The Converter Ch 02

This is a work of fantasy and kink. It has some themes many people might find objectionable, including cuckolding, converting lesbians to straight, CNC, gender traitors, and male sexual dominance. Please understand the character's views are not the author's views and no one here is an author self-insert. The author does not have anything against people of any gender or sexuality, and believes anyone who does is a bigot. Any constructive criticism or notes are greatly appreciated but please do not turn the comments into a political firestorm.

Thank you for reading, and to everyone who left a comment on part one.

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I woke up before my wife, Sarah. I looked at her as she slept next to me, undisturbed by the early morning light. Electric blue strands of hair fell over her face, a few strands tickling the corner of her mouth. I smiled to myself as I remembered our wedding day.

Sarah's wedding dress had been a little more risque than mine, showing off her trim waist and gravity-defying cleavage. My own white wedding dress was more conservative - I didn't have as much to show off as she did. We shared a quiet moment at the altar before turning toward the officiant. My jaw (and a lot of others, I think) was on the floor after watching her walk down the aisle.

"Careful now," Sarah had whispered to me as she reached out toward my face. "A bee might fly in there."

"You are so gorgeous," I whispered back.

She winked as she gently cupped my chin, closing my mouth. I began blushing and we shared a smile. We stared into each other's eyes as she held my face in her hand. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have met her, to be standing at the altar with this woman - not only the woman of my dreams, but completely out of my league. Sarah had brushed a strand of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear, and we had turned to say our vows.

Back in bed, today, I returned the gesture - I reached out and gently tucked the stray strand of hair out of my wife's face so it wouldn't disturb her sleep.

It didn't work.

"Hmmmm?" Sarah immediately murmured as her eyes began to move behind her lids. "Wha-?"

"Shhh, shh, it's ok, go back to sleep," I whispered.

I could see her eyes looking around rapidly, flickering back and forth under the eyelids. Her wet tongue darted out and licked her plump lips. My god, what a tongue it was - I felt a rush to my nether regions as my mind began drifting to less polite thoughts.

Sarah could make me cum a hundred ways - and she had - but when her tongue dipped between my legs, teasing my clit...I was in heaven. She could play my body like a fiddle. From the first time we had-

"What time is it?" Sarah snapped, shaking me from my dirty thoughts.

I rolled over and checked my watch, feeling her eyes glaring into the back of my head.

"Nearly seven," I answered.

"Ugh, fuck." Sarah tossed back the covers and stood up in a hurry. She pulled the covers away from me as well, making me shiver. "I'm going to be late. I told you not to let me oversleep, you dumb, fucking-"

"Sarah, it's Saturday!" I protested.

She walked toward the bathroom, giving me a great view of her long, toned legs and chiseled ass. Sarah spent hours every week at a local women-only gym, and it showed.

"I know! I'm going to the cabin with David, remember? I told you about this!" she yelled back as she turned the shower on.

I froze. She had mentioned this a couple days ago, but I had put it out of mind. I couldn't think about it. It was bad enough that this David character had pushed his way into my house - it was supposed to be for lesbians only, a feminist refuge against the world! He invited himself over whenever he wanted, and I frequently returned home to find Sarah doting on him hand and foot, or the two of them cuddled up on the couch. Just thinking about him made my blood boil.

But on Thursday, Sarah had told me she was going to go away for the weekend. To an isolated cabin in the woods. With a man. With David. And she had let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I was not invited.

I wanted her to have her own life, of course. Intellectually I knew it was good for her to have her own hobbies, her own friends, that I wasn't a part of. But somehow it still felt wrong that she locked the door to the office where she was practicing video editing, and that she was spending so much time with David - a man! A symbol of the patriarchy!

I went to cook breakfast as Sarah finished putting herself together. I prepared a nice spread of eggs, toast, fried potatoes, and bacon when I heard the front door open.

No knock, no doorbell. I knew who it had to be.

"Morning!" David called as he strolled into the house. My house. He didn't bother to take his shoes off, just came in and sat down at the head of the table and smiled as I laid the food out, watching me expectantly, waiting until I set a place for him.

I hated the dynamics at play - me, a woman, serving a man food as he just sat, waiting expectantly...it smacked of misogyny. But he was my wife's friend and I had to play nice.

Sarah came out of the bedroom as I finished preparing a plate for him. I nearly dropped the plate of food when I saw how my wife was dressed. She wore a pair of tiny tight spandex shorts, barely long enough to cover her. She had on a pair of rainbow socks that came up to just above her knees, accentuating her tanned, toned thighs.

On top she wore a tight T-shirt, also several sizes too small. It left her stomach bare and the deep V-neck showed more of her perfect, mouthwatering tits than it covered. She had put on lipstick to draw attention to her pouty, bee-stung lips.

"Jesus, Sarah, don't you-" I started, but trailed off as she glared at me.

"Hey, David," she said in an uncharacteristically bubbly voice. She stepped behind him and began massaging his shoulders, ignoring me. "Have you been working out?"

I seethed but walked back to the kitchen to finish setting the table. David didn't look at her. He just continued eating the food I had prepared.

"Have you finished the last video yet?" he asked.

"Almost. I'm working on it, and it will-"

"Chop chop, eh? You gotta get that going, ok, toots?"

I waited for Sarah to cut him down to size. She was fearsome when pressed - I had seen her verbally annihilate sexist police officers, city council members, all kinds of men in powerful positions. I turned back toward them, pausing just a moment to admire the way her shorts clung to her rounded buttocks.

But she didn't open up on him with the fire and brimstone I expected. "I know, I'm sorry. But don't worry, I can finish today," was all she said. "Mio's vid is going to be really good, and I have some great ideas for you for Anya."

"Wait, what about Mio and Anya? Our friends, Mio and Anya?" I asked, but they ignored me.

"Good," said David, standing up. He looked Sarah up and down for the first time, taking in her ridiculous getup.

"Do you like?" she asked nervously, striking a pose and waiting for David's approval.

It was an absurd question. My wife was a bombshell and I had seen Playboy photoshoots with more clothes. It was insane that Sarah would dress like this at all, but to see her genuinely concerned it wasn't going to meet the approval of a man...I made a note to go over some of our feminist readings with her again when we could.

"I can change, if you like. Or, if I've been bad...I can try to make it up to you?"

The tip of Sarah's wet tongue darted out and slowly ran along her top lip.

I felt powerless. Watching my normally ferocious wife, my Dom, acting so subservient and eager to please felt deeply disturbing. I wanted to step in and stop them, to kick David from my house, to tell him off, to...I didn't even know. Anything.

But I couldn't. My wife was my Mistress. We had agreed before we got married - she knew best, and she would choose for me. She would not be pleased if I interrupted, and I knew it wouldn't do any good.

David smiled, looking Sarah up and down again.

"Sounds good. Ok, let's get out of here. Clear all this up," he said.

"Wait, wha-? I'm eating that!" I tried to protest, but Sarah took my plate and the others back to the kitchen and scooped all the food I had just prepared into the trash.

"Sorry, we're going to take off. Don't worry, I'll have her back on Sunday," David said. "Oh, hey, is this your wallet?"

I spun back toward David. My purse sat on an unused chair at the table, and David had reached in to pull out my wallet. I watched as he opened it and pulled out a few $20s.

"Mind helping out with gas?" he asked me rhetorically, casually stuffing the bills in his pocket. He wasn't even looking at me. Following his gaze, I saw he was fixed on Sarah as she bent over the trash can, facing toward us. Her T-shirt fell away from her body and offered a glimpse directly down her shirt. "You ready?" he asked my wife.

She nodded, picked up her bag, then turned to me. I gulped. I knew what was coming. Our new morning routine involved Sarah degrading me and demanding several concessions as she was on her way out the door. I didn't mind - she was my Mistress, after all - but I had never thought it would happen in front of someone else. In front of a man.

Sarah reached out and grabbed me by the back of my head, roughly using my hair to pull me to my knees in front of her.

"Please, not today, Mistress. Not - not in front of-"

"Shut up," she snapped.

David smirked behind her, watching from the doorway.

"Tell me I can do what I want to," she demanded.

"You-you can do what you want to," I repeated, looking up at her from my knees.

"I deserve to be happy," she said.

"You deserve to be happy," I replied.

"I can do what I want to be happy."

"You can do what you want to be happy."

Then she gave me a new one.

"Since you can't make me cum, you're a failure."

I just stared at her, slack jawed. I blushed in shame and tried not to think about David watching.

Sarah slapped me across the cheek.

"Say it, cunt."

"Since I can't make you cum, I'm a failure," I repeated.

"Good whore. Again."

"Since I can't make you cum, I'm a failure."

"I deserve a wife who can make me cum."

I felt like a dagger was twisting in my gut. I hesitated, and she slapped me again. Not hard, just enough to remind me she was in charge and drag my attention back.

"You deserve a wife who can make you cum," I said, humiliated.

"You're a failure. A worthless, lesbian whore who doesn't know her place."

The humiliation of the situation was getting to me. I could feel myself getting wet and my nipples getting hard as my wife degraded me.

"I'm-I'm a failure. I'm a worthless lesbian whore who doesn't know her place," I panted.

CRACK! David stepped forward and slapped Sarah's spandex-clad ass. Her demeanor changed instantly as she shifted out of Mistress mode. She turned toward him and giggled like a schoolgirl, bringing a finger to her mouth flirtatiously.

He didn't say a word, just wrapped his powerful arm around her waist and began pulling her toward the door. Sarah giggled again and hung off his broad shoulder as the two of them made their way out the door.

I sat on my knees after the door slammed. I was turned on beyond measure from my wife's degrading words, humiliated by being forced to go through our routine in front of a man - and an asshole like David, no less!

And in the back of my mind, in a place I didn't want to admit or acknowledge, I was also worried about why my wife was dressed so provocatively as she left for a weekend with David, and what she had meant by "making it up" to him. Or why they were talking about a video of Mio, or their plans for Anya.

I knew my wife would never cheat on me, especially not with a man. She was every bit the lesbian I was. I knew that. But.

But.

But.

The cold, dark thoughts couldn't leave my head.

Against my will I began to imagine what might happen.

Maybe David had gotten aroused, watching Sarah humiliate me. Maybe he liked seeing lesbians brought down a peg. Maybe he had told Sarah about this, and she had been putting on a show for him this morning.

Maybe I was just porn for a man's viewing pleasure. Maybe lesbians were only good for pleasing men.

Maybe my purpose in life was to be a fluffer for men like David, teasing them and getting them hard before they turned their attention toward my wife. She was more attractive to men, so she was worth more than me.

Maybe Sarah was going to please David all weekend long, starting in the car.

I could picture what it would look like, how it would happen. Barely aware of myself, I made my way to the bed I shared with my wife and began to strip. I grabbed one of my favorite toys and began to masturbate as the scene played out in my mind.

"Fuck, that was hot," David would say.

Sarah would giggle as she shut the door, then lean over to kiss David's cheek as he started the car. Her beautiful, heavy tits would be pressed against him.

"Did you like that, baby? Did you like watching my lesbian cunt wife get put in her place?"

"You know I did. You uppity lezzies need to be reminded of the natural way of things."

David would turn toward her at a red light and draw her in for a deep kiss. Sarah would moan, melting in his arms. He'd reach up and roughly grab her breast, feeling its weight in his hand. His other hand would be on the back of my wife's head, keeping her in the kiss - not that she'd want to pull away. Then, as the light turned green, he'd turn back toward the road.

His left hand would release her chest, but his right hand, still on the back of her neck, wouldn't let go. No. He'd had too much fun watching lesbians perform for his pleasure. He'd barely have to work - the muscles in his arms were strong, and he'd easily begin pulling Sarah across the seat...toward his crotch.

She'd know what he wanted. She'd been expecting it, waiting for it. She wanted it too.

An observant driver in the car behind would only see her shock of bright blue hair gliding across the seat, then disappear out of sight, but they'd know. Anyone who saw what was happening would know.

Another lesbian was about to take a man's cock in her mouth.

Like she should.

That's what lesbian's mouths were for, after all. Pleasing cocks.

I grabbed my own breast as I drove the toy in and out of my pussy, moaning Sarah's name as I imagined what might be happening.

"Be a good dyke and do what you're supposed to, whore," David would say as he pressed Sarah's face into his crotch. "Nice socks, by the way."

She'd inhale his manly scent, feel his dick hardening against his pants, then glance back at her rainbow socks and giggle. They had been a present from me at Pride several years ago - a symbol of our relationship and queerness.

Sarah would undo David's button, then slowly slide down the zipper as the car began leaving town and heading into the hills. David's hard cock would burst out like a monster freed from its cage. She might gasp in appreciation as it came into view.

"You know what they say," she'd say, looking up at him. She might gently trace her wet, soft tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the first bit of precum that pooled on the head. "Rainbow socks are for pleasing cocks."

They'd share a smile as she stared up at him. I imagined sitting in the backseat of the car, watching, noticing how eager my wife was to please and how worried she was of making a mistake, of making David grow tired of her. I plunged the toy deeper in my pussy and rubbed my clit as I pictured David smiling down at my wife, letting her know he approved of her degrading comment. His approval would fill her with warmth and happiness. Then he'd say something else demeaning.

Something like "Go ahead, slut - get it in your mouth," perhaps. "You think I brought a lezzie like you along just to look at it?"

Or maybe a simple command: "Give me your throat."

Or perhaps a teasing game: "I bet you can't tell which of your friends I fucked last night. Her pussy juice is still all over me."

Whatever he said, I knew that Sarah would eagerly turn back to his shaft and wrap her bee-stung lips around his head. He'd let her go at her own pace at first, letting her pretend she was in control. In my fantasy, David would know that Sarah got nearly as much pleasure from sucking his Adonis-cock as he did from her sucking it. And after all - they both knew who was really in control.

He'd begin pushing down on the back of her head, forcing her to take more and more of his cock into her mouth and throat, not caring at all if it caused her any discomfort.

With a loud, wet GLURK his thick, spongy cockhead would push its way into her throat. He'd moan in pleasure as my wife's lips touched the bottom of his shaft. She'd work her tongue as much as she could as his thick, hard, manmeat filled her mouth, stretching her jaw wide.

"Ahhhh, fuck that's good. Remember when we started? You couldn't deepthroat at all - look at you now," he might say as he struggled to keep the car on the road.

Sarah would moan at that, acknowledging and appreciating his praise and because she knew that the vibrations from her throat would travel to his hard cock, pleasing him even more.

After some time he'd park the car, letting him entwine both hands in my wife's blue hair. He'd carefully slide his car seat back as Sarah's wet mouth stayed attached to his crotch, her cheeks hollowed out as she eagerly fellated him.

"You fucking love this, don't you?" he might ask as her head bobbed in his lap. "This is what you were born for, you know that?"

Sarah would moan, and perhaps one of David's hands would begin to wander, to either cup one of her hanging breasts or to rub her burning pussy.

"All you lesbians talk a big game about some bullshit, but all you really need is a man's rod between your lips."

Perhaps David would tighten his grip and begin moving Sarah's head up and down on his long, powerful cock even faster. She'd be helpless to stop him as his powerful arms drove her up and down, pushing her throat open again and again.

"Fuuuck, there is nothing like fucking a lesbian's throat...dumping a load of cock yogurt on a dyke's tonsils," he'd say.

Or maybe he'd demean her even further, saying something like, "Later on, I'm going to spend some time on the dating apps, looking for someone better looking than you. I'll want you to fuck your face on my cock again, keep me entertained while I look for your replacement."

He might even say: "I bet your cunt is dripping, huh? You love being a fleshlight for a man, don't you, you lesbian fucking whore?"

David was crass, degrading, insulting, misogynistic...but as I pictured the scene in my head, I knew that if it were real, I'd be able to see a wet spot forming on Sarah's crotch as her body responded to the demeaning words like mine had earlier. I felt myself getting closer to cumming as I rammed the dildo in and out of myself in time to David's cock going in and out of my wife's face, in my fantasy.

I moaned and clutched the bedsheets desperately. The idea that my wife wasn't just cheating on me, but betraying me for a man...turning her back on not just our marriage but our identity as lesbians...somehow, it seemed far worse than if she'd just had another woman. Worse, and hotter.

"I'm gonna cum!" I could imagine David gasping, driving himself deep into Sarah's throat with another loud GLURK.

Desperate for air, Sarah would try to push him away, to pull herself back and let her burning lungs fill with oxygen.

"Ah, that's right, cunt," he might say as he easily overpowered her weak struggles and held her all the way down on his shaft. "I like it when you fight."

Hearing it pleased him, she'd surely redouble her efforts to free herself, and I'd realize - if I were actually watching from the backseat - that she had been play-fighting the whole time. She already knew that David enjoyed the game, enjoyed play-rape, enjoyed the idea of forcing himself upon a woman.