Bound and blindfolded, I had plenty of time to reflect on my situation.
I had confessed my desire to be cuckolded to my girlfriend, Shawna. I had not known that she had any kind of interest in the subject, so I was apprehensive about broaching the subject to her. However, after several years of passionate lovemaking, she turned to me and expressed her desire, her need to be fucked, like I could not give her.
The moment of my cuckold role was upon me, and I felt inadequate and small before her. I begged her to fuck a cock that she deserved – a real man’s cock, whose proportions put my own length and girth to shame. After admitting my inadequacy she relegated me to the role of clit-sucker, forcing me to accept her dominance over me and my little pecker.
During the course of that evening’s intercourse – or lack thereof – she demanded that I admit my shortcomings and that I present her to another man who could really satisfy her. As she demanded the reasons why I felt inadequate to her needs, she climaxed, shuddering, spilling her wet love-juices over my face and left me drooling into her pussy. She then insisted that if I felt that I was not satisfying her the way a woman should be, then as her boyfriend it was up to me to make sure that she was getting the kind of action she deserved.
I had known for quite a while that my boss, Jason, was quite the lady’s man. He stood just under 6 feet tall, with blonde hair and a body that expressed exactly the amount of time that he spent in the workout room – which was considerable. He was a no-nonsense, demanding, arrogant asshole – just the type of man that I knew that my wife craved to possess in her innermost fantasies. Shawna, like many other individuals, has the desire to attempt to exert her strength and utterly fail against a dominant personality. I could never give her that satisfaction, but I knew that Jason could.
I wandered into Jason’s office on a breezy fall afternoon, with the pretext of clarifying some figures that I had been working on in my department. He questioned me briefly on the documents, asking and approving what I considered to be the most effective course of action, and then asked me if there was anything else that I wanted. I couldn’t resist this lure.
“Actually, sir, I was coming to ask you for a favor of a more personal nature.” I said.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Well, I’ve got this problem at home…” I began.
“This is work, Jeff. This is no place to attempt to solve these personal problems of yours. I expect you to do your job, and no more. You’ve been doing it quite well and there’s no need for any kind of personal involvement at work.”
“Sir, it’s my wife…” I began again.
Jason looked at me again, a hard look.
“Go on.”
“She doesn’t quite… well, what I’m trying to say is that she doesn’t… she won’t… she’s just not as, well, frisky as she used to be.”
He scribbled something on the back of his card, handed it to me and said, “Tell her I’ll have a word with her.”
II
I brought the card back to Shawna, with several kinky accessories that I thought might facilitate our fantasy. However, when I arrived home, I realized that it was clearly MY fantasy, not hers, but that she was willing to “suffer” through it in order to please me. She humiliated me verbally and demanded that I degrade myself in order for her to go through with the fantasy. I could not think of a pet name for myself and eventually she decided upon “Dickless” as the name of choice. When she named me, I could not help but come in my pants, realizing that I could not satisfy her sexually and that I was truly dickless to her. She smirked as she saw the small stain on the front of my khaki’s.
I could only imagine what she would look like in that outfit. I had bought it for her with my own fantasy in mind, imagining the sexy black dress stretched tight against her curvaceous body, baring her figure to Jason. I had also bought the dress with him in mind – after all, I wanted him to lust for her, desire her beyond any other woman he might encounter.
I lay there on the couch, shivering with pleasure and anticipation, as I imagined what Shawna was enduring for me… having to sacrifice our relationship for the benefit of sex. Suddenly I felt guilty… what if she didn’t enjoy herself, or if she felt guilty afterward? Anew, I felt ashamed of myself, that I could ask my loving girlfriend such a brazen favor, that she become a slut for another man just to satisfy my desires!
‘She really does deserve better than me,’ I thought.
Jason confirmed my thoughts the next day.
“I guess it’s about time we found out what’s got your wife so uptight?” he asked me as he sauntered in to my office. “I’ve got to admit, with everything you’ve told me about Shawna, she seems quite a delightful little piece. Do you think she’s ready for me?”
I was a little taken aback by Jason’s enthusiastic double entendres and stammered, “I think she’s ready, yes….”
“Have you assured her that I’ll be a perfect gentleman?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want to intrude anywhere I wasn’t wanted.”
“Yes, sir, I have,” I replied nervously. “I didn’t tell her who you were, I just gave her the card that you gave me.”
