My Cuckoldress

This is a story about the slow and gradual power exchange between a stunning young woman and the man who adores her and eventually goes on to become her compliant husband. Even though I've placed this in the BDSM category, there's no bondage or S&M in this story. You will only read about the "D" in BDSM here.

If you don't enjoy reading about dominant women and the men who discover the joy in serving them, then it only makes sense not to invest your valuable time reading this story! And by ALL means, please don't read this story, whack-off, then leave some macho comment in pretense of finding this lifestyle disgusting. Such twisted attempts at self-denial fool very few people anyway!... ;-)

For those of you who do read on, I hope you enjoy!

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There's nothing particularly unusual or erotic about the initial courtship between Sherry and I, or the circumstances under which we met. Sherry was exotic, tall, leggy, and possessed perfect-sized breasts for her pleasingly slender body.

Sherry looked like she could have been the younger, but more mischievous sister of Cameron Diaz. All I can say is that the attraction I felt for her was both immediate and utterly complete!

Unlike Ms. Diaz, Sherry is a chestnut-colored brunette. But like Ms. Diaz, both woman possess a uniquely erotic look that most men would likely perceive as a huge turn-on.

Sherry is seven years my junior, but even back then seemed to have quite an edge over me in street-smarts. This says quite a lot when one considers that she was only 19 when we first met!

In terms of sexual experience, I had had my fair share of women. However, I now realize that Sherry understood the rules of attraction, whereas I had been clueless for the most part.

How can a young man be both clueless, but still fairly lucky with the ladies? I attribute this to a combination of my better-than-average looks at the time, and my carefree, let's-party attitude.

By the time I had met Sherry, I had already bedded down around 25 women. However, except for three relationships that managed to survive a few short months, the rest were either very short-term relationships or one-night stands. Don Juan? Not even close. But a fair share of women at that time in life? Absolutely.

I had always considered myself a good lover, but even then realized that I wasn't a better-than-average cocksman. My strength was in being very attentive, patient, and giving in the sack. Though not always successful, I always tried to be sure that the woman got off before I did.

The truth is, I'd always adored going down on pussy. But I'd never spoken about my sexual attributes, techniques, or desires with any female prior to Sherry. I had always felt confident that the women were enjoying themselves with me, and was content to just leave it at that. Looking back, however, I suspect that my insatiable hunger for cunnilingus and pleasing women in the sack may have prevented most of my relationships from succeeding beyond the short-term.

About two months after Sherry and I began dating, she commented about my enthusiasm and talent for cunnilingus. Hell, she really hadn't told me anything I didn't already know. After all, I'd been well-aware that she'd been enjoying multiple orgasms at the expense of my oral efforts.

Nevertheless, I felt gratified from hearing her praise. I felt SO gratified, that I actually admitted to her right then and there that I sometimes enjoyed performing cunnilingus even more than having penetrative intercourse.

My admission prompted Sherry to ask me several more questions about oral sex that night. She seemed particularly interested in why I didn't seem to enjoy receiving fellatio nearly as much as the other men she had been with in her past.

I explained that while I certainly didn't dislike or ever refused fellatio from a woman, I felt more pleasure being on the giving end of oral sex as opposed to the receiving end. From the puzzled look on her face, I may as well have been speaking Greek.

There was something about Sherry that made me feel deeply content about expressing my innermost thoughts, which was something I hadn't felt with other women.

Within days, Sherry began requesting oral sex from me, whereas she had never done so prior. Perhaps due to my favorable and eager responses, she also began requesting non-sexual favors, such as back and foot massages. I felt not only happy to comply, but also increasingly comfortable in my relationship with her. I adored giving her pleasure in any shape or form, and these simple massages soon grew to be sexually arousing acts for me. And the more I complied to her requests, the more her requests seemed to accelerate.

Sherry and I were spending so much time together that it became foolish for each of us to continue paying separate rent. So when my lease expired, I moved in with her. Soon thereafter, we began discussing our long-term future together. I was elated at the prospects of a permanent relationship with Sherry, and felt very comfortable discussing marriage.

Sherry was, by far, the most multi-orgasmic woman I had ever been with. Hell, sometimes she even squirted a little when she came real hard. I had no doubt in my mind that she was the damn best piece of ass I'd ever had. On several occasions, I even admitted these truths to her during moments of high passion, so she knew full-well how I'd felt. She encouraged me to share my innermost thoughts with her, and I felt most blissful in doing so.

Sherry and I never once discussed "Female Dominance." Hell, back then I didn't even know there was such a thing anyway. All I know is that as time passed, I spent less time with other outside interests, and more time pleasing Sherry.

Sherry seemed to bask in the glory of my attention. It didn't take much to reward me. Just a smile from her sexy face would be all I needed to be happy for the moment. On the other hand, when I did things that displeased her, she became quite angry and bitchy! It drove me crazy when she gave me the cold-shoulder or withheld sex from me!

I hadn't given it much thought as it slowly developed, but I soon found myself often doing the cooking and cleaning around her apartment too. Of course, I also did the "manly" chores as well, like washing her car, tinkering around with minor repairs, etc.

One day Sherry wanted to quit her job. I felt some initial concerns about this. However, she pointed out that I was earning more than enough money for the both of us, she hated her low-paying job, and there were two guys always hitting on her. This was the first I'd heard about the two guys, and it really bothered me. Nevertheless, it still seemed imprudent to hastily quit a job without having a definite plan-of-action in place.

Then Sherry pointed out that there would be a big bonus for us if she quit her job. Since I worked just 3 miles from her apartment, I would be able to sneak home for lunch to have even more sex with her. So I gave her my blessings, and she promptly quit her job. The afternoon delights that soon followed proved to be heaven-on-earth!

Several weeks after Sherry quit her job, she sometimes told me that she was too tired to have full sex in the evenings. I didn't really fuss about it too much, even though it seemed that not having her full-time job any longer should have given her MORE energy, not less! But when Sherry explained that I was simply wearing her out from having sex morning, noon, and night seven days a week, I secretly felt proud of myself for being able to wear down such a foxy sex-kitten.

So we slowly settled into oral-only sex during the early and late evenings. Of course, it was me orally pleasing her. Somewhere along the way, she had stopped giving me head altogether. But since I'd always had a take-it or leave-it attitude towards fellatio, I had hardly even noticed, let alone complain about it.

We set our wedding date, and moved forward with plans to be together happily-ever-after. Since Sherry's father was deceased, and her mother still had four younger children to support on a modest income, we would have to pay for our own wedding.

We started staying home during the week to save money. Sherry wanted a nice, big, fancy wedding, and I felt more than happy to go along with her plans. We would also need to put money down on a house, of course.

By then, Sherry had taught me how to include analingus after giving her long back massages. Although I had performed brief analingus in the past on a few women, I could have easily counted all those experiences on one hand prior to being with Sherry. So, Sherry taught me how she wanted to be pleased in this way, and found me to be an eager student.

A typical weeknight for us would consist of me either bringing home carry-out food, or cooking on the grill. Then I would clean up the mess and do the dishes while Sherry took a shower. She would usually just quickly comb-out her pixie hairdo, put on nothing but her bathrobe, and come into the living room with wet hair and no makeup. I didn't mind one bit. She looked incredibly hot even without makeup!

We would usually watch TV. Cable was a new thing back then in our area, and being able to watch movies without commercial interruption was still a fresh novelty. We would throw a comforter on the floor for me to sit on, while Sherry sat up on the sofa. I would massage her feet as we watched a movie. I'd never been a foot fetishist, but Sherry did have very sexy feet. Over time, massaging her feet grew to be a huge turn-on for me. But more importantly, it truly relaxed Sherry and put her in a positive frame of mind to receive more attention from me.

After Sherry had grown fully content with her foot massage, she would then lie face-down on the comforter, facing the TV, and using a pillow to keep her head propped up. We would watch an adult movie as I massaged her back. Eventually, she would signal me to perform analingus on her. She really enjoyed this, and often kept me there for 45 minutes to an hour. She never orgasmed directly from prolonged analingus, but her pussy always became drenched with her juices.

When a part of the movie came on that really excited Sherry, she would raise her pussy, signaling that she finally wanted cunnilingus. She was usually so hot by then, that I was able to bring her to several good orgasms within a relatively short period of time.

Sometimes she would lose interest in the movie after a few orgasms, and turn over on her back, so that I could drive my tongue even deeper into her drenched and quivering pussy. It was in this position that she sometimes squirted during her better orgasms. I loved when she held my face in tighter to help me catch and swallow her little squirts.

The first time she squirted, she seemed a little embarrassed. But after I admitted that it made me feel proud to be able to make her lose control like that, she beamed with enthusiasm. Not only did she never feel self-conscious about it again, she truly enjoyed squirting in my face after that!

It was around this time that Sherry began calling me her little boy-toy. Before long, she used that name often. It never bothered me. In fact, it often made me feel proud in a strange way.

There were times when I would have enjoyed getting my rocks off at night, but since I was still fucking her almost every morning and afternoon at lunch time, it really didn't bother me all that much to wait until the next day.

We got married exactly one year after our first date. The wedding was a huge affair that cost us a pile of dough. We got most of the money back in gifts, however, and used the money as a down-stroke for our house.

This was back in the days of 12% interest, and the mortgage payment stretched our finances quite a bit. But it was Sherry's dream home, and I felt thrilled that it made her so happy. The tight finances also gave us an excuse to stay home six nights a week. This was just fine with me, since it meant spending more time pleasuring Sherry!

However, our new house was twelve miles away from work through big-city traffic, and I was no longer able to sneak home for lunch. It wasn't too long after we moved when Sherry would sometimes feel too tired to have sex in the morning. On one of these particular mornings, she caught me masturbating in the shower before work. I felt quite embarrassed, but even more surprised by her vicious outburst! She actually punched me a few times in a flurry and made me feel like a real heel, as she equated my self-pleasure to cheating on her.

Sherry cut me off of sex completely for a week, which felt like a freaking YEAR at that time in my life! I remained extremely attentive to her during this time, but she wouldn't even let me touch her. I felt very tempted to jerk-off again, but terrified about the prospects of being caught once again.

On Saturday, the eighth day following me getting busted, she had finally cooled off enough to discuss the issue. She asked me several questions about my masturbating. I reluctantly admitted that I had masturbated several other times since we had lived together.

Sherry told me in no uncertain terms that she would not tolerate me jerking off ever again! She further explained that I was never to even lock myself in any room again either. She warned me that if she ever caught me masturbating again, or even locking myself in a room, she would place me into a device that would prevent my freedom to masturbate!

I was pretty naive back then, and didn't even know that such devices existed! I had heard about the chastity devices for females during the Medieval times, but never for a male. In any event, I told Sherry I believed her, and she would never have to worry about me jerking-off ever again. She accepted my apology and sincere promise, but she also made me agree to take a polygraph test upon her demand, if she ever doubted me in the future regarding this issue.

We fucked like rabbits that Saturday afternoon, and fell right back into our former sexual routine later that day. She had more orgasms that day than she ever had with me in any other single day. She commented later that night that I had noticeably been a better lover in all aspects throughout the day.

Sherry took more outward control of our relationship from that point forward. Her overall demeanor became a little more dominant too. This incident, and the make-up sex that followed, also proved to be a major turning point in our sex lives.

Sherry had become thoroughly convinced that my devotion, attention, and performance to her would be enhanced simply by reducing my orgasms. Afterwards, it became commonplace for Sherry to be on the receiving end of sex for several days at a time before allowing me to orgasm.

There were times when this arrangement truly frustrated me, but I went along with the program partially because it pleased Sherry so much. However, even though I never admitted this to her, the primary reason I went along with this is because when she finally DID allow me to cum, I had some of my very best orgasms ever!

Before long however, Sherry's orgasm ratio became about twenty-five of her's to my one. At this time, she allowed me to cum about every fourth or fifth day, on the average. There were days when my sexual frustration felt maddening!

Nevertheless, I was a very happy man, and deeply in love with a highly sexual, innovative, stunning woman. I wouldn't have traded places with any man in the world for any amount of money or for any other woman, and Sherry was well-aware of this.

Also, it was around this time that Sherry's monthly periods no longer temporarily interrupted her frequent requests for cunnilingus. Her periods seemed to positively enhance her orgasms, so it only made sense to learn how to enjoy pleasing her this way.

One Friday night just before our first anniversary, I came home to an empty house. I poked about for a while, then finally went to the fridge for a beer. Sherry had left me a note there, saying that she planned to be out. She asked me to clean up the house while she was gone.

I gladly went about, vacuuming, mopping, and doing other general cleaning. When I had completed all the chores, it was already after 10pm, and still no word from Sherry. This was before the days of cell phones, but I still began to grow a little worried.

I forced myself through a movie, but couldn't really follow it, dealing with my duel emotions of anger and worry. The movie ended, and midnight passed. Still no word from Sherry. Even though it was a Friday night, it had grown too late for me to call her friends to try and track her down.

I paced around the house drinking a couple more beers to take the edge off. I had knocked off the entire and only six-pack in the house during the six hours I'd been home, and I didn't want to leave the house at that point.

Sherry had never done anything even remotely like this before, and I felt truly baffled. I flipped through the channels on the boob-tube, killing another 3 hours, while contemplating calling the police several times. Finally, at 3:15, Sherry arrived home. She looked a little disheveled, but otherwise okay.

I immediately asked her where she'd been. Sherry sat down on the couch, told me that she felt very tired, and asked me to massage her feet while we talked.

Still feeling unhappy about her prolonged absence, I grudgingly grabbed the comforter that we kept nearby, spread it on the floor, and assumed the usual position I used to massage her sexy feet. As I massaged them, she dropped a surprise on me. She had been out dancing.

I asked her who she had been with. Sherry explained that she originally went out with her friend, Nikki, but that they had met a couple guys at the club. I didn't care much for Nikki. She was hot-looking, but always on the prowl... certainly not the kind of girl you want your wife hanging-out with!

I told Sherry that I had been worried sick about her, and asked why she hadn't called me to inform me of her whereabouts. She explained that they had had a few drinks, were having a great time, and simply lost track of the time.

When I asked her how late she had stayed at the club, she said until about 11. "Sherry, where did you go from the club?", I asked.

"We went back to Dave's place, but we left Nikki and Paul at the club." Sherry explained.

At this point, I began to get a sour cringe in my stomach to accompany my anger. But my stomach would soon grow far more sour.

Sherry spread her legs as wide as her short skirt would allow. I looked up her legs, only to see a sopping pair of panties clinging to her closely-trimmed bush.

"Oh, God. I don't fucking believe this! Did you FUCK this guy?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes Mike, I did." Sherry responded, looking me straight in the eyes.

I felt like my gut had been disemboweled. Yet Sherry was staring right at me, unabashedly, with almost a smitten attitude.

"W-why, Sherry?", I asked, feeling dead inside, and wondering where all my anger had disappeared to. I looked down for a split second, to see that I was still massaging her feet. I couldn't even feel my own hands. I felt detached, as though I were outside of my body, looking at myself.

"Because I needed what he gave me at that moment in time, and I had the opportunity." Sherry explained.

"What you NEEDED?" I asked, still feeling outside my own body.

"Yes, Mike. What I needed." Sherry responded.

I fell silent, still feeling dazed by my sudden detachment to anger. Sherry stood up for a moment, quickly removed her blouse and skirt, threw the pillow onto the comforter, grabbed the remote, and laid face down in her usual position when watching TV during her back massage. She turned on an adult movie, but muted the volume.

"Mike, thanks for the foot massage, but my back is also sore from too much dancing. I know how you dislike dancing, so I took full advantage of a man who loves to dance, and does it well. I'll tell you the rest of the story while you're giving me my back massage, but take off your clothes like you usually do." Sherry instructed, assuming consent.