cuckold stories by authors

Stories by Wayne C. Rogers





BDSM Cuckold Story: Love Is More Then A Word




I did a quick walk through in the kitchen and saw that the popcorn was on top of the stove ready to be heated, and that there was plenty of grape Kool-Aid in the refrigerator for the Little Princess to drink. That was my nickname for Lady Jennifer's two-year old daughter, Vanessa. Jennifer was the Princess, and Vanessa was the Little Princess. Both of them were pure royalty in my eyes, and I always tried to treat them as such. Anyway, the Little Princess wouldn't drink anything but grape Kool-Aid when eating popcorn.

It was a "kid" thing.

Try to sneak something past her like cherry Kool-Aid, or apple juice, or even Dr. Pepper, and Vanessa would stand in the middle of the kitchen, or living room, pointing an accusing finger at you, shouting a barrage of words that couldn't be deciphered, much less understood, except by another two-year old. It was an amazing sight to behold. When the Little Princess did that, she looked just like her mom. My heart would fill up with so much love that I'd think it was going to burst, and I'd have to pick her up in my arms and give her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, telling the little vixen that I'd get her whatever she desired.

The strange thing is that I never had any problem understanding what Lady Jennifer wanted. She was always precise in her choice of words. In fact, the only real difference between the mother and daughter when they shouted at me (which wasn't very often) is that when Jennifer got in my face, I was smart enough to never argue with her and to say nothing but "Yes, ma'am" and "No, ma'am." To do otherwise was to risk her wrath, which could be considerable, depending upon her mood. Once, she'd paddled my bottom for fifteen straight minutes without stopping, blistering me so bad that I couldn't sit down for several days. My only crime had been to wash her lingerie with the regular clothes. Needless to say, I never repeated that particular offense again!

Walking out of the kitchen and into the living room, I saw that the DVDs of Shrek 2 and The Shark Tale were lying on top of the television and that there was a large stack of picture books about Barney, The Cat in the Hat, and Curious George lying on the floor next to the couch and coffee table. I expected Vanessa to be asleep by the time The Shark Tale finished. If not, I'd have to read children's stories to her till she eventually dosed off. Whenever her mother went out on a date, she'd always try to stay up till Jennifer got home, but usually to no avail.

I didn't see the Little Princess anywhere around.

I suspected that she was in her mother's bedroom, helping Lady Jennifer to get dressed for the big date tonight.

The new man in Jennifer's life was named Carl. He worked as the same hotel as she did and had been after her for almost two years, wanting her to go out with him, not caring if she had a husband or not. During most of that time, Jennifer had been married and had used that excuse for saying no to him. Now, she was single with a roommate, renting a three-bedroom house on the west side of town, and Carl had become even more persistent in his efforts. What had finally changed her mind about dating him was the huge bulge in the front of his jeans that she'd seen when he came into work on his day off. Carl helped to book the entertainment that appeared at their hotel, and he kept abnormal hours with his days off occasionally changing from week to week. The bulge in the front of his designer jeans, however, had done what no amount of bullshit had been able to accomplish. It had gotten her attention in a big way, making her curious as to what it would feel like to have something that huge inside of her body. Carl had caught her looking at the bulge and knew in an instant that he was about to score. They'd immediately scheduled a date for Friday night.

Though Lady Jennifer had told her family and friends that I was simply a roommate, helping to share the rent and household expenses so that she could make it on her own, I was really her slave.

I'd been after Jennifer longer than Carl.

I had known her for over six years. She used to work at the Strip hotel where I was still employed. I remember her mid-day walks through the casino in her tight, sexy, business outfits and high-heeled shoes, looking like Sandra Bullock in the way she moved and with her long reddish-brown hair flowing around her shoulders, driving all of the male employees crazy with lust. I don't know how many of the workers wanted to have sex with her. I suspected a lot. I know that I did in the worse possible way. Over time Jennifer and I became acquainted with each other, and she began to tease me unmercifully, knowing how much I wanted her. I used to tell her that she was a dominant bitch and that all she needed to complete the picture was a black leather skirt, boots, and a riding crop. The Princess would throw it right back at me, saying that she already had the skirt and boots, and when was I going to buy her the riding crop. Sometimes I'd even ask her outright if she had on pantyhose that day, or regular nylons with garters. She always told me to use my imagination, smiling at me in the most seductive way.

Unfortunately, Jennifer left the hotel before I could buy her a riding crop, and then I didn't hear from her again for over three years.

A mutual friend of ours finally gave Jennifer my new e-mail address at the hotel (by that time I had a different job with e-mail privileges), and one morning when I came into work, there was a note from her waiting for me on my computer.

She wanted to know if I'd gotten her a riding crop yet?

We then began to communicate with each other on a regular basis. I learned that she was on the downside of a bad marriage with a two-year-old daughter, trying to decide whether to stay or to leave. Though she loved her husband (he'd been her high school sweetheart), the guy treated her and their child like they didn't exist. I don't think it was intentional on his part. What I believe is that the two females just needed more love and attention than the guy was able to give. He had his own needs and was more concerned with fulfilling those than in seeing to the wants and desires of his wife and daughter. When Jennifer wrote me one day, stating that if she ever got married again, she'd make sure it was the husband who was treated like shit and not her, I immediately wrote back to her, stating that she and I should get together. Though there was a nineteen-year difference in our ages, I knew exactly what she needed in a husband. I wrote her a long e-mail, explaining that I would be her slave, that I'd love her and Vanessa more than any other man could possibly dream of doing, that I'd wait on her hand and foot, that I'd give her everything I had, and that she'd be the boss of our marriage and would always have the freedom to date other men, if she wanted to. I only asked two things from her—never to lie to me and to always come home at night.

That got her attention, and she said that she'd think about it.

When the Princess finally left her husband, she asked me if I wanted to be her roommate and to fulfill all of my promises to her. We could try it for a year and see what happened. If we liked the results, then marriage was certainly an option that was open to us. The only things she could promise me was that she'd never lie and that she'd always return home at night, though she might occasionally bring a friend with her.

Jennifer rented a three-bedroom Ranch house on the west side of Las Vegas with an option to buy, and furnished it to her own particular needs and tastes. It was on a quarter acre of wedge-shaped land in a quiet cul-de-sac. The large back yard was enclosed by a high stucco wall and had a swimming pool with a cement patio adjacent to the kitchen. The front yard was smaller with what seemed to be a perfect square of lawn to mow and a two-car garage to the right. Inside the house, she claimed the master bedroom for her own. It had a huge bathroom with a sunken tub and there was a large walk-in closet to handle her countless pairs of shoes. I got the next largest bedroom so that I could put my desk and computer in there. My bathroom was the one across the hallway. Vanessa got the smallest bedroom and shared her mother's bathroom. Actually, I think the Little Princess used my bathroom more than her mother's because there were always toys on the floor of it and in the shower stall.

The second night after I'd moved in with them, Jennifer came into my room and sat down on the end of the bed. She instructed me to get down on the floor in front of her on my hands and knees and to keep my eyes lowered. I was not to raise my head without permission. She talked to me for nearly thirty minutes, going into detail on what would be expected of me as her personal slave.

First and foremost, I was to address her as Lady Jennifer. This would show her the respect that was so richly deserved. Second, I was to lose forty pounds of weight by exercising everyday and watching what I ate. She'd be weighing me on the scales every Saturday to see how I was doing as well as keeping an eye on the types of food I ate. She wanted me to focus on fruits and vegetables and to stay away from the junk food. Not to make a pun here, but Jennifer dangled a carrot in front of me as an enticement for losing the necessary weight. My Mistress said that she'd have intercourse with me when I got down to the proper weight for my age and height. She wanted her slave to be attractive and healthy. My bi-weekly paychecks were to be deposited directly into her checking account. I would, however, be given a weekly allowance of fifty dollars to cover my necessities, though I was smart enough to know that I'd need to stash away at least thirty dollars a week so that I'd have money to buy birthday and Christmas presents for the two ladies in my life.

Next, I was to be in charge of cleaning the house and washing and ironing the clothes and doing some of the cooking and mowing the lawn and washing her car and doing most of the grocery shopping, not to mention anything else that she could think of. Any sexual contact that I might be allowed to have with her would be entirely at her discretion; and, until I lost the desired weight, it would consist of nothing more than oral service on my part. I was there for her pleasure and not mine. I, on the other hand, was not allowed to have an orgasm. Masturbation without her explicit permission was forbidden (because that would be the most difficult command for me to keep, Jennifer would eventually have to place me in a male chastity device and keep the key to its lock on her gold anklet).

At times I would be permitted to bathe her and to massage her and to do pedicures on her toenails. Lady Jennifer told me that she would be dating other men on a regular basis and that as a slave, I'd have no say-so in whom she saw or had sex with. That would be her choice and her choice alone. She had no intention of ever being faithful to another man. She enjoyed having sexual intercourse too much and intended to have it as often as she could. Any displays of jealousy on my part would not be tolerated.

Jennifer, however, didn't mind if I got jealous.

What she didn't want was for me to act on my emotions, especially after encouraging her to take other lovers. She expected me to support her in this endeavor and to hopefully enjoy the lifestyle as much as she intended to. Disobedience to anything that was demanded of me would be punished swiftly and harshly. My Mistress was serious about this and wanted to make sure I understood what I was getting myself into. She had no problem with whipping me to change undesirable behavior. She intended to have me order a number of implements on the Internet (a riding crop, a well-made Spencer paddle, a bamboo cane, and a short whip) for punishing bad slaves, as well as a small amount of equipment for binding the slave during punishment sessions so that he couldn't escape. She warned me a second time that the whippings would be hard and very painful, and that I should always think twice before pissing her off. She would show no tolerance for my indiscretions. I was to remember at all times that I was her slave and that she own me and could do whatever she wanted with me. I had no rights and no freedom, and that I needed to be very careful with what came out of my mouth.

Those were the rules of the house, and I was expected to abide by them.


During the third week of our living arrangement, Lady Jennifer's ex-husband came over one night to see Vanessa, and I was put through my first test.

He and I were introduced to each other, and then we politely shook hands like true gentlemen.

I could immediately tell that he was relieved at seeing I was an over-weight, middle-aged guy in his fifties and not some young stud who would be a threat to his relationship with Jennifer. Leaving the three of them alone, I went into my room and wrote on the computer (my hobby is writing short stories, children's books, novels, screenplays, etc.) for a couple of hours. They had Domino's pizza delivered and watched television together. When the Little Princess finally fell asleep and was taken into her bedroom, I heard Jennifer and her ex-husband out in the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and then kissing each other like they were teenagers on their first date. It wasn't long before she took him into her bedroom and they had sex. In fact, they had sex for most of the night. Now that the two of them were divorced from each other and the stress of marriage was off of their shoulders, their sexual interaction was better than ever. I lay in my bed that night and listened to the sounds of them fucking, finding myself aroused and jealous at the same time. It must've been around four o'clock in the morning when Jennifer unexpectedly came into my room and sat down on the side of the bed for a minute or two. The Princess didn't have anything on.

She knew that I was awake.

Leaning over, she kissed me on the lips, and then asked if I was jealous over what she'd just done.

I told her that I was.

Jennifer then reached down and felt my erection and grinned at me. Even in the darkness, I could see that knowing smile on her lovely face. She told me that it was good that I was jealous and that it would give me more of an incentive to lose the excess weight.

I have to admit that she had a point.

During the next six months, our relationship gradually developed into a family. It didn't take Jennifer long to grow comfortable in the role of Mistress and to accept the love that I poured on her and Vanessa. She soon began to thrive on it. I could also say the same for the Little Princess. She felt the happiness that filled our home and began to see me as her second father. I gave Vanessa the much needed attention that she craved, listening to her, playing with her, watching movies together, going for walks together, and reading to her at bed time. She was totally secure in the love that I had for her and her mother.

Though Jennifer continued to have sex with her ex-husband, it wasn't long before she started to date other men. Some of them were only one-night stands, but others lasted longer. She let the guys know right up front that she wasn't interested in love or marriage. That caused most of the relationships to remain sexual in nature, which was fine by her and me. The only catch here was that Lady Jennifer expected the men to be monogamous with her, while she was free to have multiple partners.

She never lied to them.

They could either take it or leave it. Men were a dime a dozen to a woman like her. She could have her pick of bedroom partners.

From my point of view, one of the good things about this was that she found people who enjoyed doing a lot of the same things that she did. Jennifer loved going to rock concerts and traveling at the spur of the moment.

I didn't.

This insured that the Princess always had me as a babysitter for Vanessa and didn't have to trouble her mother too often. As it was, Jennifer's mother kept Vanessa during the weekdays so that the both of us could work. I didn't mind babysitting with Vanessa. It wasn't long before I began to view her as my own daughter. When the three of us would go shopping at the mall, Jennifer would usually go into Victoria's Secret to buy something sexy to wear, while the Little Princess and I went into B. Dalton's to buy some new children's books. I don't know which of them was the happiest with their purchases.

I should point out that not everything was picture perfect.

Lady Jennifer had her moods and expected me to be able to read them. I once made the mistake of saying to her that if I could read minds, I'd be playing professional poker for a living and making a million dollars a year. That comment earned me a whipping with the bamboo cane. Jennifer made me take off my clothes and lie face down at the end of my bed. She bound my wrists and ankles together with leather cuffs and stuck a ball-gag into my mouth. She then began to methodically whip my bottom and the back of my thighs with sharp fast strokes of the cane, causing me to groan loudly from the burning pain. Even with the ball gag in my mouth, Vanessa heard my moans and came pounding on the bedroom door, wanting to know in her two-year-old language why I was crying. Her mother opened the door and explained that I'd been bad and was being spanked. The child understood what Jennifer was saying because a few minutes later I could hear her running around the living room, shouting, "Wayne spanked! Wayne spanked!"

I can't say that thrilled me.

I could just picture Vanessa letting the cat out of the bag and telling her grandmother that mommy spanks Wayne whenever he's naughty. I knew that would go over like a lead balloon. Anyway, from that point on, whenever I said "no" to something Vanessa wanted to do, she'd say to me, "Mom spank you." I'd get the message loud and clear, and then automatically roll my eyes in resignation and give in to whatever she wanted. In her own way, the child was already learning how to dominate the male species to get exactly what she desired from them. The Little Princess was definitely going to be a pistol when she reached her teens. As for the whipping that the Mistress of the house gave me that night, it taught me something that scared the living daylights out of me. Most women have a certain amount of abhorrence to inflicting physical pain on another human being. Now, I'm not talking about emotional pain. When it comes to emotional pain, no one does it better than a female.

Physical pain, however, is something different.

The majority of ladies in a relationship based on Female Domination have to be coerced into whipping their husbands or boyfriends.

Not Jennifer.

There was a bit of the sadist in her personality when it came to men, and she had no trouble giving me a hard thrashing when I deserved it. The problem was in getting her to ease up, or even to stop once she got started.

This lady enjoyed whipping me.

I could see it in her flushed face and in the gleam of excitement in her eyes. She became aroused by this act of power over another human being and it scared me. There was no telling what she was capable of doing when in a state of sexual excitement and this taught me one very important fact--to never provoke her under any circumstances.

Probably the worse beating I got from Lady Jennifer during the first six months of our arrangement was on a weekend when she and her daughter were supposed to be visiting her mother. Jennifer had forgotten to take something with her that day and had come back unexpectedly after dropping the Little Princess off. I was in my bedroom with the door closed, lying on the bed, fantasizing about my Mistress having sex with one of her new boyfriends. It was the first and only time that I'd consciously disobeyed her. Of course, if I'd known she was coming back in less than hour, I certainly wouldn't have dared to take a chance on masturbating. The only excuse I could offer was that it had been too long since my last orgasm, and that I was unable to wait another month, or week, or day. At the time I still had fifteen pounds to shed, and who knew how long that was going to take.



continue to part 2



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