Cathleen Encouraged Ch 09

This is part of an ongoing story with hard core interracial cuckoldry as the main theme. If you find this theme offensive, or do not like interracial cuckoldry don't read it!

When Cathleen informed me that Randy was moving in, I knew I needed to talk to my guide at the cuckold group. Carl had given me his number for emergencies, and this was one for me. I called him from my office Monday, and he said that he could meet me for a beer that night.

I called home and left a message for my wife that I would be late. Somehow I wasn't surprised that she didn't answer. Randy had been visiting her during the day lately, and she always turned off the ringer during their love making.

I hung the receiver and recalled the conversation I found out about the daytime meetings.

"Honey, I called today. Where did you go?" I asked that day.

"Oh, I was here all day," Cathy replied.

"Well, why didn't you pick up?"

"I must not have heard it."

"Cathy, that's every day this week that I called and got no answer. Why aren't you picking up? I asked.

She paused and sipped her wine. "George, it's like this, Randy has been over during the day all week. I wasn't planning on it, that's why I didn't mention it to you. I just find myself thinking about him a lot. Then I start to touch myself. But George, I can't get myself to cum the way he makes me cum!"

I listened intently as she continued.

"I'm a little afraid. It started at the beginning of the week. He has me in such lust that I can't even think sometimes. I didn't want to call him, but couldn't help myself. George, I NEEDED him! When I called he forced me to beg him to come and make love to me. I begged and begged for him until he finally relented. When he got here I tried to get him to romance me, like he normally does. He ordered me to shut off the ringer and he just flat out TOOK me! He made me tell him that I was addicted to him and his cock. I didn't want to admit it, especially to him. He just laughed and told me that he knew my pussy needed itching and that he had the only scratcher for it! Fucked, I knew he was right.

Anyway, I spent every day this week starting out in the morning saying to myself that I was going to resist and not call him. Every day I gave in George, every day. I can't resist him, and he knows it. He is humiliating me as he takes me. He calls me his 'white whore', and mentally I can't help but keep calling for him. I'm scared of how much power he has developed over me."

She hugged me tightly, and I could feel her shaking as I the implications of what she had revealed made me feel just as violated as she had been. In reality Randy really was now head of the house. I certainly couldn't make Cathy want me like she wanted him. That he had taken the power in their relationship seemed to have totally taken her by surprise. I surmised that she had perhaps been viewing the relationship through the lens of her being in control, and perhaps she was in the beginning. Randy had slowly overcome her link to me, and had won that battle. Now he had topped her too. It was incredibly scary that this Black man now had full and complete control of our lives.

"What can I do?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, starting to sob and cry. "You just don't understand George! He has filled me up so deep with that damned huge cock that I need it now! I mean, at first it was kind of a novelty for me. He worked my pussy over slowly. Hell, the first three times we had sex he was only in half way. He didn't pressure me to take more. I just started encouraging him to give it to me. He used to giggle when I asked him for just a little more this time than last time . . . just a little more than last time . . . just a little more than the last time . . . Honey, before I knew it he had loosened me up enough that his whole cock fit inside me. Even then he was treating me like a princess, and my love tunnel got more and more used to his engine. Damned it, he can fuck me in ways that you can't because he is so big and he knows it. He loves to be on top and take me with my legs actually closed - and he is still so damned deep, and he circles with his hips and everything. Meanwhile, when we do it like that it seriously stretches me out down there and it used to get me so sore that it was how he finished me off. Well, after enough sex like that my pussy actually NEEDS him to take me like that! And honey, your cock just isn't going to do it. You lack both the length and girth for it. And as soon as he had me hooked, fuck if I know how he knew to change his damned tone now, he suddenly doesn't treat me like a princess anymore! I mean he was always dominant during sex, but gentle afterward. Now I'm his 'white whore', and he won't call me anything else! Oh what am I going to do?"

I held her as she cried into my shoulder. The depth of the situation seemed without bottom. Even as she cried, the scent of his cum panted from her sweet lips. It was not merely words that let me know his place with her, but the constant reminder on her breath reinforcing the matter.

I sat at my desk remembering that day, knowing full well that I had called every day since and she never picked up the line. I hung up and dug into the inbox on my desk, trying not to picture the master bedroom in my home.

At 7 I pulled into the parking lot of the bar Carl had suggested. I had never been at this place before, and couldn't help but notice that the people coming and going were all either black, or white women.

When I got to the door the bouncer asked, "You a cucked hubby?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"First time here?"

"Yeah, I'm meeting someone."

"Cuckolds are welcome here, but you must obey the two rules. First rule is that you stay at the bar labeled 'Cuckolds Only', there's a bathroom right next to it and that is where you will confine yourself to inside, no wandering around. Second rule - no talking to any white women that are here, not that it would do you any good. Those are the rules. Fuck up and you'll regret it," he said firmly.

I nodded, afraid.

He allowed me in, and I saw that on the floor was a painted path with an arrow and the words 'Cuckold's Path', leading to a run down looking bar that had the words 'White Cucks' painted on the wall behind. I made sure that I didn't deviate . . .

Carl was already there, and had a draft waiting for me.

"Why this place?" I asked.

"Two reasons. First, the Black Masters prefer that we cucks come here if we go out for a drink. They don't like the idea of any possibility of us distracting our wives from them and don't want to run into us by chance. So from now on this is your bar too. It was a problem once. One cuck snapped and started following his wife and her lover, and so the rule was enacted. Second, the Black Masters want to make sure that we stay chaste, save for what they let us experience with our wives. So they know that no other women will interfere with the cuckolding process, which is popular with the wives too," he answered.

"Are you telling me that I'm not allowed in any other bar in town?" I asked.

"You know the rules now, and I have to report that to the Black superiors. Don't worry, it'll all come naturally."

"What about if I'm at a restaurant and want to hit the bar before I go home?"

"That's out too. No restaurants or bars within 50 miles," he answered.

I let that sink in, and decided 'What the fuck' in the end.

I sipped my beer and confided in Carl my problems with Randy moving into my home. I told him about the daytime trysts and the reality of my wife's surrender.

"Doesn't surprise me George. It's just all part of the acceptance of need that you were told about at the meeting. Cathleen's need for her Black Master is increasing. This is the path that you directed your relationship towards when you encouraged her to seek a lover, and she knew that you wanted - needed in fact - for that lover to be of color. Your role is to be supportive of Cathy in her time of need. Listen to her when she needs an ear. Encourage her that you still love her no matter where Randy takes the relationship. Expect Randy to run the house from now on. Let's face it, even if he didn't want to move in he is in control of her, and you by extension."

We drank for some time, and he told me about when his wife's lover moved into his house. It felt reassuring that his marriage had worked through the same issue, remained intact and even had grown deeper.

As we sat at the cuckold bar several women, black and white came over and teased us badly. The bouncer eventually came over and when he discovered what was going on he laughed and ordered all the cucks at the bar to strip for the entertainment of the bar.

I looked at Carl, who shrugged and said to me, "Understand that we are guests her and we have to do what we are told."

With that he stood and started to strip. Not knowing what else to do I decided I'd better go along.

The women laughed and taunted us further. Then a couple of the Black men in the club came over, stood next to us and pulled out their rods. They were easily twice our width and girth, and not even stiff! The women hooted and hollered for the studs and we were ordered to get dressed.

I was still in shock, and looked to my guide. "We all have all been here George. Understand that you wanted the life of a cuck and now you have it."