Peg was a force of nature. She always got what she wanted in love and in life. Whether or not others suffered or prospered in the equation didn't much matter to her and I know that makes her sound mean, but she wasn't, really. She was my wife and surprisingly bore the same name as my mother; and if one believes history repeats itself, it did in my case. My mother, Peg, had cuckolded my father and had many of the same traits my wife had and therefore it was no surprise when I met, fell in love, and married my Peg.
We were married for ten dizzying years. Years during which Peg cuckolded me with many different men and drove me to be her dutiful servant and cuckold. What made me stay? Her beauty and her personality. There existed an attraction I could never quite put into words; suffice to say, I was hooked no matter what Peg doled out. All that changed when she met Frank. He was one in a steady line of lovers which Peg had, but his dark Italian looks and personality soon moved him to the top of the list. Soon, there were less and less of the other lovers and more and more of Frank. And then he became her one and only. He moved in with us and moved me out of the bedroom. A presence in our home which changed the dynamic with seismic twist. Things happened fast in the last few years of marriage; so fast I hardly remember them.
And so, it was no surprise when I received a text Saturday afternoon which read: Tomorrow, noon, our house, bring lunch. Just like Peg, short, sweet, and to the point. And always the inference I was to pick up on, the lunch was not for her and me but rather for her and Frank. My tiny became instantly erect straining to reach its full three inches leaking pre-cum. And so, after a restless night's sleep, I arose early, showered, and shaved my entire body as Peg required. Even though we were legally divorced, I had signed a contract agreeing to continue to be Peg and Frank's servant. Our divorce agreement gave them most of my money except for a meager allowance which allowed me to rent a tiny one room apartment while they lived in the palatial mansion where Peg and I once lived.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Chubby, shaved head to toe, with my tiny cock protruding from below my belly like an afterthought. I could see what she saw in Frank and for some reason it made me even harder, made me want her even more even though I knew I could never really have her. I slipped on my black bobbie brooks leggings which Peg insisted I always wear except when I put my Burger King outfit on to go to work. I wore a pink t-shirt with the cuckold symbol and my pink crocs. Frank and Peg delighted in humiliating me and shining a light on my cuckold situation.
I had owned a successful business once; Frank ran it now. Peg thought the Burger King job was fitting as one of her old lover's managed the place and she could always keep tabs on me and continue to rub in my cuckolding daily. I went to a chic bistro which served a delicious Sunday brunch and filled their order, paid for it with my meager allowance knowing this would mean no lunches for a week, and drove to the house. Whenever Peg summoned me, I was not required to knock on the door, I knew my role was to go in and prepare their lunch. I opened the door and proceeded to the lavish dining room and set the table and placed the food in a presentable manner. Frank wandered into the dining room. His presence always intimidated me and today was no different. He wore only black
Speedo underwear with a huge bulge in the front, his six-pack abs and massive chest glistened with oil.
"Mmmm, sure smells good!"
