Futa and The Cuck's Wife Ch. 04

*Sorry about the delay, there were personal matters to attend to, I hope you enjoy this one.*

Andrew sat down at the kitchen table, his wife Emma had already made them dinner, and Isabella had not yet arrived from work, or with whatever trip from which she elected to stop by first. He didn't want to, and his wife, eating away the food at her plate with a smile on her face, a bright smile. He did enjoy seeing the grin shine brightly upon her face, but happiness was what he didn't feel, not as if their relationship wasn't the same. There was much to be had between them, but he lost control of his life, not after Isabella marked him with her spunk this morning and filled his belly with her intoxicating seed. He didn't think he'd ever say this, but he wanted to return to duty. Not that he didn't love his wife, there was still heart in it, but something had broken.

The door opened. Surly they didn't lock it. The door closed shut and Isabella walked in, a few bags in her hand. A bright smile wrote upon those red painted lips. Andrew turned to her briefly, she smiled at him, and his wife spared not a moment, removed herself from the table, walking towards Isabella, and looked up to her with embracing arms and they shared a deep passionate kiss. When they broke free, they looked into each other's eyes like divine lovers set apart for one another.

"I love you," they spoke, and Isabella winked at him, knowing that would hurt his heart even more. Emma expressed during all this that she still loved him, but now, was it all just a lie?

"How's my little cuckie," Isabella said, leaning over him. His hands jerked, enclosing in on itself into a fist. His heart raced and palm sweat, he wanted to choose violence, but it's best he didn't do that. "Do you have the deed?"

"Aren't you hungry?" Andrew replied, not bothering to look up.

"Uh, uh, uh," she cooed into his ear. "Business first, I know how much you love this."

"No, I don't," he turned to her, and removed himself from the chair. Her hands gripped on his shoulders, gently scratching him.

"It's cute," she smiled, moving herself closer to him, so close that he could feel her bulge throbbing in those pants, brushed against him. "Seeing you try to take your life back, to take control, but that's the domain of men, is it not? Come on, let's not make this any harder than it has to be, Baby."

"I'm not your--"

"I inseminated your ass and gut, I impregnated your wife, and both our cocks share her womb," she sneered. "That makes you mind. I thought we were clear on this?"

"No--" she slapped him across the face.

"I'm tired, Andrew," she spoke.

"No--"

"Andrew," she said after slapping him again. "I'm tired, sit down." The pain swelled in is face as he heard the shuffle of chairs. He stammered, unable to speak as he gently took to the seat. Emma took out a folder and passed it along. He opened it with a trembling hand, a heart string tugged, and he felt like a dog who had just been beaten by his owner. "Now go on," Isabella's now soothing voice entered his ear. "Take the pen."

He glanced at the deed. Both he and Emma sighed, and he remembered what it was like to step through this house the first time. They were going to have a wonderful family together, some picnics, there was room enough in the house for that. But now, all of that seemed a nightmare away. His hand trembled as his fingers gripped the pen tightly, but he couldn't take it upon himself to bring it down on the pen to sign ownership away, and he wasn't getting any compensation for this. It clearly was theft. How was this even legal?

"Go on," her voice crept again. Her hand stretched over, and he felt her breasts press against him. Her hand crawled up his arm with fingers walking, creeping up on him like a spider. "You can do it." He couldn't. He couldn't bring it down to ink the page. "Come on," she spoke soothingly, and she pressed his hand down, the point of the pen touched the page. "It's okay, let my hand guide you."

Her mouth was dangerously close to his ear, and his heart pounded heavily as Emma took a bag from the kitchen and removed herself from the room. His hand was moved as the pen, by his hand, by his pen, but not his will signed his name on the agreement. Her hand removed the pen from his and she signed it in her name. A firm hand touched his chin and turned his gaze to her. His eyes shifted to the side to avoid looking at her in her alluring gaze.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" she bowed her neck, stealing a kiss from him. She took the agreement, placed it in her satchel, and took out a bag, paper, and unmarked, and placed it on the table. "Cuckie,"

"Don't call me that," he said.

"Oh," she smirked. "It's so cute when you try to think you have some control over your life, this would be easier. Cuck. I.e.. Cuckie. You're my sweet little cuckie, forever." Each repeat was like she stabbed him in the heart.

"Not if I divorce--" what was he thinking? He couldn't even finish the subject.

"In the state of the union," she spoke matter of factly. "Divorce requires both parties to consent. Since Emma, our dearest will do whatever I tell her to do, I will not permit it."

He gasped.

"Yes," she laughed, here hand reaching into the paper bag. "You trying to escape, and her, requires my consent. And you and I both know at this point, unless I get bored of you, is not going to happen. Besides," she spoke slyly, her free hand touching caressing his neck, her brown hair flipped in his face. "I just took your house from you. Where are you going to live? The barracks for the rest of your life?"

"Stop that!" he snapped, pushing the chair away. She jerked immediately, the bag in her hand, clutching something unknown inside, and she took her foot, placed it firmly between his crotch, implanting the chair onto the ground.

"Tonight," the bag came free from her hand, and in her hand was a dog's leash. "I'm going to show you how much of a slut I made your wife into." Her toe pressed against his sack, and she leaned closer, and loosened the collar of the leash, before encroaching by his ears. "Tonight," her voice was intoxicating, speaking to a part of him that was previously dormant. "I'm going to turn your world upside down, in ways you never thought possible." She finished putting the collar on. "I trust you had enough to eat, dog."

She tugged on the leash, forcing him up from the chair, but before he could think about what was next, his wife had gone from the kitchen for quite some time now, Isabella frowned. "Dogs don't stand on two legs. On all four legs."

"No," he pulled on the leash. Surprised, she staggered into him, a knee raised, striking him in the groin. Such pain, he'd rather inhale tear gas again, and he was placed on his knees. The leas jerked, and she scowled, slapping him across the face.

"Don't dare," she pointed her painted nail in front of his nose. "Do that again. Come."

She about-faced, walked briskly, tugging him on his neck, hard. Not wanting to incur her wrath again for the third time, he obliged her, crawling on his hands and knees up the stairs and into the bedroom that was once intended just for him and Emma. Shame filled his heart with each crawl he made, never looking up from the stairs, his lungs felt like they were going to cave in. The door creaked open as he was ushered in by the leash Isabella pulled him with, and the door shut, clicking behind him. He hissed silently as he looked to his wife, and she smiled at Isabella from the bed, her shirt partially unbuttoned.

"Now, now," Isabella said. "You be a good little boy and watch, okay cuckie?"

"I'm not--"

"You are," she sneered as she pointed to Emma, and a finger pointed to the ground. "You are such a good little cuck. My cuck, you understand that right?" She turned her head. "Emma, sweetie, don't keep me waiting now. Show your worthless hubby what an excellent cock sucker you've become."

"Yes," Emma bit her lip as she crawled like a dog to her. Frozen in sight, he couldn't keep his eyes off either of them, for Isabella, this futanari, had a power over them both, and her scent was intoxicating. He watched as Emma took her hands to Isabella's pants, undid the zipper, the sound haunting as the buttons came undone, and pulled out a soft, but long cock out of her panties. The veins weren't protruding, not yet as his wife took both hands and wrapped them around it, her mouth approaching, gently kissing the tip.

"Oh," she sneered. "Don't tease me now, that's my job."

"Yes," Emma smiled, eyeing her husband, and he felt daggers pierced his soul. Honestly, he'd have preferred to take a bullet to his chest. She pressed her mouth against the tip, a tongue flicking underneath it. "Andrew, it's okay."

"Oooh," Isabella cooed. "Just like that, but don't stop," Emma wrapped her mouth on the cock, and it expanded almost immediately, Andrew thought his wife's jaw might snap. "Don't look away, cuckie. I hear you turning your head," her hand grabbed his hair and pushed him next to his wife, so he got a front row seat to the action, and he felt blood rushing to his penis. "I want you to watch her do this, okay, I need you to be a good little cock sucker for me too. Don't forget: I own you. You don't need to say anything, just nod if you understand."

He did, and he watched. His wife removed the tip from her mouth, and licked the shaft, rubbing her hands up and down as it grew larger, and a size to which violated everything he knew and understood about the laws of physics. Some precum dripped out of her penis as his wife continued to massage her monstrous sized testicles. With Isabella's free hand, she took his wife by the hair, guided her back to the tip of her cock as she thrust inside. Emma's eyes gaped open as, somehow, her mouth swallowed the cock down the shaft, a bulge down her throat into her sternum. His wife seemed to choke, and he took his hand and pinched Isabella's side.

"Easy," she snapped. "She can take it. Did you forget? She's been choking on my cock for quite some time, cuckie!" Emma pulled herself off her cock, panting. "See? She's fine."

"But you're hurting her!" he said. "You can't keep--"

"Emma," she ignored him. "Get undressed for me, and on the bed."

Isabella dropped the leash as his wife undressed. Removing her shirt and pants, dropped them on the floor, revealing white lingerie. She removed her bra and let them fall to the floor as she crawled on the bed. Laying on her back, her legs spread revealing her delicate pink pussy lips, and her hands touched her inner thigh to stretch them further apart. Isabella walked over, biting her lips as she knelt on the ground, her cock pulsating as it was underneath the bed frame.

"Come here, cuckie," she said. "You're gonna love this now."

Even though the leash wasn't pulled, there was something in the air that compelled him to crawl forward. His wife moaned as his mistress penetrated her with her togue, slurping those delicate lips, and getting moist. His hands shook in frustration, unable to do anything about this. no. It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he was compelled to comply to her demands, and a leash shackled him. Emma's hand touched Isabella's hair, and the wedding ring he bought for her shined with the lantern's light. He was uncertain whether he should attempt a divorce now, if his wife fell out of love with him, and he didn't know why this was now all his fault.

"Don't look away," Isabella slurped. "You'll get a turn after I'm done, don't worry. I like my pets, when they behave of course."

"But I--"

"Bark for me," she sneered at him, and continued to lap away her tongue, and his wife's legs trembled with excitement. "Bark. Like a sniveling dog."

"Woof," he said dispassionately,

"Oh," she said, inserting a finger into the pussy. "You can do better than that."

"Woof. Woof!" he barked.

"Good boy," she said, standing as his wife squirt over her shirt, and she removed it, revealing a wonderful bust, and some abs to go with it. Amidst all her assets, she took flaunting it to a whole new level, and he understood that she knew what she packed, and could and would seduce any man or woman that crossed her path. Whether they wanted to or not, for at the first night, it was clear, consent is not what she was after. "Now watch."

She grabbed the shaft of her massive dick and brought to tip to his wife's pussy lips, rubbing it up and down. A moan escaped her lips as the futanari sneered. The veins pulsated, and the shaft throbbed. Pushing the tip further up, she let the cock escape the lips, and slapped on his wife's abdomen, touching below her breast. He'd seen BBC porn before, and they seemed oh so small I comparison to this. How did it ever fit up his ass that first night without ripping him apart?

"I want you to pay close attention, Andrew," Isabella sneered. "At what a pussy is supposed to look like with a proper cock inside it, not a little man clit like yours."

"But I--"

"Dogs bark," she reminded him.

"Woof," he said, ashamed he complied with her demand. What or who was he becoming? Nor, perhaps the more suitable question is what was she turning him into?

"Good boy,"

She took her cock and slowly inserted it into his wife's womb. Slowly, inch by inch, with a high-pitched moan, she pushed her girl meat into her. Bulging with each gentle thrust, he could see it, and the lips were hugging the shaft as it went in. Isabella cooed, and his wife spread her legs further apart, throwing her head back. His body trembled as he watched Isabella's pelvis touch his wife's, and she pulled out, and then back in, the softball sized testicles slapped against his wife's ass with each thrust, and his wife screamed.

"Yes. Yes. Yes! Oh, God! Fuck yes!" she squealed.

"You see that cuckie?" Isabella moaned, one hand squeezing his wife's tit. "This is what it's supposed to look like. Just like that. Did you ever get," his wife squealed again, legs trembling in an orgasm. "This spot? Oh, fuck you're so tight."

"Woof,"

"Yes, that's right cuckie," she sneered, pommeling her sword into his wife's sheath repeatedly, leaning on her, and both sets of tits rubbed against one another. "You didn't satisfy her enough, eh? Did you even do it for her while you weren't on leave? What were you thinking?"

He didn't answer as she made out with Emma. Her legs trembled, and the moaning, the tongue kissing, the constant thrusting in a rhythm of shame as he looked down, still dressed, but the blood pumping to his penis stopped flowing. The thrusting came to an end, and Isabella squatted next to him, panting as she caressed his cheek. He recoiled at her touch.

"Cuckie, get undressed--" she interrupted herself with a snarl. "I've a better idea."

She took her hands to his shirt, and ripped it off, tearing the cloth, and he got the idea to undo his buttons for his pants before she touched it. He stood, pulling them off, shamed as he was bare in the light before her. "Leave your briefs on and get on the bed."

And he did, laying down as his wife knelt over him, her exposed pussy by his face, the lips spread out. Her tits rubbed against his thighs, and he looked up, panting with the flesh atop him, seeing the massive cock coming towards her pussy again. Isabella's leg raised, and her hips throttled against his wife's pussy, pumping hard, and the balls striking his face were like rocks, but he dared not move.

"Andrew," his wife cooed. "This feels heavenly. We need to do this more often."

Of course, he thought that was a terrible idea.

"Yes, Andrew," Isabella cooed. "We need to do it more often. How can we make that happen? Eh?"

He shook his head, not saying anything.

"Don't be like that--ooooh," she said, a high-pitched squeal. "I'm gonna cum! You best drink it all up, cuckie."

The balls rested on his face, jerking with the streams of cum filling his wife's pussy. He felt the expanse of her belly press against his. The cock and balls were removed from his face, and he looked at a very juicy cream pie, with the filling dripping from those lips onto his chin. His wife panted, and the monstrous cock left his sight as cum covered his eyes.

"Go on," Isabella said. "Drink it all. You must be thirsty."

Reactively, he opened his mouth, and the cum oozed from his wife's pussy into his mouth, coating his tongue. Gulping, she permitted the substance in his throat, as it tasted sweet today. He heard a chuckle, and the bed shifted. He wiped his face clean with his hand, the cum over his face, and his wife knelt on the bed, shifting over to Isabella's side, squatting over the massive futa cock that was next to him, and she plopped herself down, facing their new mistress' feet ass she humped up and down, moaning as the shaft forced her tummy to bulge.

"Ooh," Isabella cooed. "You're wife is still pretty tight," she bucked her hips up, and his wife screamed, squirting over the bed. "Ohh, I might force her to orgasm, Cuckie, what do ya think?"

"Don--"

"Not up too you," Isabella sneered, both hands firm against his wife's hips, and throttled her she meat through Emma's womb. Andrew suspected that couldn't have been healthy for the baby forming inside her belly, but it didn't stop Isabella none.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming," Emma cried.

Panting, she leaned back, and the futa slowly thrust her pelvis inside and out, kissing his wife passionately in a fit of an orgasm. It couldn't be love, but the way that Emma's eyes crossed at the passionate grope at her pussy lips, was none of sweet sensational bliss. Love or not, there was no coming back from this as she kept bucking up, and slamming her cock further into his wife's womb, and Isabella shrieked, spraying a full load into his wife's womb again. How she could cum so much, he had no idea.

"Cuckie," Isabella panted. "Get on you knees now, clean her up. You know, the good slut way. You're a slut, she's a slut. You're a couple of sluts."

"But I--"

"No time for that," she said, rolling out from underneath Emma. "Hurry, that sweet cum is going to waste. Don't want that, now do we?"

"Bu--no,"

"There," she smiled. "You get the idea. You're such a smart little boy."

He complied. Like a good little soldier, he got on his knees and buried his face in his wife's cum soaked pussy, slobbering it up like a snack. He noticed that the womb was gaping wide, still, and he couldn't fathom this being at all healthy for Emma, but as he slurped up the cum, he permitted his senses to be suspended as the salty spunk teased his lips. That was until a pair of hands touched his buttocks. Her fingers kneaded his ass like dough, before grabbing hold of his boxers, and as he opened his mouth, spitting cum on the ground, he heard the cloth rip, and a wet tongue caressed his ass as she spread his buns. The tongue swirled around inside, and he moaned, not meaning too as more blood flowed to his penis.

"You have a nice little hole here," she moaned, slurping at it, before sticking another finger to it. "I want to know it again, you'll let me, won't you?"

He shuddered before he took his mouth back to his wife's pussy. "I'll take that as a yes."

He felt a slab of meat touch the small of his back, and the cock throbbed, and some ooze caressed his ribs. The shemeat departed from his back as the mushroom tip touched his hole, and his legs reactively spread; Isabella cooed as the cock parted him, spreading him, and the head was inside him once more, slowly forcing himself open. Her leg swung around, and she pelvis thrusted into him, her balls slapping against his own with the force, a sharp pain, and a howl departed from his lips. She pulled it out, and then back in, forcing him to adapt to the stimulus. He panted, and his wife got up from the bed, moving to one of the chairs in the corner, and he watched her rub her soaking pussy lips, and stared, moaning.