The Cuck Boy's Worlds

The Cuck Boy's Worlds

This story is a departure from my usual. It deals with topics and activities that characters in many of my other stories actively rebel against and reject. But these aspects exist in a number of loving Femdom, and other relationships, so I felt that, on a literary level, I needed to explore them. Though some may find them difficult to accept, this doesn't make them any less relevant or real for loving couples that do. This, then, is primarily a story for them. I hope it works

I had worked diligently, even frantically, to complete my full slate of Saturday chores, hopefully to her exacting satisfaction, before my Mistress returned home to our midtown penthouse condo after her afternoon out socializing with friends. I had swept and vacuumed all the floors, dusted and polished all the furniture, scoured and scrubbed both of the bathrooms, washed, dried, folded and put away the week's worth of laundry, and continued to prepare and cook the evening's dinner for two.

When she arrived home I greeted her by the door, taking her coat and the package she was carrying.

"Put those away and meet me in the living room, boy"

"Yes, Ma'am" I replied, hurrying to comply.

'Boy' was the only appellation she uses for me when we are home on these days, though at 46, I am ten years her senior, and am the owner and hard driving director of a highly successful hedge fund in the outside world, an acknowledged Master of the Universe. Despite no longer having any financial need to do so, she continues to work because of her deep pride in having clawed her way up to the highest stratums of the marketing profession. She defines herself as who she wants to be, by her own accomplishments and conquests, not by what others think or expect her to be. She, at times, has benefited from connections my position can provide, but has never taken untoward advantage, as it serves her no good purpose to have she or me be compromised in any way. She is beautiful, elegant, commanding, and endlessly enticing, the perfect accompaniment to my public persona. Our vanilla social life is extensive, varied, and thoroughly enjoyable to us both. We are regarded as quite the power couple. But in our private world, our cherished lives, there is only one power, and she was awaiting my ordered presence in the leisure room.

I rushed to hang up her coat, and put the package on a table in the den, and quickly made my way to stand before her as she sat in her easy chair. As required when we are at home at these times, except when she deems otherwise, I am totally naked but for my chastity cage. She scrolls through her smart phone, occasionally laughing softly before, after several minutes, she looks up at me.

"The place looks reasonably presentable" she begins. "Are all the rest of your chores done?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"And dinner is being prepared?"

"Yes. Ma'am"

"Good. Then you can help get me ready for my guest tonight."

Tonight, her current favorite manfriend, Andre, was coming for dinner, and then for some fun afterwards. She rose and bid me follow her into the bedroom.

"I'm going in to bathe. While I do, pick out some alluring attire and lingerie and have them ready for me."

As much as I yearned to help her bathe, I knew that this was a privilege rarely accorded to me in such circumstances. As she soaked in private luxury, I went into her walk-in closet, and with trembling frustration went through her voluminous wardrobe, coming to my favorite raiment for her. A deep burgundy colored dress that fell just below her knees, and accentuated her somewhat smallish but delectable breasts with just the perfect amount of cleavage, while also seeming to be practically painted over her divine derriere. I had drooled many times when seeing her in it, which was all I could ever do in settings such as tonight. Pulling it out, I laid it carefully on her bed.

The next items to be chosen were her lingerie. Going through her mahogany dresser, I selected a shimmering black bra, and matching lacy black panties, that would hide just enough of what lay underneath to enflame and invite further exploration. Knowing that she preferred her legs bare, no nylons were brought out. Lastly, I proceeded to her extensive shoe collection, and picked out a pair of dark red, open toed, three inch heeled pumps. With all then in readiness, I stood by the bed and waited for her to return.

Some thirty minutes later she emerged from her ensuite, in her long white bathrobe, wearing her white bathroom slippers, and a white towel wrapped around her wet hair. Beckoning me, I followed her to her dressing table, where she sat down with a small smile and gazed at herself in her mirror with me standing behind her. Unwrapping her head towel, she shook her hair, little droplets of spray falling back upon me. Glancing into the mirror again, she handed back to me her hair dryer and a long -tooth comb. I carefully began to blow and comb out her dark brown hair. When she deemed it dry enough, I then used her hairbrush for countless soft strokes to bring it to a fine and even sheen.

Upon her command I then retrieved her mani-pedi kit. Going down upon my knees, she swiveled in her chair to face me. Offering her fingers first, I removed the old varnish from her nails, then filed any edges that needed it to maintain perfect uniformity. Seeing the color of the arrayed evening's clothing on the bed, she selected a rich magenta as her choice for the new polish.

When I finished with her hands and she set them on her lap to dry, I bent forward to remove her bath slippers. I sat back on my heels, and she propped one of her bare feet on my thigh. After placing cotton balls between her toes, I meticulously cleaned, filed, and then painted each nail with the same color. When that foot was done, she replaced it on my thigh with her other, and I repeated the process. Upon completion she placed that foot down on the floor next to her first and I bent further down to softly blow on them until they were dry.

"You may dress me now" she declared when she was satisfied. She rose from her chair and I from my knees. I followed her to the bed, and help take off her robe. My breath hitched as it always does when I'm allowed to revel, even for a moment, in the splendor of her full naked beauty.

"Don't dawdle, boy" she chided, although I know she enjoys the unmerciful effect she has on me. I picked up her bra, and not daring to touch her breasts, fitted them within the push-up cups and brought the ends around to fasten in the back. I then went to my knees again to help her step into her panties, which I guided up to their final destination. She handed her dress down to me, put her hand on my shoulder to balance herself, and placed first one leg and then the other into it. I rose again and brought the dress up around her, and after she placed her arms in, I zipped up the back. I went down to my knees one more time to place her sleek red heels upon her feet. Her entrancing array complete, she glided back over to her dressing table to apply her makeup, of which she used and needed very little. Just as she was putting on some finishing touches, the doorbell rang. The timing had been impeccable.

"Put on your short apron and go answer the door" she ordered. "Don't keep my Andre waiting."

I scrambled up to do as she enjoined, and within moments I was opening the front door. Andre had been here before, and was not surprised to be greeted by a nearly naked servant, wearing only a frilly pink half apron covering my imprisoned member, which itself also denoted another difference in our status in this time and place, of which he was nonetheless aware and undoubtedly approved. He knew what to expect, and what was expected. He is likely in his late 20s, and I strongly doubt he knows who I am in public. I am sure this is well beyond his range of interest and knowledge, and he isn't the sharpest blade in the drawer. He has other attributes, though, which my mistress puts to her good use. If she wants intellectual stimulation, she always turns to me when that is her desire. It happens far more often than one might think, to our mutual satisfaction and enjoyment, but always only in our vanilla world.

"Andre, my darling. It's so wonderful to see you. I've been counting the hours since the last time." My Mistress glided into the room, lighting it up with her incomparable aura.

"The pleasure, as always, is all mine" he leered.

"We'll certainly have to see about that" she purred, taking him by the arm and leading him into the living room, sitting closely by his side on the couch.

"Boy, get us both a drink before you finish getting our dinner ready" she directed. "What would you like, my sweet?"

"Beer" he said.

"I'll have a martini, dry... And dirty" she added airily.

"Right away, Ma'am", and I hustled off to fill their orders. They paid me no notice when I served their drinks to them, their attention directed solely to each other. I backed away out of the room to go finish with their dinner preparations.

When done, I cautiously reentered the living room. I found them entangled together, their lips locked in a firm embrace. I stood off to the side, passively and patiently, although not for the first time this day, and certainly not for the last, there was an uncomfortable tightening in my cage. After many long moments, she became aware of my presence.

"Yes?" She queried, a bit annoyed.

"Dinner is ready, Ma'am."

She sighed. "Are you hungry, my dear?"

"Only for you" he quipped.

She laughed. "There will be more than enough time for that later. Let's go eat."

She led him to the fully set up dining room table, where I pulled out the chair for her to sit. Andre did not wait for me to do the same for him, setting himself down across from her.

"It looks like pretty good chow" he observed on the repast laid out before them.

"Thank you" she smiled. "It has been slaved over all afternoon."

I basked in the implied complements, as I am rather proud of my culinary talents, especially as they benefit and please my Goddess. I served each course, first to her, then to him, and then stood as unobtrusively as possible in the background, ever vigilant to move forward quickly to fill an empty glass, offer a second helping, or remove a finished plate, all the while listening to them laugh and converse, often very suggestively, with each other.

When she made it apparent that they were done, I pulled her chair out for her again, and she rose and she guided Andre back into the living room. I quickly cleared the table, and brought them in their 'requested' after dinner drinks, an Amaretto for her and another beer for him. I found them once again encased in each other's arms on the couch.

"Boy" she addressed me as I handed them their drinks, "Take off my darling Andre's shoes and socks so he can be more comfortable. And then assume the position."

Andre tried, but couldn't completely hide his smirk as I knelt down and carefully unlaced and then removed his shoes and socks, placing them to the side. I then went on all fours in front of them. My Mistress placed her already bared feet upon my back, and he soon followed suit. They bantered and chuckled comfortably as they enjoyed their drinks. After some time, I felt her heels press into my back as she adjusted her position.

"Do you like my titties?" I heard her ask.

"Let show you how much" was his answer. His own legs shifted as he did so.

"Hmmm. That's nice" she mewled as her heels dug deeper into me in response. After a goodly while her feet spread out wider.

"What are you doing down there, you naughty man" she tittered.

"Having some fun" he replied. "And I hope you are, too."

"Oh yes. And don't you dare stop." This was followed by a long series of moans and groans, and further grinding down of her heels, as my encased manhood struggled unpleasantly against its hard confines. Suddenly, she lifted a foot off my back and pressed it firmly against the side of my shoulder.

"Go and get the bedroom ready, boy" she intoned, and pushed me brusquely away as the rest of the legs lifted off. I scampered away to do as she bid.

Entering the bedroom, I first lit the candles on the nightstands, then pulled down the sheets and duvet of the king-sized bed, and stacked and plumped up a number of plush pillows. Not very long after, they followed me in. Andre was now shirtless, and she, as if by glue, was stuck to his side. When they reached the bed, she peeled herself away with her back to him. She reached behind to the upper part of the zipper of her dress.

"Help me with this, my darling."

He pulled the zipper down and she shimmied out of the dress, and turned to face him. I could practically feel his heavy breaths as he regarded her in her scintillating black bra and panties.

"These too" she exhorted, unsnapping her bra. He rushed forward to tear it off and then ripped her panties down and off. She laughed delightedly again, and fell back onto the bed, propping herself up on the stacked pillows. I rapidly adverted my eyes downward and away. This exquisite vision of her was not meant for me in this moment, and I did not want to incur her displeasure.

"Boy, help Andre get his pants off."

He really didn't need my assistance, but I was obliged to do so. I aided him out of his trousers, and then of his briefest of black briefs. Free of all these, his 7 inch cock rose up firm and proud. Although not any larger and thicker than my own when unencumbered, that was not what this was all about.

"Oh, you look so utterly delicious, my sweet" she enthused. "Boy," she called out to me. "Get my lover ready for me."

I don't know if Andre is bi, but I know that I most definitely am not. But that mattered little here. We both know the rules of this game. I crawled forward, and first licked the pre-cum slick head of his prick, before taking it fully within my mouth. I slowly bobbed my head forward and back, trying to generate as much saliva as I could to make him as wet and well lubricated for her as possible.

"Enough" she finally cried. "Come here to me now, my stud"

He leaned toward her and she pulled him down onto his back on the bed, as I took my place off to the far side. She climbed up to mount him, and slowly impaled herself on his obliging tool. She sighed deeply, and then began to rock up and down, gaining speed with each plunge. She continued on and on with abandon before crying out, "Boy. My Ass. NOW"

I scurried behind her and spread her bouncing cheeks with my hands and then buried my face between. My tongue searched for and found her riveting rosebud. I lapped as vigorously as possible, trying to keep pace with her churning surges.

"Lick his balls" she then commanded.

I scrunched down, arching my neck back and extending my tongue far out to bathe his heaving sac. I couldn't be sure, but I sensed that this stimulated increasing vigor in his upward jerks, and more exuberant efforts by my Lady above. She continued in almost an exhausting frenzy, and their hungry yelps chorused together. Suddenly, she reached back, grabbed me by the hair, and shunted me away, and I again rolled to the far side of the bed. She fell off onto her back, spreading her legs, and pulled him up.

"Pound me, NOW" she practically snarled.

He positioned himself on his knees between her legs and thrust himself within her once again.

"Harder" she charged, and he strove strenuously to comply.

"Faster" she compelled, as her gasps became unrestrained cries, and he grunted and groaned with his furious exertions.

"Oh Yes, Oh Yes, Oh YES" she confirmed to the heavens.

"I'm almost there" he panted in reply.

"OUT NOW" she shouted.

With what must have been almost inhuman strength, he stopped in mid thrust and pulled himself out.

While she fully adores and appreciates the ecstasy of the copulation itself, it is the POWER that exhilarates her even more. It is her inviolate edict that none of her manfriends ever expel their emissions inside of her. That is reserved only for me in our other reality. In this one, for them, there is another receptacle.

"Boy. Your duty" she called out.

As I said before, I have no idea if Andre is bi, but again it didn't matter. He was too far gone, and in such great need, and I had no choice. I brought my face forward, and took him within. At the same time, he drove two fingers into her demanding core. As they spread, curled, and bucked relentlessly inside her, I sucked and slurped and ran my tongue continuously on the underside of his shaft. It took only moments before my Goddess arched her back off the bed and screamed out her passion to the universe. At the same time, with his free hand, he grabbed the back of my head to keep it in place, and erupted, filling my mouth, my palate, over my teeth and gums and into my cheeks, with his prodigious spew. He continued until I got every drop, and then slumped down to lie beside my sated Mistress.

I dislike the taste of cum, mine, and even more so that of others. But I knew I had to wait. After many long minutes, as she came down from her high, she finally, lazily, with a smile, turned her head toward me.

My Mistress takes delighted pleasure in pushing my limits, and that is my greatest compensation for all such.

"You may swallow."

And I did, gratefully, as she returned her attentions back to cuddle with her resting lover. With no further need for me anymore, I moved down to kneel off the end of the bed.

It was there that I was offered my reward for the evening. Her always sublime feet lay before me. I leaned forward, pressed and nuzzled my face against their luscious bottoms, before slowly and softly caressing them with my lips, from her heels to the bottoms of her toes. Her soles and toes are the only part of her, in this time and space, that my lips and tongue are ever allowed to touch on their own volition. And I took full advantage, reverently traversing their length and breadth, again and again. As I did, I could hear them above, murmuring and whispering sweet and lurid nothings to each other, and my mind entered that special zone, drifting to consider my upcoming day.

I will rouse myself from my very short night of sleep below at the foot of the bed. Being very careful not to awaken them, I will go to prepare their breakfast, which I will later serve them in bed. While they eat, I will massage their feet, to invigorate them for the rest of their day. After they leisurely finish their meal, I will help Andre dress, and after he offers a long and lingering kiss to my Mistress, he will take his leave. I will then clean up from both the night before and the morning, and begin to prepare and set up for the afternoon, when my Goddess will entertain a number of her Lady friends in their own modern-day coffee klatch, where I will again attend and serve. Unlike her male playmates, many of her female friends do know who I am, but they are totally loyal to her, and fully respect and guard her privacy. While here though, the Ladies do thoroughly enjoy my many services, although my Mistress makes sure that I am never significantly abused. It is a wonderful way to end the Sunday, returning thereafter to our equally blissful weekdays, both in work and play, in our loving, harmonious and, exclusive to each other, vanilla life together, before embarking once again into our always special weekends.

I snap back to my ongoing worship of her sacred soles and toes. I notice that their quiet verbal intimacies have been replaced by the soft rhythmic breathing of well-deserved and restful sleep for them both. I will continue my ardent oral adoration deep into the night, as I know it induces very sweet and pleasant dreams in my Goddess.

In this time and space, this is what we both so want and crave.