Headline
Message text
CuckDestroyer37, otherwise known as Freddie Carlton, groaned lightly as he shot a thick, shameful load into the tissue in his hand, staring at the disgusting, unacceptable words on the screen. How these degenerate authors could have the nerve to peddle this filth was beyond him.
He wiped up the remains of his reading session, tossed the sticky, wadded tissue into the trash can by his desk, and cracked his fingers with a gleam in his eye. Now that he had cum, it was time to get to the most pleasurable part of reading stories on Lit: showing how superior he was to all the degenerates on the godforsaken website.
"Totally unrealistic! If I were this husband, I would give up on life rather than suffering with his whore of a wife for even another second! Well, that or I would expose her vile misdeeds to all of her friends and family, and let her die crying and alone from STDs. Whoever wrote this is an evil, degenerate psychopath who needs professional help. Stick to watching porn and never write again."
He looked at his work with beaming satisfaction. Perfect! A well-reasoned, thoughtful response that would surely change hearts and minds. Anyone who got off on this kind of story was sick, and he knew in his heart that his comments were saving people from themselves.
Now time to find another story to jerk off to so he could accurately tear down the author...
...
The next day, Amy Carlton slipped into her husband's office with a faint look of guilt on her face. She had a classic, girl-next-door beauty, with lustrous blonde hair, soft blue eyes, and an hourglass figure that inspired just as much lust from men as it did envy from women.
She knew that Freddie didn't like her to "snoop around" in here, in his words. But she just couldn't let the room remain this dirty. She carefully picked up the crumpled soda cans and tossed them into the garbage bag she held, along with old food wrappers and other various bits of garbage.
Amy loved Freddie, but sometimes it did feel like being married to him was like babysitting a teenager. He could be volatile, unreasonable, and sensitive. His pride and insistence on being in control at all times made him hard to get along with at times.
People said that Amy was out of her husband's league, and, in a vacuum, Amy supposed that was true. But Freddie had been there for her at a dark time in her life. Besides, they were high school sweethearts, and Amy was no quitter. Freddie could be sweet when he didn't get too caught up in his need to look masculine and alpha. She held out hope that she just needed to find some way of connecting with her husband. A way to bridge the gap between them that would let him be vulnerable with her.
Amy wrinkled her nose as she saw the wastepaper basket nearly overflowing with crunchy tissues. Gross. Well, if that's what Freddie spent all his time doing in here, then she supposed it made sense that he was having trouble performing in bed. She couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. She was more than willing to connect with her husband sexually, but for some reason he would rather stay up late in his office, getting his sexual pleasure from the internet.
Amy bit her lip, then impulsively sat on the office chair and wiggled the mouse. Well, if this was the sort of secret Freddie was keeping from her, she felt like he had no right to the privacy she had enjoyed up until now. She wanted to see what was so exciting to her husband it kept him out of bed with his wife.
The computer was password protected, but Freddie used the same password for everything. As the lock screen cleared, Amy was surprised to see that Freddie had left open whatever he had been looking at last night. And it was just... words.
Tab after tab of long text documents on some site called "Literotica". Now Amy was even more confused. He wasn't even watching videos? What could be so compelling about these stories?
She read a few paragraphs of one of the tabs. Her eyebrows lowered in confusion. She read a little more. Then a lot more.
Oh... Oh wow...
Amy's husband seemed to be interested in one topic and one topic alone. Cuckolding. Filthy stories of wives betraying and humiliating their husbands by fucking other men.
Well, if this was her husband's fetish, no wonder he had difficulty getting satisfaction from their tender lovemaking. Poor Freddie was so concerned with looking tough and masculine he probably couldn't stand to even bring up the topic of cuckolding with his wife, let alone ask her to explore it with him.
Feeling a little too voyeuristic suddenly, Amy locked the screen of her husband's computer and left the office half-cleaned.
If Freddie noticed that she had tidied up a little that evening, he didn't mention it. But he did spend yet another late night in his office, leaving his wife alone in bed, staring at the ceiling... and thinking.
...
Over the course of the following week, the thought of Freddie's fetish echoed in the back of Amy's mind.
Cuckolding had seemed bizarre and off-putting to Amy at first, but over time, as she thought about it more and more, it started to excite her a little. Being taken by another man with her husband's permission was delightfully kinky when you really thought about it.
And, as much as she hated to admit it, putting Freddie in his place with some light consensual humiliation was pretty appealing as well. He could be a little annoying, and seeing him knocked down a peg could be satisfying.
But even if she might be as interested as Freddie, Amy had no idea how she could get started. Freddie was a proud, stubborn man. If she brought up the idea to him, Amy was sure he would deny being interested to his last breath. If Amy wanted to fulfill his fantasy, she needed to be sneaky.
Like, for instance, by just doing it and presenting the evidence to him afterward. A fait accompli. That way, he could get what he wanted without even having to admit that he wanted it.
It was maybe a little mean to keep him in the dark for a while, but, after all, he had hid his fetish and porn addiction from her.
It took another week for Amy to figure out exactly how she was going to do it, but in the end, figuring out how to get into cuckolding was a lot easier than expected. There were forums and chat servers dedicated to the topic, and when Amy posted anonymously about her desire to try cuckolding out, there were dozens of men eager to help her.
It turned out that there was a surplus of men wanting to be "bulls" and a shortage of wives who wanted to cuckold their husbands, so really she was spoiled for choice. After her first day of posting, her inbox was full of men sending pictures, measurements... practically their resumes, vying for her affections.
It was really quite exciting. Amy felt like a kid in a candy store, picking out which man to experiment with first...
...
Arranging her first ever cuckold experience had been even easier that Amy had suspected. All she had to do was choose the nicest, most attractive person from the offers filling her inbox, and she had a date set for a few days later when Freddie was going out for a day with "the boys".
She felt almost like a secret agent, sneaking out of the house in a dark pair of sunglasses, driving to an agreed-upon meeting point, then slipping into another man's car.
"Maurice" (not his real name, he assured her, it was simpler if they kept things anonymous) was as hot as he looked in his online pictures. He drove a large luxury SUV with a spotless leather interior that smelled faintly of spiced cologne. He was impeccably dressed, in a blazer over a casual v-neck, with a tasteful, but clearly expensive watch on his wrist.
But, even though Maurice was handsome and greeted her with a charming smile and a kiss of her hand, the reality of her situation began to sink in as the ride went on. She was in a car with a stranger. A man who wasn't her husband. Worse, she had already told him she was interested in sex with him.
But just as her mind was about to spin out into panic, Maurice shot her a look and said in a calm, steady voice, "Hey... feeling a little nervous?"
Amy let out a burst of breath and a shaky laugh. "Ummm, well... Yes. A little bit," she admitted sheepishly. She was the one who requested this, and now she was acting like a scared little girl. What must he think of her?
Maurice nodded and said, "Totally normal. This is a big step for you and your husband. But don't worry at all. We'll just head to the hotel room and have some drinks. Relax and get to know each other. If something happens it happens. If it doesn't feel right, I drive you back to your car and we part as friends. Sound good?""
"Yes," said Amy gratefully with a smile, "That sounds perfect."
Amy was relieved to find that the hotel room Maurice had booked was the height of luxury, not the seedy motel room she had feared. Maurice himself was a good conversationalist, and after a few drinks (far earlier in the day than Amy usually drank alcohol), she was completely loosened up, relaxed, and curious to try more of the lifestyle she had signed up for.
It happened naturally. One moment, they were laughing over a joke, Maurice's warm, dark eyes fixed on hers, then the energy seemed to spark between them and they pulled together like a magnet.
Their lips locked with desperate heat. She could taste the gin on Maurice's tongue as it slipped into her mouth, tangling with hers. Her hands raised to wrap around shoulders much broader than her husband's, and her breath caught in her throat. Her body was heating hot... far hotter than Freddie had ever gotten her. Was it because of the taboo thrill? Or just because Maurice was much more attractive than her husband?
Maurice's hand rested on her hip... then slowly slid down, tracing around the front of her thigh, seeking the center. Amy could feel the heat and pressure of intense arousal building in her belly. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted everything from him.
Her phone buzzed, vibrating hard enough to audibly rattle against the other items in her purse. The sound immediately took her out of the moment, and she hurried over to check who it was. Her worst fears were confirmed when she opened up the text. It was Freddie. He had forgotten some golf accessory she didn't understand, and was demanding that Amy drive it out to him at the course.
Amy sighed, frustration welling up inside her. Just when she was starting to enjoy herself, Freddie had to spoil the mood. Well... she supposed that she was doing this for him anyway.
She started to answer the text, saying that it might take a while, but she would be right there, when, shockingly, Maurice reached down and snatched the phone from her hands.
Amy looked up at him with puzzled shock as he read the text with a smirk. "Look at that," he said, shaking his head. "Hubby wants some of your attention, huh? What a needy little cuck."
Amy was confused, but intrigued by his words. She reached for her phone and said, "Sorry Maurice, I had better be going. It sounds like my husband needs..."
Maurice held the phone out of her reach with a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm sure hubby has all sorts of needs all the time. What about your needs, pretty lady?"
Amy paused, staring into Maurice's dark, expressive eyes, suddenly aware of how her posture, reaching up for the phone in his hand, was pressing her body close to his. "I..." she said, licking her lips, "I'm only doing this with you because it's something my husband likes."
Maurice grinned. "Ahhh, now I can really tell that you're a newbie. Cuckolding isn't about the cuck, pretty lady. It's about you. Your power. Your needs. Your pleasure. You need to put yourself first. That's what your cuckold really wants to see. That's what is really going to get him off: to see you prioritizing your pleasure, and seeing that that doesn't involve him."
Amy bit her lip, tempted beyond belief by Maurice's words. She had always put her husband first. She had been trying so hard to get through to him, to reach out, to understand. The idea of putting herself first for a chance was intoxicating.
Her phone buzzed again in Maurice's hand, and she reached for it again out of impulse. Surprisingly, Maurice handed it back to her, but as he did, he said, "Ok. Now I want you to toss your phone away without reading it."
Amy's pulse thumped in her chest. What if Freddie was texting asking where she was? She wanted to surprise him by getting into his fetish, but she wasn't ready to reveal it right now!
But slowly, feeling her arousal simmering in her belly, Amy tossed her phone gently onto the bed, maintaining eye contact with the confident man looming over her.
"Now repeat after me," said Maurice with a cocky smirk, "Fuck that pathetic cuck."
Amy blushed, but got the words out in a scandalized whisper. "F-fuck that pathetic... pathetic cuck."
'I'm going to do what I want," continued Maurice in a deep, persuasive tone.
"I'm going to do what I want," repeated Amy with growing confidence, pressing her body into Maurice's tall, muscular form as the phone buzzed angrily on the bed once again.
Then they were all over each other, Amy swooning into her new lover's passionate kiss, his strong, roaming hands. Clothes flew off. Hot skin brushed against hot skin.
Maurice threw her onto the bed, now wearing only pink panties with a dark wet patch soaking through the crotch. The phone began to buzz rhythmically beside her. Freddie was calling. She didn't give a shit.
Maurice loomed above her, his dark body looking like it had been carved out of Onyx. His cock jutted out from between his muscular thighs, thick, powerful, and dripping precum already. Amy had never been with any man besides her husband, but her body buzzed with desire to give it a try.
Maurice picked up the vibrating phone with a sneer, commenting, "Wow! This cuck really is a chatty Cathy isn't he?"
"You have no idea," moaned Amy, mashing her hot wet panties into her sex as she rubbed herself, her eyes focused on Maurice's huge cock. "He always has to have his opinion heard. Always desperate for attention."
Maurice grinned wickedly, holding up Amy's phone. "Well... cuckolding is about getting pleasure from your husband's insecurity, right? Let's turn that pathetic desperation to be heard to our advantage, shall we?"
Amy had no idea what Maurice meant until he slipped the phone down the front of her panties, letting her underwear hold the phone snugly against her hot, wet pussy."Maurice!" She gasped, "What are you...?" The phone buzzed as her husband sent yet another text, sending a powerful vibration through her sensitive pussy and cutting off her question into a strangled moan as she writhed against the sensation.
"There," chuckled Maurice, "Now it's almost like a threesome, isn't it? Your cuck is lucky... getting the chance to pleasure you like this. Now come over here. I want to teach you how to cum a real man's cock."
Keeping her phone tucked firmly against her pussy, Amy crawled to him, her eyes wide and her mouth watering as she stared at his magnificent cock. She knew at any second her husband might send another fussy, demanding text about who knew what, unknowingly stimulating her as she sucked another man's cock. The anticipation made it even more exciting.
Lying forward on the bed, her phone between her legs (probably getting ruined, but she would worry about that later), Amy reached out reverently to close her dainty fingers around another man's cock for the first time.
It felt good in her hands. Strong. Thick. Manly. Amy gave it a few experimental strokes, then her hands squeezed tight as her body tensed and a whimpering moan escaped her lips. Her husband was texting again. Struggling to make his voice heard. But he couldn't, not right now. Right now, his incessant whining was just a sex toy augmenting his wife's forbidden pleasure.
"Kiss it," demanded Maurice above her, his eyes burning with dominant lust. Amy's heart was in her throat as she obeyed, planting a soft, wet kiss on the tip of his thick, drooling cock, tasting the salty musk of his precum on her tongue.
"Good girl," said Maurice with a chuckle. You like how my cock tastes?"
"Yes sir," said Amy, the answer leaping to her lips without thought, feeling completely natural. She felt completely under this handsome man's control, pleasantly pushed around by the force of his strong personality. She wanted more. And he gave it to her.
"Well then... you had better get a better taste," said Maurice. "Suck my cock, pretty lady. Make me feel how much you want me."
Shaking with adrenaline and feeling fiery lust pulsing through every nerve, Amy planted another kiss on the tip of Maurice's big black cock. Then she deepened it, taking his throbbing head between her lips, then deeper, into her mouth. Her tongue tentatively traced the shape of a strange cock... so much bigger than her husband's. Amy gave blowjobs to Freddie occasionally, as a treat, but it wasn't something she usually enjoyed per se: just a nice thing she did for her husband.
But she was enjoying this now. The feeling of pleasing this dominant, powerful man sent a thrill of lust down her spine. She Began bobbing her head up and down slowly, closing her eyes and savoring every inch of her new lover's salty skin.
Then her husband called again.
Amy whimpered against Maurice's cock as her phone buzzed again and again, sandwiched between her throbbing pussy and the mattress. She ground her hips downward as she took the huge cock deeper and deeper. Her husband wanted to talk. Wanted to whine. Wanted to demand that she listen. Wanted to be the center of attention
But right now it was all about her and Maurice. Her husband's pathetic desire to make his opinion heard was not just a pleasurable buzz enhancing her taboo pleasure. Maurice's cock slid deeper... deeper... She was focused on his pleasure... and on hers.
Her husband's call went to voicemail, and Amy felt a brief surge of disappointment... But her husband couldn't help his annoying tendency to be the center of attention. He called again, just as she successfully opened her throat and took Maurice's thick cock inside.
She was cumming. God she was cumming from having a stranger's cock stretching out her married throat. She moaned deeply, rubbing her pussy desperately downward into her vibrating phone as waves of powerful orgasm washed over her. She had no idea how Maurice managed to avoid orgasm with her tight throat vibrating against his cock almost as much as her phone was from her wild moans, but it seemed he had far more stamina than her husband.
He withdrew his cock, shiny with her thick saliva, and flipped her over, plucking the buzzing phone from her panties.
Giving her a cheeky wink, he slid a thick finger across the screen to decline the call, powered the phone down... then licked Amy's juices off his finger from handling the dripping phone.
"Enough from him," he growled. "It's time for you and me." He moved up onto the bed, on his hands and knees over the smiling, blushing wife beneath him.
With a nervous giggle, Amy stripped her panties off, saying in a raspy bedroom whisper,
"Fuck that pathetic Cuck. I'm going to do what I want..."
...
A few weeks later...
I sat by myself at a picnic table the Corporation had set up on the lawn behind the building, eating my one slice of ham and a piece of processed cheese on my white Wonder Bread. Of course I'd obviously eat Wonder Bread. Just like the commercial said, "Wonder Bread builds strong bodies 8 ways."
And all of my almost five feet of body is strong, especially my dick, uh, I mean my cock. Strong as a nail. My gorgeous wife calls it "brad." I don't know why she picked that name, but clearly she admires it.
On these nice summer days at lunchtime I enjoy taking over this picnic table. I have it all to myself, it's actually fulfilling to see how I can intimidate my coworkers enough to sit at other tables instead of attempting to join me.
All throughout the day at work my alpha status is confirmed. I probably am blessed with some sort of alpha face, or maybe I have an alpha walk, or just exude that alpha confidence. At times it becomes tiring, and sometimes a little lonely. But I have to accept that it's rare air for those of us at the top of the food chain.
One thing I don't like about maintaining my alpha status is all the Wonder Bread I eat. I make my sandwich and throw it in my briefcase among all those files that crush the Wonder Bread. Remember pinching the Wonder Bread together into those tough dough balls? It probably was all the nutrients gelling together into that hard ball, the same nutrients that made for strong bodies.
Those files. Ugh. I have to take them home to work on for my boss, actually my ex-boss Dominic, who just got promoted again.
It's sort of funny, he considers himself all big and handsome, a former Navy Seal and Ex-NFL quarterback. God, the things some men must do to make up for their low self-esteem.
Anyways, he just keeps getting promoted and doesn't even realise his prior co-workers talk him up and praise him just to get him promoted and away from them. Me, however? Yeah, I've been in the same job for about 15 years now. Mr. Stable, Reliable, Dependable. Solid as they come. In fact, my coworkers rarely bother me.
My ex-boss does remind me of my days in high school. God, what a flashback. I remember living in Mom's basement with my Windows XP computer and my dial-up internet. Sheesh how it peeved Mom when she had to make a phone call and I was tying up the phone line dominating other guys in those chat rooms.
Yeah, it was early internet days but those chat rooms got pretty hot. I remember how I had to pose as a girl in order to get chats going and even have some chat sex with guys. Shit, it makes my dick hard just thinking about it now!
I love it when my dicky, um, I mean my cock gets hard at work. No one really notices it, it's fun to wear a hard-on around the office with no one noticing. It gives me a real rush, what I call the "alpha rush."
Anyways, I remember I didn't get along with the high school quarterback. He was really pissed at me because I had a crush on a cheerleader who happened to be nice to him. But she was nice to me as well. I remember in the lunchroom her milk carton fell off her lunch tray and I picked it up for her, really gentlemanly like. She flashed me a beautiful smile and winked at me and purred "thank you."
Well that was the start of my relationship with her. I had to keep it on the down-low so the QB wouldn't get too upset or distracted and mess up his performance in the Friday night game. But I'd occasionally buy her a new pencil case, or a flower and leave it in her locker. Whenever she opened her locker she'd smile, sniff the flower, then hug the jock. She just couldn't let on to him that we were in love.
I wanted to ask her to the school dance, but that would be so very obvious that I was stepping on the simp-y QB's feelings that I felt it best to just let him ask her. After all, you know school spirit and all, I didn't want to depress him and affect his performance on the football field.
Sometimes we alphas have to make a sacrifice here and there to maintain order.
When we got our senior yearbooks I looked up the QBs name and pretended I was writing in his own yearbook. I wouldn't do that for real, there's only so much humiliation a pretend alpha like that could take. Besides, he didn't ask me to sign his yearbook.
But I wrote "While you were playing with guys on a field with your hands on the ass of your center, I was fucking the cheerleader under the bleachers. I timed her orgasms with the touchdowns so you wouldn't hear her screaming at the pleasure I gave her. Your tiny steroid dick would never be enough to impregnate any woman, so good luck with your team because you'll never birth a team of your own you cuck!"
Yeah it never happened, well, I did dream about it while jacking off. It felt good to write that. I bet he writes cuck stories for Loving Wives on Literotica.
A hilarious thing happened in a big meeting today in the conference room, but I have a few more minutes of lunch and I have to leave this comment on this stupid writer's story in Lit.:
"This is the run-of-the-mill clueless and idiotic cuck. Honestly, you're a better author than that and you write the same story that plagues this site for years. Moronic husband who willingly accepts and encourages his wife's cheating and the wife is so dumb she can't walk and chew gum. It's just so disappointing."
Damn I love writing those burns. One star. Maybe he'll learn how to write.
I see another new story just pop up, there's no time to read it so to save time I'll just make a pretty standard comment:
"Besides all the gammatical errors this is just another bad story filled with clitches. Nothing original, but to not even try... "
Sometimes after reading some of these cuck stories which I call "anti-alpha" stories, I sort of get a little randy and worked up. Sometimes I go to my Literotica profile and look up My Comments where I insult the writers and the stupid cuck stories, those weak men that give away their wives and get off on it.
So I go to the lower level of the building and use one of the old bathrooms where no one usually goes so I can get a satisfying release from my balls. I don't call it a 'hand' job, I only need two fingers because I think all the time I've been slamming the ham it sort of shrunk my cock a little.
Have you ever heard of retrograde ejaculation? It's when the juice goes backwards into the bladder instead of making all that mess. I should probably visit a urologist because I usually only have about a teaspoon of spunk, sometimes less, so it's probably that retrograde thing. In any case it doesn't affect my lovemaking since my wife doesn't like getting her face splattered with my cum, so it works out pretty good for both of us.
Oh, about that big meeting today. It was held in the main conference room. I got there early to watch the procession of alphas and betas enter the room.
The betas were all really cucks. Corporate cucks, but cucks nonetheless. They all had no self-awareness that they were cucks. Cucks are so deluded, their lack of self-esteem and poser behavior is really quite obvious to an alpha.
The betas walk in with a real purposeful walk as if they had authority, their arms loaded with briefing books and paperwork then sit in the armless chairs against the wall with their faces grimicing as if they're bad-asses, a 'don't fuck with me I'm important' kind of face.
The alphas walk in all relaxed, smiling faces, looking friendly, casual banter, and sit in the luxurious leather armchairs at the conference table. As the meeting progressed these guys would discuss matters until there was a dispute and that's when the smiling faces turned. Yeah, a big difference in attitude.
Sometimes a dispute would erupt between two Alpha managers of competing departments when suddenly the smiles turned to anger or a threatening face, and the battle was on.
At times an Alpha would bark a question at one of the betas or request a document, and suddenly that beta face of power and determination would change. The eyebrows would raise, the voice level higher, maybe even beginning with a squeak, revealing the underling not to be an alpha, but a beta. Basically a corporate cuck handing paperwork to the Alpha at the table.
I get a silent laugh when this happens. It's hilarious. Once I remember walking out of the meeting next to Dominic and mentioned how funny it was when one of the cucks had to give an answer and his voice squeaked before stumbling over his words.
Well this must have pricked Dom's conscience because he lashed out at me, well, maybe not lashed out but he responded with hurt feelings. He said, "Freddie, you think you're such a bad-ass but where are you sitting? Against the wall, not at the table. Get it? You've been at this company for 15 years and you're still a level four when everyone at the table's been here less than that and they're level 16. So who's the cuck?"
I sighed at his hurt feelings, but in a corporate environment you've got to let people say what they feel. I have enough self-respect to not take what he said personally. Frequently those guys that accuse another guy of being a cuck are just projecting their own negative feelings about themselves, that in reality, deep down, they truly are themselves a cuck.
Well anyways, I just finished reading another terrible cuck story and have to make a comment:
"Honestly I can't stand cuck culture. Your story makes it difficult to care about anyone involved. I think this is a hot story but I think that these husbands are in need of professional mental help. Who in their right mind wants their woman to fuck a bigger cock who might use it better or who she enjoys more because of the whole scenario. It's crazy to me. My friend's wife got picked up one night when they were drunk and high. My friend cried when he saw his wife fucked in the ass for her first time. What a cuck. I always wondered if they lasted together, kept doing it now that they tried it, or if it was a one off. As an alpha I control my wife and what she does. Man up guys! Don't cuck up or you'll fuck up! "
...
Freddie looked at the clock on the bottom of the laptop screen, 8:43 PM. He'd usually be getting ready for bed with Amy at this time, but her boss, Thomas, had her working late again for the third time this week.
He shook his head in disgust as he scrolled through another story on the Literotica website. Amy never pushed back, never demanded the respect she deserved. Just smiled and took it when Thomas called her into his office while the office emptied out at five sharp.
He cracked his knuckles and returned to the comment section. Story after story about weak men who couldn't satisfy their wives, who actually enjoyed watching stronger men take what should be theirs. These beta cucks obviously had no idea what the category "loving wives" meant, so it was his duty to dismantle their awful writing in a way they would understand.
"Fool husband is newlywed cuck married to a hotwhore It's obvious where this is going to end, the wife is going to fuck her boss. The husband will end up divorced after being turned into a too weak to do anything about it cuck. Really sad and cliche."
Another one-star review. He hit submit just as his phone buzzed next to him. He went to reach for it, knocking his half-eaten bag of Cheetos onto the floor and nearly knocking over his Mt. Dew. He didn't bother cleaning it up, Amy would do it. That was her job as a woman, after all.
Amy: Sorry, babe, going to be a couple more hours. Thomas is really working me over. Don't wait up.
Freddie growled to himself when he read the text. Stupid Thomas needed to be put in his place. The only good thing about Amy working these late nights was that she always came home raring to go. He knew that was because, like a true Alpha, he'd not only trained her that way, but she could probably smell the pheromones coming off him. It was the same concept as a dog being in heat. Basic science that anyone with half a brain should be able to understand.
He was about to shut off his laptop and call it a night when a new story caught his eye: "Working late for my demanding boss".
"Fucking pathetic," Freddie said to himself, rolling his eyes. It seemed to be the first part of a four-part series that had a 4.2 overall rating. If Amy wasn't going to be back for a while, the least he could do was lower the rating on this cuck-show. It was just a bunch of sheep following sheep. He would be doing the world a service. He bent over with a huff, picking up the bag of Cheetos he'd dropped earlier, then grabbed two that had spilled from the bag and popped them into his mouth. He sat back up, trying to catch his breath, licking the orange dust off his fingers before wiping them on his shirt, which read: Smoke fat doobies and slap fat booties.
He clicked on chapter 1, already formulating his opening line about how unrealistic the premise was. What kind of man would tolerate his wife working late with another man? The author clearly had no understanding of how real relationships worked.
The chapter opened innocently enough, the wife, Sarah, told her husband how her new boss seemed to be more hands-on than usual. Her husband, Mark, assured her everyone's management style was different and he was sure her boss had the best intentions.
Freddie clenched his jaw when reading the chapter. The first thing that sparked his interest was that Sarah's description was very similar to Amy's. She had piercing blue eyes, and blond hair. Her chest was described as "large" which Freddie took to mean at least a DD cup since that's what Amy was.
The second thing that got his attention, and not in a good way, was what a spineless waste of a man the husband seemed to be. "Of course, honey. Work as long as you need. I'll wait up for you." No real man would say that crap. He would shut that shit down immediately.
His one-star review flew from the tips of his fingers, like he was the editor for The Times.
"Unrealistic trash. No alpha male would tolerate this blatant disrespect. It's so obvious what the boss is doing. Just another cuck writing more cuck stories."
He wasn't sure why he even bothered, but something about the story compelled him to click on Chapter 2. If he was going to properly eviscerate this person, he might as well do it chapter by chapter.
Chapter 2 escalated things. Sarah started telling Mark how her boss, Thomas (what a coincidence), would rub her shoulders during their late-night sessions. Sarah would tease Mark, asking him if that made her naughty and if she should ask Thomas to stop. Mark admitted it was hot, he trusted Sarah and knew she would stop it before it got too far.
Freddie's breathing grew heavier as he read the detailed description of how Sarah manipulated her husband with sex in order to go further with Thomas. It wasn't so much the cuck scene that was making Freddie start to pant, it was the author's description of Thomas. He was clearly an Alpha, Freddie pictured himself as Thomas preparing to fuck Sarah while her stupid cuck husband sat at home clueless.
"More cuck drabble," he wrote with one hand. "Any real man would never let another man touch his wife. They should just divorce now and save everyone the embarrassment. One Star!
An hour had passed since Amy had texted. He didn't want to, but he decided to kill more time by reading another chapter of this trash story. After all, if he wrote enough well-thought-out comments, maybe this author would finally see the error in their ways.
Chapter 3 was almost exactly how Freddie thought it would be. More beta crap designed as erotic literature. This chapter brought Sarah's first orgasm. Thomas cornered her in the office one night after working late. She barely even put up much of a fight as he sank his hand into her pants, where she was, of course, dripping wet. Thomas was everything Mark wasn't. He took control and didn't just wait around for his woman to return. He dominated her in a way that all women craved and soon she was cumming all over his fingers, probably forgetting all about her loser husband.
Freddie shifted in his two-thousand dollar gaming chair, his fingertips lightly tracing the outline of his rock-hard, four inch, alpha cock. The author clearly wished he was an alpha like Freddie and the antagonist he was writing. He felt his cock start to pulse as his free hand trembled on the keyboard. "Why did this whore even bother getting married? It's clear her weak husband can't satisfy her." ONE STAR!
The buzz from Freddie's phone went unanswered as he finished writing his scathing review. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, eating the last of his Cheetos before noticing the text from his wife.
Amy: "I'M COMING!!!
"About time," Freddie thought, before loading up the last chapter. Might as well see what kind of shit ending this story had.
In chapter 4, things heated up to a whole new level. Mark, the stupid cuck, actually seemed to get off on the idea of Sarah cheating on him. Not that she told him explicitly, but she would always come home from work flustered and tell him stories about what Thomas said. The climax, both literally and figuratively, happened with Sarah once again working late. This time it was her that initiated contact with her boss, because of course she can't resist his big dick energy. She thought she could get away with just giving him head, but Thomas was an alpha, he knew he could get more.
In true alpha fashion, Thomas sent Sarah home with a massive creampie. However, the story ended on a cliff hanger with him telling Sarah to go home and let her husband eat her and taste what a real man does to her. Of course she would, because she was nothing more than a slut who couldn't be satisfied by her husband.
Freddie's heart was racing as he read the detailed sex scene of Sarah giving in to Thomas's dominance. He hadn't realized it, but he wrapped his hand around his cock feeling the precum coat his hand as he thought about how Sarah must be loving experiencing sex with a real man. His breathing grew ragged as he thought about that cuck Mark sitting at home waiting for his wife not knowing that he was going to be eating another man's cum.
His toes curled in the chair as his eyes fluttered closed. Sarah seemed to be a completely different person with Thomas, taking his Alpha dick enthusiastically over and over again until he grunted and filled her with his seed.
"Oh shit," Freddie moaned, his orgasm sneaking up on him, but he was past the point of no return. His final thought before covering his hand in his cum was that Sarah was probably pregnant with Thomas's child and that pathetic loser of a husband would have no idea.
Freddie grabbed a tissue off the desk and wiped up his hand, just as he saw headlights shine through the office window. It was almost midnight now, but at least Amy was finally home. He cursed himself under his breath for getting so worked up over the story. Not because the writing was good, it was complete trash, but because he understood the mindset of Thomas. It was Thomas acting like a true alpha that made him cum, not that whore Sarah or beta cuck Mark. Still, he was a man, and as a man, he would still make sure his wife got pleasure tonight. He knew his oral skills were second to none. She might not say it, but she always came so hard with him, because she'd been trained to. That was the mark of a real alpha.
"Disgusting beta fantasy. Mark's weakness throughout this entire series is nauseating. Real alphas don't let other men steal their wives. The author clearly has a cuck fetish and projects it onto fictional characters. Worst ending possible. I wish I could give it negative stars, but since I can't. One star."
He clicked submit and pushed away from the desk.
The office door closed just as Amy walked through the one in the front. Their eyes met, and a slow grin formed on Freddie's face. Amy could barely look at him, her gaze pinned to the floor. She knows she shouldn't have kept me waiting so long, that's why she can't look at me.
"You're home late," Freddie said, taking a step toward his wife. She looked a mess. Her golden hair was tousled like she'd been fighting a wild animal. Her blouse was completely untucked, the buttons misaligned, and her makeup looked like it had been running. Freddie's chest swelled at the sight of her. She must have really missed me. It looks like she wasn't able to keep it together at all on the way home.
"I... I'm sorry," Amy whispered, like a woman who knew her place. "Thomas was relentless. I thought we would go all night." That beta bastard. He's probably not used to having someone so hot around him and was just looking for excuses to keep her around a little longer. How weak.
He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, her skin was sticky with sweat. She probably ran up the driveway just to get inside that much faster. "Freddie, I... I should shower first. Thomas, he..."
"Shh," he growled, pressing his mouth to hers to cut her off. She must have been using a different lip gloss, it tasted saltier than usual. It wasn't bad, just not the strawberry taste he was used to. "No more talk about work. I decide when you shower, and first, I want to give you a proper welcome home."
Her body tenses as Freddie kissed her neck, his hands sliding up her toned legs. She's shaking, and I haven't even started. That's the power I have over her.
He dropped to his knees in front of her like a good soldier answering the call of duty, hiking her skirt up her legs.
"Baby, wait. I..."
She was such a perfect mate. It was obvious she wanted him to stop because she wanted to pleasure him, not the other way around. He really did have her trained well. But, he ignored her pleas, instead opting to slide her skirt higher, revealing her soaked panties clinging to her skin. She'd decided to wear white today, and they were nearly transparent. All this just from the sound of his voice. He was like Andrew Tate meets Barry White.
"Wow babe, you must have really missed me," he chucked, running her fingers over the front of the fabric and watching her white cream seep from the edges. "You're already creaming for me, aren't you?"
"I.. ahhh," Amy lost her train of thought as Freddie pulled the fabric aside and slid his tongue across her glossy, cream-filled slit.
He couldn't believe how worked up she was just from working all day and missing him. He couldn't remember if she'd ever creamed this much before, but as his tongue lapped up the thick goo still spilling from her swollen lips he knew no man could ever make her feel the way he did.
He pushed his tongue deeper inside her glazed hole, he wanted to make sure he got every drip of her cream. She was absolutely soaked for him, her taste slightly tangier. More musky, more... fermented?
Whatever, he thought, lapping it up and causing her to rock her hips back and forth. This is what happens when an alpha takes control. Bitches just cream at the thought of it.
Her fingers tangled in her hair, pushing his fat tongue deeper inside her folds. "Oh God, Freddie. I... I didn't know it would feel so good. Fuck baby, I thought you'd be mad, but you love it, don't you?" Her nails digging into the base of his skull, her hips rocking harder.
He chuckled into her, his wet slurping sounds echoing through the house. He couldn't believe how much cream she'd produced, it must have been gallons. This was just like her, thinking he would be upset because he was only pleasing her instead of fucking her. She was so well trained.
"I love it so much. You should come home like this every day. This is how I know that you belong to me." He felt her legs start to shake. She was about to cum. Just a few licks from his masterful tongue, and she was already about to have an orgasm. Freddie couldn't be prouder.
"Oh fuck, baby. I... I can't believe you're saying that. I thought maybe this was too far."
Freddie grabbed her perfect ass, pulling her body closer as she shook. He felt her walls close around his tongue, her orgasm hitting her hard enough to make her collapse into him. He sat back on his heels, his face glistening. "That was so hot, babe. I can't believe how turned on you were." He ran his arm across his face, wiping off the crusty white goo that coated his nose, face, and chin, still glowing in the satisfaction of how utterly dominant he was.
"Thomas told me he wanted to put me to work all night long," she giggled, slipping away toward the shower. "I told him you might get jealous... but I guess I was wrong."
"Keep letting him wear you out if it means I get to enjoy the reward. That's what a real man does. He lets his woman come home hungry.
...
Freddie wiped his cum off the keyboard. Another shitty story about a bunch of pussy ass cucks and their whore wives. He really couldn't believe that people read this shit for pleasure--he just read it so he would know how to respond to the cuck ass, pussy authors who wrote the stories. It wasn't about the stories themselves, but the principle of the thing. Freddie couldn't in good conscience sit there on his thumbs and let a whole generation of men be turned into cucks. Only he--his comments--would save the forgotten gender from their own dark, degenerate desires.
This latest story was one where a wife got gangbanged by the cuck's friends. They fucked her in every hole--AT THE SAME TIME. Freddie gagged and had almost orgasmed right then from how disgusting that had been to read.
"Fucking degenerates." He had pumped and scrolled.
As he got the last bit of cum out of the keyboard, he reconnected it--ready to finally add his comment.
"This is the most unrealistic set up I have ever read. I couldn't even finish the story. Especially when they started to put it in her mouth and butt, that is absolutely disgusting. One is for eating and the other is for pooping. Fucking degenerates.
This story really just inspires great indifference."
Fuck yeah! That will show them, I commented twice so it means more, he thought. That way, people could see how bad of a story it really was. He smiled, his work was done for this story. Now he could go on his fishing trip with his buddies.
...
Amy's mind kept drifting to Freddie's internet history. She still couldn't believe how many cuckolding stories there were. If she was any more naive, she would think he had read every cuck story on that site. He especially seemed to like the wife gangbanging stories. Which made the email she had gotten so exciting! And she was on her way to her appointment.
Freddie wouldn't see her messages yet, he always turned off his phone when he was on his fishing trips with the boys--the fleeting thought that he might prefer her to do this specific act with his friends crossed her mind, but it was already too late to cancel her current appointment. As it was, she was only five or so minutes from the location.
She texted him either way, addressing him by his preferred pet name:
Amy: Hey, my soldier! Just wanted to let you know I'll have a surprise for you when you come home tomorrow!
Amy: I'm going to make your fantasies come true, soldier.
She parked the car and steeled herself. This was by far the most daring thing she was going to do and she really hoped he liked it.
"I can't believe I'm about to do this!" She squealed. Part of her was nervous and scared, but for the most part? She was excited! "Okay Amy! You're not the good girl momma and poppa raised you to be, you're Freddie's hot wife!" She giggled.
It still felt so weird that she had discovered this about her husband. He always seemed so jealous... so alpha. Who would have thought he was a massive cuck? Otherwise why would he spend so much time reading those stories?
She shook her head, she was far past that. "No going back, Amy! You got this! Yeah!" She looked into her own blue eyes, willing herself to break out of her shell completely.
She needed to with what she was about to do.
The knock on her window startled her. The man outside was impressive, far bigger than Freddie. He had several tattoos on his brown skin, some of them in some Latino street slang she couldn't understand. She didn't even know what language that was.
"Ma'am, can I help you?" He flashed his security badge.
"Oh--uh--hi!" She squeaked.
"Yeah. Hi, ma'am. This is private property. You can't park here."
"Oh! It is? I'm sorry, I was told to come here, look!" The security guard eyed her ample cleavage as she tapped her phone screen, searching for the email. She popped it open and showed it to him. He took the phone from her and her hand recoiled, she was super jumpy, which made her boobs bounce boobily and bountifully.
"Oh! You're Amy! We've been expecting you. Sorry about that. We don't get a lot of traffic here. Well, any, if I'm being honest. Had me on edge for a moment. Come with me." Amy stepped out of the car, she could feel the heat from the large guard's stare from above her. Then he stepped in front of her to the door. He looked up at the camera and did a sign with his hands. Amy wondered if that was sign language. A moment later, they heard a beep, then a latch. The guard grabbed the handle and opened the door.
She had been expecting a studio, but this looked like a big house--no--a mansion. There were several men inside, a few on the second floor balcony--but she wasn't the run of the mill, dumb blonde bimbo. No, she was smarter than that, something was up. Those on the balcony were all carrying guns.
Three men came up to her, but only one of them talked. He was shorter than the others--his collared shirt only buttoned at the top, a hairnet holding his slicked back hair in place. The other two--bald, all with tear drop tattoos--were just staring at her, Amy felt like a tiny gazelle caught between a pride of lions. With nowhere to run, she froze.
He whistled at her.
"Orale mamacita. Got some bitties on you. I'm Rob, but you can call me Mr. Rob. The security behind you is called Trespatas."
"Treespathas?"
"Trespatas." He laughed in her face, looking at his homies. They didn't even smile, just kept staring at her. Particularly her cleavage.
"Threepanties?"
The older of the two silent ones eyebrows scrunched up. "Yo foo, is this heina serious? You're saying it right in front of her and she still can't say it. Or is she racist, foo." He eyed her up and down, disgust on his face.
Amy's own eyebrows scrunched up. "I'm sorry, I have never heard that language before! I'm not racist I swear! Our maid is a brown person. I just want to know what it means."
Rob laughed heartily. "Yo this guera is funny as fuck. Come on, guera, let's get to the studio."
"Okay, Rob. Is the owner there?"
"Rob, this heina's trippin." The guard chuckled.
"Shh. It's okay guys, she's new here. It's her first time. Not the last, I hope." Rob put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. He leaned into her ear, his lips tickling her.
"I own everything."
She smiled up at him. The butterflies in her stomach did somersaults. She wondered how a cholo like him wound up being the owner of this.
He opened the door to the studio and Amy's mouth dropped. There was a really expensive looking camera on a stand in the middle of the room pointing at a couch against the wall. Outside of the camera's perspective, there was a whole set up--a large screen, several computers, a couple of handheld cameras connected to the computers, and some sound proofing. These guys were professionals.
"This is going to be a private shoot, right?"
"That's right, guera." One of the bald guys sat on either side of the big couch, leaving a spot in the middle for her.
"Alright. So, did you wear something sexy underneath like we told you to?" Rob went to the computer, not bothering to look at her as he woke up each PC.
"Yes, Rob." She answered sweetly, putting her hands behind her back.
"Yes, Mr. Rob, guera." He corrected her.
"Oh! I'm sorry! Yes, Mr. Rob."
"Alright foos, time to introduce yourselves."
"I'm Smokey, but in the studio the heinas call me Handle." The bigger one on the left said.
"Handle? Why do they call you Handle?"
"Because they can't handle it." He smiled at her and winked.
"Oh! What can't they handle?" His smile dropped and his eyes met Rob's.
"Orale guey, esta heina sí que está bien pendeja."
"You'll see, guera." Rob told her as he started to adjust the camera.
Her eyes went wide as Handle grabbed his crotch. She covered her mouth--causing Handle's smile to come back. She wasn't sure if what she was seeing was real. Freddie had told her that his penis was average. If his was average... then Handle's was at least three times the size of the average penis.
The couch and the two homies popped onto one of the--relatively--smaller screens.
"What do they call you?" She asked the one on the right.
"I'm Pookie, but you can call me Sancho."
"What does that mean?" Amy wasn't expecting to have to decipher their street slang, she was here for pleasure--and Freddie.
This time the guard spoke up, chuckling. "Because he only comes in and out through the back door."
She looked at Sancho. "Doesn't that mean you have to jump the fence?"
They all laughed at that. "She's funny, foo. Can we keep her?"
"Handle, she's married. She's only here for one day unless she wants to come back." Mr. Rob clarified, "go sit between them, guera."
She did as she was told. Her nerves started to really affect her now and her teeth started to chatter as if she was cold. A reassuring hand started to caress her back and another caressed her thigh from the other side.
"Don't be scared, mamacita. We'll treat you right." Sancho winked at her as he rubbed her thigh. It felt nice, but she was still a little worried.
"Alright, guera. Based on what you said in your email, I wrote you a little script. Look at the big screen and start reading when I tell you. You have to be natural though."
"Okay." Too nervous to move, she sat there stiffly with her hands on her lap. The words on the prompter came up:
Hey Freddie!
My hubby.
Oh yeah, this was for Freddie! She needed to do better with how she read it. But she also wanted to make an adjustment.
"Uh--Mr. Rob...?"
He paused the script. "What's up, guera?"
"Can you change it to 'my soldier?'" She asked, thinking about Freddie--about making his fantasies come true--and her confidence grew.
"Your soldier?" Rob smirked, "why soldier?"
"He used to be in the military. He loves when I call him that. It makes him feel powerful, like he's still the weapon that the military molded him into. And he's also a cuck destroyer."
Trespatas, the security, tried not to laugh. Sancho and Handle each looked away for a moment, trying to keep their smiles down. Mr. Rob was a professional though, so he changed it. After a couple of minutes, he started the script again--giving her a thumbs-up:
Hey Freddie!
My soulmate, my little cuck, my Matador and soldier.
Amy's eyes gleamed with mischief and she smiled--getting into character. She continued.
I'm about to make your biggest fantasy come true. You always talk shit about cucks, because you secretly are one. So now I'm going to make you the biggest cuck of all. The Alpha of the Cucks.
It took me a little bit of work to understand why you wanted this, but once I did. It's been such a ride.
Sancho and Handle started to slowly undress her, starting with her loose buttoned up blouse.
I hope you enjoy as these eses strip me and then fuck me.
They are going to treat me like the whore wives in your stories.
This is all for you, my soldier, my big bad Matador slaying all the bulls and destroying all the cucks.
But these holes are for the homies.
When the script ended, the screen began to show what the camera was recording. Amy could see herself--she looked like a slut as the two latino thugs kissed her neck and fondled her. They already had her blouse open--showing her tits sitting pretty in her see through bra. The camera zoomed in for a moment on her pink nipples through the sheer cups and Mr. Rob spoke.
"Fuck, Freddie. You sure you want us to breed your heina? She's bad as fuck, homie. Soon you're going to have little eses running around your house, foo." The camera zoomed back out to reveal Amy's face.
She had her eyes closed and her mouth formed an oooh as Sancho continued to kiss her neck and Handle licked her ear. They pulled her blouse off of her. Rob looked over at Trespatas and saw the big man adjust himself.
Rob picked up the handheld and turned it on, bringing one of the smaller screens to life. He pointed it at Trespatas.
"You excited to try her out, TP?" Behind the camera, Rob's smile grew.
Trespatas was the final boss of cock. Even the famed Girthmaster would be jealous. "This little guera mamacita won't be able to walk for a week." TP started to undress.
"Look at the screen, guera, this is what you are going to build up to." Amy's eyes fluttered open, Rob's voice bringing her out of her stupor. She looked at the smaller screen and her eyes went wide. What she was seeing wasn't possible if she were to believe Freddie's prior words to her about penis sizes. The monster on the screen looked thicker than her own forearm. She whipped her head to look at TP, who was now stroking his cock as he watched his homies prime his mare-to-be.
"This is for Freddie." Amy whispered to herself, gulping. But she couldn't deny the excitement she felt in her vagina. She looked down at her ruffle skirt as the two eses stood up. They pulled the petite, busty wife to her feet. Rob handed the handheld camera to TP and went to get supplies.
Sancho leaned down to whisper into Amy's ear. "Just relax, heina. Let us worry about everything. Just be there looking all sexy and shit."
They pulled her skirt down to reveal the bottoms of her lingerie set. The crotch was sheer like the cups were, with a flower over the clit. She had shaved just for this gift to Freddie. They turned her around to reveal her butt.
"That's what I love to see. You ever have anyone in your ass, heina?" Sancho grabbed a handful of cheek.
"No! Freddie said that's disgusting and dirty. He doesn't even let me do more than missionary or go down on him. He had told me he wanted to keep me pure before I discovered his fetish."
"Damn heina, your hubby is all cuck for real. Well, today is the day we break that ass in." He bent her over and she put her hands on the backrest of the couch. The sensation was so odd, so new to her as Handle pulled her cheeks to the side and Sancho dragged his fingers roughly from her vagina to her asshole, then pressed the fabric of her thong into her--making her jump a little. Her beebily boobillies bobbling.
Rob walked in at that moment.
"Oooh just in time." Rob set the box of supplies down, "take her panties off and have her kneel against the couch. TP, get guera's face on the handheld. Let her hold your verga for comfort, foo." He chuckled.
The others did as they were told.
Amy felt so exposed, so many hands on her at the same time. Her thighs were being caressed, her head was being pushed into the top of the couch, her panties were taken off and then she felt the breeze from the AC practically licking her. She was so wet her entire crotch area felt cold all of the sudden. She looked back to see Sancho's face right behind her.
They locked eyes for a moment before Sancho winked at her, then he closed the distance between his face and the cleft of her ass, bringing his lips to her anus. Amy shuddered--his lips were so soft, it felt nice. Then every couple of seconds Sancho's thin mustache tickled above her anus and his goatee brushed against her labia.
"Look in front of you, heina." TP told her.
"Oh okay!" She tried to sound as peppy as usual while her eyes rolled at the feeling at her asshole.
The first thing she saw was the handheld camera. But underneath it, at eye level, was the monster she was dreading but all too excited for.
"We need to get the reaction on your pretty face. So look at the camera." TP smiled. He could see how much effort it took for Amy's awestruck gaze to travel up to the camera in his hands.
"If it helps, you can hold it."
"It can help?" Amy was confused as to how it would help, but she licked her lips and reached for it. "Wow!" She squealed as she felt its weight, its heat on her small hand.
"How much bigger is it than your cuck's?"
Amy giggled. "So much big--" She gasped as she felt wet lapping at her anus. She almost looked back, but she remembered TP's words. Her eyes went wide as the tongue started to explore inside of her. It was a soft, scraping sensation. She couldn't decide if she liked it or not.
"Oooh." She cooed as a small shiver started in her core and ran up her spine. The tongue disappeared but it was replaced by a cool, lathering wetness poured just above her anus. It travelled over her virgin backdoor and down to her vagina.
Using his finger, Sancho started to push the lube into her asshole. She went stiff at the sudden intrusion, the girth of his fingers making her anus contract and her own grip on TP's mammoth cock tighten.
"Ey chill out, heina. Try stroking it instead. Look at the camera." TP started to hump her dainty hand.
"Oh that--I don't know about that one boys... it's--OOH--two's too much!" She looked back, but TP's hand shot into her hair--holding the thick, blonde locks in place--forcing her to stare at the camera.
"Eyes up here, heina." He repeated.
Her eyes watered slightly, but she nodded her head and tried to smile through the light pain. Resuming her stroking of TP's cock, she pulled him closer. "This is all for Freddie." She reassured herself.
"Damn foo, this heina's ass is tight as fuck. This is going to be the best ass since I took my ex's ass for the first time." He grabbed the butt plug from the box of supplies Rob had brought in and spit on it. The cold metal made Amy shiver. She grunted as it was pushed in. At first, she resisted it, clenching her ass tightly. But with a strong spank from Handle, she stopped.
"Ouch!" But she didn't protest further.
It slipped in and Amy winced. But as soon as the pain had come, it was gone. She just felt... full.
"Orale, heina, that pretty starfish is going to look so sexy with my hot rod in it." Sancho chuckled.
"Just keep that in until we take it out." Rob directed.
"Okay!" She looked up at TP and smiled. She pulled him to her mouth and opened wide. She wasn't sure how she was even going to get the head in. But like magic, she did. Though it was more like sucking at the end of a popsicle.
"No, yeah! Just like that puta."
She swirled her tongue around his head and felt another cock behind her positioned at her snatch. She looked back to see Handle lining up with her slick folds. It was still a wonder to her how big these cocks were when Freddie had told her it wasn't possible. The wonder stayed on her face as Handle shoved his cock into her hole without any preparation.
"Oh SHIT!" She yelled.
Amy had always begged Freddie to let her buy a dildo so that she could play with herself while she put his penis in her mouth. Despite getting hard, Freddie would go into a rage saying how on Prouder With Chowder, the host called all the men who let their wives have sex toys betas.
God, what was his name? Steve, Estebon? She tried to remember the failed comedian turned podcaster's name while she tried not to scream as Handle ground his meat sword into her velvet sheath. His enormous turgid spear was making her mind mush.
"Oh fuck! I can't handle your huge lovemeat!" He kept hitting her cervix, the enormous head threatening to break into her womb to fertilize it with his swimming eses. "Oh fuck you're too big! You're in my guts!"
"Just wait until I mold you around my cock, heina. Put it back in your mouth." TP cupped her cheek gently and brought her back to his enormous monster. She struggled to take him in, but TP wanted to see it in her throat.
"Alright, I think she's ready." Sancho pulled the butt plug out of her ass and she came.
"Oh fu--!" Her eyes went cross eyed as TP pushed his cock into her face hole.
"Foo, let's make her first anal also her first triple?"
She pulled the cock out of her mouth, "triple?"
"Don't worry about it, guera. Let Handle sit under you."
Amy did as she was told. Handle pulled the busty, naive housewife onto his massive schlong and filled her up. " Oh my god! That latino penis feels so good." She came as he bottomed out.
"Heina, that's a cock. Penis is what you call your hubby's little peepee. Feel me?" Handle thrust up into her.
"Oh fuck, I feel you, Handle!"
Looking down, she could see the shape of his rock hard spear rippling under her flat tummy as he lightly thrust. TP came up in front of Amy's face and slapped her softly with his girthy sausage. She opened her mouth happily and let TP push himself as deep as he could. Rob was doing his best to capture the best moments.
"You're going to feel a pressure on your asshole, guera. Just keep sucking that verga." He warned. Sancho placed his massive tool at the entrance of her forbidden starfish and pushed.
"MMMM!" Amy groaned around TP's cock.
"Here it comes, heina!" Sancho's tip went through her ring and he slowly drove it forward. Her muffled scream nearly made TP cum inside her mouth.
When Sancho finally bottomed out, Amy creamed on Handle's cock. Her hands were shaking and her toes were tense. TP's camera caught the moment her eyes rolled back, drool running down her chin.
When she came down, she pulled TP's broadsword out of her upper lips. "I think I just died and went to heaven." She squeaked out.
"Well it ain't over yet." Sancho grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled back. Together, he and handle started to fuck her. Amy didn't know what to do as both sensations in her love tunnels overwhelmed her. Her gazongas kept shaking in her bra, but Handle was too busy making her his sex toy, slamming up into her.
"AHHH FUCK! OHH MY GOD! FUUUUUUUUCCCKKK" Amy came all over their cocks. She had never squirted in her life, but she did now as they plugged her up.
"TP, shove that giant beanstalk back in her mouth." Rob laughed.
"OH I AM NEVER GOING BACK TO SMA--" TP shoved his cock halfway in--shutting her up.
They were all impressed with how easy she had made that look. Her tiny mouth was like a bag of holding--holding massive peen.
"Fuck ese, I can't take this no mores. Her guera ass is so good."
"On three, foos!"
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
The three hole homies erupted inside of her. Her mouth, pussy, and ass filled with cum. She came--hard... again. She swallowed the gallons of cum from TP, was fertilized by Handle as his cum passed through her cervix by osmosis, and her lower intestines were filled with cum.
She fell slack, between them. Completely fulfilled.
"My turn." Rob said.
He grabbed the exhausted and groggy housewife by her hair and bent her over in front of the main camera with her face and still bra-clad canyons front and center. Those massive tits hadn't gotten much use yet, but Rob would change that.
He pushed his cock into her asshole without any warning and Amy squealed. Despite the bucket of cum Sancho had deposited, it was still a tight fit for Rob.
"TP! Come with the handheld!" TP hurried over, his spent mammoth cock swinging powerfully as he walked.
Rob directed his attention to Amy. "Guera, tell hubby, your soldier, how good this cock feels."
"Oh honey, my soldier. This feels so good. I know you said it was so dirty and gross but fuck it's so good."
"What kind of girls did he say get fucked in the ass."
"Oh fuck! He said only dirty whores get fucked in the ass. Only dirty whores put cocks in their mouths."
"What does that make you, guera?"
"Oh my god! A dirty whore."
"Say it again, louder!"
"Ooooo I'm a dirty whore!"
"Whose dick is in your ass right now?"
"Yours, Mr. Rob! Of fuck it's yours!"
"Does Freddie get to use your ass? Or your mouth?"
"No! Those holes aren't for him!"
"Why is that, guera?"
"Oh Mr. Rob, you're going to break my ass!"
"Why is that, GUERA?!"
"OH PLEASE DADDY! DON'T MAKE ME SAY IT!"
"I want to hear you say it, guera!"
"THESE HOLES ARE FOR THE HOMIES!" They came together, at the exact same time, hard--Rob's love shotgun coating her insides like a Jack's Impala painting.
Amy cried out--wailing as she spasmed and fell forward. Rob was still cumming as he followed her down, grinding his cock into her.
With a satisfied grunt, Rob pulled his cock out of Amy's ass and it made a wet, popping sound. She gasped at the sudden emptiness and her stomach contracted. Rob grabbed the handheld from TP and brought it up to Amy's cum covered face. Then to her gaped asshole with cum dripping out. He grabbed the biggest butt plug he could find and shoved it in.
"Make your cuck destroyer eat the cum out of your ass when you get home." They all laughed.
"In case you ever consent to letting us release this for our audience, do you have anything to say to them? Something for all of those closeted cucks. You know, the ones who will be leaving angry comments on the video or the anons who mostly just watch but still judge?"
Amy smiled wide.
"Hi my cucks. I hope you enjoyed watching me and imagining your wives in my place! I know you're watching this from the protection of your online accounts just like Freddie does. I bet you looked so pathetic typing 'this is fucking disgusting', with one hand." She giggled and continued, "I bet you want me to go to hell as you clean up your little, impotent cum off your ugly little penis. If you ever decide to not be scared, maybe you can finally tell your wife the truth, that you want to see them dominated by real men. Make sure to leave a comment on the next video the exact same way if you're a little pathetic cuck boy."
"Perfect, guera. Just perfect. Are you sure you don't want to come back for more?"
"Maybe, but we don't need to include all the cucks next time. Actually, why wait? Let's do round two now! But this time my body is only for real men to see." Amy smiled and reached for TP's cock as the video ended.
...
Freddie sat in the rarely used bathroom at his work while on lunch break, wiping his mighty load off of his alpha cock with two squares of TP while typing out a comment slowly with his other hand.
"Totally unrealistic. You're trying to tell me that the husband's reaction when he found out his whore wife was fucking someone was to sit and watch?!? No man would do that in real life. If I saw something like that, both of them would get what they deserved, mark my words. All of you degenerate cucks are so brainrotted you don't even realize how fucked up you are."
And, just as he hit send, he got a text message from his wife. That was odd... normally she didn't contact him at work. She knew that he preferred to be on the grind without distraction from females during work hours. He read the text with his face scrunched up into a confused scowl.
Hey soldier, there is a little surprise that I have been working on for you. You know that I only want to make you happy. Well, don't be mad, but I found your internet history. I found out how much cuckolding turns you on, and I knew you would never be able to admit that to me, so I took matters into my own hands. I hope you enjoy the video. Love, Amy.
A video link followed, and Freddie immediately clicked on it. His mind shorted out like an overloaded fuse as the video played, showing Amy and three big, dangerous looking men. After a moment, Freddie shot up, his face white and his cock standing tall at it's full four inches once again. Without a word he walked straight out of the office building and out to his car, the video continuing to play, held in his numb fingers. The wet, sloppy audio, punctuated by moans and occasional dirty talk, played over his bluetooth on the way home. His hands were shaking on the wheel, his eyes hazy and unfocused, his cock a throbbing spike in his pants, his mind turned off completely. He was lucky that he didn't crash the car on the way.
When he got home he parked in a sloppy diagonal in the driveway and burst in the front door. He wasn't even sure what his goal was at that point, his mind still was failing to process what he had just seen in the video his wife had sent him. He just knew he had to see Amy.
He somehow knew instinctively where she would be. Freddie thundered up the stairs and burst into the bedroom to see yet another sight that made no sense to him.
His wife Amy was on the bed, sweaty, naked, moaning... and being fucked from behind with energetic, flesh-slapping vigor by their paunchy, 50-year-old neighbor, Doug.
"C... Cliche," stuttered Freddie in a stunned voice, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. This had to be some sort of joke... or prank or something. He was an alpha. He had complete control over his wife. This sort of thing could never, ever happen to him. His cock released in his pants, filling his tighty-whities with arm goo as he stared slaw-jawed at his ugly neighbor plowing his wife, making her massive tits sway beneath her.
"Surprise, my sweet soldier!" said Amy with a huge grin. She had almost hoped that Freddie would be so excited he would rush home. That's why she had invited Doug over. She had learned in her research that a lot of cucks found the pleasure a lot more intense and compelling when they disliked the bull, so their asshole neighbor had been the perfect fit. Freddie was always whining about how Doug was a jerk, so who could be better?
And as an added bonus, it turned out that Doug had a huge cock... one that was currently working its way toward bringing her to her third orgasm of the day as it impaled her from behind, making Doug's hard hairy gut slap against her luscious ass from behind.
But something was wrong. Freddie wasn't reacting with the grateful joy she had been expecting. In fact, his expression sort of looked like shocked horror. Which made no sense at all. She had seen his internet history. Someone would have to be the most pathetic, miserable person in the world to read hundreds of stories in a genre they didn't even enjoy. But, based on Freddie's expression, it looked like that had to be the case.
There was just one problem: Amy didn't want to stop. Maybe this had started as a way to make her husband happy, but the huge cocks of all the various bulls she had found had given her pleasure that she wasn't sure Freddie ever would. A good wife might tell Doug to stop thrusting deep and hard into her pussy from behind... but where had being a good wife ever got her? A misogynistic husband who cared more about reading porn stories he didn't even like than fucking his wife? And so she slammed her ample hips back into the cock Freddie would never be able to match, thinking of what she could say to explain this to Freddie... But not thinking all that hard.
Freddie's mind dreamily suggested that maybe this was the situation he had always been preparing for. He had written thousands of words about what he would do in this exact situation. He should... he should defend his honor, right? The only problem was that, now that he was in this situation, with his wife moaning and biting the sheets in front of him, his pants flooded with warm cum, and Doug sneering down, things felt a little more complicated. Doug was a lot bigger than him. That was the problem. Teaching his jerk of a neighbor a lesson suddenly felt unappealing.
"Ha! And here is the cuck himself!" chuckled Doug, never letting up with his powerful thrusts into Freddie's wife. "Me and your wife had a good laugh about your pathetic little fetish. Don't worry bud, I'm happy to lend a hand if you get off on other dude's making up for your tiny dick. Take a seat, cuck. Enjoy."
"Cuck?" said Freddie in a strangled voice. He wasn't a fucking cuck! He wasn't anything like those degenerates! He was an alpha! A real man who would never allow cuck shit to happen to him! He felt like he was about to cry... Hot manly tears of rage, obviously.
"Soldier, come here..." said Amy, panting and gesturing him closer. Freddie wasn't sure he liked the idea of getting close to the sweaty, fucking pair, but he was so confused in the moment that he did sort of want to hear what his wife had to say.
When he got close enough, Amy grabbed his hand, staring up into his eyes with a face flushed with lust and eyes hazy with pleasure. "Freddie... mmmmhhh, It's ok. Enjoying things like this doesn't mean you aren't a man! In fact, in a way, letting me fuck other man is brave!"
Freddie stared at her, his mind working a mile a minute. For a second, what she was saying didn't make any sense at all, clashing completely with his worldview. But for a man who trashed cuckold stories on a daily basis after jerking off to them, no mental gymnastics were too difficult.
"You're saying..." said Freddie slowly, with a grin spreading across his face, "That the real alpha move is to not even give a shit that other guys have sex with you!"
Amy stared at him in bewilderment for a moment, then rolled her eyes and said, "That's exactly right, honey," as Doug held back a snicker behind her.
"In fact!" said Freddie excitedly, "I'll be proving my superiority, because we'll both see that no other man can measure up to my prowess."
"Uh-huh, sounds good, cuck," said Doug dismissively. "Now sit down in the cuck chair and shut the fuck up, you're throwing off my rhythm."
"I just said that I'm not a..." said Freddie shrilly, but Amy interrupted him.
"Do what he says, cuck," she moaned, dropping her husband's hand to put her hand on the bed and get more traction. "Go to the corner and... uhhh... show us your prowess, I guess."
Freddie huffed a little and he took his seat in the corner. They didn't get it yet, but he was excited by his new discovery. He had just discovered the perfect opportunity to fight back against the degeneracy of cuckolding in a new, exciting way.
Maybe by the technical definition, he was a cuckold, but he would show them all. He wasn't just any cuck...
...
Most people assume I'm a cuck, they're wrong. I'm an alpha cuck. My high school sweetheart, now wife, Amy, was an absolute knockout, she had unbelievable EEE cup tits, and was a curvy goddess with thighs for days. We live in married bliss, in a home in an ambiguous location, while I work at my ambiguous job, where I make good money of course.
When Amy discovered my collection of cuck porn and erotica, it wasn't easy to explain. She didn't understand, at first. But of course, she acquiesced, as any good wife would. She assured me that anytime she found a bull, it was merely to confirm my alpha status, which of course made sense, because I knew she was loyal to me, and only me. I didn't have to worry.
I had a vendetta against cucks, and with good reason. It was beta behavior. As someone who was confident in my marriage, to the most loyal woman on the planet, I knew that by actually sharing her I could put even more cucks and betas in their place.
Does my logic sound off? Maybe. But it clearly shows you're not on the same level of alpha intellect as me. After all, the cuck stories I read were research for how to better understand the cuck mindset, so I could destroy it even more. Know thine enemy after all.
Every time she found a new bull, which seemed awfully frequent, I remembered to go to Literotica, and find the first LW story I could. I didn't read it. Any of it. Not even the first word. I ignored the tags. I just dropped a one star review, posted a comment, sent some death threats to authors, which is a perfectly rational thing to do, another day, another cuck enabler laid to waste. Too easy.
I decided to tell my best friend online, a fellow cuck assassin named "62SC", about Amy and I's new lifestyle. He said that I was "in denial of being a cuck", "delusional" and a "beta cuck bitch" which was absurd. I mean, how could that possibly be?
As our experiment continued with friends, neighbors, coworkers, mysterious ugly bastards, priests, police officers, bikers, and more, I knew Amy wasn't enjoying this. She assured me she hated it, which of course, why would she ever lie about that? She's my wife after all. I mean yeah a couple of times she said it was "fun", but only because I could watch and judge their poor performances.
Amy seemed unusually excited for tonight, she said she was "Nervous, because I actually knew the bull she chose." It was my old boss, Dominic or "Dom" as he preferred. Single, of course, a pathetic man.
Last year Dom tried hitting on Amy at our company's last Christmas party. She disappeared for around thirty minutes, so did he. I couldn't believe that an "alpha" like him needed a woman to change his tire. Amy said her jaw hurt the rest of the night. I told her it was from all the nuts she ate at the party, of course I was right.
Dom was tall, chiseled from stone, with deep mahogany skin, with rough stubble set on a square jaw. It was obvious this was a man who was deeply insecure. If you're that dedicated to working out to be in peak physical perfection at the age of fifty, well, let's just say you might be a cuck to your own insecurities.
He was an ex NFL quarterback and also a former Navy Seal, which while many believe was some indicator of an elite military pedigree, it wasn't that impressive. I could have easily been a Seal, I just didn't feel like it. Dom towered over me, sure I may be only 4'8 but that didn't matter, I had brains, not brawn.
Dom stopped by later that night, Amy welcomed him in, she suggested wearing her marital lingerie, just to take this bull down a peg, after all that lingerie symbolized her loyalty to me. I was always stunned by her cunning. That way he would know she was mine.
I could sense his jealousy, typical beta behavior. She wasn't wearing her wedding ring, it was a clever ploy on her part, granted she hadn't asked me about this, but I knew it was to tempt these pathetic bulls into thinking they could have her.
He ignored me, which I knew to be deference to my status, he knew that I was the one who ruled here, this was my domain, I was the king, he was a peon comparatively.
He watched Amy climb the staircase, Amy's voluptuous ass highlighted by her black thong, and gorgeous matching silk stockings, it was perfect, an amazing sight that Dom could barely appreciate. They were going to our bedroom. Recently our marital bed had been the space of many encounters, where many bulls met the end of their dignity by my presence, sometimes my mouth.
Dom wasted no time as Amy stripped seductively, her enormous HHH tits fell out, perfect and natural, with tiny pink nipples that were harder than diamonds, which I attributed to the air conditioning, and not from arousal.
I looked at Dom's cock, out of curiosity of course, it was as thick as a beer can, maybe fourteen inches, too big to use, completely useless. I felt bad for him, he didn't have a dainty, efficient cock like me. Amy assured me that the "acorn glued to my crotch was more than enough". In fact, I knew he envied me, it was obvious as he saw my chubby fist wrap around my manhood and he laughed, it was from his own nerves I was sure.
I thought it was odd she was kissing him, passionately, she hadn't kissed a lot of bulls, but she was lavishing his full rich lips with hers, their tongues intertwined, his hands roaming across her massive tits and eight inch waist, cupping her gargantuan perfect ass cheeks.
Now you may be wondering, why was I jacking off during this? Simple. A show of dominance. Amy was always impressed by this, so much so that she said we shouldn't have sex anymore, which when she explained it, made sense.
Once, maybe twice I thought I might have enjoyed this idea, but I realized quickly it was only because I owned her thoroughly as an alpha and I was enjoying seeing these bulls... I mean I enjoyed seeing them try to claim her. Pathetic.
I wasn't impressed with Dom's advances, his freakish masterful, gorgeous, sumptuous cock could barely fit in her mouth, sure I saw her work hard to take all of it, down to his hilt, a bulge appearing in her throat, but I could tell that it was merely an act, I saw Dom look over his shoulder and smile at me as he spoke.
"How does this look bitch boy? Your wife sucking my cock?"
I didn't answer of course, I wasn't going to fall for a beta's bait. Real alphas are lone wolves, he takes orders from me.
When Amy's supple lips popped off his cock she looked at me, her massive tits covered in drool, her thighs and slit drenched with excitement. She really knew how to convince these poor fools they had an effect on her. I thought I saw her mouth the word "cuck" at me, but I think she meant Dom.
Dom stood Amy up and bent her over the bed, so she faced me in my chair, her cerulean blue eyes locked with mine. Dom spoke as he slammed into her perfect pussy.
"Take a look, cuck, as I rearrange your wife's guts."
Dom was fucking her hard. I watched Amy's stunning tits sweep across the comforter, amazed that all of Dom's cock with its broad, flared, delicious cockhead had thrust into her all the way to his hilt, it was impressive purely as a specimen. Nothing more. I heard Amy make sounds she had never made before, as Dom's hand slapped her ass with a loud crack, leaving an enormous handprint on her flawless, huge, shapely, perfect ass.
Her brow was full of sweat, toes clenched as he continuously pounded her like a cheap alley slut, how clumsy and oafish, sure, his cock was covered in a sheen of pearlescent cream, but I'm sure Amy was using lube, no way her body was responding to that monstrous appendage. Comical at best.
Was I impressed watching Amy fake massive sequential orgasms? Well of course, I knew they had to be fake. She would never cum on another man's cock, that was reserved for when we made sweet love, sure I heard Amy say to her friends during girl's night that I was a "two pump chump" but I'm sure she was talking about someone else.
Dom threw Amy off the bed and she fell to her knees in front of me, her gargantuan tits pressed together, as Dom used both hands to bring himself to his orgasm, I watched his rippling abs, and looked at his chiseled face, ha, I was better looking I could tell.
Dom roared like a demon, spraying Amy down with a torrent of cum, from head to navel a shower of jizz, several ribbons of his thick, viscous cum hit me in the knee and chest, wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last. I chuckled. Amy rubbed Dom's cum all over her body, moaning as she scooped some of it into her pussy. Unusual. But an interesting technique.
Dom grinned and looked at me as he spoke, forcing Amy to clean his cock.
"Hey sissy cuck, get me a beer and get your ass back up here and get me hard again."
Amy giggled, obviously enjoying Dom's lack of pride. I smirked, knowing I had defeated another cuck loser. I went downstairs and grabbed a beer, bringing it back up to him.
"Here's your beer, sir." I said as I winked ironically towards Amy.
He cracked it open and gestured with his horse cock to me. Amy nodded and spoke in a babyish voice.
"Go on sweetie, there's nothing straighter and more alpha than getting a bull hard again to fuck your wife."
She was right. Time to shine as an alpha. I hadn't paid 18K for an Alpha bootcamp to go take ice baths with other men, roll around on the beach with each other and smother ourselves with sand for no reason, while another powerful, dominant man screams at us. Challenge accepted, time to destroy another cuck.
I didn't enjoy this of course, I felt my cock hardening but it was from looking at my beautiful, eternally loyal wife Amy. It wasn't from sucking the head of my former boss's cock, no way, I mean, besides I was the one dominating him. What a loser. I could tell Amy was proud when she started cackling and her massive tits jiggled as her and Dominic laughed. She took plenty of pictures, of course, to use against Dominic if he ever tried to step out of line. Pretty brilliant, I'm a lucky man. She assured me that they weren't going to upload them to any amateur sites. That's a given of course.
I came, only because of looking at my wife of course, a single sperm. It was an alpha sperm, so that's really all one needs to get the job done. Dom pointed and laughed at me, I knew it was out of jealousy of course. Amy was kind enough to force my head down, a little rough, but that way I could dominate Dom even more. Amy helped me stand and spoke so sweetly, it was a symphony to my ears.
"Frankie, I need some more time with Dom, just to kind of really help him know who's in charge ok?"
I nodded and left.
Nearby I heard the sounds of Amy's rapture in our bedroom as Dom continued to pound her, it was loud, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh rapidly, I could tell it was another classic Amy performance, sure I found I it strange that she didn't want to let me watch, and I heard her scream in ecstasy "PLEASE PUT A BABY IN ME DOM!"
But I knew it was just bedroom talk, teasing that loser, sure I saw some pills in the trash this morning, but I was sure they were some old painkillers, no way they were Amy's birth control. I chuckled to myself, scrolling through my collection of cuck porn, shaking my head in dismissal of those poor fools, dropping more one star reviews on Literotica, smiting those sickos.
One thing was for certain, I was as far as possible from these drooling morons. I was the alpha, they were the cucks. As I began commenting on a new Loving Wives story, I heard whispers outside the door, the loser Dom leaving already, I heard Amy say, "I want to run away with you, I've never felt so alive, you're a god compared to that small dicked loser. I'm yours. All of me." Ha, she knew how to lay it on thick. I heard the front door open, and close soon after.
I didn't hear Amy come back up the stairs, she must have gone to prepare a feast for my victory over Dom. She texted me later asking me to head to the shed, because she had a lot of other bulls coming by she had to "teach a lesson". Amy, always loyal, never missed a chance to let those losers know who was in charge, which was me of course.
I kind of wanted to watch, just to see the looks on their faces when they had to realize I was in control. I mean there wouldn't be any other reason I'd want to watch of course. After all, I'm not a cuck. No way. Even the mere idea of it, I was getting pissed.
The next morning, Amy wrote me a poem, which I thought was beautiful. Not only was she gorgeous, smart, with huge tits and loyal, but she was a poet as well. I read it on a sticky note, which was oddly damp, pungent, and looked like it had glue on it. It read:
"Roses are red, violets are blue
I am loyal only to you
Dom is a huge cock machine
Soon you'll be tasting his cream"
So creative. Not sure what it meant, was really never much of a writerly type. I poured my creamer in my coffee that morning, it tasted odd, salty, more bitter than usual. I noticed the potato salad that night also tasted strange, but I figured it was because Amy wasn't the best cook, I mean you can't have it all, even though she came close.
Dom came to stay over that week, in our bedroom, and slept next to Amy, while I slept in the garage in a dog bed. Amy assured me it was to make sure Dom wasn't intimidated by my energy. It made sense.
The next day I saw her wedding ring in a jar of creamy fluid on the dining room table. She told me it was a "ring cleaner" it looked gooey and thick, but what would I know about that kind of stuff anyways? As the week went on the jar seemed to get fuller, she told me she was trying to "deep clean the ring as a symbol of our union, so it would always remain pure". That was Amy, always thoughtful, so lucky to have her.
After Dom left, Amy said she was going to look for more bulls. I encouraged her, because of course I only wanted to solidify my alpha mindset. It was strange when she told me later that Dom was moving in, but again, she made it make sense.
I left my comment on the newest LW story:
"Pathetic wimpy sissy cuck shit, a real man wouldn't stand for this, I'd burn the the house down with Mr. Big dick and that skank in it, they could both rot in hell together, haha buncha losers, get help"
and settled into my bed in the shed I made in the backyard. It felt good to be the king, the alpha cuck.
...
Chardonnay was always my first choice when it came to a tasty treat, especially as I took a seat in one of my finer furnishings. Some Wagner simmering in my ears, a warm, cushy bathrobe to keep my fine behind perfectly comfortable. It was a fine evening.
I was tinkering with my latest piece. Adding the final touches, adding the xtra little flair that would give my work just the right amount of depth and value that only skillfully hand-made handiwork could produce. Finer things in life should be produced only with finer things in mind, not churned out in a factory where they could be cranked out by some peasant that had no real understanding for craftsmanship.
Taking a small sip from my glass, I reached for my keyboard, carefully so as not to touch the keys before it was time to strike.
Ah.
There it was!
"Bro, what kind of sick fuck would like their wifes to fuck another guy? Straight to the oven! I surved in the meleetary for 8 months and id put a bullet through this 'writer's' brain without hesitashon or asking any questions. For real,"
I wrote, adding to the rest of the symphony of comments I'd left on all this and other writer's stories. It didn't matter that I never served in the military, the sentiment was there to put this cuck writer in his place.
Ah, the justice!
"Hah!" I said triumphantly.
The very same moment the final H of my exclamation fell from my mouth, a loud feminine groan emanated from outside the walk-in closet. I heaved myself from the soda crate I sat on and meandered my way over to the sliding doors, squelching and curses becoming ever more evident as I closed in.
Opening the doors, I was met with the shiny, downright wet butt cheeks of my wife's bull bouncing up and down between my Amy's delicate thighs in the middle of my bed.
"Guys, mind keeping it down a notch?" I asked as I rounded the bed and met them at head level. "Wait, this isn't Dominic?" I mused, studying this utterly pathetic performance from this man. He was clearly overcompensating for some underlying insecurities.
And the man himself, hah! Such big heaving muscle roaming his back only meant one thing; another proof of this guy's terrible self-esteem. Sure, I'm not even breaching five feet, but who was the one married to this woman? This alpha right here, me, and nobody else. It was actually charity letting this bumpkin rearrange my wife's guts to his heart's content, knowing full well that his performance was just utter shit. Size doesn't matter, and I was the proof of that.
And that chiseled jaw? Hah! He looked like a brick more than an actual person.
"GAH!" Amy grunted.
"Grant?" I asked. Amy wasn't able to talk coherently. Maybe her cardio was getting worse.
"Who-- ugh-- the fuck are you?" the man asked, confused.
"I'm Freddie. This is my wife," I said.
"Is that right?" the man said. I squinted toward him. Utter imbecile, having to have information fed to him by the smallest of spoons. "You're out of beer, by the way."
I rolled my eyes. Of course.
"Anyway, keep it down," I said. A real man would know to respect a man's house and not exaggerate his performance and disturb said man in his own closet.
The two didn't say anything, instead focusing on the task at hand, both of them making noises like a pair of wild animals. I closed the doors and turned around.
My heart was pumping so fast it was about to burst!
I felt the blood rush in my veins, my hands shaking, my ears pounding with the rhythm of my heart, my chest tightening. My heart felt like it was going to explode.
I was experiencing withdrawals.
I hurried to the computer and thank fuck, the 78th part of 'Fuck Thy Neighbor' was out. It was a degenerate story about a blonde named Jen who was getting railed by the neighborhood.
With shaking hands, I double-fisted my cock, and with perfect technique, I came within two strokes. Efficiency, that was my middle name! My mom always told me I was good and efficient!
"GAHOYA!" came from the bedroom. From who? It was hard to tell. I chuckled. Pathetic. Alpha's are stoic and quiet, we don't need audible confirmation. I tipped my invisible fedora, swept my butt across the crate, and sat down.
With a loud crack of my fingers, I went to work. Sure, 'Fuck Thy Neighbor' was exquisite when it came to the sex scenes, and it was masterfully written, but it was still a lowlife cuck story. It needed to be eradicated through verbal abuse. That was, after all, the only remedy. If we were to overcome this epidemic of beta cucks, we had to tell them by any means necessary why they should never have been born, and that there is a special place in hell for them.
That's when I noticed something odd about my emails. Instead of the regular sea of people telling me to chill out, that these stories are just that, stories, and so on, I saw that I got a direct reply from one of the writers I scolded. In fact, it was Arctic420, who was the writer of 'Fuck Thy Neighbor'.
"Hey there, Cuckdestroyer37. I'm tired of your bullshit. From your comments, I can tell you live a miserable life. I can also tell that you are married. I feel bad for your wife, so here's what I'm gonna do. I'm heading over to your place and then I'll fuck your wife. Then I'll fuck your mom too."
"BWAHAHAHA!" I reeled back and laughed my nuts off. What an utterly pathetic representation of the human species! Fuck my wife? Hah! The only people who fucked my wife were pitiful souls who didn't know anything about rearranging guts.
I wiped tears from my eyes as I rose, giving my knee a good ol slapperoonie, then headed out to tell Grant and Amy how pathetic this Arctic420 was.
"Hey, Dom-- Grant! Amy!" I said through sobs. "This guy on the internet really tried to own me. Me!"
"You're, guh, still here?" Amy asked though it sounded more rhetorical. "Grant, could you get rid of him, please?"
"Sure," Grant said. He got up from between Amy's legs and stepped into the closet. "Let's go."
I looked at the man. He wasn't a tall man, but he was clearly taller than me. And he had a build. And muscles.
"Okay," I said and raised an eyebrow. "This is my house, I'm the alpha, we do as I say."
Suddenly there was a loud schlup as Grant pulled out of my wife. The amount of lube these betas needed. Whenever I laid pipe, Amy was always incredibly wet. She practically gushed white gooey liquids with a single stroke. That's how it's done.
Soon after the sound of Grant's shaft leaving my wife, a palm appeared to block my vision, then fingers curled into my scalp. And like that, I was lifted up from where I stood, hand in face, and carried over to the walk-in closet where I had my battle station.
A king gets carried to his workstation. As it should be.
"I told you I'd fuck your wife," Grant grunted, as he threw me in and slammed the door shut.
"And Gianna(my mom) is on her way over too. We're both going to take it up the ass, Freddie," Amy explained.
"Dude, don't you have a job or something?" Grant asked.
"J-Job?" I asked confused.
"He doesn't know what that is," Amy grunted.
"Ah, okay," Grant said.
I looked around as the two continued fucking, their grunting and groaning getting ever more evident. It was quite a view, watching my wife getting stuffed like a turkey. I bet he wasn't even bouncing against her cervix the right way!
Like an alpha, I was obliged to instruct this man in how to properly handle my property. I pushed myself up from the floor and made my way over to the bed, crawling to Amy's side.
"Grant, I know you don't know what it is, but you're supposed to aim for her cervix and hit it really hard. That's how you fuck my wife," I said matter of factly.
"The fuck?" Grant said, looking from my wife to me, and back to me in utter confusion. Typical beta behavior, getting all confused over the simplest things.
"Hit her cervix, it's how you do it."
"You're out of your mind," Grant said. He picked up the pace and fucked my wife harder and faster.
"Oh, god!" Amy exclaimed, clawing at Grant's back, pulling him closer.
"See? Like that," I said, pointing. "Like that, but harder. Like you're punching a hole in her gut"
"Dude, just stop," Grant said.
"Yeah, Freddie, shut the fuck up for a minute," Amy said.
"I'm pretty sure if there's one guy who knows how to do a proper job, it's the alpha. And that's me," I said, chuckling in disbelief at these two idiots. Oh, poor Amy having to put up with this nonsense. And now Grant was laughing. Completely inappropriate.
"Yeah, sure," Grant said. "Anyway, go back to your cuck closet while I dump a baby in your girl."
"Amy, this idiot-"
"FUCK OFF!" Amy cried. There was no doubt frustrated about Grant's weak performance, per her exclamation, but alas, I retreated to my dungeon.
*
After several hours of intense pounding, the noises from my bedroom ceased. Finally! I'd have my peace!
I closed my browser, having been busy looking over various forums and comments discussing the various topics of the day. It seemed like there was a lot of controversy surrounding the topic of whether or not betas should be able to vote. I had to agree, it's clear they don't know anything about politics or how to make good decisions.
And of course, I wouldn't complain if one of these days someone took a bullet to the brain of all these cuck authors. Them and their fucked up, weird fetishes, appealing to the weaklings of society, prying on their insecurities. And then there were all those other degenerates, commenting on the stories, writing the comments. They're the ones who should take a bullet.
It was good to see that people still talked sense in the world. It was also good to see that my inbox was flooded with more comments on my reviews. People calling me a 'fucking asshole' or a 'traitor to humanity', as well as several other unflattering insults. When you're telling the truth, you're bound to ruffle some feathers.
I'd just have to tip my non-existent fedora for myself and humbly don this invisible cape thingie that only men of my caliber can do and ignore these imbeciles.
A knock came from the door and it slid open.
"Hey, Freddie," Amy said. She stepped inside, wearing nothing but a small towel around her waist. Her hair was wet. She must have taken a shower.
"Hey, honey," I said. "Did the beta leave yet?"
Amy smiled. She was clearly not happy, which I didn't understand.
"About that... I think we need to go downstairs to talk for a minute. Your family is here," Amy said. "Your friends too."
"Okay. I guess I can lend you guys my ear, so to speak. I bet you guys need some real advice from a real man about something, huh," I snorted. I brushed my shoulders and stood. Amy had to help me though, as my knees were quite numb from sitting still for so long.
"Something like that," Amy mumbled. "Let's go."
We headed downstairs where the rest of my family and friends sat in the living room, chatting with each other. A few of them glanced at me as I arrived, smiling and chuckling.
"Freddie, come sit down," Dad said, waving me over. He patted the free seat on the couch beside him, then scooted a bit to the right.
"Okay, but I need to stand. I was sitting for a long time in my office and I need to let my legs breathe a little," I said.
"Of course," Dad said.
Amy sighed, as she seemed pleased that everyone that mattered was here.
"Freddie, we've gathered all your friends and family because... well this is an intervention. A cuckention, I guess you can call it. We all know you love to write mean shit on the internet, and that you see yourself as an alpha, but... well, we don't think you're an alpha, and we think you should stop trying to be one," Amy said.
"And stop calling me Grant," Grant added. He was standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, staring me down. "My name's actually-."
"And we think it's a mental health issue. I thought if I fucked everyone you knew that you'd eventually snap out of it. But, Freddie, you're not an alpha, not even close. You can't fuck, you don't know what a job is, you live in a closet or out in the shed, and you can't even remove the lid of a pickle jar. All you do all day is sit on your computer and write the most unhinged comments about fictional stories that doesn't even matter."
"Hah! Is that so? And that's your definition of not being an alpha, then?" I chuckled, amused by this. I was surprised but highly amused. "Then tell me, if I'm not an alpha, then what am I?"
"A loser," Dad said, rather promptly. "An utter fucking loser."
"A beta," Mom said.
"A beta," Dad echoed. "But not even a beta, just a beta that beta's beta's beta's beta's betas."
"A cuck," Amy said.
"A cuck," the mailman and the store clerk both said at the same time.
"A mega cuck," my five brothers said in unison.
"A closet cuck," my former math teacher said.
"First rank officer of the Cuckwaffe," everybody concluded.
"HAHAHHAHA!" I laughed. "This is great. Oh my god, you guys are hilarious! You had me for a minute there. It was great. Nice job!"
I clapped my hands and everybody started applauding, laughing, and cheering. I had to be careful, though. Even though I was in my 20s, my pacemaker was acting up a bit. I had to take it easy, so as not to stress myself out.
"Anyway," I continued. "If you all could excuse me now, I have some work to do. And when I'm done, I'll be sure to properly put Grant back in his place. I'll show you how an alpha puts it down, Amy."
"No, you won't," Amy said. She snapped her fingers and suddenly two hulking men in white nurse outfits and a straight jacked appeared seemingly out of thin air.
I grabbed for an umbrella, ready to expel the fencing capabilities I had gained while watching YouTube.
"Who dies first?!" I roared, going for a half-piroutte. My intention was to duck and roll under their arms, but during my pirouette, one of the men just slid an arm around my waist and lifted me up. The umbrella disappeared as well. And soon my arms were constrained as well.
"ALPHAAAA!" I roared as I was carried away. "ALPHAAAA!"
"Sorry, Freddie, but you're not an alpha," Amy said, then stuffed a kitchen cloth in my mouth to shut me up.
I didn't remember much after that. I was put into the back of a car between the two hulking men, and the whole ride I had to explain how they had been lifting me all wrong. They needed to lock their knees and keep their backs as straight as possible, only using the spine to lift. I think they did listen to me, but it didn't matter. Their muscles were too big. They were doomed to fail.
It was a short drive and we arrived at a hospital, and when we got there, I was strapped onto a wheelchair. I was told that this was a psychiatric hospital, and that I would be here for a very long time. I was diagnosed as a "clinical asshole" and a "Redditor", and I was to be cucked five times per day by the staff, then be put on a strict diet of nothing but humiliation.
I told them that I'd never succumb to this. That they'd never break me. No fucking quack hospital would break this top alpha!
You need to log in so that our AI can start recommending suitable works that you will definitely like.
There are no comments yet - be the first to add one!
Add new comment