This story has elements of humiliation and cuckolding. If you're uncomfortable with these themes, please read no further. This is a work of fiction. Fantasies allow us to explore things that would be harmful in our real lives. While enjoying this story, please remember to always treat others with kindness and respect.
When Amanda and I got to the party, she saw her friends and immediately left my side to join them. I found the bar and had just taken my first sip when I heard the voice behind me. I knew the voice. My blood felt like ice in my veins and a heavy pit formed in my stomach. But my balls tingled and I felt myself mentally regressing fifteen years.
Julian had been my closest friend from the age of five to the age of twenty three. During that time, all through school and even college we were inseparable. He even saved my life once, when I hit my head while cliff diving. Our other friends stood frozen in fear as my body disappeared below the water, but Julian jumped without hesitation and dragged me to the shore.
He would have been the best man at my wedding, except a few weeks before the event I found out that he'd been fucking my fiancée for almost the entire time I'd been with her. It was devastating. The invitations had been sent out, the venue was reserved, the dress had been purchased. I was humiliated in front of all my friends and family.
"Sean Bradshaw." He exclaimed. "God, it's been a long time."
I turned and felt a sickly feeling inside as I regressed into the side kick, the submissive, the sycophant I had been to him all those years ago. I was powerless. I had no idea how to stand up to him then, and it was no different now.
"Hello, Julian." My voice was soft, weak.
"Was that your wife I saw walk in with you? You did very well. You should be grateful I chased off old what's her name." He said with a laugh.
Grateful? Was I grateful? In a way, he had saved me from marrying the wrong woman. I certainly wouldn't have ever found or fallen in love with Amanda. But was I grateful? I hated him, didn't I?
"Yes, that's my wife."
"Well." He said with a broad smile on his face. "I won't blame you for not introducing me to her, our history being what it is." He chuckled.
I didn't know what to say. I just looked at him, stupidly. He was still tall, wide shouldered, narrow waisted, and too attractive. He looked older, but age gave him distinction. He wore no wedding ring, and I suspected there were dozens of women in the city he called his own. Some of them probably even married to other men. That had never bothered Julian.
"I'd love to catch up, Sean. But I'm looking for someone. Maybe we can chat a bit later."
He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he moved off and left me standing there, feckless and impotent. My stomach ached and my balls tingled. I felt the weight of self loathing pressing down on me.
I downed my drink and then another. I was ruined for the evening and I knew it. I couldn't get Julian out of my head, and I couldn't stop feeling the pain and humiliation of the past.
When I pushed away from the bar, I turned and walked toward the back of the mansion that had been converted into a commercial space. While it still looked and could function as a home, it was now used only for events, parties, and gatherings. A dozen french doors separated the living space from the back patio, and the expansive lawn beyond. As I looked through the open doors I saw them.
