0 comments/ 10938 views/ 1 favorites Charlie & Me By: dooders As I lay in bed, I begin to think of you. I imagine your face, so handsome, rugged and manly. I think of the way you might tilt your head as you tease me with that sexy smile. I want to know what an embrace from you would be like, with your strong arms and gentle hands caressing my back and holding me close. I close my eyes and wonder what your lips would feel like upon my own. I begin to fantasize about what it would be like to touch you, your face, your chest, your entire body. I can only guess at knowing how soft your skin might be, how good your body would feel next to mine, and how you would move with my touch. I breathe slow and deep and let my mind wander to a place where we are together. A safe place, a special place – our place. Candles lit, champagne chilled, and a bubble bath in which I am in, anxiously awaiting for you to join me. I am relaxing in the warm water as you come in. You lean in to kiss me, a passionate and erotic, sensual and sexy kiss. Your hands touch my face and neck, while you pull me close. Your tongue is soft and persistent. Your arms are holding me while your mouth is exploring me. My breasts, my back - ooh I love it when you lick the length of my back. I can feel you getting hard. You join me in the tub and I lean back, my head against your chest, and indulge in the comfort of your arms wrapped around me. You run your fingers through my hair, kiss my neck delicately, and whisper in my ear that you have been waiting for this moment for so long. You speak of erotic dreams you have had of our first encounter. I feel your warm breath on my ear as you speak each word; hot, moist, tease, cock, pussy…..ohh yes, I hang on every word you say, almost exploding with the desire that is mounting. You bring your hands to my shoulders and rub all my stress away. You kiss that spot on my neck that drives me insane. You tease me with your tongue - just a little, exciting me wildly, yet all the while seeming so innocent. In one graceful motion you turn me to face you. Our eyes lock, without any words you assure me that this is right. It is ok, ok to forget the hurting of my past, ok to give myself to you, ok to let you please me and I to please you. I concede and allow you to touch me just where you feel I need it. I need you to touch me, as I have never been touched before. I need to feel your body upon my own. I need to feel true passion as if it were only meant for me. I need to consume your every touch. I need you to hold me and protect me with your desire. I moan softly just at the thought of you touching me. I want to lie back and take what you give me. I want to enjoy every spot you touch on me, gentle or rough--whatever you feel I need. I crave you, right now. I want you to suckle my breasts and bite on my nipples. I want to feel your mouth and hands on my entire body, long and slow as if it was my first time. I want to feel your lips on my thighs and then your tongue buried between my legs. I want to feel your fingers exploring my body, making me hot and wet. I want your dick, hard and in my mouth. I want you to tease me, until I beg you to fuck me. The time has come. You guide me to the bed and lay me down gently. Your cautious in your movements, you know it’s been so long since a man has touched me. You kiss my forehead, my eyes, my mouth, then move to kiss my neck, shoulders and breast. You lick down my chest and back up, paying special attention to my hard nipples. Kissing, licking, nibbling, making me feel like a woman. My body writhes beneath you, shuttering at your touch. You move your fingers down to my wet hole and enter me with two. I let out a soft moan, it feels so good. You take your thumb and tickle my clit while your fingers are making love to me. The faster you move your fingers the wetter I get, the closer I come to orgasm. Then you stop. You’re teasing me, although I love it, I want to cum, I want to feel your dick deep in my pussy. You move your mouth down to taste me. I feel your strong arms open my legs, wide, wider. You are a master with your tongue. I feel the tip of your tongue tickling my clit, madly, then buried in me. Back up to my clit while your fingers go back inside me. Now this is a feeling that is too good to resist. I moan, loudly – I can’t help it. Your tongue has frozen me, taken over me, the pleasure builds, I have to let go. Oh fuck, I can’t take it, I cum. My back arches, my legs tighten, I melt into the bed. Being the devil that you are, you don’t stop. Your tongue has not tired, your fingers still alive. You keep at me, forcing more orgasms, one after another. I feel high, my body surreal. When you have had enough of me cumming, you move up to kiss me. Normally, I don’t allow this, but you don’t give me much of a chance to resist. You kiss me long and hard, your tongue finding mine and forcing me to enjoy your kiss. After little fight it is my turn to please you with my mouth. I roll you over and lay you back. I begin by given you a hand massage using flavored love oil for an easy glide up and down your shaft. Steady and firm I rub your hard cock until it throbs in excitement. Then I tease it with my tongue. I lick the length of it, flicking my tongue around the rim so that it does a little dance. I tease the head, lick, lick lick. I nibble your cock gently, sweetly and the more I tease the more it pulsates. You want me to suck it, to take you into my mouth, tell me you want it. Say the words and I will give you the best head you have ever had. I catch you off guard by slipping a piece of ice into my mouth. You look at me puzzled, sexy, a little sweaty. I tighten my lips and allow you to enter my mouth, ooh so cold yet so warm. I give you ice-cold head and you love it. You beg for more, the way I suck it, the way I hold it as I take it in, the way my tongue fits around that dick so precisely. I resume the hand job while I take your balls into my mouth. A flick of the tongue, soft moist lips grabbing at them furiously, blowing on the sac that needs such special attention. I’m feeling erotic as I hear you moan and give into my authority. I pull some leather straps from beneath the bed and tie your hands down to the bedpost, then place an eye mask on you. You are totally under my control, I scratch your chest with my nails, kissing at the muscles just aching to be grabbed. I kiss at your neck, your lips, down your body until I reach your erect cock again and again I take it into my mouth. I start slow, sucking the head and shaft, and build my speed up, following it ever so gently with my hand. Licking your entire cock with my tongue, and not forgetting the balls. I take your balls into my hand and massage them delicately as I continue to give your cock a tongue ride. As you scream out in pleasure, I position myself above your body. There is no greater pleasure like the first time a dick enters a pussy. That feeling is enough to make a person cum. That first touch, as the dick slowly pushes its way into a new pussy. The warmth, the wetness, the ultimate gift. I lower my pussy to your dick, grabbing it and gliding it into my soft wet hole. Oh fuck, words alone can not describe this feeling. I start to rock on that hard cock. Pushing forward with my whole body, it’s almost like ballet. Each movement with defined, not seeming whole without another movement. I continue to rock, slow – fast, then slow again. I lift up, not enough to pull you out just enough to pound down on you. And again, uhhh, ohh yes, fuck me. God it feels so good. Fuck me, rock me. I want to cum on you, my clit is throbbing. Up and down, oh god, I’m going to cum, I need to release. I need to cum, I need to, oh my god, what are you doing. You’re so excited you break out of the leather straps, you take your hands and grab my ass and move me where you want me over your hard cock. Back and forth, riding that shaft. Fast, faster, my clit is ready, please let me cum, oh god let me cum. But no, you are the ultimate teaser. You flip me over and enter me from behind, bending me over the bed and holding me by the hair. Pull it, yes. You give me no mercy and start pounding me. Working me, fucking me –oh god. Yes, you spank me, pull my hair and keep it going. Oh yes, I’m going to fucking explode. You turn me over, take one leg and throw it up on your shoulder so you can get that cock deep into my pussy. Fuck me, yes fuck me. You got it now. There’s no turning back. I’m going to cum, and I feel your cock pulsating as my clit is. Please I beg you, let me cum. You stop. You let my leg down, you kiss me so passionately I almost cry. Your soft lips upon my own. Your tongue exploring my mouth, you find that special spot on my neck again. You begin to make love to me. Slow and easy, sliding your dick in and out of my pussy. Gripping my body and pulling me up to you, while you keep making love to me with your lower half. It is slow now, loving. Rhythmic movements, rocking me into you. The pressure is again building, you move faster, and a little faster until I begin to pant again. I am breathing heavy, moaning softly, I want to cum baby, let me cum. As I whisper that in your ear, you begin to pound me again shoving your cock up into me as hard as you can. I just can’t take it any longer, I cum and so do you. In one heated flurry, one tremendous orgasm shared between us. We convulse in bliss, then collapse in exhaustion. We lay almost motionless, attempting to regain a normal breathing pattern, as if that’s possible. Oh, what fun, what penetration, what great fucking sex. Charlie and Me Shit! I slammed my mobile phone shut and trembling with rage, thrust it into my bag. My stupid boyfriend. He always lets me down. I'd taken a trip down to London to see one of my friends and after a great weekend of drinking and clubbing I had had to leave early to meet my boyfriend Rob. He hates all my friends - he thinks that they lead me astray - in fact it's the other way round - and so we had arranged to meet in this bar in Soho before going to see his stupid family. And now he texts me to tell me that he's missed the fucking train. I'm so pissed off. His mother is expecting us, and she hates me. Suffice to say that I don't relish the idea of turning up there on my own. Plus thanks to Rob I'm already late, and now I have nowhere to stay tonight apart from his parents. So I think fuck it. I'm going to have a drink, and fuck her. I've been sitting in this bar on my own for forty minutes - I'm always early to meet up with people and I deserve a drink. So I go up to the bar "Tequila please. Two shots." "Two shots? Had a bad day?" An amused voice cuts across my consciousness and still fuming, I'm about to snap back a retort, but I turn and check out the owner of that sexy, sardonic voice. I recognise him, but how? He is in his mid thirties, tall and well built with dark hair and an attractively jaded face. There was something about him that was familiar, but at that moment, still pissed off, I couldn't tell what. The retort dries on my lips as I realize that this man is sexy. Really sexy. He was looking me up and down appreciatively taking in my long dark hair and almost perfect figure. I'm not conventionally pretty, more sexy and intelligent, but I take care of myself and since I'm only in my early twenties I do like to show off my small waist and long legs. I was wearing a black cocktail dress that hugged my curves and stopped just above the knee with high black stilettos although even with those four inches I'm nowhere as tall as this guy. Suddenly my anger has seeped away and I smile at him. This evening has just turned very promising. Our eyes meet. His eyes are dark, almond shaped, and filled with sardonic laughter, like my own. No longer angry, I shrugged, downing the two shots that the barman brings, feeling the heat burning down my throat with satisfaction. "Could have been a lot better." "May I join you?" His voice dropped an octave to a sexy husk and I sat down next to him as he pulled some notes out of his pocket and paid the barman. "What's wrong?" "It's nothing. I shouldn't get pissed off. Boyfriend. He was supposed to meet me but now he tells me he's not coming down so now I'm really in a mess. We were supposed to stay with his family, but they hate me so I'm not that inclined to go and see them on my own." He laughed, and I found myself grinning. "And now I'm going to miss my favourite TV programme too." "You like TV?" We started talking about TV and within a few seconds found that we liked exactly the same programmes. He had, for me, perfect taste and I was astounded that he knew of things that most people had never even heard of. Within a few minutes we were quoting parts at each other and it soon progressed onto computer games and music. He was funny. After a little while we were making each other laugh so much that neither of us noticed how much we were drinking but his eyes were always sizing me up, looking me up and down as if I were the finest thing he had seen in a long time. "How does such a sexy girl know so much about films and games?" Although I don't look like a nerd, I've always enjoyed computer games and know quite a lot about gaming and new technology. As a gawky teen I had a lot of nerd friends and as I've got older I've kept up to date with new technology even queuing for three hours to buy the newest games on the days they come out. But this guy knew more than me and as the drinks flowed I found myself hanging on his expertise. But his familiarity was intriguing me and so, quite drunk now, I blurted out. "Who are you? You seem so familiar..." "Charlie. Charlie Brooker." Oh my God. Charlie Brooker. No wonder he seemed familiar. I read his stuff every week, even buying the paper specially if he's writing. I blushed and then went pale, suddenly trying to remember what I had said, but he saw my reaction because he raised one sardonic eyebrow, asking "What? Did I say something wrong?" "No, it's just...the writer?" He nodded and I could feel the sardonic smile twisting my lips. How do you tell someone you're a massive fan of theirs without seeming like a freak? He leant forward, letting his long finger trail down my neck and involuntarily I trembled, suddenly wanting him very much. Somehow his other hand was on my knee. "What?" "I'm a really big fan. That sounds crazy but I am." I shrugged and he moved closer. Suffice to say that I didn't mind. Not only did he have the sexiest figure but as he smiled slant eyed at me I felt the alcohol making me rebellious. "I've always thought you were really sexy." "You do?" He looked surprised and his hand was inching its way up my leg. Provocatively I opened my legs a little so my dress ruched up. "It's not just that I'm successful?" The cynicism in his voice had me drawing back. "Yes. That's the kind of person I am. A Guardian groupie." My waspishness didn't seem to offend him, as he laughed and he bent closer his lips close to my ear. "Do you want to fuck me?" My mouth went dry with desire. This seemed like some sort of dream. "Do you want to fuck me?" His eyes were on my high firm tits outlined through the clinging material of the dress. "What do you think?" For a long moment we simply stared at each other until he murmured "Come back to my flat." He took my elbow and the next thing I knew we were in a taxi tumbling against each other in the back seat, giggling and passionately kissing. He slid his hand up underneath my skirt, pulling my tiny thong off with long strong fingers as he gave the driver instructions. Then his fingers were inside me, sliding over my clit, I couldn't suppress a moan and it was such a turn on knowing that the driver was only a few feet away. But the taxi was stopping and dragging me out, a strong possessive arm around my waist, he paid the driver. Pulling me into his house, pausing only to unlock the door, I reached up to kiss and lick at his throat. He pulled me inside shutting the door behind us and almost dragged me up the stairs, kissing me all the way up until we reached his room. Pulling me inside, he pushed me back against the door. His hands were sliding up underneath my dress but I turned around and he unzipped me, kissing all the way from the nape of my nape to the small of my back with gently feathery but imperious kisses. Feeling so desirable, I pulled the dress off and turned, hearing his indrawn breath. "You are fucking gorgeous" "You're gorgeous" I told him and pushed his jacket off his shoulders, kneeling down to unsnap his belt. I unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down, pulling out his big, hard dick. It was huge, at least nine inches and eagerly I leant forward and took the head into my mouth, sucking gently before swallowing inch by inch, groaning in pleasure. I heard his moan and reaching round, pulled him into me, taking every inch deep into my throat. I began to deep throat him, feeling him getting bigger and harder as he face fucked me. I didn't want him to be gentle, I wanted him to fuck me, so I urged him on, bobbing my head as I gave the best blowjob of my life. His dick felt incredible, so big and hard that I was gagging as I sped up but I didn't care, all I wanted was to pleasure him the way he was pleasuring me. But he pulled away and grabbing my hair, lifted my head. "I want to fuck your cunt..." His deep growl made me even wetter than I had been before, my cunt dripping with anticipation. So submissively I stared up at him letting him drag me to my feet and throw me onto the bed. "You are such a sexy little bitch..." He joined me on the bed, and bending his tall frame began to fiercely lick and suck at my hard stiff tits. It felt incredible and I moaned grabbing at his thick dark hair "Oh Charlie, fuck me, fuck me, please..." But he kept on until I was screaming, begging for him, "Please, please fuck me!" Then he lifted his head, his eyes glazed with lust. "You really want me?" "Yes. Yes!" I was out of my mind with pleasure, lifting my hips madly and then his fingers were slipping down between my legs, sliding into my dripping cunt, first one finger then two. "Your cunt is so tight and wet..." He began to stroke my clit, sliding one finger in and out and I couldn't bear it any more "Fuck! Fuck me, oh Charlie..." I came so hard I thought that I would pass out, but he kept on, stroking my clit as he moved over me. Then I felt his big, rock hard dick moving into me, inch by inch and almost cried with the pleasure. He felt so big and hard that all I wanted was to take it all, craving him more than I had ever wanted anyone. Slowly, so slowly he filled me my back arching as I urged him on and then all of a sudden roughly, brutally he slammed into me and began fucking me so hard I felt as if he would tear me in two. It felt incredible, my legs up around his neck as he pounded into me, kissing and biting my neck. "You are such a sexy little fuck, you little slut..." "Yes, fuck me harder, harder!" I was out of my mind with the pleasure, the feel of his huge dick fucking me almost unbearable. But he was slowing, pulling out only to slam all the way back in. I must have come over and over, my pussy clamping his dick with possessive lust. He was so hard, so big, and I never wanted him to stop, clinging to him, licking and kissing his chest as his strong, big body ruthlessly took my small delicate frame. But he was pulling out, turning me round so I was on my hands and knees, my face pressed up against the pillows. Overcome with loss, I moaned but he slammed back into me, filling my cunt with one long thrust. "You love that, don't you slut?" "Yes, yes, please, fuck me..." Over and over he fucked me, harder and faster until with an incredible wave of pleasure and lust I spasmed under him, my body racked with pleasure that was almost unbearable. I collapsed onto the bed but he carried on ruthlessly until I heard him groan above me and he came, shooting what felt like gallons of hot sticky cum into my willing pussy. "Oh fuck..." He pulled out, groaning in satisfaction and I felt an incredible sense of tenderness, like none that I had ever felt before. Rolling over, I smiled tentatively up at him and he joined me, rolling me into his strong arms. "How are you ever let out of the house with a pussy like that?" I grinned and he pushed my hair back from my face, kissing me long and deep. "You want to play some Halo?" For the rest of the night we fucked and played computer games, turning on the TV in the early hours to watch DVDs. It was probably one of the best nights of my life, and as I left in the morning, he insisted on taking me to the station and putting me on the train. Pressing his phone number into my hand as he put me on the train, he kissed me again, long and hard and deep. "Call me when you come down next, you promise?" Charlie and Megan Wilson "Who's that," I said, as we walked down the hall. "Her? You can't afford her," said Marissa. "Besides you've got a date with a switch. So, let's try to focus shall we?" she said. "Yes, yes of course ma'am," I said. For the price of $100 an hour, once a month for the past year, I had had the extreme pleasure of having my hide tanned real good by Marissa. Indeed, during that time, Marissa had been my exclusive date at The Chateau where she worked as a dominatrix. Nevertheless, knew all of the women that worked at The Chateau or thought I did. But, in that time, I had never seen the new mistress that had just passed us in the hall. She had to be new; like I said, I knew all of the other girls. Still, Marissa had always been my woman of choice to discipline me. Typically, up to two dozen hard ones was the norm and that usually with the strap. At any rate, I had decided that tonight I would move up in class; she was going to do me with the switch: a nasty little instrument with which to take the measure of a sub's courage. She led me into the room and switched on the light; it, the room, had an appropriately red decor. I stood in the middle of the room and waited for instructions. She picked up the ball gag from the table across from me and brought it to me. "This will mute some of your screams as we get into the meat of your punishment, Charles. There will be no whining or begging for mercy today. You asked for the real thing, and now you're going to get it. Get yourself up on the gallows, Charlie, and drop your pants down around your ankles," she said. I did as she commanded. The gallows was actually a raised wooden base maybe two-foot square and eighteen inches off the floor. Above it, a noose of inch-and-a-half hemp hung down about waist high, a noose whose other end ran through a heavy hook in the ceiling and over to another hook in the wall where it was loosely tied off. "Hands behind your back," she said. She immediately bound my hands tightly behind me with one of three strands of quarter-inch rope she'd gotten while I was mounting the place of my punishment. Done securing my hands, she did the same with my knees and ankles. I was helpless and gagged. Whatever she was going to do, and I'd asked for no limits this time around, I would be helpless to do anything about it. I saw her go to the narrow supply closet across from me and take out two wicked looking switches. They were going to sting big time. Oddly, I wasn't afraid. In fact, all I could think of was the beauty I'd seen in the hall when we'd come in: the one I couldn't afford. My four-inch cock stuck straight out in front of me. "Well, Charlie, last night some of the girls and I talked over what your sentence should be after you called and made the appointment. Glenda suggested fifty slow ones with the strap. But the others opted for a far worse sentence. That, after I explained to them that you'd requested a really harsher punishment. You're getting the switch today, Charlie, and you're getting one hundred not fifty. They will be slow ones so that you'll have time to really regret your choice," she said. I think I was shaking my head, but she was just smiling at me. "Frightened, Charlie? You should be. It's too late for you to back out." She came close. She laid the switches down on the base I was standing on and wrapped my neck in a silken cloth, presumably to prevent me getting rope burns on my neck: I did have to work on Monday. Done, she slipped the noose over my head and around my neck, tightening it. Going over to the wall, where the other end of the rope was fastened, she took up the slack enough to force me up on my toes so that my head was bent slightly forward. I turned to see her walking toward me. Picking up one of the switches, she walked around me wordlessly taunting me. I saw her raise her arm high. The switch cracked as it impacted by naked buttock eliciting a muted scream from the depths of me. Jesus it stung, and I had ninety-nine to go! My cock, which had been hard as a rock and sticking straight out in front of me, wilted like a flower in the desert heat. My punishment continued. I was crying and doing my best to beg for mercy after the first twenty. She completely ignored me. I was going to get it this time and there was nothing that was going to save me. I was up on my toes and squirming like crazy. Each time I saw her raise her hand I tried to maneuver to reduce the impact; I was mostly unsuccessful. It was hell. I couldn't be sure, but I think after about number seventy-five she started to slack off on the cruelty of the blows. But even so, it stung like mad. My chest hair was soaked from the tears I was shedding. Then, she was done. My punishment had taken forty-five minutes. She casually walked over to the utility closet and put away the switches. Turning and looking at me she smiled. "Well, now we know what a wimp you really are don't we stud," she said, mocking me. She went over to the wall and loosed the rope allowing me to stand flatfooted once more. God was that a relief. I hadn't cramped up, but almost. Removing the gag first, she appraised me. My butt was black and blue and bleeding in a couple of spots. I'd be a week minimum getting over this one. She came to me and played absently with my cock. "Hmm," she said. "It's coming back to life. Too bad you're such a candy ass, or I might be tempted to suck your cock." She was teasing me, but it was working. Even amidst the searing pain of my ass I was becoming almost hard once again. She untied me, and told me to make myself presentable, and then she left the room. Getting down from the gallows, I pulled up my pants, and went into the adjacent bathroom to clean up my face and hair, the latter of which was soaked with perspiration. My gait was not steady, nor would it be for a while. But, at least I was able to control my urge to bawl. Marissa met me in the lobby. "So, how was it stud? Sorry you asked for it?" she said. "No, no. I needed it, but I won't kid you. If you hadn't gagged me, I would have begged you to stop. I mean it; that was really bad for a while," I said. "Yes, well that's what punishment is supposed to be, stud. Remember that next time you ask for special treatment." "I will," I said. ****** My butt was still plenty sore from my once a month session at the Chateau. But, apart from that I was fine. In fact fine wasn't the word: I felt good, satisfied, and kind of giddy. Marissa really knew how to push my buttons. In any event, that had been Saturday last; this was Monday; I had a job aching butt or not. Class over, I headed for the cafeteria a good little distance across the quad. But wait... I guess this is the point in this write where I should introduce myself. My name is Charlie Wilson. I'm a Ph.D. and an assistant professor of History at Hickory State College. At my current age of thirty-six, I find myself in good shape, and still five-five and one-fifty: same as I was in high school all those years ago. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that is so average it really is actually forgettable. Regardless, I was hungry: the usual result when I don't eat breakfast. "Whatcha thinkin' about Charlie?" said a voice behind me as I strolled along the walkway. "Raine, I didn't see you," I said. Raine Morgan was my counterpart in the English department. "I kinda figured that when you jumped like you did," she said. She was giggling. "Nothing just daydreaming I guess," I said. "I'm heading over the caf. I'm starving." "Okay, see you later," she said, and she headed off. And, as she did, I saw her. No, not Raine, but the stunner I'd spotted at the Chateau two days before. She was standing in the student line looking to get breakfast. I stared for the briefest of moments, but apparently not brief enough; she caught me looking. She smiled; I looked down and moved to the adjacent side counter where the teaching staff got their grub. I took my tray and meandered among the tables to the far side of the cafeteria. I tried not to look back, but I did anyway. That I was embarrassed would not begin to tell the tale. There was a big black guy sitting with her. Probably an athlete by the look of him: tall, well built, and smiling to beat the band. Well, and well he might, he was with the prettiest female in the place. I wondered if he knew where she worked on weekends. A horrible thought hit me! What if she were telling him that one of the teachers here was a client! I kept my eyes, not too obviously, focused on them. He never looked my way. I guessed she'd not said anything to him. I got up, dabbing at my lips with my napkin, and took my tray to the dump window and pushed it through. She literally bumped into me trying to do the same thing as me. She smiled. "Hi," she said. I nodded and tried not to seem embarrassed. "Hi," I said. Well, it was a short syllable, and I was able to get it out without betraying the turmoil overwhelming my psyche. "You needn't be concerned, doctor Wilson. I'm not outing you. Just relax," she said. I just swallowed—hard. She knew me. I nodded. "Oh, okay," I said. I turned and headed away, not wanting to get into a conversation. No, that's isn't right. I did want to get into a conversation with her, I was just too damn chicken to do so. I had two more morning classes before I would be office bound for the rest of the day. The school was the academic home to eighteen thousand students. I figured that I might not be seeing her again, at least not so up close and personal, as had been the case today; and I was relieved at the thought. Well, that was my thought at the moment. I hadn't exactly thought about her all morning, as I had kinda pushed thoughts of her to the back of my mind. I plied my trade diligently during my 8:30 to 10:00 and 10:30 to noon classes. Lee's strategy versus McClellan had its uses quite apart from its academic ones. Noon found me once again on my way to the cafeteria. As I entered, I immediately saw her and she me. So much for my optimistic musings; she was smack in my path as I headed for the coffee urn. If I turned and ran, she'd undoubtedly deduce the reason why. I decided to just brazen it out. I went right by her table trying to not pay her any note. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the smirk: she knew. My coffee poured, I had a decision to make. I made it. I pulled up in front of her table. "Excuse me miss, may I join you?" I said. She nodded in the affirmative and gestured with her hand for me to take a seat. "Hi, I'm doctor Wilson, but you already know that, don't you," I said. "Hi back atcha doctor, and I'm Megan Troyes; and yes, I know who you are, doctor. And, I know why you seem to be a bit nervous. But as I told you this morning, stop worrying. Everything's cool." "Well, thank you for that. I was, I admit, a little nervous. I mean my position..." "Doctor, you'd be amazed at how many others also have—fantasies," she said. "I guess," I said. "You're a student here then, miss Troyes?" "Yes, part time. The out of state tuition is high. It kinda limits my options," she said. "How far along are you?" I said. "I guess I'm a senior in terms of credits. Hah! twenty-eight years old and still trying to finish my B.A." she said. I smiled. We talked for some minutes. She kept giving me looks that were hard to read. I made a snap decision. "Miss Troyes..." "Call me Megan," she said. I looked at her. "Okay, Megan, you can call me Charles or Charlie," I said. She nodded. "Can I ask you, would you be interested in having dinner with me this weekend?" She started to laugh. "With you? A professor?" she said. "I don't know..." "Oh, okay. I thought I'd take my shot," I said. "But it's okay. I don't want to seem a boor." She studied me for a moment. "Sure, I'll go out with you, professor," she said, finally. "Well—good," said a very surprised me. She was already writing down her particulars. We talked for some little time. I learned she'd essentially been an orphan from about age six. She'd been poor, and that more or less recently, but her part time job at the Chateau paid well enough for her to be getting along now. As she talked I appraised her physical being. Tall, maybe five nine, and slim. Her hair was longish and light brown. Her features were delicate and marked by very large brown eyes. She had a bubble butt and small A-cup breasts—well, one can't always have everything. In a word, she was beautiful. What got me about her, though, was her personality. On weekends she was a strong willed mistress, but here, in the cafeteria, she was almost gentleness incarnate. I was forced to assume that her weekend persona was an act—interesting. Regardless of anything else, I had a date with her. I wondered how it might go. I mean I was really wondering. ****** I was on time and she was ready. Weren't women supposed to always keep their men waiting. Well, I wasn't exactly her man, but I was her date. At any rate, I appreciated her consideration. "You're on time," she said, "a good sign. Let's go." "I'd thought to take her to a fancy dancy foodery and impress the hell out of her. But, she nixed that in favor of fun! We ended up at The inferno. And the owner's name was fittingly Dante Bartolo, go figure. The inferno was a piano bar and grill, with a sweet singing black girl who reminded me of nothing so much as Aretha Franklin when she was young. We ate, we danced, and we talked, a lot. The elephant in the room never got a mention. I found out about her stepfamily as she phrased it. I told her about my brothers who lived back east. She had a hobby, watercolors; she loved to paint. She found out about my career in Education. Like I said, we talked. Then it was time to go home. Walking her to the door, I actually wondered if I would get a goodnight kiss. Gauging the tenor of the evening, I was of a mind to doubt it. But, I was wrong. The kiss was a scorcher. "Goodnight, Charlie. I had a good time. See you at school," she said. I'd been about to ask her for a second date just as she opened the door. But, in the background, I caught sight of the black man that I'd seen her with in the caf. It deflated me. "For sure," I said. "Sleep tight." She looked me askance. ****** I couldn't get her out of my mind. My dreams had never been so kinky. And she wasn't the only one I was dreaming about: her black lover got a lot of mention in there as well. Did I hate him? Probably. Jealousy will do that to a man. At any rate, I made the decision to try and get her out of my mind. I had no intention of competing with another man for the hand of even a woman like Megan, especially a man who was clearly a jock. No indeed, I had my pride. I didn't see her the next week, nor the next. And, no I wasn't hiding from her. I just didn't try and see her. I was sure she was around, and I guess I had changed my meal habits a bit, avoiding the caf where it had all begun. But then something happened that would be the catalyst for a whole lot of other things. It was a Saturday morning, seven freakin' o'clock Saturday morning! The doorbell from Hell rang and I reached for the gun I wish I had. Not finding one, probably a good thing, I got up, slipped into my robe, and headed for the front door. I opened the door, and then my mouth—wide. "What the...!" I started. "Name's Daryl Radcliff," said the tall well-built black man. "Got a minute?" I looked him up and down. "I know you. You're the guy who hangs with Megan Troyes," I said. "Hangs with her? No, not exactly, I'm her regular bull," he said. "Whatever," I said. "What are you doing here?" "She's wondering why you haven't seen fit to talk to her after your date a couple of weeks ago," he said. I gave him a look that should have indicated that he was out of bounds, but he ignored it, he clearly didn't care. Gathering myself, "She wants to see me?" I said. "Yep, that's about the size of it," he said. "But, if you're her guy, why would she want to be seeing me?" I said. "Her guy? Again, not exactly. I'm her bull, like I said. I get to fuck her, often in front of her boy toys; she enjoys watching them squirm. What can I say; it's her thing," he said. I mean you might have figured that; she does work part time at the Chateau. "Hmm, Daryl," I said, "do I look like I'm interested in being one of her boy toys?" I said. "Actually, yes, you do," he said. I stood back and gave him the hardest look I could. We were still standing in the doorway. "Well, forget you, Daryl," I said, exaggerating his name. Get off my property!" "Whoa, whoa up there cowboy. I wasn't trying to insult you. I'm just here to let you know, that if you might be interested in talking to our girl, that she is more than interested in talking to you with emphasis on the 'more'," he said. "I'm no boy toy," I said. "Yeah, she's darn pretty and all. But, I'm the kind of guy that expects his girlfriends to be one man women, not toy collectors if you get my drift." "Hey, hey, you hardly know the lady if my info's straight. Give her a chance. Who knows, maybe you can turn her into a one man woman or something close to it," he said. I eye'd him. "Close to it? What the hell is that, close to it?" I said. "Hey, just call her. You can always walk if you're really not into the stuff she thinks you're into," he said. He'd said them, the unmagic words; but what he'd said, or more, how he'd said them, was not tinged with arrogance or contempt. He was just delivering a factual message. I was still a little miffed by his boy toy comments, but take those away and the guy wasn't doing anything all that reprehensible. Was I hypocritical enough to deny what he was implying if not actually saying outright? No, no one could accuse me of being a hypocrite. Other things maybe but not that. I nodded. "Okay, I'll call her," I said. He smiled. "Good. Hope to see you again," he said. He stuck out his hand, and we shook. Then, he was gone. I had a lot to think about, consider. How much had she told him? Who was he exactly to her—a bull? Was I willing to be one among many just to have her sometimes, even special sometimes? No, she was mine or not mine, no in between. And, exactly what did she do at the Chateau. It occurred to me that I really didn't know. I'd thought about her all morning. It was almost lunch time. I gave her a call. ****** I was tapping the table top—nervously. She was late: twelve minutes late. I was about to take another sip of my drink when she startled me. "Charlie," she said. Her drink was already poured and sitting on the table in front of me; I'd seen to that: I learned what she drank on our first date. I took the first sip of mine now as she took her seat. "Hello, Megan. You startled me," I said. She smiled. "Yes, I can see that I did. I didn't mean to. Sorry 'bout that, really," she said. "So how have you been?" she said. "Okay," I said. I decided to get to it. "Look, Megan, we had a nice time on our date. And, Daryl, your messenger, got me to thinking. But, I'm not sure..." "Charlie, I know Daryl talked to you. I sent him to talk to you as you say. So, before you go off on me, give me a chance to say my piece. It'll save time. Okay?" she said. I spread my hands in a reluctant 'okay' gesture, and she went on. "Thank you. "The Chateau? I work there part time. I'm not a dominatrix like your Marissa—and yes, she told me about your last visit there: kind of impressive, I mean one hundred!" I said nothing. "She likes you by the way. Anyway, I'm into dominating men and humiliating them and having them worship me: it's a kick, but normally I'm not all into that 'with a whip' stuff . I do it, whip my clients once in a great while, but it's not really my thing. Usually, at the Chateau, I get men that are purely desperate. Men who often are outright begging me to somehow get their wives to come and witness a session with me. I never do it. If they want their wives there; they have to bring them in themselves with no help from me." Charlie and Megan Wilson This is a resubmission of a story I submitted under another name (Broderick Winston) some time ago. I decided to submit under my regular name at the instance of a friend. At any rate here it is. ****** "Who's that," I said, as we walked down the hall. "Her? You can't afford her," said Marissa. "Besides you've got a date with a switch. So, let's try to focus shall we?" she said. "Yes, yes of course ma'am," I said. For the price of $100 an hour, once a month for the past year, I had had the extreme pleasure of having my hide tanned real good by Marissa. Indeed, during that time, Marissa had been my exclusive date at The Chateau where she worked as a dominatrix. Nevertheless, I knew all of the women that worked at The Chateau or thought I did. But, in that time, I had never seen the new mistress that had just passed us in the hall. She had to be new; like I said, I knew all of the other girls. Still, Marissa had always been my woman of choice to discipline me. Typically, up to two dozen hard ones was the norm and that usually with the strap. At any rate, I had decided that tonight I would move up in class; she was going to do me with the switch: a nasty little instrument with which to take the measure of a sub's courage. She led me into the room and switched on the light; it, the room, had an appropriately red decor. I stood in the middle of the room and waited for instructions. She picked up the ball gag from the table across from me and brought it to me. "This will mute some of your screams as we get into the meat of your punishment, Charles. There will be no whining or begging for mercy today. You asked for the real thing, and now you're going to get it. Get yourself up on the gallows, Charlie, and drop your pants down around your ankles," she said. I did as she commanded. The gallows was actually a raised wooden base maybe two-foot square and eighteen inches off the floor. Above it, a noose of inch-and-a-half hemp hung down about waist high, a noose whose other end ran through a heavy hook in the ceiling and over to another hook in the wall where it was loosely tied off. "Hands behind your back," she said. She immediately bound my hands tightly behind me with one of three strands of quarter-inch rope she'd gotten while I was mounting the place of my punishment. Done securing my hands, she did the same with my knees and ankles. I was helpless and gagged. Whatever she was going to do, and I'd asked for no limits this time around, I would be helpless to do anything about it. I saw her go to the narrow supply closet across from me and take out two wicked looking switches. They were going to sting big time. Oddly, I wasn't afraid. In fact, all I could think of was the beauty I'd seen in the hall when we'd come in: the one I couldn't afford. My four-inch cock stuck straight out in front of me. "Well, Charlie, last night some of the girls and I talked over what your sentence should be after you called and made the appointment. Glenda suggested fifty slow ones with the strap. But the others opted for a far worse sentence. That, after I explained to them that you'd requested a really harsh punishment. You're getting the switch today, Charlie, and you're getting one hundred not fifty. They will be slow ones so that you'll have time to really regret your choice," she said. I think I was shaking my head, but she was just smiling at me. "Frightened, Charlie? You should be. It's too late for you to back out." She came close. She laid the switches down on the base I was standing on and wrapped my neck in a silken cloth, presumably to prevent me getting rope burns on my neck: I did have to work on Monday. Done, she slipped the noose over my head and around my neck, tightening it. Going over to the wall, where the other end of the rope was fastened, she took up the slack enough to force me up on my toes so that my head was bent slightly forward. I turned to see her walking toward me. Picking up one of the switches, she walked around me wordlessly taunting me. I saw her raise her arm high. The switch cracked as it impacted by naked buttock eliciting a muted scream from the depths of me. Jesus it stung, and I had ninety-nine to go! My cock, which had been hard as a rock and sticking straight out in front of me, wilted like a flower in the desert heat. My punishment continued. I was crying and doing my best to beg for mercy after the first twenty. She completely ignored me. I was going to get it this time and there was nothing that was going to save me. I was up on my toes and squirming like crazy. Each time I saw her raise her hand I tried to maneuver to reduce the impact; I was mostly unsuccessful. It was hell. I couldn't be sure, but I think after about number seventy-five she started to slack off on the cruelty of the blows. But even so, it stung like mad. My chest hair was soaked from the tears I was shedding. Then, she was done. My punishment had taken forty-five minutes. She casually walked over to the utility closet and put away the switches. Turning and looking at me she smiled. "Well, now we know what a wimp you really are don't we stud," she said, mocking me. She went over to the wall and loosed the rope allowing me to stand flatfooted once more. God was that a relief. I hadn't cramped up, but almost. Removing the gag first, she appraised me. My butt was black and blue and bleeding in a couple of spots. I'd be a week minimum getting over this one. She came to me and played absently with my cock. "Hmm," she said. "It's coming back to life. Too bad you're such a candy ass, or I might be tempted to suck your cock." She was teasing me, but it was working. Even amidst the searing pain of my ass I was becoming almost hard once again. She untied me, and told me to make myself presentable, and then she left the room. Getting down from the gallows, I pulled up my pants, and went into the adjacent bathroom to clean up my face and hair, the latter of which was soaked with perspiration. My gait was not steady, nor would it be for a while. But, at least I was able to control my urge to bawl. Marissa met me in the lobby. "So, how was it stud? Sorry you asked for it?" she said. "No, no. I needed it, but I won't kid you. If you hadn't gagged me, I would have begged you to stop. I mean it; that was really bad for a while," I said. "Yes, well that's what punishment is supposed to be, stud. Remember that next time you ask for special treatment." "I will," I said. ****** My butt was still plenty sore from my once a month session at the Chateau. But, apart from that I was fine. In fact fine wasn't the word: I felt good, satisfied, and kind of giddy. Marissa really knew how to push my buttons. In any event, that had been Saturday last; this was Monday; I had a job aching butt or not. Class over, I headed for the cafeteria a good little distance across the quad. But wait... I guess this is the point in this write where I should introduce myself. My name is Charlie Wilson. I'm a Ph.D. and an assistant professor of History at Hickory State College. At my current age of thirty-six, I find myself in good shape, and still five-five and one-fifty: same as I was in high school all those years ago. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that is so average it really is actually forgettable. Regardless, I was hungry: the usual result when I don't eat breakfast. "Whatcha thinkin' about Charlie?" said a voice behind me as I strolled along the walkway. "Raine, I didn't see you," I said. Raine Morgan was my counterpart in the English department. "I kinda figured that when you jumped like you did," she said. She was giggling. "Nothing just daydreaming I guess," I said. "I'm heading over to the caf. I'm starving." "Okay, see you later," she said, and she headed off. And, as she did, I saw her. No, not Raine, but the stunner I'd spotted at the Chateau two days before. She was standing in the student line looking to get breakfast. I stared for the briefest of moments, but apparently not brief enough; she caught me looking. She smiled; I looked down and moved to the adjacent side counter where the teaching staff got their grub. I took my tray and meandered among the tables to the far side of the cafeteria. I tried not to look back, but I did anyway. That I was embarrassed would not begin to tell the tale. There was a big black guy sitting with her. Probably an athlete by the look of him: tall, well built, and smiling to beat the band. Well, and well he might, he was with the prettiest female in the place. I wondered if he knew where she worked on weekends. A horrible thought hit me! What if she were telling him that one of the teachers here was a client! I kept my eyes, not too obviously, focused on them. He never looked my way. I guessed she'd not said anything to him. I got up, dabbing at my lips with my napkin, and took my tray to the dump window and pushed it through. She literally bumped into me trying to do the same thing as me. She smiled. "Hi," she said. I nodded and tried not to seem embarrassed. "Hi," I said. Well, it was a short syllable, and I was able to get it out without betraying the turmoil overwhelming my psyche. "You needn't be concerned, doctor Wilson. I'm not outing you. Just relax," she said. I just swallowed—hard. She knew me. I nodded. "Oh, okay," I said. I turned and headed away, not wanting to get into a conversation. No, that's isn't right. I did want to get into a conversation with her, I was just too damn chicken to do so. I had two more morning classes before I would be office bound for the rest of the day. The school was the academic home to eighteen thousand students. I figured that I might not be seeing her again, at least not so up close and personal, as had been the case today; and I was relieved at the thought. Well, that was my thought at the moment. I hadn't exactly thought about her all morning, as I had kinda pushed thoughts of her to the back of my mind. I plied my trade diligently during my 8:30 to 10:00 and 10:30 to noon classes. Lee's strategy versus McClellan had its uses quite apart from its academic ones. Noon found me once again on my way to the cafeteria. As I entered, I immediately saw her and she me. So much for my optimistic musings; she was smack in my path as I headed for the coffee urn. If I turned and ran, she'd undoubtedly deduce the reason why. I decided to just brazen it out. I went right by her table trying to not pay her any note. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the smirk: she knew. My coffee poured, I had a decision to make. I made it. I pulled up in front of her table. "Excuse me miss, may I join you?" I said. She nodded in the affirmative and gestured with her hand for me to take a seat. "Hi, I'm doctor Wilson, but you already know that, don't you," I said. "Hi back atcha doctor, and I'm Megan Troyes; and yes, I know who you are, doctor. And, I know why you seem to be a bit nervous. But as I told you this morning, stop worrying. Everything's cool." "Well, thank you for that. I was, I admit, a little nervous. I mean my position..." "Doctor, you'd be amazed at how many others also have—fantasies," she said. "I guess," I said. "You're a student here then, miss Troyes?" "Yes, part time. The out of state tuition is high. It kinda limits my options," she said. "How far along are you?" I said. "I guess I'm a senior in terms of credits. Hah! twenty-eight years old and still trying to finish my B.A." she said. I smiled. We talked for some minutes. She kept giving me looks that were hard to read. I made a snap decision. "Miss Troyes..." "Call me Megan," she said. I looked at her. "Okay, Megan, you can call me Charles or Charlie," I said. She nodded. "Can I ask you, would you be interested in having dinner with me this weekend?" She started to laugh. "With you? A professor?" she said. "I don't know..." "Oh, okay. I thought I'd take my shot," I said. "But it's okay. I don't want to seem a boor." She studied me for a moment. "Sure, I'll go out with you, professor," she said, finally. "Well—good," said a very surprised me. She was already writing down her particulars. We talked for some little time. I learned she'd essentially been an orphan from about age six. She'd been poor, and that more or less recently, but her part time job at the Chateau paid well enough for her to be getting along now. As she talked I appraised her physical being. Tall, maybe five nine, and slim. Her hair was longish and light brown. Her features were delicate and marked by very large brown eyes. She had a bubble butt and small A-cup breasts—well, one can't always have everything. In a word, she was beautiful. What got me about her, though, was her personality. On weekends she was a strong willed mistress, but here, in the cafeteria, she was almost gentleness incarnate. I was forced to assume that her weekend persona was an act—interesting. Regardless of anything else, I had a date with her. I wondered how it might go. I mean I was really wondering. ****** I was on time and she was ready. Weren't women supposed to always keep their men waiting. Well, I wasn't exactly her man, but I was her date. At any rate, I appreciated her consideration. "You're on time," she said, "a good sign. Let's go." "I'd thought to take her to a fancy dancy foodery and impress the hell out of her. But, she nixed that in favor of fun! We ended up at The inferno. And the owner's name was fittingly Dante Bartolo, go figure. The inferno was a piano bar and grill, with a sweet singing black girl who reminded me of nothing so much as Aretha Franklin when she was young. We ate, we danced, and we talked, a lot. The elephant in the room never got a mention. I found out about her stepfamily as she phrased it. I told her about my brothers who lived back east. She had a hobby, watercolors; she loved to paint. She found out about my career in Education. Like I said, we talked. Then it was time to go home. Walking her to the door, I actually wondered if I would get a goodnight kiss. Gauging the tenor of the evening, I was of a mind to doubt it. But, I was wrong. The kiss was a scorcher. "Goodnight, Charlie. I had a good time. See you at school," she said. I'd been about to ask her for a second date just as she opened the door. But, in the background, I caught sight of the black man that I'd seen her with in the caf. It deflated me. "For sure," I said. "Sleep tight." She looked me askance. ****** I couldn't get her out of my mind. My dreams had never been so kinky. And she wasn't the only one I was dreaming about: her black lover got a lot of mention in there as well. Did I hate him? Probably. Jealousy will do that to a man. At any rate, I made the decision to try and get her out of my mind. I had no intention of competing with another man for the hand of even a woman like Megan, especially a man who was clearly a jock. No indeed, I had my pride. I didn't see her the next week, nor the next. And, no I wasn't hiding from her. I just didn't try and see her. I was sure she was around, and I guess I had changed my meal habits a bit, avoiding the caf where it had all begun. But then something happened that would be the catalyst for a whole lot of other things. It was a Saturday morning, seven freakin' o'clock Saturday morning! The doorbell from Hell rang and I reached for the gun I wish I had. Not finding one, probably a good thing, I got up, slipped into my robe, and headed for the front door. I opened the door, and then my mouth—wide. "What the...!" I started. "Name's Daryl Radcliff," said the tall well-built black man. "Got a minute?" I looked him up and down. "I know you. You're the guy who hangs with Megan Troyes," I said. "Hangs with her? No, not exactly, I'm her regular bull," he said. "Whatever," I said. "What are you doing here?" "She's wondering why you haven't seen fit to talk to her after your date a couple of weeks ago," he said. I gave him a look that should have indicated that he was out of bounds, but he ignored it, he clearly didn't care. Gathering myself, "She wants to see me?" I said. "Yep, that's about the size of it," he said. "But, if you're her guy, why would she want to be seeing me?" I said. "Her guy? Again, not exactly. I'm her bull, like I said. I get to fuck her, often in front of her boy toys; she enjoys watching them squirm. What can I say; it's her thing," he said. I mean you might have figured that; she does work part time at the Chateau. "Hmm, Daryl," I said, "do I look like I'm interested in being one of her boy toys?" I said. "Actually, yes, you do," he said. I stood back and gave him the hardest look I could. We were still standing in the doorway. "Well, forget you, Daryl," I said, exaggerating his name. "Get off my property!" "Whoa, whoa up there cowboy. I wasn't trying to insult you. I'm just here to let you know, that if you might be interested in talking to our girl, that she is more than interested in talking to you with emphasis on the 'more'," he said. "I'm no boy toy," I said. "Yeah, she's darn pretty and all. But, I'm the kind of guy that expects his girlfriends to be one man women, not toy collectors if you get my drift." "Hey, hey, you hardly know the lady if my info's straight. Give her a chance. Who knows, maybe you can turn her into a one man woman or something close to it," he said. I eye'd him. "Close to it? What the hell is that, close to it?" I said. "Hey, just call her. You can always walk if you're really not into the stuff she thinks you're into," he said. He'd said them, the unmagic words; but what he'd said, or more, how he'd said them, was not tinged with arrogance or contempt. He was just delivering a factual message. I was still a little miffed by his boy toy comments, but take those away and the guy wasn't doing anything all that reprehensible. Was I hypocritical enough to deny what he was implying if not actually saying outright? No, no one could accuse me of being a hypocrite. Other things maybe but not that. I nodded. "Okay, I'll call her," I said. He smiled. "Good. Hope to see you again," he said. He stuck out his hand, and we shook. Then, he was gone. I had a lot to think about, consider. How much had she told him? Who was he exactly to her—a bull? Was I willing to be one among many just to have her sometimes, even special sometimes? No, she was mine or not mine, no in between. And, exactly what did she do at the Chateau. It occurred to me that I really didn't know. I'd thought about her all morning. It was almost lunch time. I gave her a call. ****** I was tapping the table top—nervously. She was late: twelve minutes late. I was about to take another sip of my drink when she startled me. "Charlie," she said. Her drink was already poured and sitting on the table in front of me; I'd seen to that: I learned what she drank on our first date. I took the first sip of mine now as she took her seat. "Hello, Megan. You startled me," I said. She smiled. "Yes, I can see that I did. I didn't mean to. Sorry 'bout that, really," she said. "So how have you been?" she said. "Okay," I said. I decided to get to it. "Look, Megan, we had a nice time on our date. And, Daryl, your messenger, got me to thinking. But, I'm not sure..." "Charlie, I know Daryl talked to you. I sent him to talk to you as you say. So, before you go off on me, give me a chance to say my piece. It'll save time. Okay?" she said. I spread my hands in a reluctant 'okay' gesture, and she went on. "Thank you. "The Chateau? I work there part time. I'm not a dominatrix like your Marissa—and yes, she told me about your last visit there: kind of impressive, I mean one hundred!" I said nothing. "She likes you by the way. Anyway, I'm into dominating men and humiliating them and having them worship me: it's a kick, but normally I'm not all into that 'with a whip' stuff . I do it, whip my clients once in a great while, but it's not really my thing. Usually, at the Chateau, I get men that are purely desperate. Men who often are outright begging me to somehow get their wives to come and witness a session with me. I never do it. If they want their wives there; they have to bring them in themselves with no help from me." Charlie and Megan Wilson "Wait, wait, the men you do at the Chateau, they want their wives there?" I said. "Yes, they're mostly wannabe cuckolds. It's a kick to role play with them. And over the last couple of years I've learned to like watching them squirm in their make believe situations. So much so, that, on occasion, not often, I've developed relationships with this or that man, and, well, cuckolded him. "Problem is that in my situation the man never realizes till after the fact, what he's become, and what he is to me. And, so, one hundred percent of the time, they shine me on and leave. Usually it's not real pretty. Lots of name calling, lots of angst, jealousy, ire: well, I'm sure a man as intelligent as you can figure it out," she said. I stared at her, hard. "Let me guess. You want me to be one of your toys. But, in my case, I'd know about it up front. That about it?" I said. "No," she said. "No? Then what?" I said. She settled back in her seat. She smiled at me. She watched me. She was clearly appraising my ability to accept whatever it was that she was about to lay on me. "What would you say to a proposal of marriage?" she said. I could actually feel my brow knitting. "Excuse me?" I said. "I want to marry you," she said. "I've thought about it, and, I think that we could both get what we want and need out of life. And, before you ask, yes, it will be a real marriage, and I would treat you very well." "Marriage? You want to marry me? You'd treat me good? A real marriage? We've been on one date. I've talked to you but one other time besides that one date." I said. I could feel my face flush. I was tingly all over. Oh, and yes, my cock was rock hard. "And you want to marry me." "Yes to all of the above," she said. "Huh? Yes?" I really was too stunned, too confused to react in any meaningful way to what she had just said. "Charlie, I know you need a little time to think things over. How about we meet here tomorrow and you can give me your answer," she said. "Same time okay?" I think I was nodding. She rose, came around and kissed me, patted me on the head, and left. It was surreal. ****** Again, I was early. I guess that had to indicate where my head was at, and don't say the obvious. This time she was on time, right on time. "Hi," I said. She smiled. "How we doing?" she said, as she took the seat closest to me. "Okay. I did do what you suggested. I did think over your proposal." "And?" she said. I got up, came around the table, and got down on my knees. "Megan Troyes, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" I said. She knitted her brow. "Yes, Charlie, I will. But..." "But?" I said. "You asked me..." "You do understand what our respective roles will be, right?" she said. I swallowed. "I think so. I mean knowing what we know; I mean about each other's tastes," I said. "I mean, you'd be the boss, so to speak." "Okay," she said. "Sort of. You'll still be the head of the household in most ways. But, Charlie, You will be, or rather will become—well—my cuckold. You do realize that, right? You really need to realize that." I was quiet for a full minute. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. I'm a little bit worried about what something like that might mean for me, but I guess, I will just have to take a chance," I said. "I can understand your concern, and we'll talk again. And, Charlie, I think it would be good for you to have another, I mean really private talk with Daryl. Would you be okay with that?" she said. "Sure, yes, I guess so," I said. She smiled sweetly at me. "Good," she said. "Charlie, I think we need to go out on a date tomorrow. I mean we are engaged. I think you need to get to know some of what it is that you're actually going to be getting—hmm—at least on rare occasions." she said, and then she laughed out loud. She sounded as giddy as I was feeling. ****** I picked her up at seven. She was flat gorgeous: long tawny locks, perfect makeup, a black sheath with a plunging neckline that ended two inches above the knee. Heels that had to have been five-inchers at least. I was shorter than she was to begin, but with those heels on she was way taller than me. Her only jewels were a string of what had to be real pearls, not even any earrings otherwise. Fuck she was a class act. If I was going to be a cuckold, it was sure as hell her that I wanted to be doing it to me. We headed for the Lucky Star. "Nice place," I said. "How did you find it; I mean it's so out of the way." "Recommended to me, by one of—well—one of my former clients. It's only the second time I've been in here, and the first was over a year ago," she said. "Well, I like it," I said. We were shown our seats and even before the waitress and the water arrived the band started playing and we got up to dance. We danced twice. Both slow, and she melded herself against me. My peter was pressed into her leg, and I got one of those smiles that told me that she knew she had me. "It's pretty clear that you like me," she said, as we floated around the dance floor. "Guilty," I said. "Can't deny it." "No, that wouldn't be too useful given the evidence." Returning to the table the menus were already lying there, and not ten seconds, after being seated, the waitress was there too taking our orders. We ordered drinks, and while we were waiting for them to arrive, we perused the menus. The rest of the early evening was spent drinking eating and dancing. Twice after we had finished eating other gentlemen brazened themselves up enough to come and ask her dance. Both times she rose to go out on the floor with them. What was disconcerting was, not that she danced with them, but that she did it without so much as a glance in my direction let alone asking for my okay. I bit my lip. I mean I was going to complain if she decided to dance with other men? I mean knowing in advance that I would soon be a knowing cuckold? I had to think that this, her dancing with other men, was the first phase of my training. I was soon confirmed in my suspicion when she returned after having danced with the second of the two interlopers. "Not too upset with me?" she said as she took a sip of her wine. I slowly shook my head. I mean what else was I going to do. "No, no, you're the boss," I said, "though I have to admit to being a tiny bit jealous." She continued to hold her stem glass in front of her while tendering me an amused smile. "That's good," she said. "You're allowed to be jealous, just not obviously so. But, that was just a little testing of the waters. I am yours for the rest of the night, no more dancing with strangers. That said, take me out there and let's show these other people how to fox trot. Okay?" She was already rising to go out on the floor. To my credit, I was only a nano-second behind her. We arrived back at her place a little after eleven. "You're staying here tonight, honey bunch. It's Friday; you don't have class tomorrow. Do you?" she said. I smiled. I was pretty sure that it was going to be a really good night. "No, no classes for me on Saturday. A few profs do, but not me, not this term," I said. "Actually you can have me any Friday or Saturday night that you wish." "Goody! We're going to have a lot of fun," she said. She stood back and looked me in the eye. "Take off your clothes. I want to see you au natural," she said. She made no move to undress herself. I hesitated, but began undoing my belt. Soon my pants were pooled at my feet. I began unbuttoning my shirt. She stopped me. "No, your underpants first," she said. "I think it's kind of erotic seeing a man standing with his bottom half exposed and naked while his shirt is still on. I said nothing, but I pushed my Hanes south and stood in front of her. My cock was pointing straight at her and she looked at it appraisingly. "Hmm, not exactly tiny, not large, but not tiny. I'll at least be able to feel you inside of me," she said. I could feel my face flush. "Take off the rest now." I did, and I stood naked and vulnerable in front of her. She crooked a finger at me, turned, and headed for the back of the apartment. I followed like nothing so much as her pet. As I entered her room, she was already kicking off her heels. Unhitching her skirt, it fell to the floor. Soon her snatch and her breasts were bare and her nakedness actually made my cock hurt. "Well, don't just stand there staring, bub, get over her and take me," she said. I didn't have to be told twice. She crawled up on the bed and turned toward me. "Charlie, in almost everything I will, as you said before, be the boss in our relationship. It's what you want and need, and it's what I want and need as well. But, when it comes to doing me, like now, you are the master. You have to master me, and make me yours. It's nature, Charlie, so do me up good. Okay?" "Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled at my use of the term ma'am." Up on the bed, she spread her knees and pushed her butt back at me daring me to take her. I was so ready. I knelt between her legs and rubbed the tip of my penis up and down her labia; she was already becoming slick with her own juices. I pressed four inches of fairly thick rock hard flesh inside of her and slowly began seesawing in and out. She mooed. "Pork me, Charlie. Don't try and be nice to me; sock it to me—hard!" I followed her command. Soon I was banging her so hard that I was actually hurting myself. But, all she did was push back into me trying, I suspect, to get me deeper inside of her. I didn't have the length, but what I did have was enthusiasm and something, what, rage! I wanted to satisfy her in the worst way. I'd never wanted anything so badly in my life. I needed her to like, no, love doing it with me. I had to get her off, somehow! I felt her stiffen; she'd made it! I knew it. She'd made it. I gushed inside of her painting the walls of her vagina with what I thought a sea of cum. I began to shrink from her. I fell forward onto her back trying to catch my breath. I rolled off of her and lay exhausted on the coverlet. She lay face down. Her breathing was almost regular. We stayed quiet, lost in our own thoughts for a long moment. "That was good, Charlie. I almost made it. Just a little more, and I would have been over the top," she said. Her words deflated me. I was sure she'd made it, but I'd been wrong, maybe half a minute short of long enough. I wanted to cry. I'd given it everything I'd had, and I couldn't do it for her. She sensed my disappointment. She rolled onto her side and looked at me. "You did fine, Charlie. I'm going to see to your training so that, when I let you, you can do me good. Okay?" she said. I looked her askance. "Huh?" I said. "Your training, I'm..." "No, no, I mean the other thing you said. You know, 'when you'd let me'," I said. She frowned. "Charlie, once you are a cuckold, you will only get off on rare occasions and be able to fuck me even less. It is the lot of the cuckold, I'm afraid," she said. "Charlie, it's the way it has to be. I thought you knew that. But, if you can't do it, maybe now is the time to find out. I mean before we're married. No pressure, Charlie, but you need to know your place." I knew she was right. I had known that, but hearing it made a deal of difference. "How about before we're married," I said. Now, she smiled. "You can have me as much as you want, Charlie, until I cuckold you. From now on until, well, until after our honeymoon at least. Okay?" she said. "I expect to be very well fucked in these next couple of months. Think you can accommodate me?" she said. I was breathing hard, but not from exhaustion, from excitement. "Watch me," I said. I flipped her over on her back and took her rudely, animal-like. She howled, but she was smiling broadly while she did it. ****** "I hear you weren't half bad," said Daryl Radcliff. I shrugged. "She said I didn't get her off. I guess, I really am not all that," I said. He laughed. I frowned; he didn't have to laugh at me. He apparently realized he'd stung me a little. "Well, you'll be encouraged to know that I don't get her off every time either," he said. "I mean not with my dick, maybe half the time if I'm lucky. But, I never let her down. My mouth finishes the job for me when I come up a little short," he said. "Yeah, well whatever," I said. "So what's going on? She said, no encouraged me, to talk to you." "Yes, I'm aware. She wanted me to kinda give you a pep talk: You know a little perspective of what life might be like for you after you guys get hitched," he said. "I already know all of that. Sex rarely, humiliation standard: that about it," I said. "Hmm, kinda yes and kinda no," he said. "Huh?" "You'll more than likely have more than enough sex: the tantalizing variety if you get my drift. You'll just not be getting a lot of time inside of her with your cock. As for the humiliation thing That'll depend. There'll be some of that depending on how you react to being seen by others—the bulls. If what they say and do doesn't bother you all that much, then you won't actually experience all that much humiliation. What you will feel, and this is the point at least to some degree of the whole cuckold scene, is jealousy. You will be all but eaten alive by jealousy. And, that, my friend, is what she, our Megan, gets off on. She will do her level best to drive you to but one very short inch from insanity and laugh at you while you squirm and cry and beg for some small show of favor. It's what drove her other relationships into the ground. "I will say, that I think she intends to do things a little differently with you. And, I don't think she even knows herself how she's going to work things out with you. But, I do know that she wants it to be a permanent thing. She does not want or need any more of what she's so far had, and she will do whatever she needs to, to ensure that such does not become the case." "I've never been all that much into the cuckolding thing. Truth is, I've had almost no experience in it at all. I've mostly..." I started. "Yes, I know, been into the discipline stuff," he said. " For her part Megan hasn't been much into that except at the request of her cucks. Really, she has never to my knowledge shown much personal interest in it at all. You'll get your bottom toasted pretty good, I'm sure, somewhere along the line; but a full blown lifestyle is likely not in the cards." I nodded. "I see," I said. "It is kinda what she's said to me in so many words." His turn to nod. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you've got a heck of a good thing going on a number of levels," he said. "Just don't let her drive you completely over the top. She's a wonderful woman and a superior piece of ass, but she's still capable of doing things wrong, going too far: well, you get the picture. She won't mean to, but it will happen probably more than once. When it does, just back off and go make yourself a stiff drink and wait for her to be regretful; that'll actually be a good thing for you if what I know about her holds true." "How so?" I said. "You'll get to fuck her. It's how she pays for her little mistakes without taking any particular responsibility for them. Women, most women, and our woman in particular, are not big on apologies. But, she and they are big on making it up to us poor suffering males," he said. I smiled. "Okay," I said. "I get it." ****** The canopy protected us from the dazzling brightness of the sun. The lay minister held a book, no not that book, but one that she, the reverend Sheila Brooks, read from. "And do you Charles take for your wife Megan, to love, honor, and obey as long as you both shall live," she said. "I do," I said. "And do you Megan, take Charles for your husband to love, honor, and guide as long as you both shall live?" "I do," she said. "Then by the power invested in me by the state, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss each other." And just like that I, we, were married and committed to each other. The minister, Sheila, was a close friend of Megan's. She congratulated us, and we all, including the best man, Daryl, and the maid of honor, Marissa, led the way to the reception room where the thirty-nine guests and ourselves were to celebrate. The party lasted into the evening. There was dancing and good food and lots of joking around. Sheila pulled me off to the side for a brief word. "Charlie, the woman truly loves you. You need to get your head around that and never doubt it. You do that, and the two of you will be fine," said Sheila. "Thanks, Sheila, I appreciate your concern and your support. I think we'll be fine. I don't anticipate any problems," I said. "Yes, and there needn't be any," she said. "The only possible fly in the ointment might be Megan's penchant for sometimes choosing poorly when selecting, well, you know. Remember you didn't marry any of her future bulls. You married Megan. If you keep that in mind, and remember that those men, all of them, are merely a collection of blips on the radar screen of life; well, then, you'll be fine." "Okay, and thanks again. I do appreciate your words," I said. The next two weeks were wonderful. The warm Mexican sun was fantastic. Sun and sand, and Megan in a bikini; god she was beautiful. And we fucked. We fucked a hundred times, or so it seemed. And then it was the last day, and I was scared. I felt like doctor Faustus at the end of his twenty year deal with the devil. She understood and tried to console me; she was only partially successful. "It's your fate, Charlie. You have to man up now and accept your fate. And, not to worry, you will still be my husband and no other. I will still love only you and no other, and those are absolutes. But, that said, now it's my turn to get what I need out of our life together. It's the reason I wanted to marry you, Charlie, because I knew you could loved me enough to give me what I need. Anyway, enough said about that. "Our wedding vows are now going to be our contract with each other. We will both love and honor each other. But, you will now have to be obeying me and I will have to be guiding you. Okay, my man?" she said. I slowly nodded my submission to her. She smiled benevolently at me. I just had to hope it wouldn't be too long before I would be able to have her again. I needed her. I needed her bad. There was not the slightest shadow of a doubt that I always would. ****** "Tonight's the night, Charlie?" she said. I didn't have to ask her what she meant. I just nodded. "I need to have you out of the house by 6:00PM. Okay?" she said. "Okay. But, don't you—didn't you..." I started. "Not this first time, Charlie. You will be here to watch and witness your cuckolding a lot, but this first time I need to be able to set things up with my bull. I will say that you'll get a full report in the morning—and—well a little something extra to eat if you get my drift, Charlie," she said. "Okay," I said. I was actually looking forward to the next morning. "So, am I supposed to stay away all night?" "Yes. Will that be okay? I mean this is your, our, home. I won't order you to not sleep in your own bed; but it would be more convenient overall if you came back say for breakfast. Would that be all right. Oh, and one more thing. No bull will ever sleep in our bed. We will be using the guest room only." "Okay. It's okay, I'll just get a room for the night. And, yes, I will be back for breakfast. Can I ask? Will he still be here when I get home?" I said. "Probably not. He has to work. But, if he is, just be polite and forget that anything happened. He will be getting the same instructions. I know this is going to be hard for you in the beginning. I intend to soften the experience as much as I can. That's why I am asking you to not be there the first time; it's best. So anyway..." Charlie and Megan Wilson "Yes, yes, okay. No problem. And, I appreciate your kindness," I said. She smiled "Kindness is going to be my middle name," she said. "Well, except for Saturday mornings." I looked her askance. "Huh?" "I've done some talking, with Marissa. She's clued me about you and her. So, every Saturday morning, at a set time, say 10:00AM, I'm going to spank you. And, I mean good and proper. Think you can handle that, stud?" she said. "I mean once a week instead of once a month?" She was smirking. I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I think so. I'll try," I said. ****** I watched her apply her makeup. She looked so beautiful. Shoulder length, curly brown hair. Porcelain complexion, dark eyes, ruby lips, no jewelry except for her pearl earrings and matching necklace. The dress she wore was a dark purple, short, and featured a plunging neckline. She wore no bra and only the skimpiest of panties. Her heels were three inchers also black. Her slim legs were bare. Her bull would not only be pleased he'd likely become as pussywhipped as I was and that in short order. I was fully dressed, but on my knees watching her; she'd mandated that I be that way until she was ready for her visitor. I was being trained, as she said, and that just a little at a time. "You're beautiful, honey," I said. She flashed me a smile of appreciation. "And you're wonderful to be doing this for me," she said. "And, don't you worry, you will not regret it. You can bank that." I tried to smile, but my heart was in my throat. I wasn't yet quite overwhelmed by jealousy, but close. Finished, she leaned back against her vanity, her arms dangling at her sides. She looked, lovingly, at me. "You going to be okay?" she said. "Yes. Yes, I'll be fine. Anything for you," I said. She looked deeply into my eyes, my soul. "I am so glad I found you," she said. "I did the right thing marrying you. I aim to make you one happy fella over time, depend on it." Just then the doorbell rang. We both looked doorward. "Come on, dear, on your feet. We need to go down and meet him together." I answered the door and she stood behind me a few feet to my right. "Hi, I'm Michael," said the well-dressed black man. "Hi, I'm Charlie, this is my wife..." I started. "Yes, we've met. Hello again, Megan," he said. "Please, come in," I said. "Michael," said Megan, "I wanted my husband meet the man who was going to help me cuckold him. And, of course you to meet him too. "Michael is going to fuck me tonight, dear, like we planned. Tell him it's all right with you, please," she said. "Michael it's fine with me that you fuck my wife and make me her cuckold," I said. "And mine," he said. "Yes, of course," I said. "And your cuckold too." "You can go now, dear, I will see you in the morning. Okay?" she said. "Yes, ma'am. In the morning. Uh—9:00AM?" "That will be fine, dear. Goodbye." She said this last while easing me out the door by the elbow. The door closed behind me, and I was alone and a little afraid. She'd been right not to ask me to stay and witness my cuckolding, my humiliation. I needed to get away, and I did, to The Inferno. The Inferno had become our favorite watering hole. It was a little pricey, but, this was a special occasion. ****** The Motel 7 on Green St. was only a few miles from the house where Michael was doing my wife. I have to admit to shedding some tears. But they were tears of angst not loss or pain. I was fast discovering that being a cuckold meant worrying endlessly about how one would measure up when compared to one's wife's bulls. I didn't get much sleep, but I did finally drift off sometimes in the wee smalls. The sun woke me. It was almost 7:00AM. I showered, dressed, and went next door for a cup of coffee. I read the newspaper and killed time until it was time for me to go home. She'd told me that we'd have breakfast together, so I didn't eat. I was five minutes early. Parking, I sat in my car for a few minutes getting my mental act together. Getting out of my car I made my way into the house. I could hear her humming in the kitchen. She seemed to be in a light hearted mood. She was mixing what looked like pancake batter as I came into the kitchen. "Hi," I said. "Hi, dear," she said, presenting me with her cheek to kiss. "I haven't brushed my teeth yet, so my breath isn't the best." "Hmm, I don't care," I said. "I turned her around and kissed her hungrily." She did taste kinda funny. She smiled. "He's still in me," she said. "We'll talk after we eat. And, I have a little reward for you because you are such a good guy." "Really?" It was Saturday morning. I wondered if it had anything to do with our 10:00AM appointment. I didn't say anything. Quite frankly, I was hoping she'd forgotten about it. I was just too wound up to be bent over and spanked." "It'll have to be after your spanking though. Hope you're ready for that. Anyway, it's time for us to eat." She hadn't forgotten. Well, I guess I knew she hadn't." As we ate, she told me a little of her experience of the previous evening. "He was pretty good. I'll have him back again at some point. He took my butt too. I let him because he had length but wasn't all that thick. I've pretty much shrunken back to normal size." I guess that was important. I was hoping she meant so that I could have her and feel the walls of her pussy. It was some half hour later, the dishes done, I was wiping my hands on a small kitchen towel. She looked at me and smirked. "Honey, please go into the den and take off your pants, okay," she said. "you can leave your shirt and socks on, but I need you butt naked." "Okay," I said. I think my face was red because I could feel it flush. It would be my first spanking from her. I didn't know, but I had to think it was going to be something to remember. She'd already placed a heavy oaken chair, I'd not seen before, in the center of the room. I wondered when she purchased it, but in point of fact it didn't really matter. The why was the only thing that mattered. And that why was that it was obviously purchased to facilitate my punishments. There were some strips of quarter inch rope laid across the seat. And, a roll of duct tape as well. I didn't have to guess anymore; it was gonna be bad for me, at least for a little while, real bad. I tried to focus. I took my pants off and just stood there waiting for her. She was a couple of minutes in coming, and when she did, she was topless. Her breasts, C-cups, hung down slightly and seemed to shake a little as she moved. "Good, you're ready," she said. She retrieved a strip of the rope and came to me. "Hands behind your back," she said. I did as she told me and felt her bind my wrists very tightly. Then, with the long end of the rope dangling floorward, she took it and raised my arms high up on my back while wrapping the end a couple of times around my neck. There was no way I was going to be able to protect my butt with my hands. Working quickly she secured my ankles the same way leaving about a six-inch strip between them so I could hobble around a little, or so I surmised, as she might command. Next came the duct tape. "Sorry about the duct tape, dear, but we can't have you scaring the neighbors with your screams," she said. "Marissa said you can be pretty vocal sometimes." "It's okay," I said. "She short shanked anything else I might have said by wrapping the tape tightly around my entire head effectively cutting off communication between us. "Kneel up on the chair," she said, "and bend forward so that you neck is over the back of it." It was a small challenge for me to do it, but I managed. She took the last of the dangling rope that she'd looped around my neck and tied it to the struts on the bottom of the chair. I was going absolutely nowhere. "I'm going to give you fifty hard ones, dear. That will be enough for this first time. And, it will give me some idea of what your tolerance is. I don't want to injury you unduly. But, I do want this to be memorable spanking. I mean it is your first spanking at my hands." I heard her moving around behind me. Walking around the chair so that I could see her, she now had two thin whippy switches, probably dowels, wrapped in black electrical tape. My eyes got big; I could feel them. It was going to sting real bad. She stepped behind me. She waited. It was so quiet. The tension was killing me. All of a sudden I was seeing stars. The flesh slashing stroke to my buttocks was awful. Then there was another, and another, then another. She waited. I was squirming and snorting and trying my best to take a deep breath, but I couldn't. It was maybe another minute before she resumed. The tears were already pouring from my eyes. She had to have seen them. I was doing my best to move my buttocks to avoid the lash, but it was no use; she was literally burning my butt and the backs of my thighs horribly with each swat. It was almost a half an hour later before it was over. I'd been counting, but I only accounted for forty-three spanks; Still, I might have lost the correct count somewhere along the line. God knew it was hard for me to concentrate while she was doing me. She pulled a folding chair around in front of me and sat. She stared at me, a slight smile playing across her face. She was so beautiful. Her naked breasts and face were shiny with a slight sheen of her perspiration. My butt was on fire, but the only thing that mattered to me was that I wanted to suckle on her breasts, her nipples, lick her aureoles. God how I wanted to! She rose and came to me. She stripped the duct tape from me and I drew a desperately needed lung full of air gasping as I did so. Gasping that is between sobs. "I'm going to untie you know, Charlie. And, when I do I want you to take the rest of your clothes off. It's time for the good stuff now," she said. She untied me and led me by my cock into the bedroom. "I haven't bathed since last night and I have a bunch of Michael's spunk still inside of my pussy and ass. You get to clean me out with your tongue. And, if you do a good job this first time; I will let you have me—in all of my holes. When I reward a man; I reward him big time. To say the least, my inhibitions whatever they might have been a minute before disappeared immediately! I fell to my knees in front of her and pulled her pants down. She was laughing so hard I think her sides were beginning to hurt. I pulled her over to the bed and laid her down across it on her back. I pushed her legs apart and there it was: matted hair, dried spunk, on her inner thighs, and a gooey mess oozing from between her labia. I made a face and dove in. it wasn't so bad. And, all I could think of was my reward. I worked on her for some long minutes when she began to squirt. I just kept at it until she said to stop. Then, she rolled over on her stomach and once again spread her legs wide. There it was her anus. She sure as heck hadn't cleaned herself. There was some of the crusted semen residue and some of her own brown stuff dried in her crack. I licked and sucked and ate her out enthusiastically. Overall, I had worked on her orally, front and back, for maybe half an hour. She experienced or so I thought, hoped, at least three major orgasmic events. Finally my woman pulled herself up, and spread her knees wide, and waited for me. "Take me from behind, my husband, please. And don't waste any time doing it." I did what she said, and I think she made it once again. I rolled over and off of her and I fell into a semi-exhausted state beside her. She took a few desperate breaths, swung around on top of me, and took me in her mouth. It took some little while, but she got me hard once again. "Now, my ass, big boy, take my ass like Michael did." She lay flat on the bed now, legs once again splayed wide and waited for me to assault her. Looking at her little hole, I had the thought that she might need some lubrication. "Honey, KY..." I started. "On the night stand over there," she said. ****** That first night, the night she first cuckolded me was good; I hadn't been there; I knew what was going on, and she didn't rub my nose in it the next day. She'd been right to run me off and make me come back the next morning. What I hadn't seen could not be the stuff of my dreams and worries. No, it was very good. The morning after sex was fantastic. I hadn't expected it, and it was a wonderful gift to me. She had said that my having her would be a rare thing. Well, if that was her idea of rare, I was not going to have a problem going along with it. But, alas, the reality was that allowing me to have her was about to indeed become truly rare. Worse, even being allowed relief was about to become a rare thing. It was a week and half later before she had another man, and we had not had sex during that entire time. I managed to survive sexually by employing my good right hand, often. She had caught me doing it twice and hadn't said anything to me, but her look had been one of undeniable disapproval. At any rate, back to tonight and my current cuckolding. His name was Woodrow, Albert Woodrow. He was youngish, early twenties. He was tall, and he was hung, so Megan had assured me; I didn't ask how she knew. The smirk on his face when she introduced him to me was more than bothersome. But, I bit my lip and endured it. It was part of the scene to be humiliated by her bulls and I knew it. So long as it didn't reach destructive levels—destructive to my marriage to Megan, I could handle it. "Charlie, I want you to be in the room with us tonight," said Megan. "Would that be okay with you?" "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Good, go on up disrobe and stand by your chair. Okay?" I nodded and headed off. I was standing naked and vulnerable when they came. They were still dressed, but her makeup was smeared and her hair a bit askew. ****** He looked me up and down; the smirk was pure derision. Megan noticed. "Don't be mean, Albert it's what he's got, and it's enough for me. He's my little man and I love him," she said. He words would have made me feel better except for the little man comment; hence, it didn't." "Yeah, right," he said. They turned their attention away from me and back to each other. The kissing and the feeling up was kind of erotic. My pole was at attention for sure. Soon they broke apart and started to watch each other undress. He kept glancing at my four-inch dick and I knew exactly what he was thinking. All were soon naked and he turned her around to face me and he wrapped his arms around her from behind and let his hands roam over her breasts, belly, muff and finally her slit. Her head was thrown back over his shoulder and her eyes were closed. He mouthed the words I really didn't need to hear. "There is no way wimpy that you could possibly be satisfying this fine woman. Not with that." he was nodding toward my little man." She stiffened, straightened, and gave him a look that warned him he was going too far. He backed off and led her to the bed. She stopped just before letting him push her down on it and turned to face me. "You can sit down now, baby, but don't play with yourself. It's not allowed tonight," she said. I swallowed and sat. And, yes, wimp that I realized that I was, I was beginning to cry. He rolled her over and forced her up on her knees, butt high, legs splayed wide. I saw his eight inch tool push into her. I swallowed yet again. "Like watching me do your wifey sissy boy," he said. My humiliation was complete. But, I kept my mouth shut. "I asked you a question," he said. "Shut up Albert; you can be replaced," said Megan. "I've told you once already. I mean it." "Okay, okay, I was just funnin'," he said. Suddenly his face went gray as he neared a climax that I think surprised him. He began to fuck her furiously. He stiffened. Spit dribbled from the side of his mouth. I saw Megan's eyes bulge out as he took her. Her rasping breath signaled her orgasm and he drilled her like a madman. Finally they collapsed. Onto the bed, each beside the other. He rolled on his side and looked at me and smiled. "Are you crying little man. Well, don't, I'll give you lessons if you like. You know so that you can please this woman." "Get out, Albert, and don't come back. My bulls do not insult or belittle my husband," said Megan. "Yeah, well with a puny dick like his, a little belittling would seem to be in order," he said. He dressed and he was gone. Megan beckoned me. "Come on my husband, time for your sloppy seconds. Yes, I'm letting you have me. I wasn't going to, but that asshole made it necessary. In a way you owe him, I guess," she said. I moved to the bed and crawled onto it looming above her. Do I have to eat you first? I said. "No, his cum is unworthy of you. Just screw me as best you can with your little weeny," she said. She smiled. My cock was so hard it hurt. She spread her legs as wide as she could and I lowered myself and entered her. I could hardly feel the walls of her pussy, but I did my best. I rammed myself inside of her like what seemed a hundred times before I finally erupted. "Jesus, honey, you almost made me cum. Jesus, and with that little tool of yours too. Wow!" she said. I felt kind of good. I guess. But, almost wasn't good enough. Not close. Over the next weeks and months she brought home a succession of bulls. One of them, some guy named Arthur, got into her head. They were lying on the bed after their third fuck. Megan had tied my hands behind my back and lashed my ankles to the chair's legs to keep me from interfering: something I'd tried to do the time before because the bull that time had been so insulting to me that I couldn't take it. I'd gotten up, grabbed him by the hair and hauled him off of her; after which he'd beaten the hell out of me. Hence, my bonds. Megan had consoled me and nursed me back to full consciousness, and then made the decision that from then on that I'd be bound up tight to prevent me from physically trying to take on these guys, all of who were uniformly large and young. We were eating breakfast and she was humming some tune I didn't recognize. "Honey, I was talking to Daryl the other day," she said. I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is he still around?" I said. "You haven't mentioned him in a while." "No, he's been out of town, but he got in the day before yesterday. He had an idea. I think it's a good one. He said the reason you are having some problems with my bulls is because you're not horny enough to take it. You need to be hornier is what he said," said Megan. "I'm horny. I am," I said. "Not enough, Charlie. Not enough to welcome the humiliation and jealousy that makes this kind of relationship go. You need to be climbing the walls. I blame myself to some extent. But..." "But?" I said. "Well, Daryl thinks that you are beating your meat before we have our little events," she said. "Are you, Charlie? Are you beating your meat without permission?" "Well, maybe sometimes," I said. She knew I was lying. "Charlie?" she said. "Okay, yes. I need it to not go crazy with lust for you," I said. She nodded knowingly. "Hmm, well, I'm afraid I'll have to do something about that, Charlie; I need you to be half crazy with lust for me. Charlie, I'm going to lock up your cock, so you can't masturbate. It'll be a little tough on you in the beginning, but you will be more than horny when you need to be from now on. Okay, Charlie?" she said. "And there are one or two other things that Daryl suggested that I'm considering that will heighten the experience, and that for the both of us." I swallowed. I nodded my acceptance. She owned me. I was her cuckold and completely so. "Okay then. I need you to stand up and drop your pants and underpants," she said. "Oh, and leave your t-shirt on. I did as she instructed. She'd left me standing next to the dinette table while she disappeared into the service porch. She came back in minutes carrying a small box. She set it on the table and went to the broom closet and came back with something I knew only too well: her switch. It was the one she used to spank me with on Saturday mornings. We were four days gone since my last hiding. I was still pretty damn sore. I really didn't want it again, not this soon. Charlie and Megan Wilson "Honey, are you going to..." I started. "Just enough to make your penis shrink. Okay. I need to fit the cage on your penis, and I'm afraid you'll be too hard for that to happen; hence, a little encouragement with the switch." I swallowed, and I mean hard. That thin little piece of rattan could do a number on a rhinoceros. "See what I mean," she said, looking down at my swollen member. "You're erect!" "But, I could..." I started to say jackoff, but she wasn't having any. "Bend over the table my little man," she said. "Grab the edges and hold on tight." I did what she said and gritted my teeth so as to minimize the pain. It wouldn't, of course, minimize anything, but the psychological benefit was undeniable. The first swat was stunning. It drove the air from my lungs like a punch from a heavyweight boxer. Three stripes later my buns were on fire; I was choking and coughing on my own spit. The fifth one was actually cruel: I almost fainted; but it was the last one. I was crying; I couldn't help it. "Straighten up, Charlie. And turn around. She was in the process of moving a chair for her to sit on while she put the cage on me. I found myself standing not more than twelve inches from her. She slipped the small silvery tube over my cock and then attached that to two rings, also silver, with which she encircled my balls. A small padlock conjoined the assembly completing my sexual imprisonment. I was frightened. She tugged on the tube and drew a cry of pain from me. There would be no getting out of my cage without the key. "Honey?" I said. "You'll be let out on occasion. I don't want you to go crazy either. But, I will be the one dictating the when," she said. "Does it feel okay? I don't want you to actually be hurting from it. It's supposed to be fairly comfortable, at least that's what the advertisement said." "It's okay, I guess. But, honey, I'm scared. I've never been denied like this. I just don't know if I can make it for any length of time," I said. She smiled. "Exactly. I need you to be actually desperate on nights when I have a visitor. Okay?" she said. It was a week later when Daryl reappeared. I hadn't seen him in a while. It was actually a good thing for me. He was one bull that didn't oppress me. I hoped he'd be staying awhile. It'd be a major improvement on the losers Megan and I had been dealing with for the past while. We visited and talked about nothing and everything. It was nice. "So, I hear she locked you up," he said. We were on the patio. Megan had gone back inside to get some iced tea for us. "Yes. It's supposed to keep me ready for her, sessions," I said. "She said it was actually your idea." "Hmm, yes, among other things. A cuckold has to be ready for anything; I mean in terms of the way he might be treated by this or that bull. Megan told me you actually got into it with one of them, some big guy?" said Daryl. "Yes. It was not good. He just went way too far deriding me, so I had to do something," I said. "Like I say, me going at him like I did was not good; I mean really not good! Now, she makes sure I can't argue too much with them, the bulls." He nodded his complete understanding. "Here she comes," I said. "You boys good?" she said, setting the tray of teas down on the umbrella covered table. "Yes, more or less getting reacquainted," said Daryl. "True," I said. We gabbed for some little time; then, I had to beg off. "You guys visit for a while. I have to get some yard work done," I said. "Life isn't just sex only." The two of them laughed, and I headed off. I did the front yard first; it's always the easiest. When I did finally get to the backyard they'd gone inside. I knew it wasn't for sex, or I would have been invited. I smiled; well, the guy was as close to a good friend that the two of us had among those who knew our propensities. I was pulling weeds outside of the kitchen window, and I heard them talking. "So how are you two getting along then, really," said Daryl. I could actually hear her sigh. "Okay," she said. But, there was no enthusiasm in her statement. "Really? I hear a but in there someplace," he said. "Yes, well, I got what I paid for. He's a wimp right enough. I mean a total big assed, down and dirty, you better believe it candyass," she said. "But, he's virtually worthless in bed. And, really there isn't even any 'virtually' in the mix either if it comes to that. He's not even trainable; I've tried. I mean I do have my bulls; but it would be nice if I could get it on with my husband once in a great while and not come away feeling cheated. After the last experience we had with a bull, kind of a bad one: the way he kept downing Charlie; I had to send the guy on his way, and let Charlie have me as kind of a sop for putting up with the asshole as long as he did. I even faked a semi-orgasm for him; you know, to make him feel a little less down." "Well, if you feel that way, why do you stay with him? I mean there's the standard of living and everything he brings to the table; but, is that enough for you to stay with him?" said Daryl. There was that sigh again. "Yes, I guess so. He's all right when it comes to most things, but apart from his serious lack of bedroom skills; he's boring. Jesus is my husband boring. I mean he's a college professor and everything, but you'd think he'd care about something other than that stuff he's always plying his students with." "Boy oh boy do I hear a disaster coming if you feel this strongly now," said Daryl. I was sick. I had to get out of there. This wasn't a scene we were playing; this was how she really felt about me, about us. She didn't know it yet, but we were already done, she and I. I snuck into the house and upstairs. I was able to pack enough stuff to carry me for a while. I'd have her served as soon as I could. I wasn't one for hanging on to that which was already gone. I'd miss her on some level but my love for her was dead. I was almost out the door when she caught me. "Charlie?" she said. She eye'd me suspiciously. Daryl was still in the kitchen doing something; I could hear him. "I won't be boring you anymore, Megan. I'll put everything in motion. Goodbye," I turned to go, but she grabbed my arm. "Oh my god, you heard us talking didn't you!" she said. I just looked at her without responding. "Jesus, how that must have stung you; I mean what I said." "It's okay. I know I'm not much. We had a run, a fantasy, but I guess like all fantasies, it was never really real," I said. "I mean when it gets to the point where it's actually boring; well, it's time to change up." "Charlie, I don't know what to say. It was never you; it was me. If you'd be willing to stay, well, I'd be willing to try and make it up to you," she said. "I'm sure you would, Megan. But, making it up to me isn't what this is about. What it's about is your belief that I can never be any good; which of course equates with me not ever being able to make you happy. Megan, I'm not willing to be just another sucker who pays the bills and occasionally gets to have his cock sucked. I really really am not into mercy sex. If I'm as worthless as you say; well, that pretty much says it all." "Okay, Charlie. I just hope you and I don't become enemies over this. I do like you, really," she said. I snickered. "Not love? I guess you never did, and, I guess you never could. Kinda puts the boff on this relationship, doesn't it, I mean any relationship." I turned and walked out. I heard Daryl call to her from the kitchen, just as the door closed behind me. ****** MEGAN: I watched him walk out. I was torn. I really did like the guy and hated to lose him, and no it wasn't all about his income or social contacts or any of that. It was, well, it was complicated. I needed a husband who was, well, wimpy. I needed a man who adored me and who understood my needs. I needed a man, yes, who could afford me. And, Charlie fit all those criteria to a T. What I did not need Charlie for was sex. I could have all I wanted from men who knew what they were doing. Charlie, when it came to sex, was like the man, or boy, with two left feet on the dance floor. But, in Charlie's case it was two left feet and a sprained ankle. He liked the one particular sexual niche, the spankings and the humiliation; I could give him that, and gladly; but, he was all but incapable of reciprocating. He just didn't have it in him. What I'd said to Daryl, and it was for his ears only, was true. But, Charlie had heard me. And, now he hated me. Get him back? That would be an almost hopeless task. Still, men were strange creatures. Stranger than we women in spite of all of the mythology to the contrary. There was always the very real hope that after a time crying in his beer and basking in his misery, that he would call or show up on my doorstep hat in hand. If he did, I would be very careful of his feelings and his pride and for a time at least, he would be one pampered sexual animal. Well at any rate, hope springs eternal. ****** I sat there on the barstool crying in my beer, or so the saying goes. She undoubtedly thought that I would be coming back before my shoes would need polishing. Well, she was going to be majorly disappointed. If I meant so little to her, as apparently was the case, I wasn't going to stick around just to be used. Stupid I no doubt was, but I sure as hell wasn't that stupid. "Last call guy. If you want anything..." said the barkeep. I looked over toward the cash register where the LCD display showed it to be almost 2:00AM. I was walking so I wasn't in any danger of getting busted. Well, I hoped that that would be the case. It'd been a bit over two months since I walked out. I'd gotten no calls from her, not even an email telling me to get lost or hurry up and die or any of it; let alone asking me to come back. So, that settled it as far as I was concerned. It was clear that she really didn't give a damn whether I lived or died. I'd quite clearly outlived my usefulness. I smirked, only to myself, but it was a meaningful smirk. Mister micro-dick loser, me, was finally getting on with things. I kinda felt good about that, in a loser sort of way. As I trudged home, I looked up at the sign looming in front of me. The Happy Traveler Motor Lodge. I saw a couple, a man, fiftyish and a young woman, maybe old enough to drink if she had a note from her mother, keying a door to one of the rooms off the courtyard. I almost wished it was me. I damn sure needed a little relief. I hadn't gone back even to see Marissa: I was afraid I would run into my wife. I figured that she would at the least have gone back there if only to pay the bills since I wasn't paying them anymore. I was horny as hell. ****** "I don't know Daryl. I'm what, lonely. I need the guy around. I, I think that I love him," she said. "Yuh know, I don't think I really did at first. But, living with him, realizing how hard he tried to please me, more, realizing how hard he tried to understand me, not an easy deal; well, the guy's a treasure. I have to get him back if I can." "Then go after him. You can get him back. Hell, you can get any man you want to do anything you want him to," he said. "Hah! I could only hope to wish that you knew what you were talking about, Daryl," she said. "Go see him. He's still working at the college. He won't be hard to find. Catch him at lunch or something. You can do it," he said. She nodded. "Yes. You're right. I can do that. I just hope he'll sit still long enough for me to make my pitch. He was pretty non-communicative when he cut out on me. Frankly, I really thought he'd be back. In my heart of hearts I was sure he was pussywhipped enough to beg me. But clearly, I hurt him bad enough to actually ruin what we had, what I thought we had," she said. "Like I said, stop yakking about it, and just go get him," said Daryl. "Okay. I will. I'll try," I said. "Good," said, Daryl. ****** I was in the instructors' line waiting to get my coffee and sweet role," when I saw her, and she did look good; she was talking to professor Macklin, who I knew had been her pre-Calc teacher a couple of semesters back; she'd mentioned him. I wondered if she was putting a move on him, or if she were here for what I was pretty sure was the other possible reason: to see me. Did I want to talk to her? Of course I did. I needed to talk to her, but I also knew where I really stood with her. As far as she was concerned I was nothing more than a meal ticket. Coffee and roll secured I headed for the back of the caf hoping not to be seen. But, of course, deep down, I knew that that was a foolish hope. She loomed over my shoulder; I sensed her more than saw her. "Whaddya want Megan? This is where I work. I really don't need any of this today," I said. I was being, for me, surprisingly strong. "Hi Charlie. I was here to get some stuff from records. And..." she started. "What are you really here for, Megan?" I said. I knew, and she knew I knew, that there was damn little chance that she was there to get records; and, even if such were true, why would she make a stop in the caf where she knew I'd be grabbing my morning coffee. No, I knew why she was here, and it had nothing to do with records. "Okay, it's true, Charlie, I'm here to see you," she said, wistfully. Well, being right had its upsides, right? "And why would you want to do that knowing as we do what you think of me," I said. "Whew," she said, tendering me a half smile. "Well that's the whole shemoyghan, isn't it" she said. "The answer Charlie is not simple. But, if you can cut me a little slack here, I might be able to sell you on, well, what I think will be a reason for you to come home to me. "Really? You think that something, anything, you can say will undo what I heard that day?" I said. "Yes," she said. "Hmm, you are definitely a glass half-fuller," I said. I was torn. Should I listen to her spiel or get the hell out of dodge. I couldn't deny the two things that took hold of me right at that moment: one, I was curious; and two, she looked like a million bucks! "Okay, I'm curious. Lay it on me, but I warn you; yours is very likely the impossible dream," I said. She nodded and took a seat across from me. "Charlie, first let me say that I am sorry if I hurt you that day," she said. "If you hurt me? Are you serious!" I said, not quite believing my ears. "Okay, that I hurt you," she said. "I did tell it like it was, I mean to Daryl. No, that's not right. I told it like it like I thought it was, at the time." "Okay, so far my heart is still in ruins. So?" I said. "Charlie, you are trainable. I know what I said. But, what I should've said was that you, and that's you not me, were just so busy all of the time that training you was a non-happening. What was true, was that you aren't much of a bed partner, but again; if I had the time to do it right, I know I could train you," she said. "Okay, maybe I could buy that. I am busy all of the time. That's true. And, I have always been a fast learner. Yeah, I can buy that I am trainable. But..." I said. "The stuff about you being boring, right?" she said. "Yes. And, that is something that I do not accept, and will not allow you or anyone else to accuse me of. The things I say, the way I act are those ways that I have long nurtured and prefer to other modalities of behavior. So, yes, you considering me irredeemably boring is a major sticking point for me," I said. "Well, and you're right. It's just that I'm boring too; I mean to someone like you. Doctor Charles Wilson, you are so far beyond me intellectually that you are hard to understand sometimes. You don't talk like other people. But, that's the deal I want to make here. I will do my best to train you in my specialty; and you, well you can maybe train me in the ways that you're an expert in," she said. "Whaddya think." "I think you have come up with a solution with too many holes to be filled. I am not skilled enough in Psychology to get you to where you wouldn't think me boring. So, no, Megan. It won't work," I said. "Goodbye." I rose and walked out. She didn't try to stop me. ****** I was going to miss her. I'd shut her down pretty hard. Our sex, the games, were somehow lost in the conversations we'd had, both on the day of our breakup and the one I had just walked away from. Megan Wilson was history. I got on with my life. I was thinking about finding another dungeon-like place like the one I used to frequent, the one where Marissa worked. Just a place to feed my fetish. Yeah, I knew I had one. I couldn't go back to the old place: too great a chance I'd be running into Megan. I knew if I saw her too often that I would succumb. No, I had to stay away from her at all events. ****** I was at home nursing a manhattan I'd made for myself. It was almost 10:00PM. I remembered the old commercial, "It's Miller Time." Well, I had my own version, "It's Mellow Time." Well, I wasn't much of a beer drinker, too bloating. The doorbell startled me. I went to answer it. "Daryl! What the fuck!" I said, being uncharacteristically crude. But, in my defense, he had to have been the last person in the entire world that I would have expected to see, especially at ten o'clock at night. But here he indeed was, and smiling like he knew something that I was not privy to. "Can I come in?" he said. I stared. "Please." I stood aside indicating that he should come in. Well, I liked the guy. "Don't get comfortable," I said. "I can't think of any reason why you and I should be talking at all let alone anything of length or importance. "I understand," he said. "But actually this, my being here, may be of some interest to you; and I'd add importance as well; but well, you can be the judge of that." I nodded. "You need to rethink your relationship with Megan," he said. "She misses you big time, and before you ask, no, she didn't send me here, and she doesn't know anything about me being here." "Okay, since you've laid out your premise, go ahead extrapolate it," I said. He laughed. "What is that classroom-ese you're talking?" he said. "What do you want, Daryl? I was in the midst of a very nice kick-back evening until you shattered it with that damn doorbell," I said. "To quote the great one: 'She wants you, she needs you, she loves you'," he said. "Really? I mean me? Mister boring, no damn good in bed, pretty much useless in general but good provider: I mean me?" "Yes you," he said. "Look, she was feeling down that day and a little, what, frustrated with herself. She really believes, sometimes that what she thinks and wants is always correct. Fact is she's right maybe half the time. She really didn't mean a word of it the way it came out, and believe me; she 'thinks' she did mean it, and that pseudo truth is killing her. The truth is she doesn't and didn't mean it, and she is going nuts trying to put it back together. That day she just let loose a flurry of feeling without using her head; she does that sometimes: well, she is a woman. You gotta come back and hug her and lead her to an understanding that what you two had and have if worth saving. And I'm not talking about the sex stuff; that's just the icing on the cake. I'm talking about the commitment the two of you have toward each other as people and partners." "And, you expect me to believe that this isn't just another ploy to get me to go back and be the bill payer," I said. "Look, Charlie, when you hug her and kiss her; I mean if you go back, don't you think that a smart guy like you will be able to tell if she's scamming you? She's a good actress, I'll vouch for that, but not that good. There is no way, she'll be able to fake her feelings, her true feelings, with you paying attention; and you will be," he said. He had me there. Charlie and Megan Wilson What if she really did love me? What if she had really been merely frustrated because of my long hours and consequent inability to learn. That bothered me. I'd never had a problem learning anything. But how to love and serve and respond to a woman like Megan and the games we played? Anyway, did I dare take the chance? "Have a seat," I said, finally agreeing to have him stay for a while. Two hours, and three manhattans each later, I'd made a decision. ****** I stood there in the doorway waiting for her to say something. "Charlie?" she said. She was tentative, but she stood aside for me to enter. "Charlie? What can I do for you? I mean..." I went to her and hugged her, just as Daryl had suggested. She hugged me back, though not with much enthusiasm. I took a half step back and looked her in the eyes. I slowly, very slowly leaned in as if to kiss her. Initially, she kind of leaned back from me, but then, she seemed to rethink herself, and our lips met. "I want to come back," I said. "I mean if..." "Charlie..." I interrupted her to hand her the small styro bag I was carrying. She looked at, and slowly took it from me. She opened it. She smiled. "Okay," she said. She smiled. She took the collar out of the bag and fastened around my neck attaching to it the companion leash. I was back. We were back. "I love you Megan. And, I am here to be trained and punished," I said. "And, you shall be," she said. And, now her smile was a mile wide. The sex that night was mythical in its wonderfulness. The next day was a totally different kettle of fish. I found myself with my pants down around my ankles and bent over the back of the living room couch. Her panties were stuffed in my mouth to muffle my screams. I squirmed as I never had, even with the pro Marissa. I gasped and coughed and gagged into my panty gag for most of the whipping, which whipping was accomplished with the switch. Jesus it stung. It stung like never before. But, my punishment accomplished, she comforted me. "We going to be okay now, Charlie?" she said. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Yes, I'm sure of it." Her smile was reward enough, but another night of fucking and sucking put the period on the sentence of our reconciliation. ******* His name was Herman Pierson. I was strapped into my chair as he pulled her to him. The man was black and tall and muscular and actually kind of a pretty boy. He sent a glance my way, and kind of half smirked; all of them did that; kinda saying without words what they thought of me, letting my wife be taken by him, them. I had to look away. It was noteworthy that Megan did not look my way, not yet. But, that said, I wasn't sure that I wanted her to. He began to feel her up and kiss her, and then he let the strap on her sundress fall from her right shoulder, then the other one. Then, he peeled her dress down to her waist and massaged her still bra covered breasts. "Nice," he said. "And your bra hooks in the front." "All the better for you to ravish them, you big bad wolf you," she said. He laughed, unhooked her, and her tits fell free. He felt her up and then leaned down and began suckling. I saw her wince a couple of times as he got a little too rough with her. "She finally looked my way and came to me, leaving her lover to watch. She put her arms on the edge of the chair and leaned forward bringing her face within inches of mine. "Enjoying the show, cucky? It's for you as much as for me. Mister Pierson is going to take me from behind while I lean here on the arms of the chair. I want you to watch my face as he impales me on his cock, his big fat cock." She leaned in a little further and kissed me. "I want you to enjoy this, Charlie. It's our first in a long time, and I hope the first of many more," she said. I nodded. I didn't trust my voice. He came up behind her, and I watched as he used his fingers to open her a little. Then, using his hand, he guided himself into her, She grunted. "God, cucky, he's big. I am stretched to the limit. Ugh! Her face took on a kind of stunned look as he drilled her repeatedly. Dribble slid from her mouth down the side of her cheek dripping onto my leg. Ugh!" I saw him stiffen, as he loaded her vagina with his sperm. He leaned over her back and rested on it for some little time. His cock slid out of her. They straightened up, and she led him by his now flaccid member back to the bed. "Sit down on the edge of the bed, Herman," she said. He did. "Now, lay back and spread your legs for me." She knelt between his legs; then, taking his cock in her hands, she began to suck him back to libidinous life. I saw him jerking and spasming as she teased his now tender penis. She got him standing tall in less than five minutes. She joined him on the bed and spread herself to accommodate him missionary style. He took her rocking her world and making her scream for more. It took him maybe ten minutes to get himself off. He rolled off of her gasping for breath. She got up from the bed and came to me. "You know what I need you to do now don't you my little cuckold," she said. "Yes ma'am," I said. She nodded and unstrapped me from the chair. I had been fully dressed until now. But, now she pulled me to my feet and squatting down, she pulled my pants down, then my underwear, exposing my miniature cock for her lover to view. "Herman, please sit on the edge of the bed again, please," she said. Now, it was me kneeling between her studs legs. Megan knelt beside me. She pulled on his cock a couple of times while watching me with a big smile on her face. She stretched it toward me a little and stared at me. "Time to do your duty, cucky," she said. "Suck my lover's dick. Get it all nice and hard for me once more. Okay?" I leaned forward and let her guide his still soft penis to my lips and then inside my mouth. I had to suck for some minutes to get him up, but I finally did. Megan slid up onto the bed and got on all fours. "Take my ass, Herman. I need you to take my ass, so my husband can see what a real man can do for a woman," she said. After using some KY to moisten her orifice, he slid into her upraised butt and screwed her slowly for some time before erupting inside of her for the third and final time. I was told to go kneel with my face in the corner while she showed her lover of the evening out. It had been quite a first night back in the saddle, as she would refer to it. ****** Breakfast was quiet. Eggs and bacon on the patio. We were, at first, both lost in our own separate worlds. "Was it good for you, cucky?" she said. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Pretty good." "I'm glad. We'll go slow, but we will be getting back into the groove before long. We just have to be careful, and I do mean for the both of us," she said. "Yes, I agree. But, if the next ones are like this Herman fellow; well, we should be fine," I said. The future looked promising. ******