My Bra Holder

If you dislike stories where the women are strong and dominant and the men serve and are submissive, then go find another story to read and criticize.

My name is Melissa, and I cuckold my husband of seven years.

I've known George for ten years. He and I see each other when he comes into town for business, about once a month. He can only spare a few hours to see me, and I appreciate him making the effort when he comes to town.

I made it clear to my husband when we started dating that George and I were continuing our relationship. He was fine with that arrangement, and to this day, wants me to enjoy my time with George.

When my husband and I were first married, he would find something else to do while George was visiting. He would either go out or hide out in the basement playing on the computer.

For a couple of years, I was happy that my husband was so thoughtful about George and I getting together. You see, my husband and I have never had sexual intercourse. We're in a tease and denial relationship. My husband wears a stainless steel chastity cage 24/7. Whenever I'm in the mood, he eats my pussy. Occasionally, I teasingly masturbate him for a couple of hours. I decide when he gets to orgasm by my hand.

So, George provides me with the sex that I need. After all, my husband is the one being teased, not me.

After a couple of years of marriage, I wanted my husband to participate more in his cuckolding. I wanted him to help me get ready for George. Searching on the Internet, all I could find was husbands helping their wives bathe and get dressed.

I already had a bath time ritual that I enjoyed. I would sit in the bathtub and shave my legs, arms, and pussy. After shaving, I would rinse off with the handheld shower. Usually, I'd be in the mood to play with myself with the handheld shower. After that, I'd stand up, wash my hair, and take a shower. I was glad that the shower had two grab bars for me to hold on to.

After showering, I would put on some makeup, and pick out a negligee to wear. It took me about two hours to get ready for George.

I asked my husband to come up with something he could do to participate in his cuckolding. It took him a few months to come up with an idea that I thought would be fun.

My husband is a masochist. In addition to the sexual teasing, he encourages me to torture him. At first, I was hesitant. You just don't torture your significant other. At least, not physically. It took me a few months to emotionally accept that he enjoyed me occasionally acting like a cruel sadistic bitch. I came to understand that it's not mean to be mean if your significant other wants a cruel sadistic bitch at times.

Since torture is something that my husband wants at times, he came up with a way for me to signal him that I'm in a sadistic mood. I created a particular outfit to wear when I'm in the mood for torture. No, it's not a corset. I wear a t-shirt that says "Cruel Bitch" over my large tits. I don't wear a bra. I wear blue jeans. Sometime during the torture, the t-shirt usually comes off. My husband loves seeing me topless in blue jeans, which is why I only wear the outfit when I'm torturing him. I'm such a tease.

Part of my teasing and denying is denying my husband my tits. The only times I allow him to see them is when I'm teasingly masturbating him or torturing him. I allow him to touch them even less often. I have my husband earn his tit touching time. He has to get me off 30 times or more with his mouth to gently caress my tits for a minute. No squeezing the tits or touching the nipples. Just soft caresses. Which I enjoy because it's a different sensation from George's manhandling.

I usually wear a bra around the house and definitely when my husband and I go out. Going braless hurts after a few hours, which is why I only go braless when George is coming over or when I'm teasingly masturbating or torturing my husband.

So the idea that my husband came up with to participate in his cuckolding was as much a torture as anything else we did. His idea was for me to lock his wrists behind his back with leather wrist restraints and a short length of chain. Next, I was to attach the chain to a hook on the wall, so he'd be standing against the wall. Next, I was to undress so I could shower. The last thing I was to take off was my bra. After letting him see me naked for a moment, I was to place the hook end of my bra in his mouth. While I showered, he would hold my bra in his clenched teeth.

When I came out of the bathroom, my bra would either still be in his clenched teeth, or on the floor. I could tell at a glance whether or not he held my bra while I showered.

I loved the idea. I decided that my husband would have to hold my bra until I finished getting ready for George, including applying my makeup and picking out a negligee to wear.

Could my husband hold my bra for two hours? I decided that it was only fair to see how long he could hold my bra.

Monday evening, after dinner, my husband went upstairs, undressed, and brought the restraints to the living room. He had already installed hooks on the walls in the bedroom and the living room, next to the tv. I locked his wrists behind his back, locked him to the wall, and gave him a $20 38C padded bra that I'd bought at Target. I wasn't going to try this with one of my $60 Nordstrom 42F bras. Not without finding out how much damage his teeth would do to a bra.

While I sat on the sofa and watched tv, he tried to hold the bra in his teeth. Unfortunately for him, he dropped the bra 5 times in the two hours I watched my programs. At least, the 5 times I noticed during commercials. I didn't appreciate getting up from the sofa 5 times to pick up the bra from the floor and have him hold it again.

Tuesday night during dinner, we discussed what happened the night before. I asked my husband if he still wanted to hold my bra for me, and he said yes. I told him that he would have to prove to me that he could hold my bra for two hours. Otherwise, it would be no fun for me to punish him for failing.

I thought about our discussion for a week and decided that I would have to train my husband to hold my bra. Basically, he would hold my bra every night after dinner until he held my bra for a full two hours without dropping it.

We discussed my idea over dinner, and my husband was agreeable. He did ask me if I would remove the bra I'd been wearing, rather than give him a clean bra. I wondered why he would prefer holding a sweaty worn bra over a clean laundered bra, but since removing the bra I'd been wearing was the original idea, I went along with his request. Also, his teeth didn't damage the Target bra.

So, starting the Monday night after dinner, I would lock my husband to the wall and he would hold my bra in his teeth while I watched my tv programs. We would do this every night until he held my bra for two hours. Little did I know at the time that it would take 38 evenings before he held my bra for two hours once. It was a good thing that I kept a diary of my husband's bra training. I wouldn't have remembered half of what happened.

Further, I instituted some rules. I would take off my top and bra to give him. My top would remain off as long as he held my bra. I thought this would give him some incentive. Since I'd be sitting on the sofa, going braless wouldn't be too painful.

If he dropped my bra once, I would put my top back on. If he dropped it again, he would get a backhand slap on his cheek. Any more drops would result in harder slaps.

My husband agreed to my rules, and we began the bra training that Monday evening. He dropped my bra on the floor 5 times in two hours. I was mad, and the last two slaps were harder than I had intended.

The next few nights ended up with the same result of 5 drops. I was resigned to getting up from the sofa during the commercials. At least I was better able to control my temper.

On night 7, my husband only dropped my bra 4 times. Progress.

On night 8, he dropped my bra 5 times. That last slap was very hard. I didn't want to see him backslide.

George flew into town and wanted to see me Saturday afternoon. I had told him about the bra training, and he asked me if he could watch my husband hold my bra. Since my husband had never seen George and me in bed together, I decided that my husband would have to wear his leather hood while he held my bra. That Saturday afternoon took the place of night 13.

It was an unlucky afternoon for my husband. I locked him in our bedroom, put his leather hood over his head, and gave him my bra to hold. His hood's eyes were zipped shut, so my husband couldn't see anything. He dropped my bra 6 times. George told me every time my husband dropped my bra. I swear it felt like George spent more time watching my husband than he did looking at me.

I feel George wanted to watch me slap my husband as many times as possible. After I slapped my husband and returned to bed, George would grab my tits and manhandle them for a few minutes. I appreciated his attention to my tits.

Again, I have my husband earn his tit touching time. He has to get me off 30 times or more to gently caress my tits for a minute. George, on the other hand, can and does manhandle my tits any way he wants to. Sometimes, he uses both hands. My tits miss the manhandling when George isn't around.

On night 14, my husband dropped my bra 4 times. Progress. I guess he was flustered the afternoon before with George in the bedroom. Or maybe I'm not paying enough attention to my husband. I do enjoy my tv programs.

By night 20, my husband was dropping my bra 3 times. Yay.

George flew into town and wanted to see me Saturday afternoon. That would have been night 27. Again, my husband joined us in the bedroom, wearing his leather hood. This time, my husband only dropped my bra twice. I feel that George was a little disappointed. He liked watching me slap my husband.

Nights 28 through 37 alternated between 2 and 3 drops. By this time I wondered whether or not my husband could hold my bra. He was still eager to prove to me he could, so we continued.

Night 38 was the magical night where my husband didn't drop my bra once. My tits were a little sore from sitting topless for two hours, but it was worth it to see how satisfied my husband was with his accomplishment.

After dinner the following night, we discussed what the reward for holding my bra and the punishment for dropping my bra would be. After some discussion, we decided that the reward would be that my husband, still locked to the wall, would be allowed to watch George and I have sex.

The punishment would be that my husband, still locked to the wall, would wear his leather hood and listen to George and I have sex. Either way, he'd stand against the wall for 5 or 6 hours, which was punishment enough as far as I was concerned.

For a few months, I was a happy camper. My husband was participating in his cuckolding. George seemed to enjoy hearing about my bra holder, although I feel he still wanted to watch me slap my husband.

One day, I realized that I had no idea how long my husband held my bra when he dropped it before I finished showering. It could have been 5 minutes or 75 minutes.

One night after dinner, I told my husband to figure something out so that I would know how long he held my bra. I wanted to adjust his punishment based on how long he held my bra.

It took him four months to find a countdown timer that would work. Bastard.

The countdown timer my husband found had a lever that shut the timer off. My husband extended the lever so that the weight of my bra would stop the timer. My bras are large, but they only weigh 14 ounces.

Once my husband fixed the countdown timer, it was easy for me to see exactly how long he held my bra. All I had to do was press the hour button twice, press the start button, and snap a clothespin on the bridge of my bra.

The best part was that even if my husband dropped my bra, it no longer landed on the floor. The string attached to the timer lever kept my bra from hitting the floor.

Now that I knew how much time my husband had on the countdown timer, I could adjust his punishment accordingly. It felt great knowing exactly how long my husband held my bra when I prepared for George.

The results were worth all of the bra training it took.