Humiliated by His Wife

Note: This is a cuckolding story, like many in the Loving Wives category. If you don't like that kind of story, fine, but don't read it and then clog up the comments with your insults.

Preamble

Katie stood a couple of steps behind her boyfriend, her face cold and expressionless.

"I want you to put my husband in his place," she said to him. "I want you to make me feel nothing but contempt for him."

Adrian knelt, naked, before the two of them, dreading what was to come.

Katie's boyfriend took a step towards Adrian and began to unzip his own trousers.

"I'll master him for you," he said.

Katie smiled.

"Yes," she urged. "Master him. Master my husband in front of me."

Her boyfriend took out his penis. It was just as large as Katie had always said. He began to masturbate, pointing his cock towards Adrian's face.

"Finish me off," he said.

Katie took his cock in her cool, delicate hand and stroked it, first slowly and then quicker, until he came to a climax, spraying his semen all over Adrian's face.

And then she laughed.

"That's you," she said coldly to her husband. "That's what I think of you now. That's how I'll always think of you."

Then she turned to her boyfriend, smiled, and led him by the hand to what had once been her marital bedroom.

Turning back to Adrian, she said "You can listen at the door, if you need to."

How was it that, two years after their wedding, things had come to this?

Adrian's story

Katie was 28 when I married her, and I was some 12 years older. She was a university lecturer in mathematical physics, and I was a senior manager in a large media company. I was besotted with her and was surprised that she had agreed to marry me just a few weeks after we first met as, frankly, I knew she was out of my league both in terms of her looks and her intellect. From the moment we were married, I was scared of losing her.

For the first six months of our marriage, things seemed to be fine. We got on well and had regular sex, although she never initiated it and I had the impression that she did not much enjoy it. Then came the bombshell.

Katie arrived home late from work, seeming uneasy and nervous. She was wearing blue jeans and a white blouse, her usual kind of outfit. But something was not usual. I asked her what was wrong and she denied it for a couple of times and then began to talk.

"I'm sorry, I really don't want to hurt you but the fact is that I've been seeing someone else."

I was dumbstruck and, of course, asked her who it was, how long it had been going on and all the usual questions of a man in my circumstance. At first, she just said it didn't matter, but I persisted and she began to get annoyed. Eventually she told me that it had been going on for weeks, that I had never satisfied her sexually and, then, blushing slightly, told me that she needed a man with a big cock to satisfy her and that mine just wasn't big enough.

As she told me all this, I realised that I was getting an erection and, because I was already in my night clothes, it was obvious to Katie, too. She half-smiled, and pulled my cock from my shorts.

"So what's this?" she asked with a slight tone of mischief.

I muttered something incoherent, too ashamed to admit that I was turned on by the thought of her with another man.

She gave my penis a tug.

"You're... you're turned on, aren't you? By the thought of all those times I've had a real cock in me. Well, he isn't the first one, you know. Ever since I've known you I've had one man after another behind your back. Do you like that? Too bad if you don't -- you don't own me, you know, just because we're married."

I felt forced to ask.

"These men -- they know you're married? I mean, you told them?"

"Of course," Katie explained. "I tell them all about you..."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I tell them that your cock is too small to satisfy me. My current guy -- Ed -- thinks that's really funny..."

As Katie calmly told me this, she squeezed my cock in her slim, cool fingers and I ejaculated.

"Well, well," Katie said coolly. "Isn't that interesting?"

***

We spent the whole night talking. I was in an ecstasy of jealousy as she described all the times that she had been unfaithful to me, and all the men she had been with -- where, when, how. All the lies she had told me. And all through that night I kept getting hard again and, with a few skilled strokes of her hand, she brought me to orgasm several times. By now, she was lying beside me on the bed, still fully clothed though I was now naked. Each plume of sperm I produced spattered her jeans, but she seemed oblivious. Eventually we fell asleep for a few hours.

The next day, Katie woke before me and had showered and changed into a dark blue summer dress. At the breakfast table I could not find any words after all that had happened. But after a while she began to talk.

"I -- there are still things I need to explain," she began. "I told you about Ed for a reason, you see, but I didn't know how you'd react and things didn't go the way I'd expected. But the thing is, what's different from when I was sleeping around before is that things are getting serious with Ed. Oh, don't worry," she interrupted herself, seeing the look of distress on my face. "I'm not going off with him, or going to live with him. I still love you, but not really in a sexual way, I suppose. I never have, if we're being truthful. But I thought I could just have flings and you need never know. But, well, Ed is saying that he doesn't want me having sex with you anymore. He says he wants my body for himself and -- sorry -- that's how I want it, too. So, you see, I had to explain to you why. No more sex and, um, also, we've decided that you aren't allowed to see me naked from now on. I -- I'm sorry.... I don't want you to leave me, though, I just want us to be platonic from now on except maybe..."

"Maybe, what?"

"Well, I realise you've got needs. And, after last night, maybe the best thing would be if I just gave you hand relief sometimes. I mean, I'd have to talk to Ed about it, to see if he'd allow it..."

***

That was the beginning of what became our new life together. Katie made no concealment of the fact that she was seeing Ed, often staying at his place overnight. She talked quite openly about how much she enjoyed sex with him and seemed almost amused by the mixture of pain and excitement it provoked in me.

We gradually settled into a routine whereby once a week she would, as she called it, 'milk the lechery' out of me, using a method she had agreed with Ed. I would go on all fours on the bed and she stood behind me, always fully clothed, wearing a pair of black lacy gloves she had bought for the purpose. Like one performing a routine domestic task, rather than a sexual act, she would reach between my legs and quickly and roughly tug at my swollen penis until I ejaculated. It rarely took more than a few minutes. Afterwards, she would remove her gloves and simply resume normal conversation as if nothing had happened.

The most difficult times for me were when she was preparing to go out to meet him. She was not able -- and did not even try - to conceal her excitement, and she was always careful to wear attractive outfits and make-up. My eyes would follow her around the flat as she got ready. Not that I was ever allowed to see her naked, but she seemed to make sure that I saw her parading around in her underwear as she did her make-up and selected her clothes. Meanwhile, she talked quite openly, as if to a friend rather than her husband, about her plans for the evening, and what she and Ed would do together. She frequently remarked, quite matter of factly, on how much she preferred sex with him to me, and how superior a lover he was, how much larger his penis. Then, with a peck on my cheek, she would be gone.

Gradually, I noticed that the way she dressed was changing. She had always worn quite demure clothes, and had often said that she was careful not to give men the chance to lech at her. Now, her skirts became shorter and shorter, or long but revealingly split, her blouses more and more skimpy, with the lacy edge of her bra and her cleavage on display for all to see. At first, this was just when she was going to meet him but, over time, she dressed this way even for going to work. Whereas before she had wanted to avoid lecherous looks, now she told me that she revelled in them -- and that Ed had taught her to enjoy her sexual attractiveness and the power it gave her.

In time, Katie began to refer to Ed as her boyfriend, rather than simply her lover, and she did not bother to conceal from our friends that she was having this relationship. To her closest friends, she confided that she no longer had sex with me, and explained the reason why. I detected an air of sympathy from some, contempt from others.

She told me -- again, it was quite matter of fact, as if she were talking to a close friend -- that Ed treated her quite badly, often standing her up, and not really interested in her as a person, just as someone for sex. He openly called her his slut, and told her that he owned her pussy. He'd simply grab her, lift her skirt and fuck her, flipping her round into different positions, slapping her arse quite crudely and generally treating her as, in her words, 'a hole to be fucked'.

I was amazed by this as it seemed so far from her principles and, also, from how I myself treated women, including her.

"It's strange," she agreed. "And disconcerting. I certainly haven't changed any of my principles but, at the same time, I just can't get enough of him. It's as if I regress into being a different person when I'm with him. And I'm addicted to it. It's his cock. I mean, I've always wanted and needed big cocks, but always on my terms. Somehow, now, that need has made me subject to his terms. And, as for you, well the truth is that the things about you that made me want to marry you are also the things that mean I'm not sexually excited by you".

That was a hard message to hear, especially when delivered as if there was no sexual content to it, just telling me the truth, as a friend. But, increasingly often, she wasn't like that. Instead, she would deliberately seek to sexually arouse me, flaunting herself and taunting me in the process. For example, she'd often lean forward, giving me a tempting view of her cleavage and bra, smile knowingly and say things like: "oh, you like that, don't you? Getting a flash of my tits. Seeing what you can never have."

Over time, to that she would add contemptuous threats.

"You'd better be careful, looking at me like that. I might have to tell my boyfriend. Get him to deal with you."

"But you can't stop, can you? Looking at me. Leching at me. Wanting me. But I'm his, now. Not yours. And he'd soon put you in your place if I told him how you still keep looking at me".

She was right. I couldn't stop. And she kept making sure I had plenty to look at. One time, when she was talking in her 'just friends' mode, she told me that it excited her to belittle me like that, and, increasingly, that she was getting excited by the thought of actually doing something about it, of getting her boyfriend -- who I had never met -- to humiliate and punish me.

It scared me. But it also excited me in some strange way. I think that because it excited her then, somehow, I felt as if there was still something sexual between us. And, because I loved her, I wanted her to have the pleasure it would give her.

And then I did something very foolish. I told her this.

Katie's story

The last couple of years have certainly been a journey for me, and quite a strange one, I guess. Growing up, I was quite a conventional middle-class home counties girl, from a nice family, living in a nice village, going to a nice independent school. By the time I was 18 I was aware that boys -- and men for that matter -- found me attractive, and I was quite flirty, reveling in the way they would stare at my breasts especially. When I started dating, it tended to be with rugby types from the same kind of background as me and I had sex with quite a few of them. They didn't amount to much as relationships, but I did enjoy the sex. I didn't realize at the time that, purely by chance, they were all pretty well-endowed, so I just thought that that was how sex was.

I changed a lot whilst I was at university, in that I became a more and more devoted to my work and that came first. So I didn't really have much more than the occasional fling anyway. I wasn't looking for a long-term relationship. And I wasn't flirty any more -- on the contrary, I went out of my way to avoid male lechery, which I found distasteful.

When I met Adrian, I fell for him mainly because he made me laugh, and because he was caring and gentle and supportive. I thought that this was the kind of man I wanted to settle down with and although I wasn't especially bothered about getting married I did so when he asked, rather than just live with him, really just to please my parents.

From the start, I never really enjoyed sex with him and it took me a while to realise that this was because his penis is quite small. I hadn't explicitly realised that that was what had made my previous experiences satisfying. I still enjoyed his company as much as ever, and loved him. But I thought that just because we were married it didn't mean that he owned me, sexually, and I didn't see why I should spend my whole life being sexually dissatisfied. But at the same time, because I cared about him, I didn't want to hurt his feelings. So I started hooking up with guys on dating apps.

Mainly it was one-night stands, sometimes a bit more, but then I met Ed and everything changed. He's not the kind of man I'd met before -- very rough and, though I don't inquire closely, clearly pretty much a criminal -- but, god, he did something for me sexually that I'd never experienced and, yes, that was first and foremost because of the size of his cock. It just overwhelmed me, made me insane with lust. And I didn't care, in fact enjoyed, that he was quite rough with me. I don't mean violent, I wouldn't have liked that, but he would just lift up my skirt and shove his cock in me, without any preamble. It was fine -- I was always wet and wanting it. Or, other times, he would masturbate over my face or my breasts and call it 'marking his territory'. From anyone else, I would have found that disgusting but with him -- it was, god, just incredibly arousing.

I'd explained to him how Adrian couldn't satisfy me, and he found that funny. I felt quite guilty, sometimes, as I would talk to him about Adrian, belittling him, because I knew Ed liked it. And he obviously liked the thought of taking another man's wife, especially a nice middle-class academic wife of a nice middle-class man. I wanted to please him by giving him that experience.

Pretty soon, Ed said he didn't want me to have sex with Adrian any more, or even to let him see me naked. I was fine with that, but I was really nervous as it meant I was going to have to tell Adrian and hurt his feelings and, maybe, lose him. But it was really strange. Adrian was upset and shocked but, immediately, I could tell he was actually turned on by it. The night I told him, I wanked him off over and over again. He just couldn't get enough of hearing about me and how I loved being fucked by another man.

Initially, it was a relief that it was all in the open, and that Adrian was -- more or less -- ok with it, especially as I had agreed, with Ed's consent, to masturbate him from time to time. But as time went on I began to feel a growing contempt for him. It was strange. At one level, I still enjoyed his company and respected him as a person. But, sexually, I could see how compared with Ed and with many other men Adrian was, well, contemptible. I didn't subscribe to conventional stereotypes of how men and women should be but, somehow, I did look down on him for being so inadequate.

I took less and less effort to conceal from friends that I had a boyfriend, and that Adrian and I did not have a sexual relationship. I also took more and more pleasure in teasing him with little sexy glimpses of my body or my underwear. I felt a sense of power over him and, for that matter, under Ed's guidance, I had started to dress more provocatively at work as well. I really got off on all the men at the university, terrified of being accused of sexual harassment, but unable to keep their eyes off my cleavage or my long, tanned legs. I realized that this was a real liberation, not my previous idea that I should cover my body so as to avoid their lechery, like some kind of secular nun.

The other thing was that Ed and I talked endlessly about the idea of him meeting Adrian and humiliating him. At first, I did it because I knew it turned him on, but soon it was turning me on just as much. I would fantasise about Ed fucking me in front of Adrian. Or Ed forcing Adrian to kiss my shoes, or to beg my forgiveness for leching at my breasts. I mean it was cruel, almost crazy, but I wanted it. And one day I told Adrian and, to my amazement, he said that he wanted it too.

That was when Ed came and mastered Adrian, and it was was just... incredible. The sight of this man, my husband, on his knees in front of my boyfriend, his face spattered with my boyfriend's sperm. Wow. When Ed and I fucked afterwards, the first time we'd done it in my marital bed, so to speak, was the best sex I'd ever had in my life. And the thought of Adrian listening outside in an agony of jealousy made it even better. The trouble is, now I wanted to do it again, and to go even further in the humiliation of my husband.

Adrian: Afterwards

I couldn't help but do as Katie had said, and listen at the bedroom door as she had sex with Ed -- loud, passionate sex it was, as well -- and as I did so I masturbated furiously, soon coming to a climax. The worst part, strangely, was after they had finished and I could hear them talking in low voices and laughing. I couldn't hear what they were saying but wondered if they were laughing at me. But what really got to me was the sense that there was an intimacy, a connection between them. That made me more jealous than the sex, somehow. After a while I took myself off to my study and stayed there until, a while later, I heard Ed leaving.

I went to the kitchen, but Katie wasn't there and I could hear that she was taking a shower. She emerged about a quarter of an hour later, now just wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, and no make-up. It was by no means a sexy outfit, but the outline of the seams and straps of her bra through the tight material of her tee-shirt excited me.

We didn't speak for a while, but eventually she asked "how are you feeling?" She actually sounded if not concerned then at least friendly.

"Confused, humiliated, shocked... and...."

"Excited? Is that what you mean?"

I was too embarrassed to answer, but I nodded.

"I don't understand it, but I suppose it's part of your, well, of your sexual inadequacy?"

Again, I nodded.

"I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry for you in a way but I'm not sorry Ed did it. You know I'll never look at you the same way again, don't you? I mean, it has changed things seeing you humiliated in front of me."

"Does that mean you are going to leave me for him?"

"God, no. No way. Not because of you but because of Ed. He really gets off on fucking a married woman. If I left you, he wouldn't want me anymore. But I need his cock. I really need his cock. So I'll stay with you so he goes on giving it to me. And because it excited me so much seeing him do that to you, and I want him to go on doing it -- and worse!" Katie declared.

"God, you're a bitch!" I snapped.

But she smiled, tauntingly.

"Right, I'll be telling Ed about that. I'll be telling him any time you do anything to annoy me, or anything disrespectful and anything lecherous. And he'll punish you -- in front of me."

That was the beginning of the next phase of our marriage. Katie would keep a list of all my 'misdeeds', and just by making sure she wore skimpy clothes she ensured that there was always some lechery to report, if nothing else. Then, about once a week Ed would come round and spank me with his belt, always in front of Katie, always with me naked in front of them. Then I'd be made to apologize to her. Sometimes, she would respond by saying that I did not sound sincere, and she would tell Ed to punish me some more.

Most of all, she loved it when he ejaculated on my face. I knew this, of course, not least because she told me, and because I loved her, I did not just accept it but, in some strange way, welcomed it. The humiliation was almost unbearable to me but it was her pleasure, so it was also my gift to her, and her cruel and contemptuous smile was the thanks I craved. Whilst by any normal standards perverted, our marriage is, in its perversion, a true one.