness from before. This was not punishment or training; it was purely for his pleasure. When he stopped, I thanked him again, and ask if he wanted to slap me some more. I didn't love this pain, like I did the burning in asshole, but I wanted more.

"No, you sissy faggot, that's enough for now. I have an idea for your lesson tonight, though. Whore, get the remote for sissy's buttplug." After recovering from her "ordeal," my wife had been closely watching unfolding events. I had no idea where we stood just now, or what would come next between us. She seemed a jumble of raging lust, anger and deep satisfaction.

I understood we both knew things had radically changed, and no matter what, we had both submitted to Mr. Jenkins's will completely, so he would take priority even in our relationship. She had already said she loved his cock more than me; and my expression of submission to him and his cock told her the same thing about me. She got up dutifully to fetch the remote.

"Sissy, what was your favorite pain so far?"

"Sir, that's easy! the spanking, Sir! I loved that so much, Sir. I love your hands on meyou're your touch. But... I don't think I can take it without coming, Sir."

"Oh, but that's the lesson, my little sissy cuck bitch." He made me get on the table on all fours with my head down and my ass up. When I got close to position, he pushed down hard forcing my back to arch as much as possible. As he did this, I tried to wiggle my ass alluringly. He ignored it. I was bit disappointed; that made me gulped the plug with my ass muscles, which made my clitty hard again.

"See, that's the problem we are going to start dealing with right now." My wife was back with the remote. "Slut, I want you to sit down there cross-legged under your faggot ass husband. Take the riding crop and every time his little clit gets hard you are going to swat it, don't worry too much about how hard you swat it; it's coming off next week, anyway." She gasped at that, but responded appropriately, and got into position.

"Okay, sissy. I am sure you tested all the settings; what was your favorite?"

"Again, easy, Sir, it was pulsate, on just bit over half speed, Sir."

"Alright, slut give the sissy faggot what she wants." He put the ball gag back in my mouth, as he knew the pain was coming.

"Yes, Sir," and the plug came alive inside of me. Having it in all this time allowed me to take it somewhat for granted; though each time I moved or shifted, I would feel its weight and think of the pleasant fullness in my bowels. It took no more than five seconds of the lovely pulsating against my P-spot to make my tiny clit spring to attention, and almost as quickly I was on verge of coming.