cuckold stories by authors

Stories by Wayne C. Rogers





Cuckold Story: Making of a Submissive Husband





As the gothic-style music of Enigma drifted in to us from the candle-lit area of the master bedroom, I stared down at my lovely wife and watched as she performed the act of fellatio on me. We were in the semi-darkness of the walk-in closet, and Gerry was on her knees in front of me, sucking my penis, causing it to quickly grow in length and to expand in thickness.

This was something I hadn’t expected.

Ever since my wife had made me sign the “slave” contract over three months ago in which I agreed to give up all my rights as a husband and to submit to her as a full-time slave, I’d been regulated to just one orgasm a month. She no longer permitted me to have sexual intercourse with her, nor was I allowed to masturbate without her explicit permission. Gerry now controlled my orgasms with an iron fist, believing—as most dominant women do—that true obedience could only be achieved when a man’s cock and balls were totally enslaved by his Mistress.

I was therefore surprised by this turn of events.

Her head continued to move up and down in a steady rhythm as her lips brought me swiftly to the point of no return. It had been four very long weeks since my last orgasm, and I could feel a climax of epic proportions getting ready to erupt. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that Gerry was actually going to allow me to ejaculate, especially in her mouth. I knew my wife better than that. Something else was up, and it probably wouldn’t be pleasant. Since this was our first time at playing a “breath” game, she’d want me to be right on the edge for tonight’s festivities.

When my cock started to pulsate with the impending orgasm, my wife suddenly stopped her oral manipulations and began to tie a long, narrow black leather cord around my testicles. She swiftly wrapped the cord thrice around the top of my sac and then crisscrossed the thong two times over and under each of my testicles so that they were separated like ripe purple plums on the verge of bursting. The coup de grace occurred a few seconds later when she repeatedly wound the rest of the cord tightly around the base of my erection and then tied the two ends off into a perfect bow. This effectively cut off the flow of blood to my groin, and it wouldn’t take long for the immediate pain to deepen into something far more exquisite.

I hissed softly to myself at the tightness of the cord.

My genitals were already throbbing from the discomfort.

Gerry picked up the ball gag and handcuffs that were lying on the floor next to the foot stool I was standing on and then rose to her feet so that she could get a better view of her finished work. Pursing her lips as if deep in thought, she took a step backwards and smiled mischievously up at me.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“A little,” I said.

“Just a little?”

“Ask me again in an hour.”

“Why an hour?”

“Because my cock and balls will probably be a dark shade of blue by then, and the pain will be excruciating.”

“I don’t want to wait an hour, Chris.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Gerry stepped forward, grabbed my testicles with her leather-gloved hand, and squeezed them till my eyes began to water. A meandering path of tears began to run down the sides of my face, and a deep, low moan of agony escaped from between my lips.

I didn’t scream out.

To experience sexual pain was all I craved for, and my wife knew this. One of her goals in life was not only to assist in turning my dark fantasies into reality, but also to fulfill my twisted need to feel true pain at the hands of a dominant woman. She and I thrived on the adrenaline rush of risk and danger, and sought ways to continuously push the envelope. Gerry told me after we were married that destiny had brought her into my life so that she could inflict pain and suffering upon me.

I believed her.

“How does it feel now?” she asked. “Is the pain more intense?”

“Yes,” I said.


“Yes, it hurts, Mistress.”

“But does it hurt enough?”

“No, Mistress!”

“That’s what I need to know, darling.”

Gerry continued to squeeze my balls with her right hand as she stared up into my eyes.

“I can take more,” I said.

“I hope so.”

My wife loved it when I suffered for her. It made her pussy wet and filled her with an intense sexual heat that knew no limitations. Nothing was taboo. She was capable of doing anything. The more danger and humiliation involved, the more explosive her orgasms were.

Placing her soft, red lips to my left nipple, Gerry kissed and sucked on it till the small protuberance became hard. I then felt her sharp teeth biting down into it, drawing blood, and causing me to shiver uncontrollably. She let go of my aching balls and wrapped her gloved fingers around my stiff cock, stroking it back and forth with a maddening ferocity, silently daring me to cum without her permission.

I knew what she was up to.

One of the ironclad rules in our household is that for me to ejaculate without my wife’s permission results in the worse possible punishment.

No exceptions to the rule.

If I shot off in her hand without permission, I’d have to endure the harshest of whippings, or the most severe form of toilet training. This was something I knew from personal experience, and it was a mistake I never wanted to repeat. I loved my wife, but I was also scared of her. I understood the sadistic side of her personality and knew precisely what she was capable of doing when provoked.

“Would you like to cum?” she asked teasingly.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to have an orgasm?”

“No, Mistress.”

“We’ll see how you do tonight. Maybe I’ll reward you afterwards.”

Gerry released my penis in the nick of time. I wouldn’t have lasted another ten seconds before finally exploding into her gloved hand. She stared down at her palm with obvious distaste and a big frown crept across her face. “Look at what you did to my expensive glove,” she said, holding her hand up for me to see. “It’s disgusting.”

I lowered my gaze to the palm of her hand and saw the glistening of pre-semen fluid on the black leather.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” she asked.


“Are you saying it’s my fault you can’t control your dirty thoughts?”

“No, Mistress.”

“I’ll have to punish you for this horrible act,” she said, placing the palm of her hand against my lips. “Now, lick the cum off my glove.”

I quickly began to lick the sticky fluid from off her leather glove. It was fun. I loved the smell of leather, and I was already used to the taste of my own semen. Whenever Gerry allowed me to have an orgasm, I was always required to clean up the mess with my tongue. It didn’t matter if I ejaculated on the kitchen floor, on my wife’s leg, in her hand, on a pair of her dirty pantyhose, or on her black leather boots. Once the climax was completed, I had to lick up the semen, or risk being denied an orgasm for a much longer period of time.

“That’s good enough,” she said, removing her hand from my mouth. “Your punishment isn’t over. In a few minutes, I’m going to take a wooden ruler to your cock. I think it needs a good beating, don’t you?”

I couldn’t help but smile with anticipation.

“Step off the stool,” she ordered.

It was now time for the serious stuff to begin.

I watched my wife take a couple of steps back to give me some extra room. She stood there at the entrance to the closet, high-lighted by the flickering candles in the bedroom, dressed only in black sheer thigh-top stockings and black stiletto-heeled shoes. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, giving her beautiful face a more severe appearance. Gerry had also applied a light amount of make-up to her dark, penetrating eyes and on her cheekbones, accenting her aristocratic features, and making herself look even more like a true Goddess.

She waited patiently for me to take the dreadful plunge.

“Give me a moment,” I said.

Gerry didn’t say anything.

I looked into her eyes and saw a love so strong that it literally took my breath away. It definitely made my heart beat faster. I suddenly wanted to please her more than anything, and the power of that sensation truly frightened me. There was no turning back with what I was getting ready to do. I could see the soft love in her eyes gradually change to a simmering heat, and I knew that she was excited about the game we were about to play.

“Do it,” she said.

I swallowed hard and then reached up with both hands to grab the length of rope that was hooked to the eyebolt in the ceiling. The bottom half of the rope was twisted into a hangman’s noose, and it was tight around my neck. Holding onto the rope, I stepped carefully off the stool and lowered myself to the floor. The rope became taut just as the balls of my feet touched the soft shag carpet underneath me.

There wasn’t much leeway for error.

Whether or not I survived the night would depend solely on my ability to stand on the balls of my feet for a rather lengthy period of time. I instinctively knew that the duration of my torture would be determined by how long it took my wife and her new lover to fuck. I expected them go for at least an hour. Maybe two. Both Gerry and Tony would be extremely excited by my predicament, and I could probably anticipate them fucking three-to-four times before exhaustion finally set in.

“Turn around,” she said, “and place your hands behind your back.”

I obeyed my Mistress.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know.”

“It’s all about trust, Chris.”

I felt her handcuff my wrists together. She then placed the rubber ball into my mouth and fastened its leather strap tightly behind my head. I was now completely at my wife’s mercy. She held my life in her hands. I was scared; yet, I was also sexually aroused by the endless possibilities of tonight’s game.

Gerry pressed up against me, flesh to flesh, kissing the back of my bare shoulder and then the side of my neck. I felt her hot breath in my ear. Her leather-gloved hands snaked around to the front of my naked body, teasing me with their delicate touch. One hand suddenly grabbed my cock in a vise-like grip, jerking it upward, while the other hand took hold of my right nipple and twisted it viciously. I was so aroused by what was happening that the urge to cum was overwhelming.

“Are you scared?” she asked.

I nodded.

My wife bit me on the right ear and laughed. “Maybe I’ll let you strangle to death while Tony fucks me,” she said. “Does the thought of that excite you?”

I nodded again.

“I can just picture Tony’s large cock pounding into me as you hang here, unable to stand on the balls of your feet any longer, slowly dying from strangulation,” Gerry said in a near whisper. I could suddenly feel her pelvic bone grinding hungrily into my buttocks as if she were trying to fuck me from behind. “Maybe I’ll cum at the precise moment you die.”

Have I mentioned how wicked my wife is?

She wanted me to imagine her scenario so that I could see it in my mind. She was trying to get me aroused at the thought of Tony being between her legs, driving his cock repeatedly into her as the sounds of my struggling death carried them to a higher level of sexual bliss. It was a bizarre, perverted image, but it also made my own erection that much harder. I remembered the movie, The Postman Always Rings Twice, with Jack Nicholson and Jessica Lange and how they fucked that night on the hill after murdering her husband.

Gerry and I were made for each other! If there was such a thing as soul mates, then that was us in a nutshell. We were two very sick puppies who’d recognized a kindred spirit in the face of the other

She released her hold upon me, picked up the stool, and carried it out into the master bedroom. While she was gone, I turned around so that I was facing the entrance to the closet. I don’t know how long my wife was gone but it seemed like forever. I could already feel the strain on my ankles and calves, and wondered if I’d be able to last an hour of this sadistic torture.

When Gerry finally returned, she was carrying a twelve-inch wooden ruler in her right hand. There was a smirk on her face that told me I was in for a lot of pain. Moving to my side, she struck me hard across the leg with the ruler, then commanded me to spread my feet further apart. I did as ordered and felt myself wobbling precariously on my toes.

“It’s time for the rest of your punishment,” she said, hitting the head of my penis with the bottom side of the ruler. A loud smacking sound filled the closet, followed by a moan of pain that was also mixed with a high degree of pleasure. The blow from the ruler stung, and I attempted to pull away when she hit me a second time. My futile efforts to escape the punishment made her laugh. “I’m going to beat your cock till Tony arrives. You’d better pray he gets here early.”

I have no idea how many times Gerry struck me with the ruler. I stopped counting after thirty-seven. I do know that the blows became faster and progressively harder as the count increased.

Still, I never lost the erection.

The tight leather cord around my groin and the lost of circulation may have had something to do with that. Whatever the reason, my cock jutted outward, eagerly awaiting each blow from the ruler. The pain seemed to stimulate me. If Tony hadn’t rung the doorbell when he did, I think I would’ve shot my load of cum on the carpeted floor within a matter of minutes.

“Saved by the bell,” she said. Her face was clearly flushed with excitement. “Would you like me to leave the closet door open?”

I nodded.

“You want to hear us fuck, don’t you, darling?”

I nodded my head again.

Gerry kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of noise, “ she said. “I don’t want you to be bored.” She then removed a silk robe from one of the hangers, put it on, and tied the loose belt around her waist. My wife kissed me one last time and then walked out of the closet to go answer the front door.

I listened to the sound of Gerry and her boyfriend talking as they came down the short hallway that was just off the foyer and entered the master bedroom.

“You look so beautiful and sexy tonight,” Tony said to her.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed.

“Just looking at you makes my cock hard.”

“So I see.”

“Where’s your husband?”

“In the bedroom closet,” she said.

“In the closet?”

“Yes, would you like to see him?”

“What’s he doing in the closet?” Tony asked.

“We’re playing a new game tonight.”

“Should I even ask about it?”

She laughed.

They walked around to the entrance of the closet and stopped. I could see Tony standing in front of my wife as he tried to see more clearly into the darkness of the small enclosure.

“Is that a rope around your husband’s neck?” he asked.

“What do you think?” Gerry said.

I watched Tony take several hesitant steps toward me and then stop again as his eyes adjusted to the darken space. A surprised expression suddenly appeared on his face. His eyes focused on the rope around my neck, and then followed it up to the heavy metal eyebolt in the ceiling.

“Damn!” he muttered, turning his head around to look back at my wife. “Are you both crazy or something?”

“Absolutely,” Gerry said.

“What happens if he dies while we’re fucking?”

“The police will arrest us.”

“We’ll be accused of murder, won’t we?”

“Probably,” she said. “It makes my pussy wet just thinking about it.”

“Shit!” Tony said.

My wife stepped into the closet and leaned back against the doorjamb. Untying the silk belt from around her slim waist, she slowly pulled back the robe so that Tony could see her naked body.

“Come here,” she said.

Tony licked his lips with obvious desire, took two steps toward her, and reached out to push the robe off her shoulders. It slid down her arms and the backside of her body, dropping to the floor. Wrapping his arms around Gerry’s waist, he pressed his hard body up against hers and then kissed her fully on the mouth. She moaned as her lips parted to accept his roving tongue. His right hand casually found its way down to my wife’s left buttock and his fingers gently explored the mound of white flesh. Then, grabbing her ass in a firm grip, he pulled her more deeply into the contours of his body. Their pelvises began to grind against each other as the sexual energy grew steadily into a raging inferno of lust.

I could feel my own erection straining forward as I watched my wife in the arms of another man. The unexpected rush of jealousy filled my mind, but it was no match for the sexual heat that overwhelmed me like a tidal wave of raw emotions. I tried to fight the dark urges and desires that soared through my soul.

But it was no use.

I couldn’t turn my head away from the drama being played out before me. I wanted to watch what was happening as Tony pulled his lips away from my wife’s hungry mouth and they made their way over to the side of her soft face. He passionately kissed her cheek, her closed eyes, her ear, and then his lips slid down to the side of her neck and her bare shoulder. Tony’s right arm came up, and he cupped her full, left breast in the palm of his hand, stroking the hard nipple with the tips of his fingers.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“On the bed?”

“No,” Gerry said, shaking her head. “Right here on the floor in front of my husband. I want him to see what it’s like when I’m fucked by a real man.”

“You’re so bad,” he said.

“I know.”

Gerry backed out of the closet and then lay down on the carpeted floor in front of the door. Tony followed her without hesitation. He got down on his knees and moved between her stocking-covered legs. Swiftly unbuckling his pants in what appeared to be a frenzy of activity, he yanked them and his boxer shorts down to his knees. His back was toward me so I couldn’t see the size of his appendage. My wife had told me the week before that it was very impressive in both length and width. As he lowered his body down to hers, she reached out with her hand and took hold of his cock, guiding the head of it to the entrance of her vagina.

“That’s it,” she said. “Push it in.”

He quickly shoved his cock into Gerry and caused her to groan loudly from the pleasure of his forceful entry. She brought her legs back so that he could penetrate her even more deeply, then wrapped them around his lower back to keep him in place as his body began to urgently move back and forth. My eyes followed the rise and fall of his buttocks, knowing that on each downward motion Tony was thrusting his cock into my wife, filling her pussy as completely as possible, satisfying her in ways I was no longer allowed to do.

“Yes!” she cried out.

Tony raised the upper half of his body with his arms and then stared down into her eyes.

“I want you,” he said. “I need you.”

The speed of his rising buttocks increased as he drove his cock harder into Gerry. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips, playfully biting the top one. She then placed her arms around his shoulders and pulled his body all the way down to hers. They kissed and moaned and fucked as if there were no tomorrow. I saw my wife look at me from over his shoulder. Her eyes were filled with passion, and I knew that she was close to having an orgasm. She gave me a knowing smile of satisfaction that tore into my heart and ripped it open.

“Cum inside me,” she said to him.

That was all he needed to hear.

Arching his back like a dancing cobra, he drove his penis repeatedly into her wetness, groaning with what sounded like pure agony as he eventually ejaculated his seed into the dark corridors of her womb. His release triggered Gerry’s own orgasm. She gripped him tightly with her arms and legs, meeting his final thrusts with an urgent desperation, crying out from the ripples of pleasure that began to flood through her body like the dark clouds of an approaching.


Minutes passed with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing.


“God, that was good!” Tony said. “I feel like every drop of cum has been sucked out of me.”

“I’ll do that later,” my wife said.

“I bet you will, too.”

“My husband certainly got a good show.”

“Is he still alive?”


“That’s a relief,” he said. “I don’t feel like spending the rest of my life in prison just because I fucked some guy’s kinky wife.”

“You’re so romantic, Tony.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, you know where it’s located.”

Tony got off of Gerry and slowly rose to his feet. Reaching down, he pulled up his pants and boxer shorts, then walked out of sight. My wife continued to lie there on the floor, staring up at me with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. Her legs were spread slightly apart, and I could see a small stream of semen oozing out her onto the shag carpet.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.

I nodded.


Getting to her feet, Gerry stepped over to the closet and smiled at me. “I think you’ve seen more than enough for one night,” she said. Then, waving at me, she closed the door, laughing at the expression on my face.

And I was engulfed in total darkness.


Submissive Husband story, part 2



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