Madame Prosecutor's Cuckold Slave

I started this story more than 20 years ago, which was then titled “Obscure.” It was an unfinished novel, which is now complete, with new material never before posted. If you thrilled to the adventures of Natalie, Luke and wimp Brian when you first discovered cuckold porn, this is the book for you!

 

MADAM PROSECUTOR’S CUCKOLD SLAVE, part 1 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

Well, here we go again. Another long night sitting alone in my damp basement cubby hole, staring at the clock and trying not to cry. It's a terrible way to spend an evening, I know, but unfortunately I'm getting used to it. 

Going on midnight, and still no sign of her. I have a pretty good idea where she is, though. She's out with that creep from work again - either that or her car's broken down somewhere.

Fat chance. Luke has been calling the house a lot recently, and Natalie has been coming home later and later.

So I sit here and wait, like a sap, like I always do.

Don't ask me why I put up with it. It's love, I guess. Well, okay, maybe this isn't what most people would call love. Maybe it's some kind of manic-depressive infatuation. I don't know what you'd call it. Whatever it is, it sure has me hooked.

It's not easy being married to Natalie. She treats me like a dirty dishrag, but I always come running back for more.

She says her job has been stressful lately; maybe that's why she treats me the way she does. I'm trying to understand, and I've resolved to put up with it for the sake of our marriage. Natalie is an assistant prosecutor with the state of New Hampshire, and I suppose that has to be quite demanding. She puts in a lot of hours and sometimes the strain gets to her, I guess. But she's passionate about her career - she defines herself by it - and she has no intention of giving it up.

So she ends up taking all her frustrations out on me.

Still, a demanding career is no excuse for the terrible way she abuses me. It goes far beyond simple stress. Natalie goes out of her way to make my life miserable. She seems to derive an unholy joy from sticking the dagger into my gut and twisting it, all the while laughing at my feeble attempts to somehow make this marriage work.

And I can't fight back. Natalie has a quicksilver tongue, and her satanic green stare has been the downfall of many an intimidated witness on the stand. I'm certainly no match for her!

Whatever my wife wants, I've learned to just bow my head and say, "yes, Natalie."

I lost my job about a year ago. I used to be an accountant with a large corporation, but after my company downsized, Natalie told me not to bother looking for another job. She brought home most of the money anyway, she said, and we could get by quite comfortably without my salary. She told me it would be more convenient for her if I stayed at home and took care of things.

So that's exactly what I did. I stopped working on my resume and became quite the little house-husband, happy for the chance to finally do something that might please my aloof wife.

But it isn't easy. Natalie is a hard woman to please.

I work hard to keep our home spotless. I make sure dinner is hot on the table when she comes home from work every night. I keep her business suits clean and pressed. All her jewelry is kept polished and meticulously organized, and her shoes are always shined and arranged in neat rows in her walk-in closet. I take care of all the bills, do the grocery shopping, wash her Mercedes once a week, and even make sure Natalie's magazine subscriptions are faithfully renewed.

Not that my wife appreciates any of it. Natalie comes from a well-to-do family, and she's pretty much a spoiled brat. I'd never say that to her face, of course, but it's true. To the outside world she's the cool professional, elegant in demeanor and always the dynamic life of the party. But they don't see the side of her that I see: the bitch side. I work my ass off to please her, but she always finds something to complain about. If she's ever once said "thank you" for all my hard work, I sure don't remember it.

Still, I stick around.

Maybe if I lie down and close my eyes, I can block it all out, and pretend for a moment that she really does care for me...

Well I can dream, can't I?

*   *   *

I woke up from my short nap and glanced at the clock. Quarter-past twelve. My fertile imagination started conjuring up all sorts of possibilities. Maybe her car really did break down somewhere...or maybe she was hurt or something, and couldn't call.

Yeah, right.

I couldn't just sit there in the basement wallowing in self-pity, but what else could I do? When your wife is out on the town with her boyfriend while you're sitting alone at home, self-pity can be your only friend.

I idled upstairs into the kitchen to check on the pot roast. I figured it was beyond repair; you can only keep dinner warm for so long. But, lo and behold, when I looked in the oven the meat didn't appear to be too dried out. I cut a small piece and it seemed to be okay.

Maybe she'll be hungry after a hard night of fucking!

Perhaps it’s for the best. I sure can’t provide her with sex. Natalie’s constant criticism has rendered me impotent, although even when I could get it up, she told me it was too small for her to feel.

I wandered around the house, unsure of what to do next. I drifted into the laundry room and started folding some clothes. Just touching Natalie's shirts and dresses was making me weak! I held one of her blouses up to my breast, and I swooned. I can't help it. I still love her. I'll never stop loving her, no matter what.

Three and a half years. That's how long it's been since I've had sex with my wife. Actually, we've only done it three times during our whole marriage, and that was all within the first few months.

But after we were married for about four months, she dropped the bomb on me. One night, I was feeling boldly amorous and I asked Natalie if we could please make love. She stopped me cold and told me to sit down on the side of the bed.

"I've got something to tell you, Brian," she said seriously. Her calm, green gaze cut right to the marrow.

"I don't want to hurt your feelings too badly...but..." She paused, and an ever-so-slight wicked smile played on her lips. "Well, let's just put it this way: sex with you makes me nauseous, Brian. I'm sorry, but you fawn all over me. A woman doesn't like to be slobbered on, Brian. It makes me ill."

I was shattered. How do you respond to something like that? I sat there for a minute, stunned. And then I started to cry - which of course fueled Natalie's contempt.

"Awww, I hurt his little feelings," she said in that syrupy baby-talk she uses when she knows I'm on the ropes. "Don't worry, darling. I won't leave you. I just don't want you slobbering all over me. Sex with you just doesn't do the trick, Brian. You can understand that, can't you, little wuss?"

Well, from that time on, I haven't even thought about approaching Natalie for sex. I can pretty much forget about ever making love to my wife again. I guess I've accepted that the best I can. And I've grown to accept her little flings as well. I suppose I can't expect a woman like Natalie to go without sex...I just wish I was the one doing it with her. After all, she is my wife.

But, again, I put up with it all.

I often wonder why she even married me in the first place. It certainly wasn't love. Maybe she needed the security of having someone to come home to. I don't know. But she's too much of a free spirit to be bogged down by something as serious as love.

As for me, I think about my wife every minute of the day. She's my everything.

And it's weird, but I think my undying devotion is what makes her treat me the way she does. She resents the fact that I love her so much, I think. I don't know; I'm not a psychologist. Maybe she does love me in some kind of depraved way. I think she needs me, anyway.

I surely need her...

I awoke from my daydream and finished folding Natalie's blouses. After the last shirt was folded, I started on the dirty laundry. Spying a pair of her panties in the hand-wash basket, I fished them out, feeling a little guilty about fondling my wife's dirty underwear. But my desire quickly overcame my guilt. I untwisted the lacy white material until I found the crotch area then held the underwear up to my face, breathing in the faint scent of my wife's perfume mixed with her dried secretions.

As I stood in the laundry room with my face in Natalie's panties, I heard the key in the front door. She was home!

I tossed the panties back into the basket, then rushed out to the living room to greet my errant wife.

She was a mess. Her hair was standing up all over the place, the makeup around her eyes was mussed, and she was carrying her pumps. Her skirt and jacket were wrinkled beyond respectability.

Natalie gave me a wry smile as she handed me her shoes.

"He-llo, Brian," she sang pleasantly. She sniffed the air and smiled to herself. "Smells good! That's sweet, honey, you kept dinner warm. But, awwww, Luke and I already ate at the Tavern tonight. Sorry." She giggled and touched my nose lightly with the tip of her painted finger. I stood there in a sad daze holding her shoes as she breezed past me into the living room.

She flopped down onto the couch and stretched languidly. She looked like a sensuous, tired feline. "Brain, I'm EXHAUSTED!" She yawned loudly and ran her hands through her thick brown hair. "Whew! I got quite a workout tonight, Brian. Quite a workout..." her words drifted off as she peeled off her nylons one by one and handed them to me. "A night with Luke is better than 10 aerobics classes!

"Go get me a nice glass of wine - and get me my robe," she sighed.

I rushed to obey. After I fetched her wine and robe, I went into the kitchen and turned off the oven. I sadly cut up the roast I'd been worrying over all night and put it into a Tupperware bowl, in case Natalie wanted leftovers tomorrow.

By the time I'd finished in the kitchen, Natalie had already gone to bed. I was upset because I didn't get to spend any time with her tonight. She's never home anymore. It seems she's always out with Luke, and my time with her is very limited.

For a few minutes, I stood in the living room feeling sorry for myself, gazing unconsciously at the half-empty glass of wine she left sitting on the table.

Before going to bed, I peeked in on Natalie, peacefully snuggled up to her pillow. She looked so angelic, you wouldn't have guessed that she'd just had her brains fucked out a few hours ago. A tear worked its way down my face as I quietly shut her bedroom door and walked downstairs to my lonely room in the basement.

Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave, part 2 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

I spent four hours standing in line today. Natalie's favorite band was coming to town, and she wanted me to pick up two tickets. She told me not to get my hopes up; the other ticket was for Luke.

After Natalie left for work this morning, I hopped the bus downtown to the ticket outlet. There was already a huge crowd jockeying for spots in the line by the time I got there, and I was afraid the concert would sell out before I got up to the window. Fortunately, after a long, hot wait in the crowded line, crushed up against people from all sides, I was able to get a pair of tickets. They weren't the greatest seats, but the lady at the window said they were the best she had available.

By the time I'd secured the tickets, it was already past 2 o'clock. Natalie usually gets home from work around 6, so I knew I barely had enough time to run all my errands.

Normally, my day's activities wouldn't take so long, but Natalie doesn't let me drive. I got in a little fender bender a few years ago, and since then she forbids me to get behind the wheel of a car. So it's the bus for me.

By the time 6 o'clock came around, I was exhausted from a long day of standing in line, grocery shopping, picking up Natalie's dry cleaning, and then rushing home to get the house spic and span.

Natalie came home at a quarter after 6. "I need a drink out here," she called as soon as she walked through the door.

"Hello, Natalie," I said as I deferentially handed her a vodka and tonic, made just the way she likes it. "You look very beautiful tonight," I fawned. "That suit is my favorite - you look gorgeous in it."

"Did you get the tickets?" she asked without even acknowledging my compliment.

I retrieved the tickets and handed them to her. She looked at them and frowned. "What the hell - these seats are in the peanut gallery!" She hauled off and slapped me hard across the face, sending my glasses flying.

"These are the best seats you could get?!?" she screamed. "How do you expect me to watch a concert from way back in the second tier?!? And what's Luke gonna say? He was looking forward to this concert, goddamn it; now I gotta tell him that my loser of a husband can't even pick up concert tickets right!"

"I-I'm sorry, Natalie," I stammered, bending over to pick up my glasses. "The lady at the ticket window said those were the best she could get."

Halfway through my sentence, she turned away from me and walked into the living room. I saw her take the cordless phone over to the couch. She sat down, lit a cigarette and started dialing, while I retreated to the kitchen to finish dinner.

"Hey, there, sexy thaaang," she drawled after her party had answered, and I knew she was talking to Luke. I stood quietly in the kitchen cutting up onions while my wife lounged on the couch like a teenager and talked to her lover.

"Well, the asshole got us seats in the second tier," I heard her say. I pricked up my ears. There was a pause. "Yeah, I know, he's a worthless chimp. But he's a sweetheart," she added with a giggle. Another pause. "Tomorrow? I've got the Harrison case - just wrapping up the paperwork - but after that I'm free.

"Sounds great. Oh, yeah, it sounds like a lot of fun! See ya tomorrow. Bye-bye!" She clicked off the phone.

I stayed busy in the kitchen while Natalie relaxed on the couch and watched the news. After awhile she called out to me.

"Brian. Make sure my blue shorts-outfit is ready and pack it in my overnight bag. Luke's taking me for a spin on his boat after work tomorrow. And get the suntan lotion. And make sure to pack my swimsuit, too."

I didn't say anything. My heart shivered.

Luke again.

It wasn't enough that she was out with him most every night; did she have to flaunt him in front of my face every waking hour? Every time she mentioned his name, I would burn inside.

My wife's agitated voice interrupted my contemplation.

"Excuse me - am I talking to the walls? Do you hear me talking to you?" I heard Natalie snap her fingers. "Get in here, Brian!"

Uh-oh. She was in another one of her "moods." Another tough day at work, and I was in for it again tonight!

I hurried into the living room and stood nervously before my reclining wife.

"I expect you to answer me when I'm talking to you," she began in an irritated tone. "Now, like I said: Luke is taking me on his boat tomorrow night. I want my blue shorts outfit ironed, and my bathing suit. And the suntan lotion. And pack towels. Did you understand that, loser, or is it too fucking deep for you?"

"Yes, Natalie. I-I'm sorry I didn't answer you sooner. I didn't hear you at first."

But I was talking to her hand as she held up her palm and said, "whatever. Get out of my face, creep. Just make sure my stuff is packed."

As I turned to leave, she called after me, "hey, creep, when's dinner gonna be ready? I'm starving!"

"It's almost done, Natalie; maybe ten more minutes."

"Good. Go." She picked up the remote control and continued flipping through the channels as I hurried off to finish her dinner.

I was full of resentment as I stood in front of the stove putting the finishing touches on Natalie's salad. She hadn't been home much lately, and I was hoping we could spend a nice Friday evening together for a change. But now she had plans with Luke. I kept picturing her out on the lake with her boyfriend...maybe making love in a secluded spot somewhere, rocking the boat...

After supper, Natalie picked up the phone and called her best friend Laura while I did the dishes. She was still gabbing on the phone when I went upstairs to get her clothes ready for the next day.

I'd just finished pressing her blue summer outfit when she called for me from her bedroom.

I hurried into the bedroom, where I found Natalie sitting naked on her overstuffed bed. She smiled at me devilishly and told me to kneel before her.

"Guess what, sweetheart? Naughty Natty is feeling kinda horny tonight, and there's no hunk around to keep her company. Ya know what that means?"

My spirits soared. Was she actually going to let me lick her tonight? It had been months!

When she laid back on the bed and spread her legs, I realized that indeed she was going to allow me the honor of licking her beautiful pussy!

She started playing with her pussy. I was mesmerized by the sight of her fingers softly caressing her sacred vagina. Natalie keeps her pubic hairs neatly trimmed; she says Luke likes it that way.

Natalie caught me staring at her pussy. She looked down at me, her lips curled up in a haughty half-smile.

"See, I'm not such a bitch after all, Brian. I'm going to let you lick me tonight. Isn't that nice of me? What has it been - a whole month since you last got to lick me?"

"It's been about four months, Natalie."

"Well, whatever. Crawl up here and do it."

"Thank you, Natalie. I love you," I said breathlessly as I climbed onto Natalie's huge bed and began worshipping her.

"Don't tell me you love me, toad - it'll ruin the mood," she said flippantly, slapping me upside the head.

After about 10 minutes, Natalie grabbed my hair and yanked hard, causing me to yelp in pain. Then she grabbed both of my ears and twisted them painfully back and forth as she rode my face to a powerful orgasm. I continued licking her softly as she came down from her climax. While I was nuzzling against her wet pussy, Natalie sighed and let a soft fart escape. I continued worshipping her as if in a dream.

"That's all," she said after a few minutes. I lifted my head from between her soft legs and looked up at her reverently.

"That was a good one, Brian." Natalie purred, patting me hard on top of my head. "I was fantasizing about me and Luke on the boat tomorrow! He was fucking me in the butt!" she added with a girlish squeal.

I felt like a hurt puppy. She looked down at me and smiled.

"Well, Brian, you finally got to lick my pussy, so I guess you're all set for another three or four months now, huh?"

"I-I don't know," I gulped. "Whatever you want, Natalie."

She rolled her eyes. "You've got to be the most spineless excuse for a man I've ever met in my life, Brian! Most men would stand up for themselves - at least once in awhile! But you..." She let her words trail off as she shook her head and laughed to herself.

"I guess there's just no hope for you," she said. "You're a doormat, Brian. I guess we all have our roles in life, and that's yours. So tell me: do you like being my doormat, Brian?"

I didn't know what to say. If I said yes, she would surely laugh at me. And if I said no, she would probably slap me.

I decided to take the safe route: "I just love you, Natalie, and I want to make you happy."

"Well, then, do you know what makes me happy?" she shot back. "What makes me happy, Brian, is a big, strong hunk of a man  - like Luke - who will take me in his arms...and sweep me off my feet...and pin me down...and ravish me! That's what makes me happy! I like it hard, Brian - just in case you were wondering. I like it looooooong and hard!"

Her eyes gleamed with the happy fires of Hell. She was on a roll now.

"You know what else I like, Brian?" She slapped me across the face and pinched my nose hard with her fingernails. "The fact that you're such a wuss that I fuck him whenever I want, right under your nose, and you don't do a goddamn thing about it! You just sit there and put up with it!

"How am I supposed to respect someone like that?" she continued, curling up her nose in disgust. "Tell me, Brian, how do you expect someone to give you any respect when you let them walk all over you?"

She hardly paused to take a breath as she continued badgering me. "Do you ever wonder why this isn't exactly a monogamous relationship? It's because you're pathetic, Brian...you're a loser! And I don't have time to mess around with losers."

I was getting that heavy feeling in my heart again. I never know how to react when my wife goes off on one of her tirades. I try my best not to cry. Usually I'm unsuccessful.

"I-I'm sorry, Natalie," I stammered. The tears were already beginning to well up in my throat. "Sometimes I just wish that we could have a normal relationship...you know, like a lot of other married couples...I really want to make you happy, but I get sad sometimes watching you go off with...with Luke." I could barely get his name past my lips. "I just wish I could give you what you need, so you wouldn't have to go...you know...go to him," I said sadly.

Natalie busted out giggling. "Yeah, right! You couldn't satisfy a Barbie doll, Brian, and you know it! I think you'd better stick with the things you know best: like cooking...and cleaning...and washing out my nylons...you know, all that fun domestic stuff that you like to do so much! Oh, Luke is fantastic in the bedroom, don't get me wrong - but no one washes out a pair of panties the way you do, honey! You use just the right amount of fabric softener to make all my clothes smell April fresh! And you're just the best damn shoe-shine boy I've ever seen in my life! So don't worry about Luke. Let's just say he has his strengths, and you have yours."

She reached down and tousled my hair. "Don't worry, Brian. I don't know what I'd do without you. I know I can be a real bitch sometimes, and I swear, I don't know how in the hell you put up with me!"

This was as close to a "thank you" as I've ever gotten from Natalie. I felt like I was glowing. I'm always supremely grateful for any morsel of praise she decides to throw my way.

"Thank you, Natalie. I really want you to be happy," I gushed.

"Well, I am happy," she yawned. "Now get out of here and let me go to sleep. That'll make me happy, Brian. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow."

I shuffled across the plush bedroom carpet and softly closed the door behind me.

 

Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave, part 3 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

Today was a relatively relaxing day. Natalie was going boating with Luke tonight, so there was no rush to get my chores done on time.

I spent a good part of the day taking care of the little things I usually don't have time to do. I thoroughly scrubbed out the refrigerator and polished all the silverware. I also caught up on all Natalie's hand-washables. There was a huge pile of dirty lingerie and nylons, and I spent a good two hours painstakingly hand-washing my beautiful wife's lacy unmentionables.

At first I tried to ignore the crusty yellowish stains that marked a few pairs of her underwear, but how could I? It's hard to overlook someone else's cumstains on your wife's panties. But I just tried to block it and finish my washing.

I finished with my daily chores around 5, then went down to my room to rest awhile. I knew Natalie would be getting off work shortly, and soon she'd be out on the water with Luke. I secretly hoped that it would rain so maybe she would come home early, but no such luck: it was a gorgeous, sunny day, without a cloud in the sky.

Maybe I'd get lucky and Luke would fall out of the boat and drown!

I met Luke once, at a work function Natalie dragged me to. She usually doesn't let me come to her "lawyer parties", but this time she brought me with her for some reason. As soon as I laid eyes on the tall, handsome man standing assuredly on the other side of the room, I knew it was him. Luke spotted me gawking at him and winked at me. After a few minutes, Natalie made her way over to him and they sat on the couch, engrossed  in conversation. I stewed at the bar for the rest of the night while they laughed and enjoyed each other's company.

Luke is one of the rising stars in the New Hampshire prosecutors office. He's as sharp as my Natalie, and tall and handsome, to boot. Even I have to admit; they make a perfect couple.

Luke knows all about our strange marriage. He calls the house all the time for Natalie, and when I answer, he really goes out of his way to embarrass me.

He called for her one day last week...

"Hey, Brian, where's that sexy little wife of yours?" he drawled. "Wait - before you get her, do me a favor. I want you to be sure Natty wears those black silk panties to work tomorrow, okay? The French-cut pair, with the paisley lace. Those are my favorites! You know the ones I'm talking about. Pick them out for her and tell her I wanted her to wear them. You think you can handle that, Brian?"

"Uh..." I couldn't get any sound out. Luke took my silence as a yes.

"Good! I'm glad you're being so...cooperative," he chuckled. "Now go get my little Natalie-poo and tell 'er daddy's on the phone."

Luke's calls would always put me into a deep depression. It got to the point where I jumped every time the phone rang.

I read a book for a few hours until my eyes got tired. From my bed, I could see the day's last sunrays beaming through the basement window. It would be dark soon, and they probably wouldn't stay out on the water after dark...

I took a nap, and when I woke up it was past 10. She still wasn't home. I sat in my room with my ears pricked, listening for the sound of her Mercedes pulling up in the driveway. I stayed up until four in the morning waiting for my wife to come home, but she never did. Eventually, I cried myself back to sleep.

* * *

Natalie returned home just after 10 o'clock Saturday afternoon. Her face was slightly burned from her afternoon in the sun. She was still wearing the blue shorts-outfit I'd pressed for her the day before.

"Go get my bag from the car," was the first thing she said to me when she came in.

When I returned with her bag, Natalie was talking on the phone to somebody. "Okay, I'll see you in a minute," she said, then clicked off the phone.

"Laura's coming over for breakfast, Brian, so get busy in the kitchen," she announced as she leafed through her mail. "I want Eggs Benedict and hash browns. Bring me a glass of orange juice first, though."

I fetched Natalie's juice, then started cooking her favorite breakfast. After a few minutes, I heard Laura come in, and they sat at the dining room table talking while I fixed their meal.

Laura is kind of a stuck-up bitch - which would explain why my wife gets along with her so well! She only lives a few blocks away, and she comes over two or three times a week.  Natalie brags to her all the time about our uneven relationship, and Laura thinks it's just the coolest thing! She's always riding me about being pussy-whipped. That's what Laura calls me: P.W.

I served my wife and her friend breakfast while they chatted, ignoring me completely. Natalie was telling Laura about her date with Luke last night.

"So we finally ended up at his place," Natalie was saying while I poured the coffee. "Another marathon, baby!"

Laura shifted forward in her chair, interested. "How many times?" she asked.

Natalie sipped her coffee and smiled impishly. She held up five fingers.

Laura squealed. "You did it five times?!? My God - you guys are sex fiends!"

Natalie leaned back, tossed down her napkin dramatically and heaved a loud sigh. "Well, Laura, you know what they say: a hard man is good to find!"

They both giggled. Suddenly Natalie looked up at me, irritated.

"What are you doing eavesdropping on our conversation?!? Don't you have some clothes to wash or something?"

"Y-yes, Natalie, I'm sorry," I stammered as I retreated from the dining room.

"Boy, now THAT'S the way you're supposed to train 'em!" I heard Laura exclaim as I left the room. "I just can't get over it! P.W. to the max! How in the world do you do it, Natalie?"

 

Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave, part 4 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

Well, I knew this day would come eventually. But that still doesn't make it any easier to swallow.

Natalie sure didn't give me much notice. She broke the terrible news to me one hot Sunday morning.

"I was talking with Luke yesterday," she said archly as I handed her the Sunday paper. "He's intrigued with you, Brian. He can't understand how you can be such a wuss." She flashed her teeth at me. "He says it turns him on."

She scanned her paper for a moment while I stood there like a mule. Finally, Natalie turned her attention back to me.

"Anyway, I was talking to him about it, and we thought it would be nice if he came over for dinner tonight. He wants to get to know you better, Brian. Do you think you could whip up something nice for dinner tonight?"

My mind reeled. I felt like I was going to throw up!

"C'mon, Brian. It's not exactly like this is a surprise or anything. Besides, I want you to accept Luke. You just have to get to know him better; he's really a sweetheart!" she giggled.

I felt I had to fight this somehow. "Natalie, please don't make me do this," I croaked.

She curled her lip. "Listen, I'm not making you do anything. You could've walked away from this a long time ago, Brian. But if you don't want to see Luke tonight, that's fine with me. Pack up and go! I'll have Luke draw up the divorce papers Monday!"

I couldn't say anything. She'd won again, and we both knew it.

Finally, in a defeated voice, I mumbled, "I'm sorry, Natalie. Please don't do that...I'll try to make you happy. I don't mind if....if he...comes over tonight."

"Oh, it won't be just tonight," she shot back triumphantly. "You can plan on Luke spending a lot of time over here from now on. A lot of time..." A secret smile crossed her pretty face as she folded up her newspaper.

"Well, Brian, now that we've got that out of the way, you have a lot of work to do. I want this place spotless by the time he gets here tonight. I want everything to sparkle! He'll be here around 7, so I suggest you get moving."

*  *  *

I was exhausted. I'd spent the entire day scrubbing down the whole house, and every joint in my body was sore.

But I felt even worse inside.

I've known about Natalie's infidelities from the start. How could I not have known? She's flaunted her extracurricular activities all along.

But tonight was going to be something new altogether. I kept hoping that maybe I was in the middle of some crazy dream, and that I'd wake up.

Natalie didn't help matters much. She was in a great mood all day. She told me that she had been looking forward to this for a long time, and she acted like a schoolgirl on prom night.

She had me give her a long foot massage before she took a shower. While I knelt at my wife's feet, we had a long, serious discussion about our relationship.

"Does it make you sad that Luke is coming over tonight, Brian?" she teased as I vigorously rubbed lotion into her foot.

"I-I don't know," I stammered. "Uh, yes...it does make me very sad, Natalie. I don't understand why...why things have to be like this."

Natalie leaned back in her recliner and studied my downtrodden face for a moment. After a long pause, she spoke.

"You knew I was an evil bitch when you married me, Brian," she began. "And, besides, I know you like it! Otherwise, you'd have left me a long time ago. You don't fool me, Brian. I've had you figured out from the start! You're a person who enjoys being used and abused. And I'm just the kind of bitch who will do it to you! So quit complaining - you ought to be happy I keep your sorry ass around!"

I didn't respond to her cutting words. I just lowered my head and continued massaging my wife's foot as she sat back in her chair with a dreamy look in her eyes.

Our conversation ended as Natalie turned her attention to the television.

After about a half-hour, Natalie dismissed me. "That's enough. Go get my clothes ready. I put my outfit on the bed; it needs to be ironed. And make sure the candles in my bedroom are lit, Brian, and put the silk sheets on the bed - I want tonight to be totally romantic."

While I ironed the miniskirt Natalie was planning to wear, she called Laura and chatted for awhile. I strained to hear her conversation from my post in the laundry room. She was telling Laura all about her plans for the evening.

"Guess who's coming to dinner?" I heard Natalie say. "Yeah, I'm having him over tonight! I just told the creep this morning," she added proudly.

"Hell no, he didn't say anything!" she continued. "He knows better than to say anything - his loser ass will be out on the street in a heartbeat!"

She continued talking to Laura for awhile. Finally, at about 6 o'clock, Natalie hung up the phone and started getting ready for her lover. I heard her turn on the shower, then she began singing tunelessly over the sound of the running water. My soul ached. Did she have to be so goddamned happy?

When Natalie finished her shower, she hollered down for me to put in her Madonna CD and turn it up. While the buoyant, fluffy songs rang out mockingly throughout the house, Natalie finished getting ready for Luke.

I stood in the hallway downstairs, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked deep into my own eyes and tried to find an answer. I had no idea what was going to happen tonight. Why was she doing this? How did my life get so crazy? Why do I love her so much?

Why does she hate me so much?

At about 7:30, the doorbell rang. I was trembling. The witching hour was at hand!

"Go get that," Natalie called from upstairs. "It's probably him."

With my heart stuck in my gills, I opened the front door. My wife's aristocratic lover stood in the doorway.

"Well, hey there, stud-boy," he jeered, brushing past me into the house before I even had a chance to invite him in. "How's it hangin'? Where's my little luv-bunny?"

I gulped. "S-she's upstairs getting ready. Uh, do you want something to drink...or something?"

Luke cocked his head flashed me a look of triumph. "Yeah, Brian, you can run and fetch me a cold beer, if you have one." His tone of voice indicated that he already knew where he stood in this relationship. I scurried off to the kitchen to get Luke's beer, thinking that it sure didn't take him long to establish his turf!

When I returned, cold beer in hand, Luke was sitting on the couch. After he took the can (without thanking me), he leaned back on the couch and took a long, invigorating drink. I stood by the couch, unsure of what to do next.

Then Natalie made her grand entrance. I gasped audibly - I'd never seen her look so gorgeous! The sexy red minidress I'd ironed earlier pinched her supple frame perfectly. Her matching red "fuck-me" pumps clicked musically across the wood floor as she flashed Luke a sensuous smile and started walking slowly down the stairs.

Luke let out a loud wolf-whistle. "Wow, you look FAN-tastic, Natty!" He jumped up and met Natalie at the foot of the stairs. He grabbed the back of her head forcefully and stuck his tongue in her mouth. My wife melted.

I felt like an intruder in my own home. I didn't want to just stand there and watch, but what else was I supposed to do? At first, I tried to avert my gaze, but I kept looking back up at Natalie and her boyfriend, passionately French-kissing on the stairs. He was rubbing his hands all over her back, down her dress, over her butt, back up through her hair. My temples were pounding as I watched this man touch Natalie in a way I've never known.

Finally, they broke their embrace and walked hand-in-hand over to the couch. After they sat down, they turned their attention to me. I felt naked as they both stared at me with conspiratorial smiles on their faces. I just stood dumbly in the middle of the living room with my arms plastered to my sides, hoping to die.

Luke was the first to speak. "Brian, I was talking to your wife the other day...we were talking about you, as a matter of fact. We were wondering something: doesn't it bother you that I'm fucking her, and you're not?"

Natalie giggled and snuggled closer to her lover. They exchanged bemused glances.

"I just want her to be happy," I answered in a dull, defeated voice.

Luke put his arm around Natalie possessively and smiled at me. "Well, Brian, that's a lofty goal. It's good for you to want to make your wife happy. It's awfully big of you, I think."

Natalie purred like a cat and put her hand on Luke's muscular chest. She looked up at her lover. "He's really a good little hubby, Luke. He's so faithful....and loyal..."

"Yeah, Brian, Natalie tells me you're a real sweetheart!" Luke said to me. "She says you even iron her panties before she goes out on a date with me!"

"That's not all he does - is it, Brian?" Natalie smiled evilly at me, then turned to Luke. "He even washes out my underwear AFTER we go out!"

They both cackled. Then Luke looked up at me and smiled arrogantly.

"Brian, you might as well get used to it: me and little Natalie-poo here got a thing goin' on, and we don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I know you're a spineless little wimp, so don't even try to hide it. This is how it's going to be from now on, Brian, and if you don't like it, you can leave - you got that?"

I lowered my eyes and whispered, "uh-huh. I-I understand." I wasn't even sure what it was I was agreeing to...I just knew I didn't have the strength to try to fight this man. Natalie guffawed loudly at her boyfriend's effortless control.

Luke continued laying down the law. "I want you to get one thing straight: there's only room for one man in this household from now on - and you're looking at him. The only reason Natalie doesn't divorce your ass and marry me is that we think it's more fun this way. She likes having you around to do all her housework, Brian, but make no mistake about it: she doesn't love you. She loves me." He turned to Natalie. "Tell him, honey," he said. "Who do you love?"

"Well, what do you think?" she asked coyly. "Baby, I've been in love with you since the first time I saw you!"

Luke shot me a smug look as my wife scooted up to him to give him a kiss. "Love is a many splendored thing, Brian," he said, draping his arm around Natalie's shoulder. "Aren't you happy that your wife has found that special someone to share it with?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, Luke delivered the knockout punch.

"I might as well tell you now, Brian: after I finish this case I'm working on, I'm going to be moving in here. Your wife and I have talked about it a lot, and that's what we both want. We have big plans for you, Brian. From now on, if you want to keep Natalie happy, you're going to have to work very hard to keep me happy, too."

I was horrified! I looked beseechingly at Natalie, praying she would tell me this was some kind of  joke. But one glimpse at my wife told me this was no joke. I felt my stomach churning. How could this be happening? They'd obviously been planning this for some time. How could she do this to me? The worst part is, I had to hear it from Luke!

Natalie clucked her tongue. "Awwww, don't look so sad, honey. Just think: When Luke moves in here, I'll be really happy - and that's what you say you want most of all...to make me happy. Isn't it?"

I could tell by the gleam in her eye: she knew I was defeated.

"Don't you want me to be happy, Brian?" she repeated.

I started to cry. "Y-yes, Natalie. I want to make you happy," I blubbered. "I want to make you happy..."

She leaned back and smiled mischievously. "Well, then, Brian, here's what I want you to do. I want you to go kneel in front of Luke and ask him if he'll please make me happy by moving in with me!"

I managed to drop to my knees in front of the smirking Luke. "W-will you make Natalie happy and...and  move in?" I intoned.

"Will I make her happy and move in...WHAT?" Luke demanded.

I caught on. "Will you make Natalie happy and move in...sir?"

"That's right. Always call me sir," Luke said firmly. "I demand respect, wimp, and you damn well better give it to me."

"Yes, sir," I answered quietly.

Luke sat up and clapped his hands. "Okay, then! I think I'm going to grant your request, Brian. After I've finished with this case, I'll be moving in here. It'll be about a week or so. I think this is gonna work out," he said, caressing my wife's exposed thigh. "From what Natalie tells me, someone has to keep her company at night!"

They fell over each other laughing.

"Al-righty, then," Natalie said after their tittering died down. "Why don't you go check on dinner, Brian, and give us a little privacy in here?"

As I turned and shuffled off to the kitchen, I could hear their wet victory kiss behind me.

As directed by Luke, I stood in the corner with my hands folded in front of me while my wife and her lover enjoyed their romantic, candle-lit dinner. Luke obviously got off treating me like a slave: from the moment he entered our home, he took the reigns firmly in hand. I guess he sensed immediately that I was totally intimidated by him.

Natalie was breaking my heart. All through their meal, she sat staring at Luke, enthralled...laughing at his jokes...hanging on his every word. I stood there like a sap and watched my wife fall in love with another man right before my eyes.

Finally, when they were finished eating, Luke looked up at me. "Brian, did you put nice, clean sheets on the bed before I got here? It's time for me and Natalie-poo to go make a little boom-boom, and I don't want to have to make love to this beautiful woman on dirty sheets!"

"Y-yes, sir, I just put clean sheets on the bed this morning," I said sadly.

Suddenly, without warning, Luke stood up and scooped my wife up into his muscular arms. Natalie kicked her legs and squealed as her burly lover held her close to his body.

"Time for bed, you sexy little bitch!" Luke said to my wife. She threw her head back and reveled in her lover's control.

"Don't wait up for us," Natalie called over her shoulder as Luke began carrying her up the stairs. "We'll call you in the morning for our breakfast!"

Luke stopped halfway up the stairs, and looked over the banister at me. "Come on up here, Brian, and give your wife a good-night kiss," he ordered.

I approached the stairs apprehensively. "Come on, she won't bite!" Luke taunted. He was still holding her effortlessly in his arms. I tiptoed up the stairs and kissed my wife lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you, Brian," she cooed sweetly. "You're such a good little puppy!"

Luke laughed and blew me a kiss. "Now, you go on to bed, little fag," he told me. "Don't you worry about us: I believe we've got matters well taken care of."

"Y-yes, sir," I mumbled. I watched in anguished silence as Luke turned away from me and carried my wife the rest of the way up the stairs. He carried her into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

 

Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave, part 5 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

On Thursday afternoon, Luke called me from work.

"Brian, we're wrapping up the Neilson case today," he said. "So I want you to get busy moving my stuff over from the apartment. I want everything done by this weekend, so I suggest you hop the bus down here and pick up the key to my apartment. I'll leave it with my secretary." Without another word, he hung up on me.

I spent the entire weekend moving Luke's stuff. For a bachelor, Luke sure did have a lot of shit! He must've had 10 bookcases full of legal books in his library. And he has almost as many clothes as Natalie! Rows of expensive suits hung in his closet - and he has a pair of shoes to match each suit.

Luckily, Natalie waived her "no-driving" rule for the weekend and allowed me to rent a moving van. Thank God - I can't imagine how long it would've taken to move everything if I had to take the bus!

Luke didn't help at all. He didn't pack any of his stuff; I had to do everything. Friday night, while I arduously sorted through everything and put his belongings into boxes, Luke and my wife went out for dinner and dancing. Luke spent the night at our house, while I slept on the couch at Luke's apartment.

It took two days of exhausting work, but by early Sunday evening I had everything moved into our house. There wasn't enough space in the closets upstairs for all Luke's clothes, so he commandeered my closet in the basement. My clothes were relegated to a box under my bed.

My life changed immediately after Luke moved in. I had to get used to waiting on Luke hand and foot now, as well as Natalie. Luke reveled in his role as king of this new household, and he demanded to be treated accordingly. He's very bit as vain and arrogant as Natalie, with the same unwavering air of superiority about him.

I love Natalie, so it's easier to put up with her bitchiness. But having to accept Luke's frequent slaps across my face is another thing. It's only been a little while since he moved in, but my spirit has been completely broken. I'm afraid to look at Luke or Natalie in the eyes anymore, and I try to avoid Luke whenever possible.

For a man who is so meticulous in his dress, Luke is an absolute slob around the house! Since he moved in, my workload has doubled. He just throws shit everywhere - then Natalie gets mad at me if there's a wet towel left in the bathroom, or if his underwear are left on the floor. I struggle to pick up after him constantly.

Luke keeps leaving the toilet seat up, which annoys Natalie something fierce. So now it's my job to make sure the seat is down after Luke goes to the bathroom. He always seems to splash a little urine on the rim of the toilet when he goes, and I have to make sure that's wiped up, too.

But it's not just the extra work that bothers me. Ever since Luke moved in, Natalie has been treating me even worse than she did before. She sees the lewd things Luke does to me, and that prompts her to go even further. They both seem to feed off each other's cruelty. It's like they try to out-do each other by thinking of new, outrageous ways to shame me.

One night after Natalie took her shower, she walked naked into the bedroom toweling her wet hair. I was on my knees in the walk-in closet vigorously polishing Natalie's shoes, while Luke was lying on the bed reading. When my wife came into the room, I lifted my head and drank in the magnificence of her limber powdered body. Unfortunately, Luke caught me gawking at her.

"Hey, I think the fag likes looking at your kitty," Luke said, laughing. "He's been staring a hole right through your pussy, Natalie!"

My wife looked over at me and sneered. "Well, him stare...that's all the pussy the little homo is ever gonna get!"

They both cracked up. Natalie sauntered slowly toward me until her pussy was right in front of my face.

"Look, honey," she said to me, prying open the soft pink lips of her sacred vagina. She was so close I could smell the shampoo on her freshly-washed hair.

Natalie grabbed me by the ears and pulled my face even closer. "Can you smell it, wimp? How long has it been since you've got to put that little dick inside this pussy? Tell Luke how long it's been!"

"Uh...it's been three years, sir" I could barely whisper.

"And tell Luke why I don't let you have sex with me, Brian," she continued badgering me.

"Uh...because...because I slobber all over her, sir" I told the smirking Luke.

Natalie clapped her hands in sarcastic applause. "That's right, Brian! Because you slobber all over me! I don't like having sex with wimps, Brian - and you're the biggest wussy of them all, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, Natalie."

Luke feigned sympathy. "Awwww, it's a damn shame the faggot doesn't ever get to have sex. It just isn't fair! Wouldn't you like to have sex at least once in awhile, Brian?"

"Uh...y-yes, sir, I would," I droned.

"Well, we'll have to see if we can't fix that," he said mysteriously.

What was he up to? He certainly wasn't concerned about my lack of a sex life, I knew that! But he had something in mind.

I found out what it was a couple days later when Luke came home from work carrying a large box.

"This is a present for you, Brian," he said. Natalie was curious; she didn't know what was in the package either.

I opened the box apprehensively. My heart sank when I was the contents of the package: it  was a plastic blow-up love doll!

Natalie laughed until the tears were streaming down her face when she saw the absurd doll, with its mouth puckered up into a wide "o". Luke stood by with his hands on his hips, smiling broadly.

"Her name's Lu-Lu," Luke declared. "Go ahead, Brian: blow 'er up."

I felt like I was going to die from embarrassment. As my wife and her boyfriend looked on, I began blowing up the ridiculous-looking doll.

When it was completely inflated, Luke snapped his fingers.

"You know what to do next: show us how a real man makes love, Brian," Luke chortled. He grabbed Natalie's hand and they both sat on the couch, getting comfortable for the show. "Show us how it's done, queer," Luke said. "Maybe you can teach me a thing or two!"

I closed my eyes and slowly began to mount the doll. "Not yet, you asshole," Natalie interrupted. "You're forgetting about foreplay! Don't you know anything about women, you dickless little wimp? A woman likes to be caressed...and held...and licked from head to toe. That's what a woman likes. Now do it right, Brian, and stop thinking about your own little peter!"

Fighting to hold back tears, I began to kiss the plastic doll all over. I tried to block out the squeals of laughter coming from Natalie and Luke as I began sensuously kissing and licking the doll's synthetic skin.

"Lick her ass, Brian," Luke called out. "Get your nose dirty!"

"Give her a nice plastic-butt French kiss," Natalie piped in.

"Now whisper sweet nothings in her ear," Luke instructed. "Tell her you love her!"

After about 10 minutes of "foreplay," I suddenly felt my balls start to tense up. I knew it was coming, and I tried to stop it. But I couldn't. Without even touching myself, I had a powerful orgasm!

While I was spewing my pent-up frustrations all over the carpet, Luke reached down and snatched the doll away. He angrily pulled the air plug, and Lu-Lu started to deflate.

"You have got to be the sorriest piece of shit I've ever seen in my life!" Luke said, shaking his head. "A premature ejaculation - with a goddamn love doll! You blew it, Brian. From now on, you aren't even allowed to fuck Lu-Lu - how's that, you little faggot?"

"I guess it just isn't in the cards, is it, Brian?" Natalie giggled. "Now clean up your mess and get out of here, you pathetic homo!"

I broke down and cried.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," Part 6 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

Saturday afternoon - garage-cleaning day. I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the clammy concrete floor when Natalie hollered for me to come into the house.

I wiped my hands and rushed in to see what she wanted. I found my wife sitting in the breakfast nook with her best friend, Laura.

"Yes, honey?" I asked her as I humbly approached them.

Natalie crinkled up her nose and turned to Laura. "I hate it when he calls me 'honey.'"

Without warning, my wife whipped around toward me and cocked her palm back back as if she were going to slap me. I instinctively cringed, but the blow never came. Laura busted out giggling.

Natalie let her hand dangle in the air while I cowered before her. She looked at her friend and shook her head.

"Pathetic."

Natalie peered over the brim of her glass at me, her eyes a study in mischeif. With great dramatics, she loudly sipped the last of her drink. "Brian, I don't want you using those dirty little terms of endearment in front of guests!" she chided. "You've simply got to stop calling me 'honey' - it's embarrassing! Why, you're gonna make Laura here think that I actually care about you or something!

"And besides," she added with an impish glint, "if you keep it up, you're gonna make Luke jealous!"

That made Laura laugh even harder.

Natalie held out her glass. "Refill," she said regally. "Laura's, too."

Off I dashed to fetch my wife and her friend fresh glasses of iced tea.

They were engaged in conversation when I returned with the refreshments, so after I served the drinks, I took the hint and retreated to the garage to continue my cleaning.

Cleaning the garage is one of my least-favorite duties. I have to thoroughly scrub it down every Saturday, whether it needs it or not. Usually it doesn't even need cleaning. I mean, how dirty can a garage get when you clean it once a week?

But that's Luke's rule. One time I forgot to clean the garage floor after I washed his car, and he slipped on some soap suds. After he beat me severely, he ordained that from then on I was to clean the garage every single week.

Oh, well. So it has been written...so it shall be done. At least that's the way it goes around here.

I have to follow all kinds of crazy rules like that. Some of them just don't make any sense.

For instance, Natalie insists that I color-coordinate all her clothes when I hang them up in the closet! It takes a lot of extra time to do it that way - but that's the way Little Miss Priss wants it.

And Luke has an idiosyncrasy I'm still trying to get used to: he absolutely HATES for a television to be left on when nobody's in the room. I don't know why this bugs him so much, but I can't tell you how many times he's slapped me in the face (or worse) because the TV was left on. I can be out mowing the lawn and they'll be inside watching television -  but if they end up leaving the room, eventually Luke is going to notice the TV and get pissed.

With all the chores I have to do, it's impossible to keep a constant eye on the TV situation too. But, oh well. So it has been written...

It took about an hour to finish up in the garage. Luke was out golfing, so I'd have to wait till tomorrow to wash his car - and then I'd have to clean up the garage again when I was done! I sighed as I put the bucket and scrub-brush away. Off to go do the laundry now. My work is never done...

I was seperating the whites from the colors when Natalie called for me.

I found her lounging in the living room watching television. Laura apparently had gone home.

"Brian, Luke will be back soon, and I want to surprise him," she said. "Hurry up and put the scented candles in the bedroom, and then go iron my white baby-doll. I'll be in the shower. Go!"

I rushed around like a madman trying to make everything perfect before Luke returned from his golf outing. As instructed, I lit two lilac-scented candles and put them on the nightstand. Then I lowered the lights and tuned their stereo to the cool jazz station they like to listen to when they're making "boom-boom," as they call it.

After I turned their bedroom into the perfect little love nook, I carefully ironed my wife's sexy baby-doll. It was silk so I had to set the iron on low, which made it harder to get the wrinkles out.

When everything was finished, I reported to Natalie in the master bathroom. She was standing naked in front of the mirror applying her makeup. She was really putting it on heavy today! She looked like a tart! If only her co-workers at the firm could see her now! The famous No-Nonsense Assistant Prosecutor was painting herself up like a common street whore!

I rubbed lotion on her legs and butt while she continued doing her makeup. After Natalie was all dolled up, I helped her into her freshly-ironed nightie. Then she walked into the adjoining bedroom and opened up her dresser drawer. Pulling out a pen and a piece of stationery, she scrawled a quick note:

    Tiger-bear:

    I'm waiting for you in the bedroom. Meow! Come and get it!

 

"Tiger-bear." That's Natalie's pet name for Luke - "Because he's part Siberian tiger and part grizzly bear," she once told me. Every time she calls him that it makes my skin crawl. Neither of them seem to notice, though.

After Natalie finished writing, she planted a perfect lipstick kiss on the bottom of the note. She then instructed me to go kneel by the front door and hold the note between my teeth.

"And you better not slobber all over my note, creep - or I'll tell Luke to bust your ass!" she added as I was leaving the room.

I felt ridiculous as I knelt in the foyer with Natalie's love note dangling out of my mouth. It was difficult to hold the paper between my teeth without getting it wet. And my knees were beginning to ache from kneeling on the uneven flagstone floor...

I stayed in that position for about 15 minutes before Luke finally came home. As soon as he spotted me, his face broke into a wide smile. He snatched the note from my mouth and scanned it, his shit-eating grin getting larger every second. Without a word, he crumpled up the letter, tossed it to the floor, then made a bee-line upstairs to the bedroom.

I leaned over and sadly picked up the balled-up piece of paper. I opened it and looked at my wife's smeared lipstick print: a kiss that wasn't meant for me...

...but I can always pretend...

I raised the piece of paper slowly up to my lips and tenderly kissed my darling wife's painted mouth...and then she put her arms around me...and I could feel her breath in my ear...

A loud moan from upstairs snapped me out of my impossible dream. It sounded like Luke was killing her up there - he must've really put it in deep that time!

I knew she was horny tonight, but she sounded like a damned alley-cat! Her piercing wails of, "Oh, God! Oh, my God!" seemed to go on forever, and I wondered if the neighbors could hear. I doubt if Natalie even cared.

Finally, I heard her reach her climax, and then all was quiet again. I waited with my ears pricked. They usually call for me right after they have sex.

"Briiiiiaaaaaaannnnn!" Sure enough, my wife was hollering for me. They probably wanted something to drink. I rushed up the stairs to find out.

"Bring us both a glass of wine, Brian," she said as soon as I opened the door.

They're so predictable!

 

Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave, part 7 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

"Hey, shitface...go get me another iced tea!"

Without thinking, I automatically stopped polishing the mantle and rushed to obey to my wife's command. As I passed Luke, who was relaxing on the couch watching television, he stuck his leg out right in my path. I didn't see it and I tumbled to the carpet with a dull thud.

"Clumsy asshole!" my wife berated me. She evidently hadn't seen Luke trip me. "Get up off the floor and go get me my drink, dick-for-brains! Move!"

As I regained my feet, Luke shot me a wink. He snapped his fingers loudly.

"When you're finished falling all over the place, Brian, fetch me another one, too," he said, holding his empty glass up and tinkling the ice lightly.

I returned with the two drinks and presented them to my masters. By now Natalie was reclining on the sofa with her legs draped across Luke's thighs. Luke was absent-mindedly rubbing my wife's jean-covered hip while they both watched television.

Natalie, not moving an inch, held her hand out expectantly. I hurried up and placed the drink right into her waiting hand. Then, much to my surprise, Luke took the initiative to lean up and take his drink from the tray I was holding. Perky him! Master Luke actually got off his lazy ass to get his own drink! Will the miracles never cease?

Just as I started walking toward the kitchen with the empty tray, my wife's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Brian, what are you doing tonight?"

I turned toward my wife respectfully. "Uh...I still have all the clothes to iron...and I was going to start on the attic tonight, too," I said. "Right now, I have to finish dusting, if that's all right."

"No, it's not all right," she answered in her usual bitchy tone of voice. "All that shit can wait. Tonight we're going to need your full attention."

Natalie then informed me that Laura was due to visit tonight, and - as she put it - "anything might happen."

I had a pretty good idea what that meant.

Luke had been hot on the idea of a threesome for some time, and Natalie seemed quite open to the suggestion herself. The question was, who could they get? Being high-profile attorneys affiliated with the state prosecutor's office, they couldn't let just anybody into their little fantasy world. They had to be careful.

Laura was the perfect solution. She already knew about our unique living situation, and she was someone they could both trust. Plus, Laura had an obvious kinky side...a sort of glint in her eye...

Eventually, Natalie took a chance and told her friend about Luke's threesome idea. To my wife's great relief, Laura said it sounded "very interesting." As it turns out, Laura had a few bi-sexual experiences back in college. She wasn't at all shocked when my wife approached her about a threesome.

So tonight, Natalie told me, they all had plans to "talk about it." Or perhaps, she added, they might take it even further; the idea was to go into this with no pressure on anybody.

Dinner was to be on the table at 8 sharp, and I was told that I'd better be on my absolute best behavior. "If you fuck this up, I'll kill you," Luke said. I wasn't sure if he was exaggerating or not - but the look on his face told me I'd be ill-advised to try and find out.

By a quarter to 8, I had dinner just about finished. Luke suggested that I prepare some oysters, citing their qualities as an aphrodisiac. But Natalie vetoed the idea; she hates oysters! "They're slimy!" she says.

So Luke had me run out to the corner store and pick up some chocolates, which have also been known to wake up the sex endorphins. When I got back from the store, I set all the hors d'ovres on the living room table, then put the finishing touches on the main course: grilled swordfish in lemon sauce.

Laura arrived a little after 8. They didn't say much in the way of greeting. The sexual tension was thick as I served the meal. The situation was a little awkward, but Luke didn't waste any time breaking the ice.

"So...tell me, Laura: are you going to make all my dirty little fantasies come true?" Luke asked as he sipped his wine.

A very slight smile crept across Laura's face. "I dunno, honey...are you going to make MY fantasies come true?" she asked coyly.

"Touche', you two," my wife piped in. "I have a few fantasies of my own, you know."

I tried not to be too obtrusive as I served the vegatables. No one seemed to notice me, thank goodness.

Luke couldn't stop smiling. "Okay, so we've established that all have fantasies. The question is: what are we going to do about them?"

"You guys are the big-shot lawyers," Laura joked back. "Isn't it your job to convince the jury?"

That was all it took. Luke pushed his chair back and in one quick motion swept the shrieking Laura right out of her seat.

"All right, smart-ass, let's go!" Luke said as he lifted Laura into his strong arms. "I'm taking you to the bedroom where I can show you Exhibit A. Come on, Natty," he added. "What are we waitin' for? We're wasting time out here! Dinner can wait!"

I was astonished! It sure didn't take Luke long to make his move! I was in awe of this man - the unquestioned Master of the Household. Once again, the reality of his utter superiority hit home. He's so confident in everything he does! How I wish I could be more like him!

"Go get the hot tub ready, Brian," my wife called out over her shoulder as she followed her lover and her friend into the bedroom. "Nice and hot, just the way I like it!"

"Y-yes, Mistress," I answered in my usual respectful tone.

My reply wasn't acknowledged. The threesome did a conga dance into the bedroom without so much as a glance back. After they shut the door, I hurriedly cleared off the dining room table, then put the food back in the oven to keep it warm. After that, I scurried off to get the hot tub ready.

About a half-hour later, the three emerged from the bedroom. Natalie was totally naked; Laura still had on her bra and panties, while Luke was wearing his blue bathrobe.

As they passed me in the hallway, Luke reached out and slapped me hard against the back of my head. "Wake up, fag-boy; we're gonna need a little motivation in here. So limber up those pretty little lips: Mr. Longbone needs a little licky-poo!" He was obviously showing off for the girls.

Natalie and Laura laughed at Luke's cruelty. Then Laura decided to join in on the fun.

"Look how pathetic he is," she sneered, gesturing toward me in disgust. "What a wimp! When was the last time this wuss got laid, Nat?"

"Hmm, good question. I don't know." Natalie pursed her lips. "How long has it been since you got your slimy little pee-pee wet, Brian?"

"Um...it's been about three-and-a-half years, Natalie," I mumbled, feeling hot under the amused stares bearing down on me.

Laura busted out giggling. "Three-and-a-half years!?" she squealed. "My God, what does he do for sex?"

Natalie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she answered matter-of-factly. "I suppose he plays with himself when we're not looking. I don't care what he does with his little pee-pee - as long as he keeps the house clean!"

"I wanna see his little dick!" Laura exclaimed, and my blood ran cold. "I wanna see if it's as small as you say it is, Natalie!"

Natalie grinned at her friend. "Oh, it's an inchy-winchy pencil-stub, all right," she said. "You heard her, Brian - show us your pee-pee!"

I was mortified, but what choice did I have? I closed my eyes and removed my penis from my pants.

Laura's laughter made me shrivel up even more.

"Oh my God, it looks like a cigarette butt!" she tittered. "It can't be more than 3 inches long!"

"Actually, it's closer to 2 inches," Natalie informed her, sounding like a tour guide.

"Well, no wonder he doesn't have much of a sex life!" Laura said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Shit, he probably couldn't satisfy a ladybug with that little thing!"

Just then, Luke took a menacing step toward me. "Hey, Brian, I've got an idea. The girls are curious about your sex life - well, why don't we show them exactly what your sex life consists of? Why don't you get me nice and hot and ready for these two beautiful women here?" He snapped his fingers and pointed at his crotch. "I believe you know what I'm talkin' about, dickhead!"

I took the cue and dropped to my knees. But Luke wasn't ready for me to blow him just yet; he turned around, grabbed the two ladies by their hands, and led them to the hot-tub. I followed them across the hardwood patio floor on my knees.

Once everyone was settled in the tub, I stripped and crawled into the water with them, as directed. I was only halfway into the tub when Luke grabbed me by the back of the head and guided my face down toward his crotch. I gasped as he submerged my head under the water, forcing me to lick his flaccid penis. He held me underwater firmly by the hair as I worked; every few minutes he would lift my head up, allowing me a millisecond to breathe before plunging my face down toward his genitals again.

Meanwhile, up above, my wife and her friend were kissing passionately. I'd never known Natalie to have bisexual fantasies - but then again, Luke has a way of bringing out the animal in her. Ever since he moved in with us, her inhibitions seem to have vanished.

Luke reached over and started playing with Laura's tit while Natalie inserted two fingers into Laura's pussy.

As Luke got more involved with the women, he thankfully let go of my hair. I was able to find a position where I could worship Luke's ever-hardening cock, while still maintaining my ability to breathe. Luke didn't say anything about my movement; he was busy elsewhere.

While I licked the underside of my master's penis, I snuck a glance up at him. How regal he looked! As he watched my wife and Laura get into a 69 position, he absent-mindedly put his hand back on my head and pressed down, prompting me to pay more attention to his g-spot. I gurgled as his strong hand forced my face under the water again.

After about 10 minutes, Luke suddenly yanked my hair by the roots, then shoved my head out of the way. The look on his face told it all: he was ready for action!

Natalie sat on Laura's face while Luke grabbed the blonde by the ankles and placed her heels on his broad shoulders. I managed to get a glimpse at Laura's pussy: it was neatly trimmed, with a light tuft of strawberry-golden pubic hair - a stark contrast to my Natalie's exquisite brunette bush.

Laura let out a wail as Luke's hammer hit home. As she continued to moan, her trembling lips brought my wife to a resounding orgasm. It didn't take Luke very long to blow his cookies either.

It was getting a little crowded in the hot tub, and I wasn't sure if I should stay in there. But I knew better than to leave. So I tried to stay out of their way, hugging the bottom wall of the tub as they all reached their orgasms.

After their moans and groans subsided, and the sloshing water died down, they all fell back into the water and stroked each other. They all looked exhausted.

"I'm hungry!" Natalie suddenly announced. She looked at me, finally acknowledging my presence. "Go get dinner ready, Brian. Have it ready in 10 minutes, I'm fucking starving!"

As I got out of the tub to obey my wife's orders, Luke called after me: "And dry yourself off first, dipshit! I don't want you dripping water all over the goddamn floor!"

"Yes, sir," I answered as I went to the closet, grabbed a towel, and dried myself, per Luke's instructions. They paid no attention to me as I scurried off to fetch dinner for the second time.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 8 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

BRRRRRRIIIIIIINGGGGGG!!!!

The alarm pierced my dreams like a sudden bolt of lightening. I stayed in bed trying to block out the hateful shrill. I just couldn't bring myself to open my eyes. Not just yet.

No good morning for me. Just another day in boot camp.

Oh, if only I could hit the sleep button and get just a few minutes' rest! But I knew better.

I felt my bones creak as I reluctantly sat up and arched my back. Another tough night on my cinder block of a mattress. I hate this fucking bed. It's like sleeping on a goddamn rock.

Of course, Miss Princess has a huge, overstuffed king-sized job in her room upstairs. I've laid on it a few times - it's like a cloud, so utterly soft and comfortable.

I looked around at the rest of my room. Pitiful.

Bums in flophouses probably have better quarters. My room is a far cry from the luxury suite my wife and Luke get to enjoy every night. Their huge bedroom...their silk sheets...their air conditioning...they take it all for granted. I have to share my already-tiny space with stacks of boxes and Natalie's bicycle. I sleep with my head by the dryer, and the smell of stale fabric softener and lint sticks in my nosehair at night.

It's terrible down here. In the summertime, it's muggy as hell. And in the winter, I freeze my ass off.

At least there's a window right above my bed. At night, when I'm lying here feeling sorry for myself, I sometimes look out into the evening sky and let the stars carry me away...

And wish that I could be the one upstairs snuggling up next to my wife...

And wish that someday Natalie will finally understand how much I love her...

And wish that Luke would choke to death on a chicken bone!

But this ain't Disneyland, not my life. And, like it or not, it was time to get started on my day.

I washed up in the laundry tub, then pulled the box containing my clothes out from under my bed. Before Luke moved in, I had use of the small closet in my room, but he threw all my clothes on the floor and told me to find a place for them. His "off-season" clothes now occupy the space.

Oh, well. I don't have that many outfits anyway. Actually, most of my wardrobe is made up of Luke's hand-me-downs. The man is a real clothes-horse, and he's constantly buying new outfits. He's almost as bad as Natalie. Every now and then, if a shirt gets a stain on it or something, he'll let me have it.

Second-hand clothes. Second-hand love.

Second-hand life.

I snapped out my morning depression session and rushed upstairs to start on breakfast.

I'd made eggs the day before, so I decided to fix pancakes this morning. Natalie and Luke like me to mix up the menu from day to day. But at least they usually let me pick the entree. Sometimes they'll tell me when they want something specific, but most of the time they leave it up to me. By now I know what they like and what they don't like. They're not picky eaters, thank goodness, so I have a wide choice of meals to pick from.

I still wasn't completely awake as I stood at the stove mixing the batter. I couldn't wait for Natalie and Luke to leave for work, so I could make myself a cup of coffee. They don't like me to have anything to eat or drink before they do in the morning. They say it's disrespectful. It's a stupid rule, I know, but I'd just as soon not get caught breaking it.

Wait! Was that Natalie's voice calling for me? I stopped my action with the mixing spoon and frantically pricked up my ears.

I cocked my head toward the stairs and stared up at my wife's bedroom door for a few seconds. Nothing.

Whew! She's still asleep, I thought. Must've been a noise outside. The adrenaline in my breast started to subside.

I carefully poured the pancake mix into the hot griddle and watched as the goo eventually congealed into perfectly-shaped hotcakes. After they were a rich golden-brown, I scooped them up with a spatula and set them on two plates. Then I arranged a nice fruit basket and put it on the tray along with the pancakes. A pitcher of orange juice, a small pot of coffee and four slices of toast completed the ensemble.

On the way to the bedroom, I ducked outside and grabbed the morning paper. Sometimes Luke has time to read the paper, and sometimes he doesn't...but I know I'd better make sure it's available for him every morning, just in case.

Balancing the heavy tray in my arms, I carefully negotiated the stairs and approached their bedroom. I set the tray on the carpet outside the door, then quietly knocked.

I heard my wife's cranky voice call out: "Come back in 10 minutes!"

I waited outside the door and watched the hallway clock. After the required 10 minutes, I knocked again. No answer. I opened the door a crack, then picked up the breakfast tray. As I nudged the door wide open, I saw that they were both under the covers, still asleep. I set their food onto the small table in the adjacent breakfast nook, then opened the drapes to allow the sun to come in through the window and welcome their day.

They both stirred as the bright rays penetrated the darkness. Natalie yawned and shielded her sleepy eyes from the sun, while Luke grabbed the headboard and stretched languidly.

"Good morning!" I said to them in my most pleasant voice. Neither of them acknowledged my greeting as they continued to shake off the long night's cobwebs.

I stood there submissively and watched my wife and her lover finally rouse out of bed. Luke got up and headed for the bathroom, while Natalie started doing her morning stretching.

"What's my schedule look like today, Brian?" she asked as she bent down and touched her toes.

I retrieved the huge planner Natalie keeps in the den, and turned to the correct page.

"You have the arraignment on the Collins case at 10," I reported. "Then you have lunch with Mr. Merideth at noon. After that, there's a brainstorming session at Mr. Higginson's office on the Collins case. That's at 3. Oh, and you're supposed to have a late meeting with Janet Roland, from the defender's office."

Luke came sauntering back into the bedroom scratching his balls. "What about me?" he asked between yawns.

I turned to the next page and began reading. "You're due in court at 9, sir. After that, you have a golf game with John Matthews from the insurance company."

"Aw, hell, I don't wanna have to deal with that asshole today," Luke grimaced. He stretched again. "Oh, well, fuck it - go run me a nice, hot shower, Brian," he ordered.

After I ran Luke's shower, I went down to the laundry room and retrieved the outfits for the day. I hung both Luke's suit and Natalie's dress on the back of the door, then I packed Luke's duffle bag with an extra outfit for his golf game.

They both seemed to be in a hurry, so I just kind of stayed out of their way while they got ready for work. Nothing much was said to me as they got dressed.

Luke had me pour him a cup of coffee, but neither of them bothered to eat the breakfast I'd worked so hard to prepare. There wasn't time.

I followed them down the stairs and watched as they disappeared out the front door without so much as a goodbye. I sadly parted the living room drapes and watched both of them get in their expensive cars and drive away.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 9 (MmF, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

I'll never forget it; it was a blustery January night and the wind was screaming like an angry tea kettle outside the kitchen window. I'd just finished washing the dinner dishes when my wife broke my heart forever.

"Brian, come in here."

I'd heard that order a thousand times before, but this time my wife's tone was different somehow. It was almost...gentle.

I dried my hands and hurried to the living room. Natalie and Luke were both standing in the middle of the room wearing serious expressions. I wondered what was up, expecting, as always, the worst.

Natalie started pacing slowly as I approached her...almost as if she were about to address a jury.

"Brian, I have some news for you, and I'm afraid you're not going to like it very much." She regarded me with a strange expression, a mix of wry pity and a devilish, little-girl amusement.

"Now, Brian, I know you've really tried to be a good husband throughout our marriage," she began. "But, you have to tell the truth: this hasn't been much of a marriage, has it?"

"Uh..." I tried to find the words. This was a dangerous subject, and I didn't dare say the wrong thing. "Uh, well, Natalie, maybe we don't have what you'd call a conventional marriage, but I still love you very much...and..."

My wife waved her hand sharply, cutting me off.

"That's the problem, Brian," she grimaced. "I know you love me - that's not the question. The problem is, I don't love you. I never did. Marrying you was a mistake. We were young, Brian, and we didn't know what we were doing. I had just been through a rotten relationship with Keith, and then you came along. It was nice to have a man treat me like a queen for a change. I've always been attracted to rough men, and at the time I needed a break from all that. So I found you, a man who fawned all over me. It was okay at first, but after awhile it started to make me ill."

As Natalie paused to take a breath, I looked over at Luke. He was standing by the fireplace, hands in pockets, taking in every word. When he caught eye-contact with me, a feeling of complete terror swept through my soul. Suddenly I knew exactly what Natalie was leading up to.

My wife continued handing down her execution sentence. "Brian, we can't keep up this charade any longer," she said firmly. "I'm tired of having to lie about things at work. Everyone knows Luke and I are having an affair, I'm sure, but if they found out that he was living here, with you in the basement...my entire career would be ruined. Not to mention Luke's."

Her words simmered in my brain like a hit of LSD. That's the closest I can come to describing how I felt just then; it was like I was on an acid trip. The walls were melting. The floor felt like a rickety roller coaster, and I heard the distant call of hungry coyotes wailing somewhere in my head. I looked at Natalie's sweet face to try to calm myself, but even she looked surreal, her green eyes glowing like a sneaky cat in the night.

Then she finally came out with it: "I want a divorce, Brian."

The flood hit me all at once, and I began to throw up, right on the living room carpet.

Natalie was furious. She stepped forward and kicked me right in the head with the toe of her sneaker. I saw stars for a second, then another wave of nausea hit me and I began throwing up again.

"You disgusting piece of shit!" Natalie screamed. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Brian? I tell you I want a divorce and you start puking all over the goddamn place?!!? Go get a towel and clean that nasty shit off my carpet. MOVE YOUR SORRY ASS!"

"It stinks in here," Luke said as I snapped out of it and jumped up to obey my wife's command. "Let's go upstairs."

After the carpet was cleaned, I reported to Natalie and Luke in the bedroom.

Luke was already undressed and in bed, while my wife was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. Luke looked up at me and smiled. His face looked like a Nazi skull.

"Natalie didn't tell you the whole story, Brian," he said, flashing those perfect teeth he liked to show off so much. "After I draw up the divorce papers, guess what? There's gonna be a weddin'."

That remark should have been devastating. But nothing could hurt me now. I was like a pin-cushion with one too many holes in it. There was nothing left to penetrate.

Natalie sauntered into the bedroom drying her face with a hand towel. Luke began singing, "Here comes the bride," and she held up her towel like a bouquet of flowers and began mimicking a march down the aisle.

When she got near the bed, Luke grabbed her by the leg and started pulling. Natalie giggled as Luke's iron grip made her fall onto the bed. Luke rolled her over and pinned her shoulders to the pillows, then stuck his tounge in her mouth.

Between kisses, my wife informed me that the wedding was scheduled for June. Again, I felt nothing. Just a black hole where my heart once was.

So this is what you get when you sell your soul to the devil. There's always an evil trick at the end of the story, isn't there?

I found my voice somehow. "So, when do you want me to move out, Natalie?" I asked. For the first time in years, I felt almost equal to my wife. I guess I was gearing myself up for a new start in life, and I didn't want to have to go through this turmoil again. Someday, I thought, maybe I'd find a woman who would love ME for a change. Of course, I'd never find anyone I loved as much as Natalie. I knew that. But maybe I could learn to love someone else eventually...someone who would appreciate my love...

Natalie's next words totally knocked those thoughts out of my head: "Who said anything about you moving out, asshole? I don't want you to move out. I didn't say I wanted you to stop being my slave; I just don't want to be married to your ass anymore."

Despite her cutting words, I was thrilled beyond belief! What in the world was I thinking earlier? How could I ever "learn to love" another woman? Never mind the devil - I sold my soul to this woman! For all I know, maybe she is an agent of Satan. Either way, I knew now that there could never be an escape from her web.

Natalie explained her plan: "I can tell everyone that you can't find a job, so I'm letting you sleep in the basement until you get on your feet. That's not so odd; no one would even raise an eyebrow. I'll tell 'em that even though our marriage didn't work out, we're all still friends. They'll buy it, I know."

I was watching my wife's beautiful lips move as she spoke. "Well, I'm glad that's all out of the way now. You should've been expecting this, Brian. I mean, the writing was on the wall when Luke moved in with me, don't you think?"

"Yes, Natalie."

My soon-to-be ex-wife smirked at me. "You're such a putz, Brian. Have a backbone, for chrissakes!" Luke guffawed loudly at that one.

Natalie scooted up on the bed and wrapped herself in the fluffy comforter.

"Now, then, get outta here and let us go to sleep," she said, stifling a yawn. "I'll tell you more about the wedding in the morning."

"Natalie?" I whispered.

"Yes, Brian?"

"Th-thank you...for letting me...stay."

Natalie looked at Luke and smiled. "Don't thank me, Brian - thank him. Luke's the one who said you could stay. After all, he is going to be my husband, and the decision was up to him! So thank him; not every man would agree to let his wife's ex-husband stay in his house!"

The irony of that statement wasn't lost on me. I looked at Luke, who was lying with his hands propped up behind his head, a smug look on his face.

I hated to say it, but I knew I had to: "Th-thank you sir...for letting me stay."

"No problem, dickhead," he shot back flippantly. "We like having you around, Brian. I don't do the house-cleaning thing, and neither does Natty. So it's nice having you here to take care of that end of it. I'd hate to have to hire a maid - besides, I could never find a maid who'd suck my asshole the way you do, Brian.

"Now get the fuck outta here, slave, and turn the light off on the way out."

 

Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave, part 10 (Mmf, wimp husband)

by c.w. cobblestone

Have you ever sat up all night crying? Cried so many tears that your face actually started to chafe from the water burns?

Well, that's how I spent my night. It was a lovely fucking evening, let me tell you.

A divorce! I couldn't believe it! She wanted a divorce! After all I'd done for her!

Year after year, I'd put up with everything - the affairs, the physical abuse, the terrible mental abuse. Even when Natalie informed me that Luke would be moving into our home, I bit my lip and took it. I kept hoping that this thing between my wife and Luke was just an infatuation, and that someday Natalie would get tired of the macho asshole. Then it would be just the two of us again.

But with the casual wave of her hand, Natalie dissolved away all those pathetic dreams.

"People at work might get suspicious." That's what she told me! Can you believe the nerve?!!? Well, I'll say one thing for Natalie: no one ever said she wasn't ambitious! Her career always was her first consideration.

But one thing I didn't understand: as soon as she divorced me, she was planning to marry Luke! I knew she loved him - I resigned myself to that fact a long time ago - but marriage? So soon after breaking up with me? What would the people at work think, Natalie?

But maybe marrying Luke would be a career move, too, I thought. After all, Luke is a rising star at the prosecutor's office...though he's not quite as sharp as my Natalie.

My Natalie. The words stuck in my throat.

She wasn't my Natalie any more.

Like I said, it was a long night. I thought about suicide, but that wasn't the answer. I don't know if I even could kill myself. I'm a coward, I could never go through with it.

I thought about just packing what little clothes I had left and hitting the road. But that little fantasy didn't last long, either. I knew I wouldn't be able to face life without her.

A damn coward...

At least there was one consolation: I was going to be allowed to stay and serve Natalie and Luke after the wedding. So things weren't all bad. Actually, there wouldn't be much difference in our living conditions after they got married. I was a slave before all this, and I'd be a slave afterward.

But, no matter how much I tried to convince myself, I knew things would never be the same. There was no denying Natalie's love for Luke now. Okay, deep down, I probably knew it all along, anyway. But I guess I needed to fool myself to get myself through the day. Now, I wouldn't even have that crutch to lean on.

Like I said, it was a long night...and morning wasn't going very well, either. Around 7 am, I decided to get out of bed. I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. I was exhausted - physically, emotionally, just plain exhausted. But I knew I had to somehow get up and face the sun.

It was shaping up to be an unseasonably warm day and the Saturday morning air was heavy and still. I didn't want to wake Natalie or Luke, so I decided to get started on my weekend cleaning by scrubbing the kitchen floor - a nice, quiet chore that wouldn't disturb the prince and princess of the household.

It's incredible how clean our house stays, thanks to me. Actually, it isn't too difficult cleaning house anymore - partly because I'm used to it, and partly because everything is always spotless already. I don't have to use a lot of elbow-grease to get things clean around here.

Still, it's always tiresome to have to get down on your knees and, for the third time that week, do the Cinderella bit! What I wouldn't give for the kind of Saturday afternoon that Luke gets to enjoy: lounging around all day watching college basketball games, with a servant available to fetch cold beers and snacks at the snap of a finger.

It took only about an hour before the entire kitchen was spotless. Then I went into the living room and started dusting.

So they're getting married in June, I thought as I wiped the TV screen with a damp rag. Well, at least they're waiting a couple months, to make it look good! It'll probably be a big wedding, I thought - Natalie never does anything half-assed.

Would she wear white?

She ought to wear black, I reflected bitterly to myself as I finished my dusting. The color of vampires.

I started cooking breakfast around 9:30. Just as I broke the third egg, I heard my wife - excuse me, my soon-to-be ex-wife - summoning me from the bedroom upstairs.

"Briiiiiiiaaaaaan," she called out to me in that "spoiled-brat" tone of voice she uses when she wants something. "I'm thirsty!" she bellowed. "I need orange juice, pronto!"

I abandoned my work at the stove and whipped up a cold glass of orange juice as fast as I could. I put it on a tray and scurried up the stairs.

She was sprawled across the bed, belly down, and my heart twitched when I saw her smooth, athletic butt rising from the pool of sheets around her. Luke was lying on his side, facing the wall, so I couldn't tell if he was awake or not.

I offered the tray to Natalie and she snatched up the glass of juice. She damn near downed the whole glass in the first drink, then let out a soft, ladylike belch.

After devouring the rest of the orange juice, she handed the empty glass back to me and simply said, "refill." I rushed downstairs to obey.

As I stood in the kitchen refilling her glass, I was surprised to hear Natalie padding down the stairs. She usually doesn't get her ass out of bed this early on a Saturday. Usually on weekends, she and Luke spend hours in their room, sometimes making love, sometimes just cuddling and watching television. So, as I heard Natalie's footsteps approaching, I wondered what was up.

She stuck her head in the kitchen and said, "bring it to me in the living room."

I swiftly put away the juice bottle and took my wife's drink to the front room. She was lying on the couch wearing an old t-shirt, and the way her legs were spread I could see a glimpse of her heavenly vagina! She wasn't wearing panties, and it was the first time in more than two weeks that I'd seen my wife's bare vagina. I tried not to make my swooning too obvious as I handed Natalie her drink.

"You look like you've been up all night crying, Brian," she said, noticing my bleary eyes. "Are you sad about something, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Natalie," I croaked. "I am...sad."

"Well, being sad isn't going to solve anything, Brian," she said in a matronly tone of voice. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this, anyway." She sat up and took a dainty sip of her orange juice. "It's not like we ever had a normal marriage in the first place, you know? I don't want anything to change, Brian, I already told you that last night.

"I like things just the way they are, and so does Luke," she continued. "But like I told you, I can't have any scandals. There's a good chance I may get a crack at the prosecutor's seat after McCuller retires next year. I can't have any skeletons in my closet, Brian."

I looked down at the floor, the tears beginning to surface again. "I-is that all I am to you, Natalie?" I asked sadly. "A skeleton in your closet?"

My wife's lips immediately snarled up into an angry sneer. "Oh, don't be so goddamn dramatic, asshole!" she hissed. "Okay, I tried to be nice to you. Well here's the truth: you're a fucking spineless wimp, and I don't know why I ever married your sorry ass in the first place!"

It sure didn't take much to release Natalie's evil demons. But she was right: she was trying to be nice to me. And I fucked it up with my pathetic whining.

"I'm sorry, Natalie," I was quick to say. "I...I'm happy for you, if...if this is what you really want."

"Don't fucking lie, Brian - you are NOT happy for me, and you know it!" Natalie laughed and shook her head. "You're pathetic, you know that?"

I mumbled something and continued to stare at the floor. Natalie set down her orange juice and laid back down on the sofa. She hunched up the t-shirt she was wearing and spread her creamy legs slowly and seductively. My teeth were chattering as I stared at her exposed pussy as if I were gazing upon the Burning Bush itself.

"Look, Brian," she said in a magical tone of voice. "It's my pussy!" She spread the pink lips apart and her clit protruded from her flower. "Would you like a taste?"

Before the last word was out of her mouth, I fell to my knees and began begging. "Oh, yes, pleeeease, Natalie, pleeeeeease, may I please have a taste of your beautiful pussy? Pleeeease?"

Natalie chuckled and ran her finger across her pussy. Then she put her finger in her mouth and dramatically sucked it. She made a loud, slurping noise as she pulled her finger away from her lips.

"Mama knows you want a taste, sweetie," she said as she looked deep into my eyes. "But you'll have to check with Luke from now on, honey. After all," she added in her best 'Scarlet O'Hara' voice, "Luke IS going to be my husband!"

"Yes, Natalie," I said, staring ruefully at her vagina. Was there no limit to her cruelty?

Natalie didn't notice my sadness as she sat up on the couch and rearranged the throw pillows under her. She laid back down, then propped her hands up behind her head and smiled at me.

"Now then, why don't we get down to business? We have a lot of work to do, Brian - the wedding's only two-and-a-half months away. Go get your notebook."

For the next 45 minutes, I stood before my reclining wife taking notes as she rattled off a list of things she wanted for her wedding. Above all, she wanted it to be elaborate. "Our wedding was pretty lame," she told me. "I want this one to be special."

That remark really hurt my feelings. I was sad that she didn't share the same fond memories of our wedding day as I did. No, we didn't have an elaborate wedding; she was still in law school, and I was just a junior accountant at the time, and we didn't have much money. But, even though it was modest, I always thought we had a lovely wedding.

"---Hey, dickhead, are you listening to me?!!?" my wife's voice cut into my thoughts. "Don't be such an airhead, Brian!" she sighed. "Keep your mind on your work. If you fuck this up, I'll cut your balls off!"

She continued dictating her wedding plans as I took notes, trying not to stare at her exposed vagina.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," Part 11 (MmF, wimp husband - or, rather, EX-husband!)

by c.w. cobblestone

The divorce was anticlimatic. There was no ceremony, no fanfare, no emotion. One night while I was serving dinner Luke ordered me to fetch his briefcase. When I brought it to him, he reached in and pulled out the divorce papers. Then he reached in again, produced a gold Cross pen, and told me to sign on the dotted line.

Then he told me he wanted more potatoes.

That was it. Natalie never said a word; she was flipping through a bridal magazine while she ate, and didn't seem to be the least bit interested. To her, signing the divorce papers was simply a formality. Our marriage never did mean that much to Natalie, but now her entire attention was focused on her upcoming wedding with Luke.

But signing those papers ripped a hole in my soul. Through the years, I had worked relentlessly to try to keep our marriage together, and when I scratched my name on the bottom of the hated document I felt like I was giving up on life itself.

It was an uncontested divorce; Natalie got everything, of course. Not that it mattered anyway - the house, the cars, and all the stocks and bonds were all in her name from the get-go. But, just in case, Luke had a provision written into the settlement that required me to give Natalie 50 percent of every penny I would ever earn for the rest of my life. Quite a one-sided alimony agreement, to say the least. But what did I expect? Luke's a sharp lawyer.

Despite the change in our marital status, the daily routine pretty much stayed the same in our household. Natalie and Luke still treated me like a socially inferior moron whose sole purpose was to make life comfortable for them. And I continued to work my ass off without not so much as a thank-you. One big, happy family.

I was kept busy running around town getting ready for the wedding. Luke pretty much left the whole thing up to Natalie - and she pretty much left it all up to me, or at least the gopher part of it. She told me what she wanted, and I hopped on the bus and took care of it. Money was no object, either. Almost $2,000 for an ice sculture? No problem.

One night, about two weeks before the wedding, I was in the master bedroom folding Luke's underwear, when I discovered a diamond necklace I'd never seen before in Luke's top drawer.

I picked up the necklace and turned toward Natalie, who was lounging on the bed watching television with her fiancee.

"Uh, Natalie, did you lose this?" I asked, holding the necklace up to show her. "I found it in Luke's underwear drawer."

I was surprised when I saw Luke throw back the covers and lunge toward me. I didn't know what was going on, and I had no time to duck as his hand crashed across the side of my face. My head snapped back, and I immediately felt my nose start to bleed as I slumped to the floor.

"You fucking stupid cocksucker!" he screamed at me. "That necklace was supposed to be a surprise! I was gonna give it to Natalie when we got to Hawaii. And now, you went and fucked it all up!" I was lying on the carpet hunched up in a fetal position when I suddenly felt Luke's foot crash against my ribs. The blow knocked the wind out of me. I was trying to catch my breath when he kicked me again, this time catching me behind the ear with his foot.

"Get up, asshole!" he screamed at me, and I scrambled to regain my feet. As soon as I was standing upright again, Luke slapped me on the back of the head, then kicked me hard in the ass. "Get out of our bedroom, you sorry piece of shit!" he hissed. "I'm too tired to whip your ass tonight - but tomorrow, you're gonna get a hundred with the cane. At least a hundred. Maybe two. Now get the fuck outta here!"

"Y-yes, sir," I whispered as I backed out of the bedroom.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," Part 12

by c.w. cobblestone

It was a beautiful wedding, I'm told.

I never saw it. While Natalie and Luke were at the chapel tying the knot, I was at home, packing everything for their honeymoon. They were going on a two-week cruise to Hawaii, so I made sure to pack lots of swimsuits.

Natalie has dozens of them. Bikinis, one-pieces, some with ruffles, one with pictures of peacocks on it - Natalie never does anything half-assed, even when it comes to buying bathing suits.

I agonized over which ones to pack. I knew if she didn't like my selections, I'd be hearing about it later! I also made sure to pack two bottles of suntan lotion. Luke, being fair-skinned, always uses the lotion that offers the most protection from the sun; the olive-complexioned Natalie only needs the minimum sunscreen.

These are the small details you pick up on after you've been a slave for a few years, like I have. I've had to learn the hard way exactly how Natalie and Luke want things done. A few hard smacks across the face always does wonders for the memory, let me tell you!

I absent-mindedly twirled a pair of Natalie's panties between my fingers and wistfully looked out the window at the leaves, gently brushing the pane. A beautiful day for a wedding...all those years, down the drain...the wedding will over soon with a big kiss...then the reception...what did I do wrong?

I felt the familiar wash of self-pity start to settle on my shoulders like a pirate's mangy vulture, but I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to shake loose the images playing in my mind. While I certainly had every right to feel sorry for myself, I knew the only way I'd get through this would be to focus on reality and stop wondering what might have been. Natalie is Luke's girl now, I told myself. Get used to it.

I continued packing the suitcases. I put the two bottles of suntan lotion into Natalie's blue travel bag after quickly double-checking: light screen for Natalie, heavy for Luke. I thought about my life as a servant to these two high-powered lawyers. It isn't easy, let me tell you. They've both become quite spoiled, and I'm expected to provide perfect service, with no exceptions. As Natalie and Luke's butler, maid, sex-slave and all-around whipping boy, there's a lot of details I have to keep up on.

Mostly, it's the little things. For instance, Luke likes real cream in his coffee - none of that powdered shit for the master of the household! Natalie drinks her coffee black, but she often enjoys a cup of tea, with one cream and a half-packet of sugar. Luke can't stand tea.

And for some reason, Luke likes me to iron his boxer shorts. I don't know if it's a power thing or what. Maybe it really matters for him to have military creases in his underwear. But, either way, it's a chore I have to do every day.

Natalie doesn't require me to iron her panties, but she does make me iron their silk bedsheets. That's a tough job, one of the toughest. I have to keep the iron on a low setting so I don't ruin the delicate material...but, with the iron on "low," the wrinkles are a bitch to get out!

It's always so humiliating to see them lounging around on the bedsheets I've worked so hard on, getting them all wrinkled again! But what do they care? If it takes me an hour to iron them again the next day - well, that's my problem. I doubt if they even think about things like that anymore. I'm like a lightswitch. When you flick the switch, you expect the light to go on. You don't even think about it. Well, I'm the lightswitch around here: when Natalie or Luke give me an order, they don't give it a second's thought - it's just expected that I'll hop right to it. With a smile.

I was doing a good job of keeping my mind occupied, but whenever I glanced toward the nightstand and saw the bridal magazine sitting there, I hung my head again. Right now Natalie was probably looking deep into Luke's eyes and promising to love him forever, as Luke slipped the ring onto her delicate finger and returned the promise. I closed my eyes again and tried to think soothing thoughts...

After everything was packed, I kind of stood there in the bedroom for a few minutes, unsure of what to do with myself. I still had about eight hours until I had to take the suitcases to the hotel where Natalie and Luke were staying. After the reception, they were going to spend the night in the hotel, then catch a plane to California the next day. They'd be on the water by 7 that evening.

I was well-acquainted with their itinerary - I set up the whole damn trip. In fact, I set up the entire wedding. I don't know how many buses I took to various floral shops, printers, bakeries...I must've taken three or four different buses back and forth every day for a few months there!

Since I still had time on my hands, I decided to put a movie on the VCR. I don't have any movies of my own, so when I'm home alone I have to pick from either Natalie or Luke's collection. Natalie likes those mushy love stories and Luke likes shoot-em-up flicks, so I don't have much to choose from.

As I browsed through the movie shelf, my heart caught in my throat as I came across the tape marked, "Brian and Natalie's Wedding 6/7/93." Our wedding tape! What a time to come across that!

I held the tape in my hands for several minutes, trying to decide whether or not to pop it in the VCR. I knew it would only bring me heartache...but some deep, masochistic twinge took hold of me, and I found myself excitedly sliding the tape in.

The tape wasn't rewound all the way, so the first thing I saw was the scene where we cut the wedding cake. We both looked so young! I was surprised to see myself five years ago; I looked so full of life then! The dark circles weren't yet under my eyes. I looked...happy.

On the TV screen, I saw a hopeful young man, dreaming of a good life ahead of him. I was walking on clouds back then. I was so ecstatic to be marrying such a beautiful woman like Natalie! If only I knew...

Natalie was in law school then, and she was only just beginning to discover the true depth of her power over me. I've been pretty much pussy-whipped throughout our entire relationship, but at first things weren't so bad. She actually treated me with a measure of respect most of the time.

But gradually, things changed. By the time we got married, she knew that she had me totally wrapped around her little finger. And then the demons began to come out...

I watched the screen as we cut the cake. As is the usual custom, Natalie picked up a huge piece of cake and smashed it in my face. She laughed as I sputtered and spit and coughed. After I collected myself, I picked up my own piece of cake and raised my arm, ready to return the favor. Natalie sharply held up her finger and flashed me one of her "looks." I sheepishly put the piece of cake down and smiled stupidly at the wedding party gathered around. It was obvious to everyone watching who was going to be the boss in this relationship!

I rewound the tape to the beginning, and moved over to the sofa to watch the whole thing.

I knew watching this tape was going to break my heart, but as soon as I saw Natalie walking down the aisle in her white dress, I lost it. I started crying as I watched her move slowly toward the alter, looking so exquisitely beautiful in her flowing white gown.

I wondered: Did she look as beautiful today, when she walked down the aisle for Luke?

It was too much to bear. I got up and ejected the movie from the VCR. I thought about destroying the tape, but I didn't want to get an ass-whipping later from Natalie. Not that she had any reason to ever watch the tape again - unless she wanted to share a good laugh with Luke!

I sadly put the tape back in the cabinet and went downstairs to take a nap.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," Part 13

by c.w. cobblestone

I used to think freedom was a good thing but these days, I'm not so sure.

With Natalie and Luke away on their honeymoon, I really felt out of sorts. I had no one around to tell me what to do, and as the days alone dragged on I found myself missing the discipline. Even one of Luke's teeth-chattering slaps would be better than another hour of forlorn solitude.

I guess I've just become accustomed to being a slave. It was bound to happen over time. I'm like a parolee who gets out of jail and immediately commits another crime so he can go back: I'm institutionalized. I've grown to need these chains.

It's not an easy thing to reconcile, let me tell you. I'd been lying to myself for years. Natalie wasn't the bad guy in this whole scenerio. I brought it all on myself.

Natalie always used to tell me, "if you didn't like the way I treat you, you would've left a long time ago." At the time I never really gave much thought to her words. In my mind, I was putting up with all her abuse in order to save our marriage.

But now, I began to see that she was right. Why was I so hell-bent on saving this marriage in the first place? I knew the answer: because I needed the abuse. It felt good to be a martyr.

Humiliation is like a drug to me. It tickles my nether world.

During my two weeks of solitude, I went through a serious emotional transformation. Somewhere along the line, I finally resolved myself to my station in life. If it was my fate to spend the rest of my days as Natalie and Luke's slave, then I might as well put all my efforts into being the best slave I could be. There was no other way to do it. It was either that or move out and start life over again.

As the end of the two weeks approached, I began to get nervous about Natalie and Luke's return. They were due back on Friday afternoon. I don't know how many times I scrubbed the house during those last few days - there wasn't a cobweb to be found anywhere. Every spoon in the kitchen drawer glittered. Every shoe in Natalie and Luke's closet was polished to a spit-shine. I couldn't wait until they got back, so I could demonstrate my new attitude. I would be the best slave ever! I was determined to show my mistress and master that I meant business.

Friday was agonizing. Forget butterflies - I had pigeons in my stomach! Natalie and Luke were due to get home sometime around noon, and I must've checked the clock a thousand times that morning, waiting for the little hand and the big hand to converge at the top.

But twelve o'clock came and went. So did one o'clock...and two...and three. Maybe they missed a flight or something, I kept thinking. Or maybe...no, I had to put that out of my mind. Still, I turned on the television, in case there was a report of a crash somewhere.

Finally, at about ten after four, I heard the Mercedes pulling up in the driveway. I tried to swallow the brick in my throat as I rushed to greet my masters properly, kneeling down about 10 paces from the door and lowering my head submissively.

I heard their footsteps on the front porch, then a key was inserted in the lock. The door swung open, and there they were - my owners! Or, at least, my owners' feet - that was all I could see  with my head bowed.

Natalie was wearing a pair of sneakers, with her teal sweatpants tucked into her white socks. Luke had on a pair of hiking boots and jeans. I wanted to raise my eyes to drink in the rest of my beloved Natalie - and Luke, for that matter - but I dared not. A good slave keeps his eyes lowered, I reminded myself.

Natalie spoke first. "Well, hello, Brian, darling!" she sang. After all this time, her sweet voice sounded like a Beethoven symphony! "Aren't you going to ask us how our honeymoon was?"

I cleared my throat. "Uh...yes, Natalie, I'm sorry...uh, how was your honeymoon?"

Luke answered the question for her. "It was wonderful, Brian," he drawled as he sauntered past me into the living room. He plopped down on the couch and started taking off his boots. "But I must admit - I really missed your personal services, Brian," he said flinging one boot, then another, across the living room floor. "Why, I had to wipe my own ass the entire trip!"

Natalie giggled and joined her husband on the sofa. "The bags are out in the car," she said airily. "Bring me an iced tea first, though."

"Yes, Natalie," I said, then turned to Luke. "Would you like anything to drink, sir?" I asked humbly.

Luke sighed dreamily and leaned back in the couch. "Yep, it's good to have ya back, Brian," he said. "And, since you asked so sweetly...I'd like a nice, coooooooooolllllld beer, slave - and hurry the fuck up! On the double - move your ass!"

"Yessir!" I said in a high, squeaky voice as I turned and picked up Luke's discarded boots, then ran out of the room.

Behind me, I heard Luke say, "I gotta keep the sorry bastard on his toes! He's been sitting on his fat ass for two weeks - don't want him go get soft on us!"

I didn't hear Natalie's reply as I tiptoed as fast as I could into the kitchen.

I returned with the drinks and for the first time that day I really got a good look at Natalie. She looked utterly gorgeous in her casual sweat-suit, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was reclining on the couch, with her head resting on Luke's lap. As I handed my ex-wife her drink I couldn't help it - I fell to my knees and started sobbing.

"I'm so glad you're back, Mistress, I'm so glad you're back!" I blubbered over and over. "I'm sorry...I just missed you so much! I want to be a good slave for you and Luke, Mistress! I really want to prove it to you, and - "

SLLLAAAAPPP! My head snapped back as Natalie's palm found its mark. SLLLAAAPPP! Another one caught me off guard, and my the blood rushed to my face.

"Quit your fucking whining!" my ex-wife berated me. Natalie craned her neck up at Luke and snorted. "Jesus Christ, you'd think the asshole's never been alone before!"

Luke yawned and pointed at the front door. "Brian, shut your sorry trap and go bring in the luggage. And park the car in the garage," he added as I slowly rose from my knees and turned toward the front door.

"Yes, sir!" I said sadly. I waited until I was out of sight to rub the spot on my face where Natalie had slapped me.

 

*   *   *

 

It was a magical evening. Luke wasn't joking - he really must've missed my personal services, because he not only allowed me to stay in the bedroom with them while they made love that night, he actually granted me permission to participate! While my master took my ex-wife in the missionary position, I was allowed to suck her toes. I must be dreaming, I thought as I submissively played my tongue back and forth across Natalie's pretty painted toes, just a few feet from her sacred vagina.

Luke started out like he always does, slow and gentle. He teased Natalie, pulling his long dick all the way out, then just putting the tip at the edge of her pussy lips. Then, he'd rub his cock lightly on her clit, and Natalie would gasp with pleasure. Then Luke suddenly would plunge his dick into her, which caused her to cry out like a wounded banshee.

After awhile Luke's pelvis began to move faster, and Natalie's legs bounced wildly up and down with each thrust. It was impossible to keep her toes in my mouth as her foot jerked back and forth to the rhythm of Luke's hard lovemaking, but I tried my best. One time, after a particularly massive thrust, Natalie's foot slipped of my mouth and she kicked me hard, right in the nose. I saw stars for a few seconds, but I never stopped my abject foot worship.

Finally, Luke grabbed Natalie's legs and pinned them up back above her head among the pillows. It was impossible for me to continue sucking her toes now without disturbing their copulation, so I just sat back on my knees and watched in silence as they clutched each other like animals, tensing up for their impending orgasms.

Luke didn't miss a stroke as he spat at me over his shoulder, "get over here and squeeze my balls, faggot," he said. "I'm gonna cum!"

I rushed over to the foot of the bed and reached for my master's scrotum. I gently kneaded his sack between my fingers, careful not to pull on the sensitive skin as he continued to buck furiously.

The cadence of the bedsprings was at a manic pace, and the headboard sounded like a hammer as it banged again and again into the wall. Natalie was screaming now: "Ohhhh....Gooooddddd....fffffuck me...ohhhhhhhhhh...fffffuck...fffuck meeeeeeeeee!"

Luke let out an anguished moan as he pulled out his dick and began shooting what looked like a quart of cum, all over Natalie's belly. I could feel his balls contracting in my hand, and I clearly heard the sound of his jet of sperm splashing against Natalie's soft skin.

Luke collapsed on top of his wife, and I removed my hand from his balls. The lovers remained entwined like that for a few moments, silently winding down what must've been an incredible orgasm for both of them. Finally, Luke rolled over to his side of the bed. He looked at me and smiled wanely.

"Brian, you've got a big, sticky mess to clean up, don't ya?"

"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!" I bubbled, thinking he meant I was going be be allowed to lick up his mess.

"Don't get too excited, queer," he immediately said, putting a damper on my pathetic hopes. "I meant go get a towel."

Natalie giggled. "Awwwww....Luke is sooooooo mean, isn't he, boo-boo?" she cooed at me. "Well, forget Luke, that nasty ol' meanie - you can crawl over here and clean me up if you want to, Brian!"

I looked hestitantly at Luke. I was in a quandry: obeying Natalie's order would mean disobeying his.

"Uh...is it all right with you, sir?" I asked nervously.

"Why are you askin' me asshole - what did Nattie say?" he barked back. "Go ahead, Brian - lick my cum out of her belly button if you want to. I don't give a fuck!"

"Thank you, sir," I said, then turned toward the reclining Natalie. "Thank you, Mistress."

Natalie smiled. "What's with the 'Mistress' bit?" she asked. "You never called me that before."

I looked deep into Natalie's eyes, trying to convey my sincerity. "Well...while I was here alone, I thought a lot about my life, Natalie, and I really want to be a good slave for you and...Luke," I said. "I want to be the best slave in the world for you!"

"Well, that's nice, Brian," she said dismissively. "You can start by shutting the fuck up and cleaning my HUSBAND'S cum off my tummy." She emphasised the word 'husband,' for no other reason, I surmised, than to be mean. "Then when you're finished, clean up the room and turn off the light. I'm tired and I want to go to sleep."

"And when you're done with that," Luke piped in as I began softly licking up the puddle of semen from my ex-wife's stomach, "bring your faggot ass over here by me," he said. "It's been two weeks, and I need a nice, soft buttlick while I go to sleep."

I spent the rest of the night with my nose buried in Luke's ass crack, listening to the soft breathing of my master and mistress.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 14

by c.w. cobblestone

My eyes followed the soft puff of gray smoke at it slowly danced upward toward the ceiling. I inhaled the dry, semi-sweet scent of musk which hung heavily in the air. The smell was exotic...sexy. I hoped I made the right decision.

Everything had to be perfect tonight - even my choice of incense. Dark Musk was Natalie's favorite scent, so I was pretty sure she'd be pleased with my selection.

Tonight, our kinky blonde neighbor, Laura, was coming over to visit. About once a month, she comes by for a hot threesome with Natalie and Luke. There's always plenty of fucking and sucking when Laura stops by for these trysts, and my masters eagerly look forward each month to her visits. But I dread them.

When Laura is here, Natalie and Luke love to show off their power over me. I can do no right when she's over - I'm constantly being slapped, kicked or berated for even the most borderline infractions.

The last time Laura was here, I had to spend the entire night in the bathroom with a pair of Natalie's panties on my head. Normally, that would be heaven - but I also had a plunger stuck up my rear end, and a roll of toilet paper was stuffed in my mouth. My crime: I forgot to put the beer in the fridge. When Luke ordered me to bring him a cold one, a chill shot through my spine as I realized that I'd overlooked one very important detail when I was putting away the groceries earlier that afternoon.

Luke was furious, and so were the girls. They'd spent most of the day at the beach, and were ready for some serious beer-drinking before they adjourned to the bedroom. They each took turns turning my ass into hamburger with the fiberglass rod Luke keeps in the bedroom. After a few minutes of the terrible caning, I started crying and begging them to stop. Undaunted, Luke marched into the guest bathroom and came back brandishing a half-used roll of toilet paper. He grabbed me by the hair and forced the roll into my mouth. I gagged, but all that got me was a slap on the back of the head. Then the whipping started again.

After I was thoroughly worked over, Luke grabbed me by the hair and dragged my limp carcas into the bathroom. He bent me over the toilet, making sure my face was well inside the bowl, then ordered me to reach back and spread my ass cheeks. I knew what was coming next.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" I screamed into the wad of toilet paper as I suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through my rectum. Luke was forcing something up my ass, and he wasn't being at all gentle about it!

Behind me, I heard Laura gasp in horror. "My god, Natalie, he's shoving that plunger up his ass without any lubricant!" she said. "That's gotta fucking HURT!"

"I'm sure it does," Natalie said calmly. "But that's the idea. It's suppposed to hurt. Let that be a lesson to the creep - we don't tolerate anything less than perfection!"

Laura snickered. "Man, you two are getting spoiled in your old age!" she said. Natalie laughingly agreed, and so did Luke. Aside from the pain I was feeling physically, I was crushed emotionally as well. How could they banter back and forth like that when I was in such excruciating pain? Didn't they have any compassion at all?

Luke gave one final, brutal thrust and the plunger went up another few inches into my inflamed rectal passage. I tried to cry out, but the toilet paper in my mouth muffled my bellow of agony.

I heard Luke laugh and say, "kind ladies, I give you Exhibit A. Here we have a stupid, brainless slave who took it upon himself to decide that his superiors could do without cold beer tonight. Now, tell me, my beautiful lasses: is there anything else I can do to this sorry piece of shit that might compensate for your pain and suffering?"

"Always the lawyer, Luke," Laura kidded. "Hmmm...let's see...is there anything you can do that would make up for us having to drink warm beer?" she mused. "Wait -I've got it! Luke, why don't you make him wear your underwear over his head? That ought to be funny."

"But, cupcake, I'm not wearing any underwear," Luke answered. "So we have a problem, don't we? Hey, I know what! Natalie - would you be so kind as to do the honors?"

"Sure, sweetie - anything for my darling husband," she said gaily. I heard the sound of fabric rustling behind me, and I knew Natalie was taking off her panties.

Suddenly I felt a hand grab hold of my hair and pull my face out of the toilet water. Someone pulled my ex-wife's blue cotton panties tightly over my head, then my head was thurst down into the toilet again.

"Now you stay right there like a good boy," Natalie said. "Don't move. Think about Laura eating my pussy later on tonight."

"Forget that," Luke chimed in. "I'll tell you what you can think about, Brian: think about licking my asshole tonight when I go to sleep!"

There were guffaws all around, then they all turned and walked away. I heard the door shut. Then I started to cry.

 

*   *   *

Laura was due around 8:00, so I had to rush to make sure dinner was on the table in time. Tonight's menu called for roast duck.

Thanks to my torrid pace, everything was ready with minutes to spare. Natalie and Luke were in the living room watching television when the doorbell rang.

"She's here, Brian, go get the door," Natalie called into the kitchen. I ran to the front door and greeted my wife's best friend. She looked gorgeous in her short blue jean dress.

"Hey, wimpy-dick, how's it hangin'?" Laura asked as she breezed past me into the house. She made a bee-line to where Luke and Natalie were sitting in the living room, and gave each of them a warm hug.

"Ready for a hot time tonight, stud?" she asked Luke as she rubbed her hand across his crotch. "I know I sure am. I'm ready for some of that good long stuff, baby!"

"Well, I'm just the guy to give it to ya!" Luke answered, being his usual modest self. "Brian!" he said suddenly, causing me to jump. "Quit standing there eavesdropping on our conversation and make yourself useful - get us some drinks in here!" he said.

"Yes, sir!" I answered in my usual submissive tone.

You can bet that the beer was ice-cold tonight!

The night went fairly smoothly for me. I was slapped only twice - once for dropping a fork while I was serving dinner, and once for bumping Natalie's knee while I was taking off her shoes. But I was lucky enough to escape any severe punishment.

Sometimes when Laura is visiting they'll let me join them in the bedroom, and sometimes they won't. On this night, I was denied the pleasure of serving the threesome sexually. Luke had an important case coming up, and he wanted me to type up the preliminary documents. I was on refreshment duty, though, and I frequently had to run up and down the stairs refilling drinks.

It was difficult concentrating on my typing job, as I could clearly hear the moans of pleasure eminating from the master bedroom. Luke certainly has no problem keeping two women happy in the sack, that's for sure - in fact, he often says he'd like to try three women at once!

I could tell from the increased volume of their moans that the three of them were each approaching their orgasms. The shrieks and groans rattled the windows. Then everything got quiet again. Shortly after the animal sounds subsided, I was called into the bedroom to serve after-sex drinks. Then Natalie ordered me to kneel at the foot of the bed and give her a foot massage.

While I ardently rubbed my ex-wife's sexy feet, she, Luke and Laura continued their conversation as if I wasn't even there. I tried not to stare at their exposed genitals as they lounged on the big bed, sipping their drinks and talking like old friends.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 15

by c.w. cobblestone

My arms were starting to ache as I knelt by the pool, fanning Natalie with a huge wicker hand-fan. My knees were burning from kneeling on the hot concrete, and I was sweating profusely. But Natalie didn't notice my discomfort - she was too busy soaking up the sun.

I watched with a dry mouth and a heavy heart as Natalie casually sipped her iced tea. I was parched - I'd been kneeling in the hot sun for more than an hour, and hadn't had so much as a sip of water. But Natalie didn't care. She looked totally content, smiling behind her expensive sunglasses.

Suddenly, Natalie whipped off her shades, jumped up from her chaise and walked slowly over to the pool. My little penis started to twitch as I watched as my ex-wife's juicy ass, jiggling slightly with each step.

Natalie gracefully dove into the water, making a big splash. Natalie swam the length of the pool underwater, came up for air on the other side, then disappeared below the surface for the return trip.

As soon as I saw Natalie go under for the second time, I saw my chance. I quickly grabbed Natalie's iced tea and took a tiny sip. She wouldn't notice if I took just a little drink, I thought.

"Briiiiiiiaaaan!" Luke's angry voice behind me scared the shit out of me, and I dropped the iced tea. The glass shattered on the hot concrete, and my blood ran cold. I knew I was in big trouble this time.

Luke stormed over to me and pushed his sandal in my face, thrusting his foot out so hard I lost my balance and fell down. Then he reached down, grabbed a handful of my hair, and pulled my head up off the ground. Then he reared back and slapped me so hard I saw fireworks. Before I could recover from the first blow, Luke cuffed me again, this time bloodying my lip.

"I swear to God, Brian, what the fuck am I gonna do with you?" Luke shouted. "What is it with you: do you like getting your ass whipped or something?"

"Uh...n-no, sir, I was just real thirsty, sir. I'm sorry, sir, please forgive me. I didn't have anything to drink all day, and I didn't think - "

SLLAAAPPP! Another backhand caught me in the mouth. "That's exactly what the problem is: you didn't think!" Luke said. SLLLLAAAAP! Another one, right in the eye. "I think you're forgetting who you are, you sorry piece of shit! Since when do you just take drinks from my wife's glass without asking permission? Nobody wants to drink after that cocksucking mouth of yours has been on their glass! You ought to know better than that, Brian. I guess I'm going to have to teach you about humility all over again, ain't I?"

I hung my head and said nothing. There was no point - it would only make Luke angrier.

By this time, Natalie had finished her swim, and was walking toward us, toweling herself off. "What's going on, Luke?" she asked.

"Well, look at all the glass on the ground," Luke said. "Piss-face here took it upon himself to take a drink of your iced tea without permission. Then he dropped the goddamn glass!"

Natalie's pretty face twisted up into an ugly scowl. "Well, it sounds to me like he needs a good ass-whipping!" she said, looking at me with total contempt.

"That's exactly what I had in mind!" Luke said, smiling evilly. "Brain! Get off your sorry ass and clean up this mess. Then go wait for me in the bedroom."

*   *   *

I waited naked on my knees at the foot of Natalie and Luke's king-sized bed for almost 20 minutes before I heard two sets of footsteps ascending the stairs. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what was about to happen.

The bedroom door swung open, and Luke walked in holding hands with my ex-wife. Natalie let go of Luke's hand and flopped down onto the bed. She stretched her limbs and yawned loudly. "Brian, Luke's going to tear you a new asshole," she said, arranging the pillows so she could watch the show comfortably. "Do you know why you're being punished?"

"Because I took a drink of your iced tea?" I asked.

"That's only part of it," Luke said as he approached me with the dreaded plastic whipping rod. "You've been acting cocky lately, you fuckin' scumbag. You need to learn some manners."

Luke grabbed my hair and forced my face into the carpet. "Get that ass up in the air!" he said, nudging my butt with the toe of his sandal. "Up, up, up, up!"

I arched my back as much as I could. But that wasn't enough for Luke.

"Spread your cheeks, Brian," he said. "I'm gonna warm up that pink little butthole."

I reached back and spread my buttcheeks as far as they would go. This was going to hurt, and I steeled myself as best I could.

"If it's any consolation," my ex-wife said from her position on the bed, "this is probably going to hurt Luke more than it'll hurt you!"

"The hell it will!" Luke laughed. "Believe me, shit-face here is going to be hurtin' plenty by the time this is over."

"Make sure you raise some nice, pretty welts on that fat ass," Natalie said. "You know how much it turns me on."

I heard Luke blow his wife a kiss, and she returned the favor. Then the carnage began.

The first blow was a bullseye, slashing right across my asshole. I bit my lip. THWACK! Another one hit home, in the exact same spot. I was trembling by the fifth blow. Each vicious cut from the rod caused me to jump, but I didn't utter a sound. I knew that would only get me punished further.

Natalie propped her head up on her hand and smiled. "That's no good, Brian," she said. "I want you to thank Luke for every blow. I mean, he's taking time out of his busy day to set you straight. You at least ought to thank him."

WHACK! " - seven, thank you, sir. Eight, thank you sir."

"Oh, no you don't, faggot," Luke said. "Start counting over again. Start with number one."

TWHACK! "One, thank you, sir."

THWIP! "Two, t-thank you, sir."

Natalie giggled. "Brian, you don't sound very convincing. You sound sad. What are you sad for, Brian? You should be happy - Luke is making you a better slave. Aren't you happy?"

"Y-yes, Mistress." WHACK! "Three, thank you, sir." This time I said it in a "happier" tone of voice.

"That's better, Brian," Natalie said. "We'll make a good slave out of you yet!"

I endured 100 of those terrible blows, most of them slashing right across my asshole. I'd probably be walking funny for a week!

Finally, the blinding pain stopped, and I laid there sobbing into the carpet.

Luke stepped on my head, mashing my face into the floor. "Now, then, Brian, what have we learned today?" he asked, applying more pressure.

I knew I'd better have the right answer. "Sir, I-I learned that you are my master, and Natalie is my mistress, and that I am just a slave, sir," I stammered. "I learned that I shouldn't take liberties, and that it was wrong for me to take a drink from Natalie's iced tea without permission."

"That's right, pig," Natalie said. "I don't want your disgusting lips touching my glass - I know where that sewer mouth has been!"

"Speaking of which," Luke said, lifting his foot off my head joining his wife on the bed. "Why don't you crawl your faggy ass up here and give daddy a nice blow-job, Brian? That would be nice, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir," I said sadly.

I submissively pulled down Luke's cut-offs and began softly worshiping his cock. Luke casually placed his hand on my head and sighed.

"It's a great country, ain't it, Natty?" he said dreamily as my head bobbed slowly up and down on his penis. "Nothin' like a nice, slow blowjob to melt the tension away."

"I'm jealous," Natalie said playfully. "You always hog the slave's mouth, honey. What am I, chopped liver? I want pleasure, too, you know."

"You want pleasure?" Luke said. "Well, then, sweet-cheeks, why don't you shimmy out of that sexy bathing suit, and I'll give you a little pleasure!"

Luke slapped me hard across the ear, causing bells to go off in my head. "Move, fag, give it a rest. I'm gonna give my wife a little satisfaction now. Watch real close, homo - you might learn something."

By this time, Natalie had taken off her bikini and tossed it onto the floor. Luke rolled over and began rubbing his hard cock across Natalie's pink pussy lips, causing her to gasp.

"Hey, Brian, why don'tcha make yourself useful?" Natalie called over to me. "Get over here and suck my toes."

Despite the throbbing pain in my rear, I rushed over to my wife and took her big toe into my mouth. This was about the only sexual contact I was allowed with my wife anymore. Luke doesn't like me to lick Natalie's pussy - he says that's reserved for him. Sometimes Natalie will let me lick her anus, but not very often. So sucking my ex-wife's toes was like a slice of heaven.

As Luke mounted his wife, I began ardently sucking her toes, trying my best to please her. I could smell the fishy scent of their combined sex, and my little dick began to wake up.

After a few minutes, Luke began thrusting furiously into Natalie, and she loudly moaned her approval. I hoped I was contributing to her pleasure, even in a small way,  but I didn't fool myself - her cries weren't because I was doing a good job on her toes. She was moaning because of Luke.

After a few minutes, Luke grunted and pulled out his dick. He stroked his cock with his hand, and his sperm shot out like a cannon, splashing Natalie in the face.

"Wow, you came a lot!" Natalie exclaimed, wiping the cum off her cheek. "That's gotta be a world record!"

Luke didn't say anything at first. He collapsed on top of my ex-wife and caught his breath.

Poor Luke! Between whipping me and fucking Natalie, he must be exhausted!

I was still sucking Natalie's toes, but that began to irritate her, so she yanked her foot out of my mouth and kicked me in the head. "Back off, queer-boy," she hissed. "Get the fuck out of here and get started on dinner."

It was difficult trying to walk as I gingerly got up and left the room. My asshole was throbbing from the severe caning. But there was no time to worry about me. Mistress was hungry.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 16

by c.w. cobblestone

The living room was a disaster. There were beer cans everywhere. Potato chip crumbs were scattered all over the carpet in front of the couch. And somebody spilled the ashtray, scattering cigarette butts and ashes all over the table.

What a bunch of fucking slobs!

Luke threw one of his Saturday night hockey parties with a bunch of guys from his office last night. I wasn't called on to serve the party, because these were people from work. Natalie and Luke don't want too many people to know about their personal life, especially from their office. If word got out that Natalie's ex-husband was living in their basement and serving as a full-time slave, it would probably ruin their careers.

But just because I didn't serve the party didn't mean I had an easy night of it. In fact, serving the party would've probably been heaven compared to what I had to go through.

While Luke and his buddies watched the playoffs, I was trussed up in the garage with a pair of purple panties stuffed in my mouth. Natalie had added that feminine touch just before she left for an evening of shopping with Laura.

Just in case anyone ventured into the garage, I was covered up with a big itchy horse blanket. I sweltered in the June heat under that infernal blanket all night.

In the morning, Luke finally came out and untied me. As he loosened my bonds, he asked, "hey, slave, did you get a good night's sleep? I'm sorry - I forgot all about you out here!" He chuckled as undid the rope holding my hands. "What a life! Brian, I swear, I can't figure out why in the hell you put up with all this shit!"

With that, he turned and walked into the house, leaving me to untie the bonds holding my ankles together.

When I finally worked the knots free and wobbled into the house, I found Natalie sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee and purusing the morning paper.

"Hey, Brian," she smiled, never looking up from her paper. "Rough night, eh?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "It was really hot under that blanket. I could barely breathe..."

"Well, que' sera, sera, as the French say," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You've got a lot of stuff to do today, Brian, so suck it up and quit your bitching."

"Yes, Mistress. Would you like some breakfast, Mistress?"

"No...just a glass of juice. You better go upstairs and see if Luke wants anything, though."

I served my ex-wife her juice, then went upstairs in search of Luke. I found him sitting on the toilet, reading a magazine.

Since the door was already open, I lightly knocked on the wall outside the bathroom. Luke looked up in surprise.

"Mmmm...excuse me, sir...uh, would you like some breakfast, sir?" I asked.

"Yeah, bacon and eggs would be fine, Brian," he said, reaching for the toilet paper. I turned to go start on his breakfast, but he stopped me.

"Wait a minute," he said, smiling devilishly. "Come over here." He pointed to the toilet paper roll on the wall. "You do it."

I gulped. "D-d-do what, sir?"

"You know what. What good is having a slave if you don't get these little perks once in awhile?" He pointed to the toilet paper again. "Get over here, Brian, and wipe my ass for me!"

I knew better than to argue. I submissively knelt before him and reached for the toilet paper. After tearing off a wad, I reached between his legs and began gingerly wiping his ass. I felt his balls tickling my arm as I continued my wiping.

"Consider yourself lucky, Brian," Luke said, towseling my hair. "I could've made you do this with your tongue. And someday, I just might, at that!"

"T-thank you, sir," I said, knowing full well that he wasn't just making an idle threat.

After my master was clean, he got up from the toilet, his pants still around his ankles. His dick was hanging right in front of my face, and he grabbed it by the base and started rubbing it over my lips. "Kissy-kissy!" he said, and I leaned forward and planted a soft, demure kiss on the tip of his penis.

 

"Enough, fag," he said, pushing my head away. "Make sure you wash your goddamned hands before you start making my food!"

He turned and left me kneeling in the bathroom. I felt like a complete piece of shit. Was there no limit to my slavery? Wiping another man's ass! What had I come to?

Pride? Ha! I lost that a long time ago.

I sadly flushed the toilet - a chore Luke had kindly left for me to do. Then I washed my hands and started on his breakfast.

Luke ate in the living room and watched television while Natalie did her morning stint on the stairmaster. I stood behind the couch, like I always do whenever one of my masters is eating, waiting for any possible orders. This time, Luke was content with his meal, though, and he only called on me once to refill his coffee cup.

Natalie finished her workout and walked past me toward the shower. "Brian, make sure my white shorts outfit is ready," she said over her shoulder as she breezed into the bathroom.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied. "Uh...sir?" I asked Luke, who was busy watching "Meet the Press."

"Yeah, Brian, what is it?"

"Sir, Mistress wants me to iron her outfit. Do you need anything else before I go?"

Luke didn't answer me. He was too wrapped up in his program, and my little question obviously wasn't important enough to warrant an answer.

Still, I knew I'd better get permission before I left his service. I waited patiently for another minute, then repeated my question: "Uh, sir...do you need anything before I go iron Mistress' outfit?"

Luke turned toward me, annoyed. "Go, go, go!" he said, then turned back toward the TV.

I tiptoed past him and rushed upstairs.

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 17

by c.w. cobblestone

As soon as Luke came storming through the front door, I knew I was in for a rough night.

I can always tell when he's pissed about something, and tonight he was PISSED. I shuddered as I tentatively approached him, cold glass of beer in hand.

"Good evening, sir," I said in my most polite voice, not daring to look him in the eye. "Would you like a cold beer, sir?"

Luke snarled at me viciously. Then, without any kind of warning he reared back and slapped the frosty mug from my hand, spilling beer all over my shirt. The glass rolled down my chest then shattered on the hardwood floor.

"Stay out of my way tonight, asshole!" Luke screamed, jabbing his finger at me. "I've had a rough fuckin' day, and if you piss me off I'll fuckin' tear your ass to ribbons, you hear me? Now clean up that fuckin' mess!"

"Yes, sir," I said sadly as I headed off to the kitchen to retrieve the broom and dustpan.

After I'd cleaned up the broken glass and wiped up the beer, I went back into the kitchen to finish dinner. Thankfully, Luke's attention was diverted by the evening news while I cooked.

As I was putting the finishing touches on the evening meal, I heard Natalie come in through the front door.

"Briiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaannnnn!" she called out in that spoiled-brat tone of hers. "Get out here!"

I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel and hurried into the living room. My ex-wife was just getting comfortable on the sofa next to Luke.

"Yes, Mistress, what is it?" I asked respectfully as I approached her.

"I've got a bunch of files in the car on the Lloyd case," she said dismissively as she leafed through her mail. "Go get 'em and take 'em to the den."

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, then rushed to the garage to retrieve her files.

There were five heavy boxes full of papers and manilla folders, so I had to make five trips up and down the stairs. I was almost out of breath as I trudged back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

Tonight's menu called for fettucini, one of my specialties. As I was busy setting the table, Natalie and Luke sauntered into the dining room holding hands. They made themselves comfortable while I carried out my dinner routine. First, I lit two candles and set them onto the dining room table. Then I served my wife first (always ladies first, per Master Luke), then I filled Luke's plate.

After ensuring that everything was okay for the first course, I retreated to the corner of the room and stood at attention with my hands folded neatly in front of me, a slight smile on my face. Natalie insists that I maintain a smile while I'm in her service - "Nobody likes a pouting slave," is the way she put it.

As I stood there listening to their dinner conversation, I discovered why Luke was in such a bad mood: he'd just lost a big case - and worse yet, it was one he thought he should have won.

"I can't believe that fuckin' McCallister," he said, referring to the presiding judge. "How could he have overruled my objection? The whole goddamn case hinged on that one point and he knew it!"

Natalie pursed her lips. "Any chance for an appeal?"

Luke shook his head. "Hell, no," he said, taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully. "They tried to appeal the exact same case in '89 and District shot it down."

They were quiet for a few minutes as they dove into their food. They appeared to enjoy the meal, but no compliments were forthcoming. Not that I expected any, of course.

A sudden chill ran through me when I looked up and saw Luke staring at me with a dark, hateful look in his eyes. I tried to avert my eyes and keep them trained subissively on the carpet. But I couldn't ignore his icy-blue stare, and try as I might, I found myself glancing up at my master.

Big mistake.

"What're you lookin' at, creep?" he hissed. "Fuckin' low-life, I don't like people eye-balling me while I'm trying to eat!"

I cleared my throat nervously. "I-I'm sorry, sir," I said quietly. I knew better to mention the fact that HE was staring at ME.

Unfortunately, though, my apology wasn't enough. Not tonight, anyway.

"Brian, I already told you once: don't piss me off," he said. "Well, asshole, tonight there ain't gonna be any second chances. Get your ass upstairs in the bathroom - we're gonna have a little visit with Black Betty!"

I felt the blood drain from my face. Oh, God, please, I thought - not Black Betty! I wanted to beg Luke to reconsider...but of course, I knew that would only add to my punishment.

Black Betty! It had been a long time since either of them had used that one on me. It's terrible - after I've been raped by Black Betty, I have trouble walking for a week. It's really an ungodly dildo, and it's usually reserved for only the worst infractions.

Or, as was the case tonight, when Luke is really in a pissed-off mood.

"What are you standin' there for?!?" Natalie demanded. "Didn't Luke just give you an order?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then get your sorry ass upstairs and wait in the bathroom!"

I literally ran up the stairs. I went into the bathroom, got undressed, then bent over the bathtub. I knew the drill by now.

I waited there for at least a half-hour before Luke finally finished his meal and came upstairs. As I listened to his approaching footsteps, my heart filled with terror.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him enter the bathroom brandishing the terrible instrument of torture. I gulped as I saw the crazed look in his eyes - he was out to cause some serious damage tonight!

"No lube tonight, Brian," he announced in a flat tone of voice. "I told you not to piss me off! And I better not hear a peep out of you, either - or you'll get 200 strokes with the cane, I swear to God!"

I set my jaw and tried to steel myself for what was about to happen.

And then it happened.

There was no pretense of being gentle; Luke roughly grabbed the skin on my ass and spread my ass-cheeks as wide as they would go. Then in one massive thrust, he shoved the monster phallus up my rectum, and I nearly screamed out loud. Somehow - I don't know how - I managed to keep my mouth shut. I just bit my lip and tried to absorb the pain.

Luke began shoving the dildo in and out of my ass with a force that made me fear for my life. One thing was for sure: he certainly wasn't playing around tonight!

After about 15 minutes of blinding, torturous pain, Luke gave the dildo one final thrust, lodging it deep in my rectal passage.

"There, you ugly piece of shit!" he spat at me. "Now you can just keep that in there until I tell you otherwise!"

With that, he grabbed a towel, wiped his sweaty brow, then tossed the used towel over my head. He walked out of the bathroom, leaving me bent over the bathtub with the huge dildo stuck up my butt, a towel draped over my head and tears flowing from my eyes.

I'd never felt so utterly used and abused in my life, and for the thousanth time, I seriously contemplated leaving this dysfunctional situation.

But in the end, I gathered myself, got dressed, then walked gingerly down the stairs to clean up after dinner. With each step, the dildo would work itself in and out of my ass, causing me to walk with my legs spread out like a cowboy who'd been riding his horse too long.

When Natalie saw me walking like that, she held her hand up to her mouth and giggled like a little girl. "Awww, poor little Brian! Did mean, old Luke tear you a new asshole?" she asked in mock sympathy.

"Y-yes, Mistress," I sniffed as I began clearing the dinner table.

Natalie snickered, then got up from the table and started to strut out of the kitchen. Just as she was about to leave the room, she turned and addressed me again.

"Brian, you really ought to learn not to piss Luke off when he's lost a case!" she said, managing to almost sound human. "You're such a dumb-fuck - when are you ever going to learn?" She shook her head and threw her hands up in the air. "When the hell are you ever going to learn?" she repeated.

I wanted to explain to her that I hadn't done anything - all I did was LOOK at Luke. What kind of infraction is that?

But such is the life of a slave. Why try to make sense of it?

I waddled around all evening finishing my chores while Natalie and Luke curled up on the couch and watched television. Every time I entered the room, Natalie would giggle and tell Luke that I looked like a duck.

Later in the evening, when I was carrying a basket of laundry up to their room, Natalie stopped me.

"Come here, Brian, you look absolutely ridiculous," she laughed. "You look like a goddamn duck! Put the basket down and come over here!"

I stutter-stepped over to where Natalie and Luke were snuggling. "Turn around," she said.

I didn't have time to brace myself as Natalie's foot shot out and kicked me hard in the butt, pushing the dildo even further up my ass. I yelped like a puppy, which earned me another kick, this time in the ribs.

"Shut up, you fuckin' crybaby!" Natalie snarled. She leaned back and rested her head on Luke's chest. Luke started playing with her brown locks of hair as they both sat there looking at me with cruel smiles on their faces.

"Brian, I want some entertainment," Natalie said. "I want you to touch your toes 10 times for me. And count out loud."

Luke laughed and kissed her on top of her head. "That's a good one, honey!" he exclaimed.

"I guess I'm just a little ol' comedienne!" Natalie bantered back.

It was pure torture. Every time I bent down to touch my toes, the dildo would slide out of me. Then when I stood back up, it would ease back in. Luckily, my pants were keeping it from totally sliding out - I knew if that happened I'd be in for an ass-whipping, at least.

After I grunted out my ten-count, Natalie dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

"We're gonna go to bed, Brian, so make sure everything's ready for us," she ordered. "And don't forget to leave a glass of water on my nightstand."

"Yes, Mistress."

I waddled back upstairs to make sure everything was ready for their bedtime. As they strolled into the bedroom, I got up the courage to ask Luke the question I'd been wanting to ask all night.

"Uh, sir...is it okay if I take Black Betty out now, sir?"

Luke stopped and looked at Natalie. "I dunno, honey, what do you think?"

Natalie smiled devilishly and held her finger up to her lips. "Nawwwww...let the toady spend the night in agony," she said. "He's been getting a little cocky lately, and a night with Black Betty up his ass will do him some good, I think!"

Luke laughed and patted me on the head. "Sorry, Brian, you heard the littel lady. Boy, she sure can be a bitch sometimes, can't she Brian?" he asked. "Now I can see why you divorced her!"

They both cracked up at that one. After their laughter died down, Luke grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me out of their bedroom.

I stood in the hallway like a fool, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in my backside and listening to their giggles from behind the door.

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 18

by c.w. cobblestone

Friday was approaching, the big night we were all waiting for. Luke was finally coming home from his trip. And believe it or not, I was going to be happy to see him.

He'd been gone for 10 days on business - a big case in New York - and Natalie was simply impossible to live with. She obviously missed her husband. She kept telling me how horny she was. And, unfortunately, after Luke had been gone a few days, she began taking her frustrations out on me.

I couldn't do anything right that week. One night, she threw her drink in my face because she said it wasn't cold enough. Another time, when she found a spot on the kitchen tile, she took a soda out of the fridge and spilled it all over the floor.

"Now, do it over again, Brian!" she chided me. "And it better be clean this time!"

With that, she sauntered out of the room, leaving me to clean up the mess she'd deliberately made.

But there was a bright side to her agitation. It led to one of the most golden nights of my life - I was allowed the privilege of licking her pussy. Not once, but three times!

It had been almost a year since I'd had the honor of putting my mouth anywhere near my ex-wife's sacred vagina. I couldn't believe my luck. Three times in one night!

It happened a couple nights after Luke left. I was downstairs polishing the silverware when Natalie called me into her bedroom. I found her lying on the bed, wearing one of Luke's shirts and smoking a cigarette. She didn't have any panties on, and I gasped as I caught a glimpse of her heavenly vagina.

She crooked her finger at me. "Get over here, Brian, I need a good pussy-lickin'!" she ordered with a devilish glint in her eye. I couldn't believe my ears! Natalie saw the surprised expression on my face and smiled that superior little smile of hers. She knew damn well that I would die for just a taste of her pussy, and I could tell by the look in her eye that she was relishing the power she held over me.

It was all I could do to keep from hyperventilating as I tentatively approached my lounging ex-wife.

I knelt onto the carpet at the foot of the bed and awaited further instructions. Big mistake.

"What are you waiting for, asshole?" she snarled at me. "Didn't I just tell you to do something? Get your ugly ass up here and start lickin'! Or..." she smiled knowingly, "don't you want to lick my pussy?"

"Oh, no, Mistress - I mean, yes, Mistress...I do want to lick your beautiful pussy!" I blurted. "Please, Natalie, please...I'm sorry..."

"Well, then, quit your blubbering and come lick me, toad!" she shot back as she leaned back and spread her legs.

I couldn't move fast enough. I scrambled onto the king-sized bed and lowered my head between Natalie's creamy thighs. I could smell her divine fragrance as my face respectfully approached her pussy.

I must've been taking too long, because Natalie suddenly grabbed my hair and shoved my face between her thighs. She held onto my hair, roughly guiding the action as I began worshipping her for all I was worth. I was so happy, I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes.

Without a word, Natalie reached down and covered herself with the thick comforter at the foot of the bed. As the heavy blanket descended over my head, I was plunged into a world of darkness. After a few minutes, the air underneath the blanket got quite stuffy, and I was having a hard time breathing. To make matters worse, Natalie clamped her legs tightly around my head, further cutting off my air supply. But I knew better than to stop.

Besides, I didn't want to stop. So what if I couldn't breathe? What a way to go!

It's funny the things that go through your mind at the most inappropriate times: while I was licking my ex-wife's pussy, all I could think about was how comfortable her bed was. I don't get many opportunities to lie on my mistress and master's bed, and the contrast between their luxurious bed and my wore-out bunk mattress in the basement was striking.

Natalie kept me under the covers for nearly an hour. She flicked through the television channels as she enjoyed three leisurely orgasms. They weren't the kind of loud, animal orgasms she usually had with Luke - these were more subdued.

Natalie had just had her second orgasm when I fucked up, big time.

I don't know how it happened, but while I was licking Natalie's pussy, I accidentally let a fart escape. As soon as I did, I knew I was in for it.

Natalie reached down and slapped me harder than I've ever been slapped before. She repeated her blows - BAM! BAM! BAM! - three more hard slaps. Actually, the last two were more like punches, and they caught me right in the eye.

"Fuckin' disgusting pig - what the hell's wrong with you?" Natalie screamed. She reached down and hit me once again, this time landing a blow on my ear, causing bells to go off in my head. "If you ever do that nasty shit again, you'll hang in the garage for a week, I swear to God!" she spat.

I knew she wasn't joking. I tried to stifle my whimpering, lest she hear me and hit me again. I lowered my head and continued to respectfully kiss and lick her pussy, which, unfortunately, I couldn't see in the darkness under the covers.

Finally, after her third orgasm, Natalie tired of my tongue. She literally kicked me off the bed, catching my armpit with her foot and pushing me until I tumbled off the mattress. "Okay, Brian, that's enough," she said in an even tone of voice as I fell onto the carpet with a thud. "Go get me an iced tea."

I scurried away to fetch her drink, my heart full of sadness. This had been one of the most exciting moments of my life, but to Natalie, it wasn't even worth mentioning. "Go get me glass of iced-tea, Brian." That was it. I guess a slave like me isn't worth saying thank-you to...

I stepped out of the bedroom, and on my way down to the kitchen I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. With horror, I realized that Natalie's earlier punches had given me a black eye. I hoped she wouldn't be too mad about it.

As soon as I returned with Natalie's iced-tea, she saw my black eye and giggled. "I guess I popped you pretty good, didn't I, Brian?" she said as I handed her her drink. "Maybe that'll teach you a lesson - don't you ever fart in my presence again, you hear me?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said sadly.

"Good. Now turn off the TV and get out of here," she said, stretching her arms and stifling a yawn. "Get me my pajamas first."

I carried out her final orders of the day, then went downstairs to finish my daily chores. I could feel her pussy juice beginning to dry on my cheeks, and as I got out the bucket and scrub-brush, I vowed that I'd never wash my face again!

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave," part 19

by c.w. cobblestone

Given all the humiliating episodes I'd been forced to endure at the hands of my ex-wife and her new husband, I figured there was no way I could sink any lower. But as soon as I caught a glimpse of the frilly French maid's outfit lying on Natalie's bed, I realized once again that my life was in her hands - and from the looks of things, she had plans to take me even deeper into the abyss.

"Isn't it cute, Brian?" she asked, holding the pink garment up for me to see. "I ordered it from a fetish catalog Laura had. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for you!"

I didn't know what to say. Natalie was already agitated - Luke was due to return from his business trip the next day, and she was climbing the walls. Natalie had used my mouth twice while Luke was away, but as she put it, "your tongue is nice, but it  just doesn't do the trick like a dick."

So she was in a bitchy mood, and I didn't want to say anything to set her off. Thus, I chose my words carefully.

"Uh...Natalie, why do you want me to...wear...that? I don't understand."

"Because, Brian, I already told you: It suits you perfectly," she said with an air of annoyance. "Everybody already knows you're a little sissy, Brian. You were born to wear a maid's outfit! Think about it: isn't that pretty much what you are already, Brian - a maid? Lord knows, you spend enough time doing housework around here. So what's the difference?"

"Well...Natalie, it's just that...well, it's embarrassing!" I pleaded.

"Embarrassing?!!?" she shouted. I could tell she was starting to get pissed. "How could a worm like you find ANYTHING embarrassing? Let's see, now: you've sucked Luke's cock, and licked his ass while he fucked me...you've drank both of our piss...you've spent the night with your head in the toilet - what the hell could possibly embarrass you, Brian?"

I had no answer, so I wisely dropped the subject. "D-Do you think that outfit will look good on me, Natalie?" I asked, trying to somehow appease her.

"Hell, no, it won't look good on you!" she snapped. "You're a dweeb, Brian - nothing's going to look good on you! But we'll do the best we can with what we have to work with, won't we, sweetie?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good!" My beautiful ex-wife stood up and handed me the maid's outfit. "The first thing I want you to do is go downstairs and shave all your body hair from the neck down. I'll pluck those eyebrows for you later. We want you to be the perfect little slut-whore by the time my honey gets home tomorrow, don't we, Brian?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"But don't get dressed yet - when you're done shaving, bring your ass back upstairs," she said. "I want to inspect you."

"Yes, Mistress."

I trudged down to the basement utility sink and began soaping up my legs. It felt strange to be shaving in places I'd never shaved before. It felt especially weird when I shaved my dick and balls.

I wasn't sure if Natalie wanted me to shave my arms, too. After thinking about it for a second, I decided to err on the side of caution and shave them anyway, both the forearms and the shoulders. After all, she'd specified that I was to shave everything below my neck - and orders, I knew from experience, was to be taken verbatum.

When I was finished, I stepped in front of the mirror. I was aghast: with my hairless, pink skin, I looked like a plucked chicken!

When I went back upstairs for my inspection, I found Natalie sitting in the living room talking on the phone. As soon as she caught sight of me, she almost fell off the couch laughing.

She finally caught her breath, and began to report my plight to whomever she was talking with. "Oh, my God, you oughtta see him!" she squealed. "He looks like the friggin' Pillsbury Dough Boy!"

Natalie laughed again. "That's funny! You have to see him - what are you doing right now?" She paused and smiled. "Great! Come on by!"

Natalie hung up the phone and looked at me. "That was Laura," she informed me. "She's on her way over right now. She wants to see the new you - so just stay right there and don't move!"

I felt stupid standing naked in the middle of the living room, but, of course, I remained glued to the spot. Natalie left me standing there and sauntered upstairs. I heard her open the bathroom door. I strained my ears, and I could hear the sound of the toilet seat being put down. Then I heard that familiar musical tinkle as my beloved ex-wife relieved herself. Finally, I could hear her peeling off a wad of toilet paper, then in a few seconds the toilet flushed.

Hey, I don't get much in the way of sex, so listening to Natalie take a pee is a big thrill for me!

When she was finished in the bathroom, I could hear her pittering around in her bedroom.

After about 10 minutes, the doorbell rang. "C'mon in!" Natalie sang from upstairs.

The door flew open and Laura pranced into the house. Predictibly, she laughed her ass off when she saw me.

Natalie came down the stairs with a smile on her face. "I told you, didn't I?" she asked. "Didn't I tell you how funny it was? Take a look at that little hairless dick!"

Laura scoffed. "Well, at least without any pubic hair, his pee-pee looks a little bit bigger," she observed wryly.

"Yeah - now it looks like it's 2 inches long, instead of one!" Natalie shot back. Their peals of laughter burned my ears.

When they caught their breath, Natalie looked at me with a sneer and haughtily snapped her fingers. "Brian, go get your maid uniform and show it to my friend," she said. "Chop-chop! And make sure you bring everything: the stockings, the heels...and there's a small makeup kit in my travel bag. Grab that, too. Move!"

With a beating heart, I rushed off to retrieve the tools of my impending humiliation.

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later I found myself standing at attention in the living room, red-faced and unable to look at either my ex-wife or her friend, who were lounging on the couch inspecting me. I felt utterly ridiculous standing there in that stupid maid's outfit - which was the whole point, I suppose.

"Brian, the first thing we need to do is to pluck those eyebrows," Natalie told me. "So go get the tweezers from the bathroom."

I returned with the tweezers and knelt in front of the couch, per Natalie's instructions. She cupped my chin in her hand and moved my face slowly from side to side.

"What do you think, Laura? Should we go with a pencil-thin, slutty look, or should we leave a little eyebrow there?"

"Oh, definitely the slutty look," Laura said without hesitation. "I mean, you want the little bitch to turn Luke on, don't you? Guys always like the slut look." I shot Laura a quick, spiteful glance; thank God she didn't notice.

Natalie agreed and began yanking out my eyebrow hairs with the tweezers. It hurt like hell, but she didn't seem to care as she merrily went about her task, giggling with Laura about how much fun this was.

After about 10 minutes, Natalie stopped to inspect her handiwork. "Oh, my God - that's PERFECT!" she exclaimed.

Laura agreed. "They look great, Nat!" she said. "He's looking more and more like a street whore every minute! Now let's see what our little whore looks like with makeup!"

"I was just thinking that same thing!" Natalie exclaimed. "Brian, hand me that makeup bag."

My head was pounding as my ex-wife began applying the humiliating colors to my face. Laura piped in with a steady stream of suggestions: "Make sure you put lots of rouge on her cheeks - we want Luke to come home to not only a slut - but a cheap slut!"

I noticed that Laura had called me "her." I swallowed hard and tried to block it all out.

When they were finished, Natalie told me to stand up again. "Twirl around, Brian," she said. "And do it very ladylike!"

"Yeah, like a ballerina!" Laura added.

I spun around about 10 times before they let me quit. Then they had me do a "stripper dance" for them, while they both hummed the ubiquitous stripper song: "Dah-dah, dah-dah, dah-dah-dah-da-da-da, dah, dah-dah-dah, dah-dah, da-da-da-da - DAH-DAH! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"

I was finding it difficult to continue my strip-tease in the five-inch heels I was wearing, but Natalie and Laura didn't notice as they sat back on the couch and enjoyed the show. Their derisive comments between their bursts of laughter weren't making it any easier on me: "Shake that ass!"..."Yeah, that's right...now lick your lips...no, do it SEDUCTIVELY, Brian! Pretend you're licking up Luke's cum!"..."Show us some leg!"...."Work that butt, slut! Work it!!!"

Finally, they got tired of  playing games with me, and I was sent off to fetch drinks. After I served them, I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Natalie conversed with her friend for a moment, oblivious to my presence. After a few minutes, she noticed me standing there and summarily told me to get lost.

I had a lot of housework to catch up on, so I was grateful for the reprieve. It was hard trying to navigate in the high heels that were part of my ensemble. It was particularly difficult to scrub the kitchen floor without running my stockings. But I managed somehow.

While I worked in the next room, I was able to pick up snippets of Natalie and Laura's conversation.

"Damn, Laura, I can't WAIT until Luke gets back tomorrow," I heard Natalie say. "I've been so fucking horny, even Brian was starting to look good!"

"Oh, Lord, girlfriend, you DO have it bad!" Laura replied with a giggle. "Well I'll bet you one thing: I bet Brian doesn't look very appealing now, wearing that sissy outfit, does he?"

"Well, it depends," my beloved ex-wife answered. "I suppose, if I were a truck driver looking for a quick blowjob, little Miss Maid in there would look just peachy!!"

"Maybe you ought to make him go hang out at a few truck stops," Laura mused. "He might be able to pick up some extra money for you guys!"

There was a pause, then Natalie said, "we have to come up with a name for our new maid. Brian just isn't a good maid name, is it?"

"No it isn't," Laura said. "Let's see...what would be a good name for him? Brianna?"

"No...that sounds too classy for the little slut," Natalie answered. "She's a cheap whore, remember? How about Tinkerbell?"

Laura cracked up. "That's perfect!" she cried. "Little Miss Tinkerbell!"

"So be it!" Natalie declared. "From now on, whenever he's dressed as our maid, his name - or should I say, 'her' name - will be Tinkerbell!"

I winced. "Tinkerbell?!?" What kind of sissified name was that?!!? It was the worst name they could've possibly conjured up!

And, on top of the humiliation I was feeling at the moment, I was dreading having to endure Luke's taunts when he got home and found out about Natalie's latest "experiment."

I was finished in the kitchen, so I went upstairs to change the sheets on the bed. I was unable to hear what Natalie and Laura were talking about, but I heard a lot of giggling.

After awhile, Natalie called for me, and I moved as fast as the heels would allow.

"Brian, we have an announcement to make," Natalie said. "From now on, your new name is Tinkerbell. Any questions?"

"N-n-no...no, Mistress."

"Good! Another thing: Laura came up with a great idea. She knows a guy who does piercings. We're going to get your little pee-pee pierced. Then we're going to have a little bell attached to the ring. You know, in keeping with your new name and all. That way, when you walk around, you'll constantly be reminded of your new status."

I blanched. I prayed they were joking, but I knew better.

Laura said, "Yeah, Slim is a good friend of mine; he'll do the piercing for me and not ask any questions. I'll call him when I get home and try to set up an appointment for tomorrow."

Tomorrow?!? I didn't think they were planning to do this so soon!

 

*      *      *

THE NEXT DAY....

I sat in my basement room alone, studying my new jewelry and trying to hold back the tears. The head of my penis was still swollen from the piercing, and it hurt like hell. But even worse than the pain was the little gold bell, permanently attached to the ring in my dick.

Every time I moved, its dainty jingle taunted me. Natalie was right: I couldn't make a move without being constantly reminded of my lowly status.

I looked at the clock. Eight-thirty. Luke still wasn't home; his flight was due to land at six, but he'd called earlier from the airport to tell Natalie there was a delay. So now, he was due home around nine o'clock.

That meant I had only a half-hour to get ready. Natalie had the whole night planned out: I was to stay in the basement until she was ready to spring her surprise. Earlier in the evening, Natalie had made up my face and put on my wig. Then she sent me to the basement to get dressed and wait.

I put off wearing the pink maid's outfit as long as I could. With only 15 minutes to go, however, I figured I'd better start getting dressed.

As I struggled into the humiliating costume, I wondered if this was going to be a regular event. I hoped not. Natalie and Luke had taken everything from me - now they even wanted to confiscate my gender.

And, worse yet was the terrible name Natalie had cooked up for me. Tinkerbell?!? It was so ridiculous, it was almost surreal.

But I knew my humiliation meant absolutely nothing to my ex-wife. Natalie was doing all this as a way to surprise Luke - whether I liked it or not was totally immaterial to her.

After I was dressed, I sat on my bed, stiff as a board. I couldn't keep my eyes off the clock, and I watched as the second hand circled methodically toward my doom.

 

 

The continuing adventures of Brian, Natalie and Luke

(or...Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave 20)

 

My little pee-pee bell tinkled with nervous anticipation as I stood meekly by the front door, clutching a frosty mug of beer. The footsteps on the porch were getting louder. Luke was home! I gripped the mug's handle a little tighter and took a deep breath.

The door swung open, then Luke breezed right past me, heading straight for Natalie. The manly scent of Luke's aftershave lingered in his wake. I shuffled dutifully behind my master into the living room. I was having a tough time walking in my heels, but I managed to make it into the next room, where I stood behind the embracing couple, holding Luke's cold beer while he made out with Natalie.

I was entranced by their embrace: Luke started stroking my ex-wife's face with his hands as he covered every inch of her neck with burning kisses. Natalie threw her head back and purred.

After a minute, Luke finally straighted up and opened his eyes. When he did, he noticed me. Then he laughed his ass off.

"Oh, my Gawd, he almost looks like a girl!" he sputtered. "What a great idea!"

Natalie seemed pleased that Luke found my maid's outfit so amusing. I suppose that was the whole point.

"Honey, I just wanted you to have a little bitch of your own!" Natalie explained. "We call her 'Tinkerbell.'"

Luke guffawed. "'Tinkerbell?' Jeeeeezzz!"

Natalie grabbed her husband's arm. "Luke, there's a reason we call her Tinkerbell." She looked at me. "Do your little dance, Tinkerbell. Do it for Luke."

Still holding the mug of beer, I started swirling my hips like a go-go-girl, causing the little bell on my dick to jingle musically. Luke couldn't believe it - he made me stop dancing and ordered me to come closer so he could inspect my humiliating, permanent jewelry.

I had to stand there holding my skirt aloft with one hand, with the beer in the other, while Luke inspected my hairless genitals. He was fascinated by the piercing, and he kept twisting my wee-wee painfully back and forth, testing the ring's resistance.

"Damn, Natalie, this thing can never come off, can it?" he asked.

"Nope. One of Laura's biker friends hooked it up. We thought it would be a nice surprise for you."

"Well, it certainly was!" Luke said, still pulling on the gold ring. Then, with his thumb and forefinger, Luke held my wee-wee and jingled the little bell back and forth:

"Dingalingalingaling!"

Natalie laughed. "Sounds like 'Jingle Bells.'"

"Yeah!"

With that, Luke started playing the first few bars of 'Jingle Bells' with my cock, to the accompaniment of Natalie's raucous laughter. Then he shook my penis really fast, building to a crescendo to finish off his humiliating little song. To tell the truth, his hand actually felt good, jiggling my little wee-wee like that. It's rare for anyone to touch me sexually, and I tried to hold my breath and not show my arousal. Unfortunately, after a few seconds Luke removed his hand and slapped my penis hard.

"My shit's all in the car," Luke told me as he kicked his shoes across the room. He took the cold beer from my hand. "Unpack everything, and get those suits to the dry cleaners ASAP. I have two meetings on Monday."

"Yes, sir."

I was putting away Luke's toiletries when Natalie me from the bedroom.

"Brian, come here - Luke wants to see his new bitch!"

I gulped. This was it.

I walked into the bedroom, where Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had on a bathrobe.

Luke smiled at me as I stood nervously before him. He looked me up and down, appraising his "bitch." I felt like a cold piece of meat.

"Kneel down, whore!" he finally said. I dropped to my knees like I'd been shot.

He played with the earring in my right ear. "You know, the little fag actually doesn't look so bad!" Luke said to Natalie. "I still can't believe it - you guys did this just for me?"

"Yep," Natalie said. "We thought after your hard week on the road, you could use a little bitch to take care of you."

My master held my chin in his fingers and lifted my head up until my eyes met his. I stared into his steel blue gaze. He leered at me, and I lowered my eyes submissively.

"I sure appreciate it, Natalie," Luke said. A cold look of pure lust formed on his face. "I think I can find a way to make the little bitch useful..."

 

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave 21"

by c.w. cobblestone

Bang! Ungh! Bang! Ungh! Bang! Ungh! Bang! Ungh! Bang! Ungh!

My head rammed methodically into the oak headboard, thumping painfully to the rhythm of Luke's devastating hip-thrusts. Every time his terrible cock hit home, I grunted with pain. Even the sweatsock that was stuffed in my mouth couldn't muffle my anguished moans.

Through a watery haze of tears, I could see Natalie, curled up like a cat on the bed next to us. She was smoking a cigarette, idly watching me get raped.

"Work that ass, bitch!" Luke grunted, slamming even harder into my poor rectum. He slapped me hard on the back of the head, and I desperately tried to thrust my butt up to meet his jackhammer cock.

I couldn't think. All I felt was blinding pain. The only thoughts that did manage to creep into my conciousness were humiliating realizations of my sorry lot in life. Once again, I peeked over at Natalie. She wasn't even looking at me - she was watching her masterful husband with a look of feminine admiration on her pretty face.

"Is the little bitch's pussy-hole tight, Luke?" Natalie sat up and began stroking her husband's chest. "Does it feel good?"

"Mmmmmmm!"

Natalie sat up and nuzzled her head on Luke's shoulder. Sensuously, she began licking his ear. "Do it, honey," she whispered, "Make the bitch suffer. She likes it. Don't you, Brian?" She put her foot on the side of my head and kicked out, causing my head to snap sideways. I quickly righted myself and assumed the proper position for being butt-fucked.

"Mfffnfffff," I answered through Luke's sweatsock.

Luke picked up the pace, urged on by his wife's soft caresses. I could hear her behind me, whispering in his ear: "Come on, baby. Do it. DO IT. Cum in the little sissy's ass! Make the little bitch suffer!"

Finally, Luke let out a moan of pure, anguished lust, and I felt his hot juice deep inside my bowels. After a protracted orgasm, Luke collapsed onto the bed, bringing Natalie down with him in a tangled heap.

I didn't get much a chance to rest; within a few seconds, I heard Luke's tired voice say: "Get up here, bitch, and clean this shit off my dick!"

Reluctantly, I removed the sock from my mouth and repositioned myself. When I started licking my shit from my master's cock, Natalie wrinkled up her nose in disgust.

"That's gross!" she said, rolling off the bed. "I don't want to watch that nasty shit - I'm going downstairs."

Natalie got up and stomped across the bedroom carpet. Luke laughed. "Don't be mad, honey - I had to get it cleaned off somehow."

"I'm not mad at you, baby," Natalie said. "But him - " she pointed at me, " - he's a disgusting pig!"

Luke ruffled my hair. "Awwww...don't be so mean to our little Tinkerbell," he said. "She's doing the best she can."

Even though I knew Luke was just bullshitting with his wife, it felt good to hear him stick up for me like that. As my head bobbed faithfully up and down on my master's dick, I felt a strange pride glowing inside me.

I hated myself for it, but I now was at the point where I'd do anything to please my master. At first, when Luke entered the picture, I resented him for taking Natalie away from me. But I'd grown to understand that this was how things were meant to be. It's simple, really: There are alpha males, and there are wimps like me. I knew I could either accept that fact, or go crazy trying to figure it all out.

Since I was trying so hard to please Luke with my lips, it was especially humiliating when he suddenly reached down and yanked me off his dick by my hair.

"That's enough - Jeez, you're slobbering all over my dick!" Luke admonished. "Go bring me a towel."

As I scurried into the bathroom, I could feel Luke's semen starting to leak from my butthole.

I helped Luke towel off his wet dick, then I fetched a pair of sweats for him to put on. While he was dressing, I worked up the courage to ask him a question:

"Um...sir?"

"Yeah, what?"

"Uh...can I have permission to...um...clean up?"

Luke chuckled. "Sure thing, Brian - I mean, Tinkerbell," he said. "I must've left a big, ol' load up that butt. How's it feeling?"

"It hurts very much, sir."

"Well, slut - compliments will get you nowhere!" he said, balling up the towel and throwing it in my face. "Now, go on - clean yourself up and get started on dinner!"

"Yes, sir."

I limped sadly out of the bedroom.

"Madam Prosecutor’s Cuckold Slave" chapter 22

by c.w. cobblestone

As a slave, my erotic pleasures are few and far between. My hand is my best friend; nobody else cares about my satisfaction.

But, occasionally, I'm allowed to enjoy one morsel of sensuality that I dearly cherish: Doing Natalie's toenails.

Last Tuesday was my lucky night. Natalie had a big case coming up, and she wanted to wear a red suit to impress the mostly-male jury. That meant the mauve polish had to go.

Natalie was always looking for an edge, and she made it a habit to wear open-toed shoes for her opening and closing statements to the jury. My ex-wife strongly feels an attorney's statements can make or break a case, and early in her career, she noticed how many of the male jurors would sneak peeks down at her shoes while she strutted up and down the courtroom. My wily ex-wife quickly figured out a way to fan the flames of the old geezers' fetishes: Open-toed shoes. Natalie uses every advantage, both in and out of court.

Anyway, the mauve polish had to go. And it was my distinct pleasure to be kneeling down in front of her, vigorously rubbing off the old polish with a cotton swab saturated with nail-polish remover.

Natalie had her feet on a footstool, her legs crossed at the ankles. She was watching the evening business report. Luke was in the next room, working on his computer. I had a casserole baking in the oven, and the smell wafted pleasantly into the living room.

I glanced up at my ex-wife. Her face was scrunched up quizzingly.

"Hey, Luke, didn't we just buy 100 shares of ExCorp?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"It's up $4.00 today. All tech stocks are up." Natalie turned to look at her husband, moving her foot in the process. I scrambled to shift my position so I could continue painting her toenails without missing a stroke.

Luke leaned back in his desk chair and smiled at the ceiling. "We've really had a good year," he mused, rocking back and forth in his seat. "You know, maybe we should take a couple weeks off in April and celebrate. Maybe go to Europe."

"Well, Paris is beautiful in the spring," Natalie said. "And I don't have anything on my docket next month yet. I think I could swing it."

"Why not?" Luke turned back to his computer, and got out of the database program he was working in. He launched his planner software and consulted April's calendar.

"I've got a pre-trial on the Martin case, but I can talk Hicks into bumping it, I think," Luke said. He picked up the phone and started dialing.

I continued my task at Natalie's feet, as we both listened to Luke's conversation with the judge.

"Hi, Bob. Luke. Say, sorry to bother you at home, but I was just looking at my calendar, and I noticed I have a conflicting schedule. I have to be at an arraignment the same time as the Martin pre-trial. What's the chances of getting that postponed two weeks?"

When Luke smiled, Natalie smiled with him. "Great!" Luke said, winking at my ex-wife. "Thanks, Bob. Say hi to Betty for me. Okay. Bye."

Luke hung up the phone and smirked at his wife. "Suckerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" he cackled evilly. "Hicks is getting senile; old bastard will fall for anything!"

Natalie turned to me. "Brian, tomorrow I want you to set everything up," she said. "First-class to Paris, the first week in April -- and I don't want to fly on Southeast, either, so make sure you find another airline. That bitch stewardess was rude as hell last time, and I promised I'd never fly with those assholes again."

"Yes, Mistress."

Luke chimed in with his orders: "And, Brian, you need to go to the store and pick me up another garment bag. Mine got ripped when I went to New York."

"Yes, sir."

Luke turned back to his computer, Natalie turned back to the television, and I turned back to Natalie's toes.

But the luster of being so close to my ex-wife's sexy feet was gone. I was feeling sorry for myself, as I contemplated a lonely week at home while my master and mistress played in Paree.

Imagine my surprise when Natalie suddenly said, "Luke, I think we should bring Brian with us this time. Poor thing doesn't ever get to go anywhere - plus I like the idea of having a slave pampering us in Paris."

Luke swirled in his chair and shot a sexy look at his wife. "Mmmmm..." he growled, "I can just picture it: Making love under the Eiffel Tower, while Brian licks my ass," he said.

Natalie shook her head and chuckled. "Gee, Luke, you sure know how to make a trip to Paris sound romantic," she said sarcastically.

"Okay, picture this: I'm making love to you under the Eiffel Tower, and the wimp is licking YOUR ass!"

Natalie smiled. "That's better," she said. "Ladies first - especially in Paris!"

"Paris in the springtime," Luke reminded her.

I was smiling at my superiors' banter. I was so happy, I wanted to shout! I renewed my polishing efforts with a song in my heart.

The next day was a busy one. It was Wednesday - window-washing day - and I knew I had a lot of running around to do in addition to my normal routine. I had to get up at 5 in the morning so I could get everything done.

I had all the windows in the house washed by noon, then I hopped the bus to the mall. I picked up Luke's new garment bag - it was exactly like his old one, except it was a little lighter shade of brown. I spent the rest of the day on the phone, booking hotel rooms, flight accommodations, and tickets to the ballet - two tickets.

Oh, well. I hate the ballet anyway.