From Cucked Husband to Sub Wife Ch. 23

Chapter 23 Boyz in the Ho part I

We walked out down the hall. Once inside, I pleaded again, "Sir, I need to be restrained, please tie me up. I want you to hurt me, so I can forget the emotional pain." My voice was quivering and tearing up, and sniffling.

He just nodded and led me to the winch in the middle of the room and lowered it with the remote. I stood nearly shaking under it while he got rope. He made noose with the rope and tied it around my neck and the hook of the winch, then lifted it until I was on my tiptoes.

I was half-choking, and if I went flat-footed, I would be choking. Daddy used a length of rope to tie my hands up to the rope above my head. He put S shaped hooks through my nipple rings and began loading them with weights.

When he was done, he showed me the bullwhip. I gasped audibly when he did. I had never really been whipped like Lori had. I suddenly remembered something she had just said on the recording, 'I was suddenly afraid of what I had asked for,' but I still felt I needed. I needed to feel this pain because the other pain of jealousy and resentment was worse. It was I realized now the combination of reviving her betrayal, added to what felt like at least symbolic treachery on his part.

He was going to literally put this stranger above me, despite his proclaimed love for me. I knew that it was not the same thing at all, but it felt connected. I was hoping he would break that connection with violent pain he was about to inflict on me. And, I wanted it to be totally separate from this slut coming to take my man.

But I was also doing this for him. He wanted to punish me for what he was about to do to me, and I had to let him do it. I had to beg him to do it, so he could maintain the fiction. I had to make it both painful for me and easy for him to betray me. Feel its weight, and let him do it. He was about to begin, and I realized something.

"Daddy, I know you would like to mark me, and I do too, but I just remember about the Samuelsons. They might be put off, if they can see."

"You are right as usual, Sissy. I will concentrate on your ass and back. Don't get a backless dress, heeheehee! Now, beg me to mark you as mine, Sissy."

"Please, Sir. Mark your property, please whip me hard, Sir!"

"I am not going to gag you, bitch. I want to hear scream, tonight. There's no count I will strike until I'm satisfied, but you must beg for every lash to be harder than the previous."

"Please, Sir. Strike me hard!" The pain of that first lash was unbelievable; I instantly fell off my toes and began choking on the noose. I let myself be choked by it to help the pain ease before pulling myself back up to my tiptoes. "Thank you, Sir for striking, please whip me again harder."

I said this, but I couldn't imagine that it could hurt any more than it already did, boy was I wrong. The second lash was tempered only by the fact that first one was still hurting. I screamed and grunted loudly and again I let myself go flat-footed and choked, before I could respond.

"Holy, Fuck! Sir! That was so incredibly painful! Thank you, Sir for letting me feel such intense pain. Please may I have another even harder. This time I meant it. As painful as it was, and as unbearable as it felt, I just gave myself into it and found that I wanted more. I held on to the thought of how he would enjoy it. Whipping me as contrived punishment was one thing, but whipping because I begged for it.

I could see just how much from the set of his jaw as he positioned me for the next strike. He struck me again twice in quick succession. I think it might have been harder, but I couldn't say if the pain was any more or less. I answered with the usual formula, again after briefly hanging myself, to take the edge off.

He moved down my back and was hitting my ass now. I was spending a lot less time on tiptoes than flat on my feet and choking. After one hit where I almost passed out, I begged Daddy to strike my asshole and my clitty. "I want to only think of this pain and you when those guys are fucking me later, Sir." I knew he loved that kind of thing, and it was true. While he was "making love" to that whore, I wanted to be chastened by pain even as I was pounded out by all their cocks.

He complied with my request and struck me several times right on my asshole. To get my clit, he had me widen my stance on tiptoe so that I was choking the whole time he was swatting it. That was the most painful yet, and were it not for the fact that I was nearly unconscious I would not have been able to endure it. He ended with some swats of my tits with the crop, which seemed not very much, after what I had just experienced.

He was seemingly thinking of what else he could do, when the intercom buzzer went off. "The boys are here," I thought. He lowered the winch, I assumed he was letting me down, but he only untied my hands and then lifted up, so that again I had to be on the very tips of my toes to keep from strangling myself. Then he caressed my breast and kissed me gently on the lips.

"You know I love you, Michelle. Despite what's about to happen. I hope the pain holds you, this should be emotionally painful. You just need to bear it a few days." Then he kissed me more passionately and walked out.

As I hung there sometimes slipping and feeling like I might just asphyxiate, I thought about the whole sequence of events tonight and the fact that he had wanted this. He had wanted to get me to beg him to strike me in advance. This was part of his plan to show this bitch a good to time so as to get her back in line.

It was one of those situations where one is surprised, but not surprised. The thing that made him great at this was his ability to read and manipulate people. He might have asked me to do it, but that would not have served his purpose secondary purposes. I would have instantly agreed, of course; I am submissive sissy bitch, after all. But he wanted me in exactly this emotional and physical state when she got here.

Clearly, though he had made it seem like the whole thing was "spur of the moment," "urgent care needed," this was very likely planned well in advance. She was married to some politician in Washington. Mr. Jenkin's inviolable rule about cuckolding was that the cuck must be present. And, they couldn't just disappear for almost of a week. And this was the long weekend of MLK day. Washington would be closed down. God damn it! He'd done this to me again.

I actually stamped my foot almost losing my balance and actually hanging myself, when he walked back in, carrying a pair of my high heeled stilettos. He had a wicked smile on his face, just like that time in his office when he first proposed he'd take my wife.

As soon as he saw my face, he knew, I knew. The fucking thing was: he had probably counted on this too, which made it even more frustrating. He knew I would figure it out at some point, which is why he kept me busy every minute since I got home. He threw me off balance with the Lori tape, warned me ominously at the last moment of what was happening, then maneuvered me into demanding exactly what he wanted to do.

And now he was ready for me to know. "Aah! Sissy, you know I don't say this ever, but I am genuinely sorry. It had to be done; you figured it out, so you know it's true." He was putting the shoes on my feet as he said this. He looked up at me sheepishly, as if he had done some little mischievous thing for which I should just forgive him.

"It's Joe and the cuck couple. The boys will be along in just a bit. You need to stay hanging just 'til they get here. Don't be upset by whatever I say to them. You are still my special sissy girl? Honey?"

"Yes, Sir." For maybe the first time in our relationship. I wanted to deny him something, but I wasn't quick enough to figure in advance what he actually wanted me to do, so I could deny him. I wanted to scream at him, that he was a lousy snake of a fiancé to put me through this. Then, he would have punished me for that, which I didn't care about; but what if this is what he wanted? So, I thought I would keep my answers proper, but short, for now.

Just then the door opened; it was Joe with our first guests.

"Well, Joe, how are you my friend? It's been ages."

"Hi JJ, too long."

"Aah, the Wentworths, how are you Betty, my dear? and congressman?" Yeah, that's right he was a congressman. So, I was about to meet a congressman and his wife, while hanging from my neck naked with a back and ass flayed? Great!

"Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth, this is my fiancée, Michelle."

"Pleased to me you." I half nodded trying to prevent myself from choking.

"Fiancée? Really, Jordan? This tranny?" This was shocking to me. I had of course faced some looks, some taunts, but this transphobic reaction was alien to me. But calling him by his first name; what kind of bullshit was that?

"Yes, Betty, this tranny! Michelle Cochran is an accomplished engineer, and intelligent and insightful person and the kindest human I know. She is entirely devoted to me and loves me despite all my terrible flaws. Yes, this is my fiancée!"

"Alright, Jordan, don't get your panties in bunch," she said teasingly. I already really hated her; I couldn't see how it was worth it. But I was really moved by his defense of me. He reached out, and took her hand. "This is my "husband" Congressman Billy Wentworth." He came over and took my hand. She might have thought I was just a tranny, but the way he was looking at me made it clear he didn't.

He held on to my hand for way too long, then lifted to his lips, and said with a Southern drawl, "Charmed I'm sure, Ms. Cochran." Mrs. Wentworth smacked his face off my hand.

"Figures you'd fall for her, you fucking faggot. Joe, would you please take care him. I don't want him to get any ideas this weekend." She said haughtily. Joe came over and gently took the congressman and led him by the arm toward the corner of the room where the cuck crates were.

As they walked away, Joe was saying to him mildly, "come, I'll let you suck my cock."

"So, why is SHE, hung up like this, Jordan?" She said dramatically with mock tolerance. I could see what the problem was with her; she didn't really seem like a submissive at all. I couldn't see how this was going to work.

"Why don't you ask her? But first I think you are being quite free with my first name, dear. Not sure you understand what this relationship is about." As he said this, he grabbed a bundle of her voluminous hair and yanked her head. "Let's establish some ground rules, bitch! I am affording you special attention this weekend, but in here, you will address me as Sir. Do you understand, whore?"

"Yes, Sir. It's been too long, Sir, I need reminding."

"Michelle, answer the question, why are you are hung up?"

"Sir, I was jealous."

"Tell her, whose idea was it for you to get punished?"

"Mine, Sir. I needed to be punished to get over the emotional pain this weekend would cause me. And to allow you to show your dominance and ownership over me, to this whore." I said this last bit trying to be rebellious, but I couldn't be sure if it was what he wanted anyway.

"Let's keep a civil tongue, sissy!"

"Sorry, Sir." She walked over to me and inspected my back. She ran her fingers along the welts and cuts on my back.

I resolved to hate her touch, to shrink from her and endure the contact with this transphobic bitch. But then she surprised me: as she ran her fingers down my back, they were soft and warm; she touched me tenderly, almost maternally. Then she got closer and kissed where I could feel the deepest welts were.

"How does the pain help you with emotions?" She asked sympathetically, in a near whisper.

"At first, it's just a distraction--can't focus on jealousy when overwhelmed with pain. But focusing in on just the pain, you come through the other side; it's almost cleansing. But devotion is the biggest part; it's pride in how much pain I can endure, for him. He needs to do it; he enjoys it, and I am happy to have it done to me, for Him. I know the more pain I can endure, the more it will please him. And finally, it arouses me sexually. Feel my clitty."

She reached down and felt my clit, I had been leaking pre-cum for a long time and was a stiff nub. She tussled the weights hanging on my nipple rings. She was standing very close, very intimately, I moaned softly into her ear, "Uuuurrmmmph...mmm."

"Would you mind, if I struck you, Michelle?"

"Not, if Daddy said it was okay." He nodded and handed her the flogger.

"Daddy? huh" she laughed. Just then the buzzer went off again. Daddy put a finger in my mouth, and I suckled on it; then he kissed my cheek and walk off to answer the door.

She held up the flogger nervously and looked at me. "Is it really okay with you?" She asked apologetically.

"Yes, for Him. Please, strike me as hard as you'd like, Betty." She whipped my clitty once with the flogger, not very hard.

"C'mon, Betty, you can strike harder than that. Daddy said it was okay. Fucking whip me like you mean it, Betty!" She tried again and it was better, but not exactly enough. "C'mon, harder!" I might have been wrong about Betty, she came off as too haughty to be a sub, but she was definitely no Domme. She gave up and went back to caressing me, now on the fresh flogger marks she had made, and fondling my dripping clitty.

I was once again surprised by the tenderness of her touch. As emotionally conflicted as I felt about the whole situation, I was really aroused by it. I was also anticipating the men who were coming to fuck me, including Joe, whose cock I enjoyed. The thought of all those cocks filling me up had me quivering with anticipation.

Joe had finished setting up the congressman; he was strapped into the cage with his little willy also caged, as Bernie had. I had been occasionally glancing over there during the operation. His style of Domming seemed to be mostly about coaxing and cajoling. I made a mental note to tell Daddy he might need some work.

Both he and Billy undressed quickly. Then, Joe put the cock cage on him smoothly demonstrating some practice. The congressman's dick was not actually tiny; it was small in comparison to the other two present specimens, but it was just below average, maybe twice as big as I had ever been.

Once he had the cage on, Joe placed him in a crouch in front of him; he reached behind and massaged Billy's ass and spread lube on his hole and fingered it. Billy wiggled his ass to show approval and yanked at his willy up front, trying to get more of the finger into himself. Then Joe let him suckle on his nice cock, while he continued to finger the hole. He took a buttplug and worked it in the congressman's ass gently.

He then strapped in the cuck box. He was immobilized in the crate, with the cock cage locked to the bottom with a chain and his collar strapped to the front of the crate. With his mouth he motioned to get Joe's cock back in his mouth. Joe complied, then he turned on the buttplug, and the cuck almost yanked his own dick off when he lurched forward.

Joe pulled his cock out, replaced it with gag, and patted Congressman Cuck on the head, leaving him panting as he walked toward us. Betty still had the flogger in her hand. She was a bit wobbly, Joe held her up and took the flogger.

"Joe," I said, partly out of frustration, but mostly to show her something, "would you please flog me properly, Sir. I need to feel it before we start and this whore couldn't get up the strength."

As always, Joe was perceptive. He picked up on what I was doing. He took the flogger from Betty and said, "I am going to flog you for being disrespectful to our guest. Beg me to strike, you, tranny."

"Please, Sir, I need it so so bad now, fucking whip me please, Sir." He struck me hard several times in quick succession, and I wobbled on my high heels and choked myself again. Just then Daddy came in with the rest of our guests.

I was still flinching from the pain when I heard Daddy say, "... through here fellas, you are in for a treat tonight. Thank you all for coming. There she is, guys. Do you recognize her?"

The first to speak was George, "Oh, my fucking God, is that Mitchell, Lori's husband?"

I was still sputtering from the blows Joe had given me with the flogger and choking myself. But I corrected him, "it's Michelle, Mr. Jenkin's fiancée."

"Oh, shiiit!" he said, as he approached me and fiddled with the weights on my tits, pinching my nipples and fondling them. "Holy shit, you got yourself some nice titties here."

"C'mon fellas, don't be scared," Daddy motioned toward me to Terrence and a jolly red giant, I presumed was Marvin, from the description. I had been intrigued by Lori's description of his cock on the video. I was eager to see it and more. They surround and began manhandling me. I could feel Marvin's giant hands groping my ass, producing waves of pain from the bruises there.

Daddy moved in with Betty and had Marvin spread my ass cheeks to show her my asshole tattoo. Meanwhile, Marvin was pushing down on my back trying to get me to arch. His weight was making me really strangle myself against the noose. Daddy let the winch down just low enough that I could bend, but Marvin kept the weight on my back, so I was still half choking.

When he opened up my ass to reveal the tattoo, Betty gasped, but then leaned in and traced the letters. I could feel her gentle touch of her finger tracing the U around my hole. I pushed back against it, and it slipped in. It was so delicate and thin that it slipped in without causing much disturbance. It didn't feel bad, but somewhat insignificant. I wondered if that's what it had been like for Lori, when I put my little peenie inside her. I really couldn't blame her, then.

Daddy, pulled her back; and walked her over to the comfy couch by the Bellini, he told Joe to finally let me down and made a point to kiss her passionately within my view. Watching him do this sent me off into an internal jealous rage again; but I did nothing to divulge my feelings. They sat on the couch, and he put his arm around her as if they were at the theater.

Joe took the noose off the hook, but kept it around my neck. He took off the weights from my tits, and suddenly they were aflame with pain. They had become numb from being pulled so long and now the feeling came back, and it was a hot sharp pain like thousands of tiny needles piercing the sensitive nipples.

He yanked me down on all fours by the rope and led me like a dog on a leash over to the Bellini and made me kneel right in front of them. When we got there, he placed me before them, they were canoodling on the couch. Mr. Jenkins had his hand down her blouse feeling up her extensive bosom, and nibbling on her earlobe, which he had never even once done with me.

The boys undressed quickly and surrounded me. They all came at me with cocks in hand. As they approached, Daddy turned her toward the scene and pointed. "Oh, you'll like this, my dear, watch." He cooed at her, as he got up. He left her to join us, unzipping his pants as he approached.

When they were all about a foot away, Joe, put his knee against my tortured back and yanked back on the rope, so my head was pulled back and I was choking again. I was looking up right at Daddy's cock; he sneered at me with a look of anger and some distaste. I thought I knew it was for effect, but it scared me nonetheless.

"Do you want to taste our piss, cunt?" He sniggered.

"Yes, please, Sir, piss down my throat, please!"

"Open your mouth slut!" he snapped at me. I did as he said, just as a torrent of piss began to stream into it including from his cock. They aimed their piss into my mouth like at one of those clown heads at Coney Island, where you squirt water until the balloon bursts. My balloon would have burst a bunch of times.