This is a story about cuckolding and chastity. If you don't like either of those subjects, there's a little Arrow button above here that allow you to go back and find something else to read. If you have something constructive to say, please do so. If you just want to point out that you're a real man and you don't like cuckolding, please find another way to entertain yourself.
This is my 3rd story series. All of my story series so far have dealt with strong women and the men who love them. While I included chastity play, CBT, femdom aspects into the first two stories, I didn't include cuckolding, as (in our experience) these things can be mutually exclusive. Writing this series has taught me a LOT about cuckolding -- I read a bunch of other pieces, went to sites like cuckoldmarriage.info, and the cuckoldconsultant, and even listened to some Podcasts (Keys and Anklet and Cuckoldress Venus). While I learned enough to write an amateurish story, I can't say that cuckolding is my thing, but I don't judge those who do it -- whether they're the cuckold, the cuckoldress, or the bull. Cheers to those who live or embrace this lifestyle, I wish you only the best.
This is Chapter 3 which concludes this story. I'm starting this chapter with very little exposition -- so if you didn't read Chapter 1 and 2, you're going to be a bit lost.
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The next few weeks passed by in a blur. Generally, on a Friday or a Saturday night, Bob and Chrissie would head over to Kurt's place, where he would play with his new cuckold couple. After the first evening, Kurt put on hold the other women that he was courting as a bull, and concentrated on this new couple. It wasn't often that Kurt would find a couple that was so willing and compliant. Chrissie had turned from interested wife to a true slut for his cock. He didn't push it, but was convinced that he could get her to do almost anything to get her weekly attention from Kurt, and as she evolved into his cock and cumslut, he did his best to train her. From experience, he knew that his time with the couple was short -- perhaps a few months until Chrissie either decided she had sowed her wild oats, or until she moved on to something else.
Bob was another story. Kurt really liked Bob as a person and as a cuckold. Bob was pretty much down for anything Kurt and Chrissie had done so far, and took care of Chrissie and Kurt with little pushback. It wasn't often that he met a cuckold who was as amenable as Bob, but who wasn't a mincing little sissyboy. Kurt felt comfortable hanging out with Bob in the apartment as well as out in public, and he genuinely admired Bob for having the guts to be a cuckold.
Kurt thought over that last statement a bit more. Guts. People don't realize how gutsy you have to be to be a cuckold. Bob was confident enough in who he was to realize that while he was a great husband and partner to Chrissie, that he didn't measure up as a lover. He was gutsy enough to sit in front of Kurt and ask him to cuckold him, and then after Kurt had put Chrissie through her paces, he attended to Chrissie and treated her like the queen she was and gave his respect to Kurt as well.
Tonight was different though, thought Kurt. As he thought that, he reached down and grabbed Chrissie by the back of the head and pushed her further down his cock. "Come on my little slut, work that cock deeper" he demanded. Chrissie pulled back to take a quick breath, and then dived back onto his cock, her mouth drooling saliva and her eyes watering from the throatfucking that Kurt was giving her.
Tonight was the first "overnight date" between Kurt and Chrissie. This was also the first time that Bob had dropped Chrissie off and left to go home. Kurt had been vague about when Chrissie would be coming home, and Bob had half-heartedly tried to figure that out. He probably thought Kurt would drop her off in the morning, but Kurt knew from experience that Bob's cuckold angst would be fueled the longer she stayed with Kurt the next day. They didn't even have to do anything sexual -- they might just sit around and watch some Netflix or get some takeout. He briefly thought about going for a walk with her, but Chrissie had shown up in such a slutty outfit that there was no way she'd want to be seen in public.
Kurt reached down again and pulled Chrissie off his cock. Her eyeliner was running now and if she didn't look like a cock-hungry slut, she'd look like a raccoon. He gently grabbed her by the arm and nudged her up from the bed. "Go clean up a little bit, and then come back, I'm going to get something ready.
Chrissie compliantly stepped into the bathroom, and yelped a bit when she saw what she looked like in the mirror. The bathroom door closed and Chrissie went to work trying to clean her face up. "Oh my God" Chrissie thought to herself, "I look like one of those slutty porno women!" She washed her face and pulled the makeup kit that she had left at Kurt's apartment (she had a few necessities here .. some pads for nights when Kurt filled her up, makeup, some scrunchies for her hair, and a few extra pairs of panties). She looked at herself in the mirror -- Kurt had left some hickeys on her breasts. He was always careful to "mark her" as he called it where no one would see, but with bikini season coming up, she was going to have to have a talk with him about that.
She turned and looked at herself sideways in the mirror. Since she started seeing Kurt she'd been spending more time at the gym, and she could see the difference just in muscle tone. Chrissie liked what she saw, and judging by the looks and the guys who worked out in her proximity at the gym these days, so did others! Chrissie though briefly about the college age guy who had helped her with the freeweights last week. He was a hunk, but he was also about 15 years younger.
A knock on the bathroom door brought her out of her revery. "You might want to use the bathroom now if you need to" Kurt said cryptically through the door.
Chrissie was intrigued by this, but she went and sat down to pee. She saw her phone on the counter and reached up. There was a text from Bob about 45 minutes ago 'Just Got Home. See You Tomorrow. Love You!'. She thought about responding, but decided not to. Kurt had told her that this was a big step, and that Bob would really get off on the cuckolding if she went radio silent on him. Kurt had been right about most things regarding cuckolding, so she deferred to him on things like this. They had truly been lucky to meet him when they got started. Chrissie cleaned up, washed her hands and opened the door to the bedroom.
When her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom, she noticed that Kurt had made some additions to the room He had brought in an ottoman from the living room and placed it in the middle of the floor, and she could see some straps hanging from the bedposts.
Kurt touched her shoulder from behind, and Chrissie jumped slightly, not realizing he had been waiting for her just behind the door. He reached up over her head and gently slid a mask with eyeholes over her eyes. When she reached up to feel it, she found it was leather on the outside, but the inside felt much softer -- maybe a velveteen or velvet. Either way, it was comfortable. As she did this, she felt Kurt attaching leather cuffs to her wrists and then her ankles.
"Tonight, since you're staying -- we're going to play a little bit with some dominance" Kurt announced. "When we first met, you told me about 'Mistress Christine' which was some roleplay you did with Cucky. Well tonight let's see whether you are a Mistress Christine, or just Chrissie the Sub.
Chrissie felt the moisture build between her legs. Bob had wanted to play the sub -- and he was truly a sub to her -- but she *had* been intrigued about what it would be like to be in the same position. This might be why she had transitioned so easily into being Kurt's plaything. She loved when he forcibly took her or repositioned her during sex. Even earlier when he had facefucked her, she enjoyed it more than she had liked to admit. To be honest, she craved Kurt dominating her, they had just never come out and actually used the word.
Kurt guided her over to the ottoman and instructed Chrissie to lay across it. When she did, he connected her wrist cuffs to the Ottomans feet. He then slipped a ballgag in her mouth and tightened the strap around the back of her head. As he slipped a tennis ball into her right hand, he instructed her "If you get to the point where you need to stop, drop the tennis ball, and I'll stop right away. The tennisball is your safeword while you're gagged."
Chrissie nodded her understanding and felt the saliva starting to build again around the ballgag. 'That son of a bitch' she thought to herself. 'He had me clean up, and now he's going to put me through this. Ugh.... '.
Kurt stood behind Chrissie admiring her behind, and slowly running his hand down her back. He reached behind himself to the dresser and removed a leather flogger. This wouldn't hurt too much, but it was a great way to warm-up. Kurt began to lightly lay blows with the flogger up and down her back and her behind. He made sure to avoid the base of her spine, as that was a "no-go" in the BDSM world for fear of causing permanent injury. After a while, he started to rain down blows faster and faster, and then slowed to almost a trickle. Finally, when he saw her relaxing even more, he put down the flogger and picked up a leather paddle. It had the world 'SLUT' embossed one one side backwards, the result of which was leave the word on whatever it touched. Kurt turned it to the blank side, and began to paddle her beautiful behind, watching as it reddened under his blows. He increased the tempo and the intensity until he could hear her visibly shudder from the blows. A safety check on Chrissie showed her eyes beginning to well up with tears.
Kurt wanted to get her to the point of crying -- the point tonight was to just break her to him, but not cause her lasting marks or serious pain. He continued with the leather paddle, and then grabbing his phone, he flipped the paddle over so the word 'SLUT' was facing down and put one last swat across her left buttock. He took a picture with his phone.
Chrissie lay there, her breath coming so fast that she felt she had run a race, and the leather of the ottoman below her covered in the sweat that had poured from her body. She felt Kurts hand now -- lightly running up and down her back and across her sensitive behind.
"Man that's a gorgeous sight" Kurt exclaimed loud enough for Chrissie to hear. "By the end of the night I want you to focus on one thing.... I want you to focus on how you're going to beg me to take that ass the next time we meet."
Chrissie gasped. That wasn't a dealbreaker, but it was something she had been quite clearly reluctant to give to Kurt. Of course at this point, she knew that she would readily give her anal virginity to Kurt if he demanded it. She knew he would be both a competent as well as caring recipient of that last barrier, but she knew what he wanted -- he wanted her to beg for it. He wanted her to debase herself to the point that she couldn't deny that she had just said it in the heat of the moment.
Kurt moved down to release Chrissie's wrists from the ottoman. He stood her up, hugging her as his hands ran over her behind, feeling the heat emanate. "That's right my little slut, you're going to give up that ass to me, and you're going to be proud to do it."
He moved her to the bed, where he lay her on her back and tied her to the bedposts. From under the bed he produced additional straps to pull her legs apart, connecting the ankle cuffs before pulling her legs wide open. Chrissie lay there, unable to move, and exposed to Kurt. He put the tennisball back in her hand and reminded her to drop it if things got too intense. Once he had received her nod of understanding, Kurt went and retrieved some soft nylon cordage. He wrapped it around the base of Chrissie's breasts, tightening it to the point that her breasts stood out prominently, her nipples engorged with blood.
Kurt stood back to admire his work, and then inserted a finger in her pussy, slowly drawing it back and forth and covering it in her juices. He soon added another finger, and then a third, then a fourth. With his other hand, he gently stroked Chrissie's clit. His left hand formed into a fist, and Chrissie's eyes widened at the prospect of Kurt's fist going into her vagina. His hand was proportionate to the rest of him, and she genuinely feared the pain that this might bring on.
Kurt pushed his fist up to Chrissie's pussy, pushing against her pelvic muscles. He didn't intend on fisting her -- but he wanted her to know that he could if he decided to. Finally, he relented and removed all but two of his fingers that went deep in search of her G-Spot. While he did this, Kurt went to her breasts with his free hand and ran the back of his fingers gently along Chrissie's swollen breasts.
Chrissie's response was immediate. The overwhelming feeling of Kurt's fingers deep inside her, and the soft strokes on her breasts pushed her over the edge to her first orgasm of the evening. Kurt kept up the pressure, willing another orgasm from her, before gently blowing on Chrissie's nipples. He delighted as he saw goosebumps rise on her arms, and then removed first his hand, and then the ropes surrounding her breasts.
As the ropes came off, the blood flowed once again in Chrissie's breasts and she let out a yelp into the gag at the pain of the flowing blood, but she held on to the tennis ball for dear life.
