Somewhere deep inside of me a very small part of my ego was still alive and
wanted to fight for Moira, but mainly I felt crushed and defeated. Lars had
fucked Moira, but Moira had fucked my mind, my soul. She had shown me that
she could do anything she wanted to me, humiliate me in any way she liked,
rob me of my manhood, and yet _still_ I would love her, depend upon her,
crawl to her. I felt almost as if Moira had tricked me into allowing her to
cut my balls off, yet somehow I was proud of her for doing that to me. What
a woman, what a goddess! I had sold my soul to her and I was glad about it.
I only wanted to discover more of life with this wonderful woman. What else
could she possibly dream up for our marriage? Whatever it might be I was
going to give it a chance!
I was (quite literally) in a state of shock. I had just been forced to
witness my bride being taken by her virile, latin lover. Lars had
finished with her for now. Lazily and full of manly confidence he withdrew
his still huge and well lubricated cock from up my wife. I watched intently,
noting every thick globule of spunk on his shiny knob as it reappeared from
within Moira’s shapely body. When he stood up, leaving Moira prone on our
honeymoon bed, his member bounced in the air before him, still about
three-quarters erect, and enjoying the freedom which my own pathetic willy
was denied, being held tightly confined inside the new, over-small sized
panti-girdle my wife had made me buy earlier that day. I had a sudden
horrible thought that maybe the girdle had been Lars’s idea, and probably
the belt too, which held my wrists together before me. I was trussed like a
turkey, and almost felt like I’d been slaughtered. Every muscle in my body
felt rigid with shock. I felt light-headed, almost as if I might faint at
any moment.
Moira moaned quietly in a satisfied, exhausted tone. The noise drew my eyes
from Lars’s phallus back to the body of this woman who was legally
mine, but whose slave it was clear I had become. She was laying on her back
with her superb, perfectly smooth thighs spread wantonly apart. As I watched
she shifted a little, and a thread of her man’s cum slowly slid from inside
her and began to slither down her cunt lips on to the bed. Lars’s eyes had
followed mine and he guffawed loudly. Then, for the first time, he spoke to
me rather than Moira. “Looks like you’ve been well and truly put in your
place, doesn’t it?” he smirked at me. “I’ve always wanted to have another
man’s bride, and now I’ve done it. I don’t know why women bother marrying
pansy wimps like you. Must be for the money or the security I suppose. Well
she’ll never be satisfied with your little prick again now you know. I’ve
shown her what it’s really like to be taken by a man. She won’t want your
pathetic efforts any more!”
I didn’t dare say a word. Lars looked broad-chested, strong and muscular. I
had my wrists tied together. He had just fucked my wife in front of me and
I’d done nothing. I wasn’t about to do anything rash now. It was still a
shock though when this potent, nude male walked over to me, lifted me out of
my chair, held me to him, and kissed me full on the lips. I struggled to
escape but resistance was hopeless. One arm was all it took Lars to hold me
in his iron embrace. I felt nothing as his lips fastened on mine, neither
stimulation nor repugnance…. only sheer fright! In a second his free hand
was on the crotch of my Berlei panti-girdle, his strong fingers reaching
between my legs, following the slim form of my ensheathed penis. He rubbed
my encased knob vigorously for a few seconds, and then let me go. I fell to
my knees. My world was collapsing.
Originally posted 2008-01-01 17:30:38.
Cuckold Hubby 12
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs