From Cucked Husband to Sub Wife Ch. 12

Chapter 12

Prime and Punishment

Lori and I didn't really talk about what had happened. I reckoned everything had been said already, and we knew were we each stood. Lori stopped the whole "you're stealing my man" thing, having finally realized that he belonged to neither, but we both belonged to him. Despite what you might think, we were both nice to each other as were going through this experience together.

We had our new normal Saturday, with the looming dread that he would be there at some point to punish Lori, for her "sins." Although, of course, I would feel for her when she was going through it. I was now anticipating her punishment for again betraying me with Joe. It was a curious feeling: I wasn't really angry with her, I was beginning to accept her need for this kind of betrayal and understand that despite the misery, it somehow aroused me. But at the same time watching her get punished and knowing she would be punished made the misery, not just tolerable, but worthwhile.

It also helped, that I now recognized that we were both such submissive painsluts that we enjoyed the punishment despite the pain. I could, thus, enjoy her anguish and my vindication completely guilt-free. There was a lot to be said for this form of brutal (literally) honesty.

It was about 6:30 in the evening when we got a text saying he would be there in a half hour. Lori was to be completely naked, and I was to wear my sexy leather Goth girl outfit. As soon as he came in, he couldn't keep his hands off of Lori's tits. I could tell he had some ideas about how he wanted to mark them.

He was also playing with the rings around her pussy. He had left her chastity device off, which was a real treat for Lori after wearing it for so long. He had his handy bag with him. He barked at me to get him a drink and towed her to our bedroom by her nipple rings, which he had clipped together with a small chain.

When I came into the bedroom with his drink, he had tied Lori's arms to a post of our four-poster bed, with restraints and was fiddling around with something at her feet. When I came in, he rose, and I found it was a spreader bar; Lori's ankles were attached and held at about three feet apart. She was swaying back and forth from her tied arms making her beautiful tits look so sexy. They had not completely recovered from their recent torment, but showed most of their former alabaster splendor.

He took out another set of ribbons, black silk this time, from his bag and weaved them through her pussy rings again. He splayed her pussy out again and tied the ribbons to her legs, pulling taut. When he was done tying it off, he plunged an index finger into her wet cunt, as if checking the temperature of bath water. Lori had been a expectantly atwitter all afternoon, by now her pussy was drenched in emollients.

He put in a big gag, shaped like the head of a large penis. He looked over the weights he had us assemble in the text. And pulled out a few much larger ones from his bag. He began by slapping her tits really hard, she grunted with each slap through the gag. From time to time, he would pull one or both her nipple rings slow and steady until I could see the piercing distend. He laid out his usual arsenal of tool along with a slightly larger whip, like the cat-o-nine tails, but with only two tails and much thinner leather, with knots on the ends. He finished with slapping them around and gave them each one last grope.

He then, held up the various implements. "I'll let you choose the first one, don't worry we'll probably get to all of them." He went through all of them, and she nodded when he got to the new whip. The thing looked scary; the two prongs made me think of a deadly snake. Right before starting, he seemed to remember something, took the gag out, and asked politely, "whore, beg me to whip your big fucking titties, bitch."

"Please, whip my tits, Sir. I deserve it Sir. I want to be punished harshly to pay for the terrible things I did." He didn't respond except to start right in. He lashed her once across her wonderful bosom. The whip made very little noise, just as swish in the air, and I couldn't really see or quite hear it strike, but I instantly saw the results. Two bright red curved and jagged lines appeared on her breasts, as if my magic. The pain must have been intense. Lori screamed and grunted into her gag, her body writhing and her glorious tit bouncing around from the recoil. He struck her again this time right by the left nipple, and there was a red line there.

"Harder?" He asked. Yes, please, she nodded. He hit her significantly harder and this time the line he left was clear a cut in her skin. He struck the other side just as harshly with similar results. She was sobbing now, and grunting when the hits came. He took two of the smaller weights he had sent us, and hung them from each nipple, yanking on each one when he had it on.

He lifted each breast by the nipple and then placed two more weights on each one. I would calculate she was holding up about a half pound combined. He picked up the whip again, and this time he did a number of strikes together in several directions. Each time, she would heave her breasts and the weight would pull on them. He added double the number of weights, which meant she was now carrying about pound of weight with her tits.

With the next few hits, he moved down to her stomach and gave her a few lines there with the same effects. He then added the heavier weights he had brought today to the rings in her pussy these looked like they could be a quarter pound each and he put one on each ring, so a pound and a half. He set himself up slight behind her, circled his arm around the post and her, and swipe up at displayed and weighted down pussy. This must have been the worst pain so far because she grimaced as she grunted, moaned and squealed. There were marks left inside her open lips as well as on the mound with the horrible lettering.

He moved on to the cane, without consulting her. He followed a similar pattern starting with her tits and moving down her body. As before, he made specific patterns with the cane. He seemed to be going for a spiral effect, as he started at one angle on each boob and went around in a circle. The whip marked followed more or less the same pattern without the accuracy.

After the caning, he was about start on the crop, but then reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out some thin rope. He took her right and tit and started to wind the rope around the base. When he made a few turns, he pulled the rope over the left boob and made few turns there then he began to go in a figure 8 pattern squeezing Lori's big titties together and leaving two big purplish balls of tit with all the marks from the whipping on them.

He pulled back and admired his handiwork. He tenderly traced all the marks he had just made and settled the weights. He struck her with the crop covering entire area of the two big purple balls. He hit her stomach a few times and spent quite some time reddening her open cunt. He then moved down to the inside upper thigh, where he raised various welts in the delicate flesh there.

When he was finished, he inspected her closely from top to bottom, sometimes tenderly touching her bruised skin. He then untied her arms from the post, but kept the restraints on her wrists and tied them to the spreader bar. Lowering her down as the weights jingled and swung wildly.

In this awkward position, he made her turn so her ass was facing now facing me. This took some doing with her legs and arms tied to the spreader bar and she almost tipped over a few times and he caught her. She did not lose a single weight, which was quite remarkable.

Once she had her back to me, bent in half, he put two more of the heavy weights onto her tit rings and more on her pussy rings. He stood in front her and pulled her ass cheeks apart revealing her gaping asshole and the ugly tattoo, which now seemed so appropriate. He pointed at the "O" and said, "shove you finger in there, sissy."

I had on long black leather gloves with my Goth girl outfit. I pushed my gloved index finger in the gaped hole. There was barely any pressure. I had my entire finger in and it hardly touched the sides.

"Your old friend Joe, did that to her, sissy, and she wanted him to. She didn't give a shit that it would hurt you; she wanted to show you what a wanton slut she is. You want to punish the bitch, sissy?"

"Yes, Sir! May I?"

"Take the crop and hit her hole as hard as you can sissy cuck. Can you do that?" He took her gag out. "This should hurt, slut, but try not scream, beg the sissy faggot to strike you harder each time. I'll decide when you have had enough. The phrase is: faggot, hit me harder; strike the whorehole I gave up to Joe. Do you want to be punished for your debauchery? Beg the cuckold faggot to punish you?"

"Yes, please Sir, I want my faggot husband to punish me. You sissy bitch, punish me for my anal adultery. I couldn't wait to let your best friend to fuck my ass, and I loved it when he came deep in my ass, faggot, hit me!"

"Strike her asshole, sissy, as hard as you can!" I swung as hard as I could; she barely yelped, but did bite her lip.

"Can't you hit me harder than that, even after I let your friend use my ass as cumdump? I can still feel his beautiful cock coming hot spunk deep in my whore ass, you fucking faggot!" She got the phrasing all wrong, but Mr. Jenkins approved the ad-lib.

He nodded; I tried to start from further back and put the weight of my whole body behind the next strike. He tittered; she trembled and spasmed from the whack. Her reaction gave me a sense of pride. She taunted me again as I struck, just as hard, but she was whimpering now, and her taunts lacked that cynical edge. I struck at the ugly black "O" around her hole ten times in all. I have to admit I liked it. It was really bruised and red; and I felt little guilty about it, but also relieved to have exacted some measure of dignity for myself after her hurtful infidelity and her taunts.

"Good job, sissy. Do you feel better?" Yes, I did. I had already forgiven her for the betrayal which (given our circumstances) didn't seem as big a deal as it might have been a couple of months before. But striking her like this made me feel somewhat empowered. I was happy, Da... I mean, Mr. Jenkins let me do it.

"Alright, whore, I don't have too much time to play with you tonight. I'm going to let you suck my cock before I go. Sissy, get your strap-on and fuck her ass with my cock, while I come down her throat. I eagerly removed my plug and put in my end of the strap-on in and the strap over my black fishnets and my thong panties.

"Beg for my cock in your mouth and ass, whore?"

"Please fuck my ass and mouth with your cocks, Sir!"

With her wrist locked to the spreader bar lifted her head to his cock by her hair, forcing her to arch her back deeply. Then he just shoved his marvelous cock all the way down in one quick motion. He wasn't planning on taking long, so I started fucking her ass hard and fast as I could, just as Joe had done last night.

As usual Daddy was thinking of everything because my plug came on, and I was ready to go, whenever. He was fucking her face viciously, like he had a train to catch. It was not very long until she was bobbing her head asking to come, and he was busting his nut down her throat. I had a sissygasm as usual and Lori was coming with him again. He made her clean him up.

He took of all the equipment off her: the weights the spreader bar and ribbons, then carefully replaced the chastity bars, and zipped up his pants, packed his bag; reminded us we'd need to be ready early afternoon to set out to Queens for the soiree at Bob's, and left.

He left her titties tied, but told me to untie her right away and care for her wounds. I did just that. After I untied her, I ran a warm bath and washed her out well everywhere and put soothing ointment on all her wounds. She was silently sobbing and shuddering for much the time. I put her to bed, and she just kept mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Miche..." over and over again.

"Just go to sleep, honey," I said, "tomorrow is bound to be a trying day."

The next day would prove to be even more trying than I could have imagined. Mr. Jenkins sent us extensive instructions on how to prepare before heading to Bob's in the morning, and we spent most of our time following his instructions. We washed ourselves inside and out as was now routine. Laid out the clothes and "equipment" we would need and generally got ourselves ready.

Lori was to wear only a pair of very long white leather gloves, which went past her elbows. they had rings attached at the wrists, mid-forearm and elbow. Their purpose was easy to imagine, but hard to pin down exactly. We figured it was to tie her up somehow, but we couldn't quite make out how. With gloves she wore a pair of matching boots, with super-high heels, that went past her knees and had similar rings. She was to wear nothing else, but was allowed a cover up before we got to the place.

I was wearing one of my cute Catholic schoolgirl outfits, with a microscopic skirt in a Scotch plaid that showed off my pert ass cheeks with my widening hips, and a pink uniform top which was tied at the waist. I had my chunky high-heeled Mary Janes, with white ankle socks with pink bows on the side. My bourgeoning puffy titties were helped along by the gels Lori had gotten me, which made it look like a substantial "rack." A pair of pink frilly thongs completed the outfit. I had the widest flattop plug inside me, which was my constant companion these days, but my clitty was unlocked.

Looking at myself in the full-length hallway mirror, I felt like a beautiful confident young woman. The combination of missing testicles, the corset, and hormone therapy was giving my body a more curvaceous girlie look. I felt much more self-assured as hot young sexy sub sissy than I had ever felt as a man. Just then I remembered what today was going to be about: giving myself fully the massive cock of the man, for whom I wanted so badly to feel pain.

Mr. Jenkins did not come to pick us up because he was busy finishing preparations for the party. He sent a limo to get us, and we rode out to Queens in style.

We arrived at Bob's emporium somewhere around two in the afternoon; most of the other guests seem to be there already. Rather than the main entrance, we were directed to go in the back way. Which brought us right into the playroom.

The guests could be roughly categorized up into three: doms, whores, and cucks. I was the only one to fit in two of those categories... or at least, would be after today. There was Bob and Angel, of course, though she was not a sub, she still fit the "whore" category.

There was Dr. Harris, who had his slut, Vera and her cuck hubby, Bernie, with him. She was a plump woman in her forties, with a very fat ass and enormous, but somewhat formless breasts. She was wearing a tight halter top, of a stretchy and thin material that corralled her massive mammaries into a kind of order, while also revealing every detail of their contours. She had a very pretty face, framed by a mane of long black hair.

On her lower half she wore black garters with straps down her legs. On each of her voluminous butt cheeks, she had a large capital letter H, which looked stenciled in. When she spread her legs open later, I would see a similar arrangement of rings on her pussy as Lori, but she he also had a ring by her clit and one at the bottom of her hole. Her lips were spread out, as Mr. Jenkins had done with a ribbon, instead they were tied with delicate chains to a series of piercings on her legs with corresponding rings.

Tattooed on the inside of the splayed lips read, "CUM," with the wide ragged black outline rimming her cunt forming the "U." Just below, read the word "WHORE," just like the one on my wife's hole. Both, however, had much better penmanship than the scrawl on my wife's body.

I met a very tall gangly man, who devoured me so intensely with his eyes, I felt somehow violated. I recognized him as Fritz from the surgery celebration party. He didn't seem to have a companion, and nodded over to a figure in far corner.

When my eyes adjusted to the light in the darker corner of the room, I recognized that figure as Mrs. Smith. Her body, much of which was on view just now, was just as luscious as it had been, but she looked much older and haggard than would be expected in just eight intervening years. Her beautiful face, which always conveyed a sense of energy, seemed hollowed out and gaunt.

She wore a very elaborate, but short, corset that just held in her waist and nothing else except a pair of very high-heeled pumps. Her tits were just as fabulous as ever, though perhaps hanging a bit lower these days. When I got close enough to examine her, I noticed her tattoos, which told their own sad story. She had the same set of "JJ Jenkins" tattoos as my Lori, but each had a thin polite line crossing it out. The mound of her pussy read "FRITZ'S" in a Germanic font. Later, I would learn her tale of woe.

Larry, our personal trainer, was there and his "whore" was Alex a mini version of himself. They both had hard chiseled bodies; except, Alex was about two-thirds the size. They wore black leather chaps and a matching vest. Alex's shaved mound read, "Larry's Slut" in very neat cursive. His penis, which was sizeable, but nothing like Larry's, of which I had seen hints in our training sessions, and much more of on video, I was seeing it love for the first time.

It was gargantuan; maybe slightly longer than Mr. Jenkins's, but just a tad less girthy. These days looking at cocks like this made me drool from both my mouth and clitty. I had to lick my lips looking at Larry's. "Take a picture; it lasts longer" he taunted and laughed.

A retractable video screen hung from the high ceilings over the C-shaped Bellini in the center of the room, which the words "Happy Birthday, Michelle" were projected. My birthday was months away, and for a moment I wondered who Michelle was and why no one told me it was a birthday party, until I realized what it meant.

Everyone was just hanging around, like at rather drab party, but there was a sensation that something was about to start. As we came through the door, Angel had lifted the muumuu covering most of Lori's body, leaving her with just the boots and the long gloves. The boots and gloves framed her new body in just the right way. Her now tiny elongated waist accentuating her curves. She looked absolutely spectacular.

The marks she had received the night before were nearly pulsing. Deep purple welts and bruises along with the stripes left by the cane on her glorious tits and down her front made a striking statement framed by the white gloves and boots. Even the vulgar tattoo and her big blowjob lips looked nothing but sexy.

After milling around for while somewhat awkwardly, what seemed to be the last of the guests arrived: two women; one very definitely the Domme and the other her whore. Trailing just behind them was a man on a leash with a dog collar that read "CUCK." He was wearing nothing but tighty whities, with the words "Hannah's cuckold" emblazoned in gold lettering.

It was obvious that he had a chastity cage under there, but this dick was just above average size. His cage turned out to be metal and was not overly tight so that his penis managed to be semi-erect much of the time. His wife (the whore) was named Julia. Hannah was their Domme.

Once the new arrivals settled in and made the rounds greeting those present, it seemed like things were ready to move along. Eventually, Mr. Jenkins led me and Lori to the Bellini. He had us stand inside the C and stood on it behind us.

"Dear Friends," he began, as if presiding over a wedding ritual. "We are here to celebrate a momentous occasion for my sluts here, but also for me. I have known most of you for a very long time, and you know most of my proclivities. This will be the first time I am converting a cuckold husband into my sissy boy slut. You all know that I am open-minded, but there are things I just don't see myself getting into. This sissy has changed my mind on some things. Today, I will complete the transformation by taking her for the first time.