Last update
2020-11-28 16:30:26

    No one would ever suspect how my sweet wife treats me in the privacy of our home. The way she spanks and beats me, the way she verbally abuses me and the way she controls and dominates me. It’s the way she is, and I love her, so it’s ok. But lately, she’s been letting it slip outside the home. At a neighbors party recently, she openly bossed me around and insulted me, and she flirted with our host. When we got home I asked her about it, and she said that she’s tired of our “double life” and wants to stop pretending that I’m a real man in public. She always gets her way, so I know I can’t stop this. I’m just very afraid of what people will think. I know I shouldn’t care about anyone else but her, so I’ll just have to accept it.

    When I asked her to marry me, she said yes, but there were conditions. She said that it was her belief that for a marriage to work, there had to be complete honesty, no secrets. This meant that we would exchange all of our passwords with each other. I wasn’t ready for that...I panicked. I said ok, but that I had to get them for her, and she demanded sternly, no, right this instant. I should’ve refused but I crumbled under her will and gave her everything. About a week later, she sat me down and said she had finished going through my internet activity. She happened to be wearing an amazing fuzzy green sweater. I had held out some hope that she somehow missed looking at my tumblr, but doubted it, and was so afraid, I was actually shaking. She started with my various social media accounts and said that everything looked fine. And then she said what I was dreading. “Now, about your tumblr blog...” I swallowed hard and couldn’t look at her...”we need to discuss each of the perverted things you seem to be so interested in,” she went on. “I think we should start with sweaters. As you can see, I’m wearing the kind of sweater that you say makes you weak. Are you feeling weak?”

    I was mortified. I never intended for anyone to find out about this, especially not my fiancée. But I knew she had me, and couldn’t deny it, so I just nodded and mumbled “yes” while looking down at the floor. The truth was, I never felt so vulnerable and exposed, and it made my dick stiffen.

    “Look at me” she demanded, and I looked up as told. “Now we need to discuss your desire to be in a female led relationship. To be dominated, abused and humiliated. Your feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and realize that this explains a lot. I realize that I’ve know this all along. The evidence has always been there. The way you love pleasing me orally. The way I’m always in top. The way I always decide our social activities. And then there was that fight we had, when I slapped you around...I do remember the hardon you got... So, this is acceptable to me, and won’t be a major change for us. But there was one other thing in your blog that was not acceptable at all- cuckolding.”

    Again, mortified and ashamed, I looked down, and she ordered me to look at her. “You see,” she went on, “so many of your posts are of women thanking their husbands for letting them cuckold them. Do you understand that’s wrong?” I nodded again and tried to say that it was just a fantasy and of course I knew that infidelity was wrong. This made her laugh. “Infidelity? Oh no no no!” she said “you are completely misunderstanding me! Of course infidelity is wrong. But infidelity is when a woman sleeps with another man. You are not a man. So, if I were to sleep with someone else, it wouldn’t be infidelity.” Ouch, that was like a slap in the face, and it made my hard dick begin to throb. “No, what wrong with your posts is that the cuckoldress is thanking the cuckold for “letting them”, for giving them permission. I can assure you that I will not be asking for permission. If I want to have sex with a man, that will be my choice, and you will certainly not have a say. Do you understand that?”

    I just looked at her, my absolute queen and goddess. I was not behind horny and felt so fully in love with her I felt like I was about to burst. “My god, I love you so much,” I gushed, “you are everything I’ve dreamed of. Please say you’ll still marry me, and I’ll be yours forever...” I begged.

    She smiled back at me, wickedly and said “Of course. Now, aren’t you glad I made you share all this with me? We will both be much happier from now on.” I knew she was absolutely right.

    I didn’t know her, but I remembered her from the party, how could I not? She was the hottest woman there, and the way she treated her date...it was awful! She literally bossed him around all night, ordering him to bring her drinks, where he should sit, and he just behaved like her obedient little bitch. The worst part though was when he bumped into her accidentally. Some of her drink spilled and she yelled at him and reprimanded him. Then she made him get on floor and lick her shoes clean in front of everyone! I also noticed how she flirted with other men right in front of him, and when I went to the upstairs bathroom, I heard voices coming from one of the bedrooms. Admittedly, I stopped and listened. I heard male voice complaining and saying “please, honey, please stop” and then I heard some laughter. Then silence, and then I heard her voice saying “shut up and watch what a real man does with a woman.” There was a long period of silence and then someone else came down the hall so I had to stop my eavesdropping, but it was obvious what was going on in there. And they they never reappeared at the party so, I can only assume they spent the night in that room doing whatever perverted things they were doing.

    So seeing her now, I decided to confront her. What she did to that poor man was unforgivable and she should be ashamed of herself. I said excuse me and told her just that, and she just looked at me. Stared me down. Finally she asked “was it really unforgivable? or are you just jealous of my date?” God, she was beautiful. And she was wearing this sexy sweater that made my dick twitch and I suddenly was at a loss for words. “You see, some men aren’t really men at all. Some men would rather be treated like dogs. Made to serve and suffer. I was actually being kind last night because my date was just that type of man. Suffering humiliations and being controlled by me are his ultimate dreams. Did you know we spent the night there? With another man we met at the party? Yes, I had wild sex with that man, while my date watched in humiliation. And then I made my date please that man- even more humiliating- to be made to be a little faggot in front of me. He’s my bitch. I own him. And make no mistake, he loves it.”

    I was shocked, but unbelievably turned on by what she was saying, and she knew it. She looked at my bulging crotch and said it seems that I share a lot in common with her date, and then, “be at my place tonight at 6. Here’s the address. Don’t be late.” Then she left. What just happened I asked myself? I was trying to reprimand her, but she put me in place and...and...oh god...I can’t wait for tonight....

    Part 2:

    She’s been dating him for a few weeks now. Every date, she wears the soft fuzzy sweaters she knows I love so much. I tried begging her not to, but she said he likes them and she wants to please him. She also threatened another spanking if I speak out of turn again, so that’s that.

    When my wife says to do something, I do it. She is not to be argued with or disobeyed. I learned this the hard way early in our marriage, when she over powered me, pinned me down, flipped me over and gave me the spanking of my life. She wallopped me so hard I was seeing stars, and ended up crying like a baby. Now she ordered me to go ask for a man’s phone number for her, so I did. I approached him respectfully, pointed her out and said she thought he was hot and would like to call him later. He looked at me, then her, then said to tell her he thinks she’s sexy too, and gave me his number.

    When we got home, she was feeling wicked, and made me put in her sweater, saying a girl like me should dress in soft feminine clothing, and then she took out another one for herself and proceded to call the number I got for her, while I stood there, ashamed, her sissy cuckold. They have a date tonight, and he’ll be over for drinks before they go out. I hope she lets me go hide, or at least take off her sweater, but I’m afraid to ask for either. It will just depend on what she feels like having me do....

    Uhh, you think you have a say? Like this is some sort of democracy? No, our “relationship” is a simple dictatorship. I am in charge. What I say goes, you got that? What did you say? Ok. Better. Apology accepted. Now show me, and everyone else here just how sincere you are. Get down and kiss my feet. After all, a dictator needs to make a show of power every now and then, right?

    Have you ever really experience pain? The kind of excruciating pain that hurts you right down to your sole? Breaks your spirit permanently? That you never truly recover from?

    That kind of pain can only be inflicted on you by someone you love. And it has to combine both physical and psychological torment. I know because I learned the hard way- the woman I love, in the softest furriest sweater, and sweetest look on her face. It started with a spanking for being disobedient, and escalated from there. Tied, whipped and beaten some more, then genital torture. As I cried and sobbed, she began telling me about her infidelity. That she had fallen in love with another man and made me her cuckold. Next, she had her lover come over. She cheered him on as he proceded to beat and whip me as well. Then he made me sniff, kiss and lick him in all the most humiliating places - feet, armpits, ass, balls, and finally I was made to take him in my mouth and swallow his spunk. Then he slapped me around some more, saying that now I was his bitch as well as hers. I sobbed some more. Her laughter hurt more than all the rest.

    And this became the ritual. A frequent pastime for them until I stopped fighting and accepted it. Accepted what I am. Actually began to like it. To need it. And when they finally tired of it- of me- I found myself begging them not to discard me. Please, let me stay and be your humble slave and servant I begged. They let me, thank god, but they don’t do those things anymore. Now they just act as though I’m not even there, unless it’s to give me an order. I have asked a few times for them to do what they used to with me, and so far, they’ve not even acknowledged my question, but I keep hoping, someday...I hope....

    Gawd, you’re giving me a headache...I’m sooo tired of hearing your whiny girly voice pleading for attention...just leave me alone, ok? Go do something useful, like the housework. Maybe later I’ll be less disgusted with you and will let you bring me over to Paulo’s- I know how you like to torture yourself by bringing me to the man who took me away from you.

    Oh you silly little man. I’ve been cheating on you since our wedding day. Don’t be so shocked. Haven’t you ever wondered why we never have sex?

    Well, because you’re completely inadequate as a man. You make me sick. The only thing you’re good for is to be my servant, and I think it’s high time we made that official. I want you to say it. Out loud. Admit what you are.

    There. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?

    Hey, you know what? I know this guy...he’s the little wimp from the gym...the guy whose always cleaning the locker rooms and that’s always gawking at us.

    Hmmm, I have an idea...

    Hey boy, come here. We want to talk to you...you see, our feet are very sore...would you be a dear and massage them for us? If you do a good job, who knows, maybe...would you like to kiss them?

    No silly, you can’t come with us, it’s for just us girls! Aww, so sad...alright, alright, you can come, but...well, only if you’re willing to be “one of the girls”. Will you be a girl for the day?

    Why, of course you can! You’re very feminine anyway! Here, you can wear my sweater, that’ll do the trick! You’ll look so cute!

    Part 3:

    Do you know why you’re here?

    Haha, well, it certainly isn’t for sex, we only do that with real men. No, you are here because you are so obviously weak and pitiful, A pathetic little worm like you only has one suitable purpose. As a slave. Are you prepared to serve?

    “Here boy, come and sit here, right next to me,” she demanded softly, sort of like you’d command your pet. I sat down bashfully, unable to look at her face, just mesmerized by her soft fuzzy sweaterdress. “I like short, shy boys like you,” she went on, “you tend to be the most obedient.” She paused, letting that sink in. “Obedient”. That word sent shivers down my spine, and made my sick twitch. Was this really happening? I thought to myself. It’s always been my fantasy to be dominated by a strong woman, to be her slave, and I’ve always had a major fetish for soft fuzzy sweaters. This was too good to be true. But then she continued “Are you an obedient boy?”she asked. “Yes ma’am” I answered softly, “yes I’d like that very much.” She smile and stood up, “ok then, follow me,” she said and began walking. I followed behind, already in love and under her spell. All I wanted was to leave my life behind and to be hers forever.