The Best of Cuckold Stories - Julie 5
“Julie” part 5
by c.w. cobblestone
The instant the kicker’s foot struck the pigskin, I knew the kick was wobbly. The ball fluttered weakly toward the yellow goal post like a drunken butterfly, hanging in the air for what seemed like a lifetime.
“Get up, get up!” Kevin screamed. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t look.
I learned my fate a split-second later, when both Kevin and Roy simultaneously screamed, “It hit the goal post! It hit the goal post!” I opened my eyes and looked at the television just in time to see the ball bounce impotently onto the turf.
“Oh, you son of a bitch!” Kevin yelled at Roy, who high-fived Diana. “You lucky bastard!”
“It wasn’t luck; I knew he was gonna choke,” Roy said smugly as he leaned back on the couch, drained his drink with a flourish, and rattled the ice at me.
“I’m ready for another one, Waldo,” he said. As I scurried to fetch him a new drink, I heard him say, “Might as well get used to having Waldo as my slave now, since I got him for the whole weekend.”
I scuttled to the kitchen with mixed feelings swirling around my stomach. On the one hand, I was thankful I wouldn’t have to shove a rib bone up my ass. How embarrassing would that be? On the other hand, I knew I was in for a hell of a weekend at my masters’ friends’ house.
“Waldo, if I was you, I’d try to rest up this week,” Roy cautioned as I handed him his drink. “Because your ass is ours next weekend – and between me and Mistress Diana, I suspect you ain’t gonna be getting much sleep.”
Everyone’s laughter drowned out my respectful reply of “yes, sir.”
Then Kevin piped in, “And I better not get a bad report, either, cuz if I do, your ass is freshly mowed grass.”
“Yes, sir,” I again said, bowing my head.
Diana sat forward in her seat. “Is it okay if we whip him while we’ve got him?”
My wife smiled. “You can do whatever you want, girl, I don’t care. If he doesn’t do what you tell him, go ahead and blister that ass. Just don’t do any permanent damage.”
Diana looked at me with an evil glint in her eye.
“You hear that, Waldo? We’re gonna have us some fun next weekend, aren’t we, slave?”
“Y-yes, Miss Diana,” I stammered.
Kevin downed his beer and belched. “Another one,” he said, setting the empty onto the table in front of him.
“I’m ready for a refill too, Walter,” my wife said.
After everyone had their drinks, I again knelt on the carpet near the couch with my head bowed while they settled in for the Bears game. Other than calling me to refill drinks, they ignored me until halftime.
By then they were all pretty hammered, which had me worried, because they can get pretty cruel when they’ve been drinking. Adding to my trepidation was the fact that the Chargers were winning by two touchdowns; Roy, who lives and dies with the Bears, was NOT in a good mood.
“That ref PISSES ME OFF!!!” Roy fumed. “That was pass interference, plain as day, and the fucking ref’s got his thumb up his ass! Bring me another Jack and Coke, Waldo!”
Knowing what kind of mood he was in, I moved extra fast. That turned out to be my downfall.
As I rushed toward Roy with his cold drink, I stumbled on his tennis shoe, which he’d kicked off some time during the game. Although I managed to hold onto the glass, its contents spilled all over his shirt and lap.
Roy jumped up and slapped the shit out of me. My head snapped back and a mass of swirling colors and stars engulfed my senses.
“Stupid fat bastard!” Roy bellowed, although I could barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
“Yeah, you disgusting piece of shit!” Kevin joined in. “How dare you embarrass me like that!”
Tears filled my eyes. “I-I’m sorry, sir,” I sniffed. That only got me bitch-slapped again by Roy.
Through my haze of pain, I heard Julie say, “Waldo, go get Roy some of Kevin’s sweats to wear, and throw his clothes in the washing machine.”
When I got back with a suitable outfit, Roy had stripped out of his wet clothes and was only wearing his boxers. He snatched the sweats from me and put them on.
Kevin looked at me grimly. “You know you fucked up, don’t you, Waldo?”
“And you know we’re going to have to punish that fat, lard ass of yours, don’t you, Waldo?”
Kevin looked at his buddy. “Since you were the one who was the recipient of his fuck-up, I think it’s only fair that you decide his punishment.”
Diana jumped without hesitation: “Make him shove a rib bone up his ass!” she cried, and everyone busted up laughing. Everyone, that is, except Roy and I.
“That ain’t enough,” Roy said. “I’m thinking 50 lashes might be a better punishment.”
Diana wouldn’t be swayed. “Okay, then,” she said, “50 lashes – plus a rib bone up his ass!” More laughter.
“That still ain’t enough,” Roy said. “But I’ve got an idea: Waldo, run out to my car and get my gym bag out of the trunk.”
I hastened to obey, my heart pounding as I wondered what the hell was in store for me. As I took Roy’s gym bag out of his trunk, it dawned on me that fate had just dealt me the worst possible outcome: I was going to have to spend all weekend cleaning Roy and Diana’s house, and I still was going to have to shove the rib bone up my ass anyway. Plus the 50 lashes – and whatever punishment was hidden inside Roy’s gym bag.
It didn’t take long to find out. I handed the bag to Roy, who fished around in it for a second before producing a tube of Ben-Gay. My heart sank as I deduced what was about to happen.
“You need some lubricant before you shove that bone up your ass, Waldo,” Roy said, brandishing the tube.
Everyone laughed, and Kevin said, “Damn, Roy, you’re cold-blooded!”
“And Waldo’s ass is about to be hot-blooded!” Diana retorted drunkenly, causing a new round of humiliating laughter.
Kevin pointed toward the kitchen with his thumb. “Well, get to it, Waldo – go into the garbage and dig you out a rib bone. Make it a good one!”
I hung my head and retreated to the kitchen. I sadly dug through the garbage until I found a rib bone with very little meat on it. I quickly wiped it off with a napkin and returned to the living room.
“Okay, now drop your drawers,” Kevin ordered. “Underwear, too.
I complied and when my tiny dick was exposed, Diana and Kevin cracked up.
“Oh, that’s right, you guys have never had the pleasure of seeing Waldo’s little pee-pee,” Julie giggled. “Well, there it is, in all its pathetic, two-inch glory.”
Diana shook her head. “Julie, it’s a wonder you didn’t become a lesbian after being married to this pathetic excuse for a man,” she said.
“Nah, I didn’t need to – I just went out and found me a real man,” Julie answered, leaning over toward Kevin and kissing his bicep. “Waldo does make good money, though, so we keep him around.”
Kevin interjected, “Let’s get this over with; the second half is going to start soon. Roy, hand me that Ben Gay. And Waldo, give me the bone.”
I handed Kevin the bone, and he liberally applied the hot cream to the entire thing. He gave it back to me.
“Okay, Waldo, you know what to do.”
I shut my eyes and gingerly reached behind me. The bone was cold as it touched my butthole. Thanks to the Ben Gay, it slipped in easily. I panicked when the entire bone slipped in – how the hell was I going to get that out? Within seconds, I had a new problem: The burn began to set in. It was pure agony.
“Hold out your hand, Waldo,” Roy said. When I did, he squirted another liberal dose of Ben Gay into my palm.
“Okay, now jack off for us.”
I was already dancing from the pain in my ass, but I knew I had no choice. I felt like my entire lower half was on fire, and tears filled my eyes as I lowered my hand to my little penis and began stroking it. It felt like someone was holding a match to the sensitive membranes.
Julie, Kevin, Roy and Diana all died laughing when I suddenly stopped, fell to my knees and began begging, “Oh, please, please, please, can I go wash this off? It hurts so bad!” I knew I was running the risk of incurring my masters’ further wrath with my impromptu performance, but I couldn’t help it – the pain was just too much to bear.
Of course, that didn’t mean anything to them. Julie said casually, “No, Waldo, you’re being punished. Deal with it.”
“Yeah,” Kevin piped in. “Besides, Roy still gets to put 50 stripes on that fat ass. In fact, go get the cane.”
“Wash your hands first,” Julie called after me as I scurried to the basement to retrieve my instrument of punishment. “I don’t want you touching everything and getting Ben Gay everywhere.”
I did as I was told and presented Roy with the dreaded cane the way I’d been taught: On my knees, with the cane held respectfully in both hands. He took it from me and swished it around a few times.
“Okay, fat ass – get into position,” Kevin said. I obeyed, dropping to the carpet and getting onto all fours, my nose to the ground and my ass in the air.
“Wow, that rib bone must be all the way up his ass – I can’t even see it!” Diana squealed.
“Figures,” Julie observed dryly. “You could probably fit the dining room table up that fat ass and still have room for a lamp.”
Everyone laughed. Then, without warning, the first blow hit me.
Roy wasn’t fucking around; he laid into me with all his might. Even though I know how much Kevin hates to hear me cry when I’m getting whipped, I couldn’t help it. After the 5th stroke I was openly sobbing and begging him to stop. Between the Ben Gay and the cane, I was overcome by excruciating pain.
Kevin cuffed me on the head. “Shut the fuck up, lard-ass!” he snarled.
“Here – shove Roy’s dirty sock into his mouth,” Diana slurred, pointing to the sock which lay on the carpet near the tennis shoe which had caused all this trouble in the first place.
“You do it,” Kevin answered. “I ain’t touching Roy’s nasty-ass sock!”
Roy stopped whipping me long enough to laugh. “Here, give it to me,” he said. Diana handed him the sock and he unceremoniously shoved it so far into my mouth I gagged.
“Now then, where were we?” Roy asked.
“NGggtgggtytooo,” I mumbled into the sock.
“Twenty,” Kevin said. He was way off – we were actually on 32 – but I was in no position to argue. I squeezed my eyes shut and resigned myself to the fact that I now had an extra 12 blows coming.
By the time Roy was finished, I was a complete, blubbering mess. I could hardly maintain my position, I was shaking so badly. I had cried so many tears, my face literally hurt. And, of course, there was the heartless fire emanating from my crotch and asshole, thanks to the Ben Gay.
The second half of the game was about to start, so when my whipping was over I was ordered to get dressed (“Nobody wants to look at that nasty white fish-flab” was how my wife so delicately put it), and I again knelt on the carpet. And, again, I was ignored, other than to fill drink orders. They chatted and watched their game, oblivious to my silent misery.
Nobody in the room was rooting harder for the Bears to win than I was, because I knew if they lost there was a very good chance Roy might find another reason to punish me. But, thankfully, the Bears mounted a comeback with 24 unanswered points in the second half, winning the game 27-17.
The outcome had put them in a good mood as they finished their drinks. By then Roy’s clothes were dry, so he changed back into them, leaving the sweats crumbled up on the living room floor for me to pick up.
Then he and Diana got ready to leave.
“Are you guys okay to drive?” Julie asked, concerned. “You’ve both had a lot to drink.”
“Well, I am a little buzzed,” Roy said. “And no way Diana’s driving.” He was right; she was completely lit.
“Hey, why don’t we have Waldo drive you home?” Julie suggested.
“You mean leave our car here?” Roy asked.
“No – Waldo can drive your car,” Julie said.
“But how’s Waldo gonna get back home?” Roy wanted to know.
“Who gives a shit?” Julie retorted, and the room was filled with yet another burst of humiliating laughter.
Roy and Diana thought Julie’s suggestion was a capital idea. So after they said their good-byes, I followed them to their car and opened the door for them. They sat in the back seat as I got behind the wheel. I flinched as I sat down for the first time since inserting the rib bone up my ass. I shifted uncomfortably the entire 12-mile ride.
Diana called from the back seat, “Hey, Waldo, thanks for being our designated driver-slave.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Diana.”
“How are you gonna get home, Waldo?” she asked.
“Um….walk, I guess,” I answered sadly. I didn’t have any money on me for bus fare, and for a brief instant I thought about hitting Roy and Diana up for the fare. But I thought better of it. Heaven help me if they called Julie and Kevin and told them I’d begged them for money, even if it was just $1.25.
Finally, I pulled up in front of their house. It was a big place; I was going to have my work cut out for me cleaning it the following weekend.
I struggled out of the car and opened the door for my passengers. As Roy exited the car, I handed him the keys.
“Thanks, Waldo,” he said. “See ya next weekend!”
“Thank you, sir,” I mumbled and turned to go.
“Wait,” Roy said. “Come here – I wanna give you something to remember me by.”
I nervously approached him.
“Open your mouth,” he said. When I did, he snorted deeply and hocked a loogie right into my mouth. I gagged and listened to Diana giggle.
“There you go,” Roy said, turning and walking arm-in-arm with his girlfriend toward their house.
“And don’t swallow it till you get home, either!” Diana added gleefully over her shoulder. With that, they disappeared into their warm house.
I stood there for a brief moment in total disbelief. Then reality hit me in the form of an icy gust of wind. Sadly, I put up the collar of my jacket and began the long trek home. I had 12 miles to walk, which would likely take several hours, and it was a cold and blustery winter’s night. The wind cut my face as I lowered my head and started limping home, the rib bone shifting in my ass with each step. By then, the Ben Gay’s burning effects had subsided to a dull ache.
With every fiber of my being I wanted to spit out Roy’s phlegm, but I couldn’t work up the courage, so I scrunched up my face and kept it in my mouth. Tears filled my eyes as I slowly, sadly limped away into the cold, dark night.