My Unforgiving Wife - Sex Story

After three months of marriage to Sandy I thought everything was going fine. My young wife was stunning, taller than me, with a 38-26-42 figure and long chestnut hair. To most guys she might have appeared a bit overweight, but the extra fullness of her curves was like heaven to me. I considered myself amazingly lucky, being short and not at all powerfully built, and a pretty colorless guy on top of that. Oddly, that was what had attracted Sandy to me. She was accustomed to having every male who saw her gaping at her big bust and bottom, and had been through many short-term relationships before she met me. I represented stability and, though I lusted after her as much as any man, with my small penis and premature ejaculations, I wasn't very sexually demanding. She didn't even seem to mind that I couldn't give her orgasms.

Everything went wrong after I met her friend Trish, who resembled my wife but with blond hair. When they were at our house I was in heaven, trying not to be obvious as I feasted my eyes on the generous contours of both their figures. One evening the three of us were enjoying drinks when Sandy announced that someone needed to run out and buy another bottle. I volunteered but she pointed out that I had passed my limit on alcohol. I was a touch tipsy, so my wife played the good hostess and went herself.

At first I felt awkward, being alone with sexy Trish, but she was relaxed and chatty. Very soon I felt my libido heating up. Was she flirting with me? It certainly seemed that way and, fueled by one too many drinks, I suggested we dance to the music on the CD player. Trish was hesitant but I kept pestering her. Suddenly I was pressed close to that fantastic body with my arms around her. As we danced I became convinced she was rubbing herself lasciviously against me. I responded by running my hands up and down her back. Emboldened by her lack of complaint, I slid my fingers down to her big desirable sitter and grabbed hold.

"Bobby," she said tightly. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Aw, come on," I told her, my words slightly slurred. "I know you want it."

"Please!" She tried to push me away.

I got one hand between us and grabbed her breast. "I'm just having a little fun. Don't you want to...?"

"ROBERT!!!" my wife's voice snapped. "What do you think you're doing to Trish?"

"I... what?"

Sandy was standing in the kitchen door. She had returned from the nearby liquor store and come in the back way.

As I stepped away from Trish I saw that the shoulder strap of her sleeveless top was down. Without thinking I reached out to adjust it. She screamed and backed away.

"But I... We were just..." I said clumsily, all at once feeling very sober. "Trish and I were just dancing and she started..."

What if she HADN'T been trying to send me a sexual signal? I might have just forced myself on my wife's best friend. My voice froze in my throat.

"Sandy," our guest said, sounding ready to cry. "He was grinding his hips against me and then he grabbed me."

"I saw," my wife agreed.

"Yeah, but, I didn't mean to..." I managed that many words before Sandy's venomous stare silenced me.

She was looking at my crotch and, as my eyes followed hers, I saw that I had a full erection. Admittedly, it wasn't very large, me being so small down there, but it was totally incriminating.

Sandy went to the counter to set down the bottle, then to Trish to take the shaken woman in her arms comfortingly. After a few moments her friend composed herself, then gazed angrily at me.

"I should call the police," Trish said threateningly.

"Maybe there's another way," my wife told her. "I've been having some problems with Bobby already and this shows me how bad the situation really is. I'll make you a fresh drink and then we'll all sit down. If he doesn't want to cooperate, I'll make a 911 call myself."

They sat side-by-side on the couch. In shock, I put myself on a hard wooden chair across from them.

"All right," Sandy said to me. "You've been a complete dud in bed since our wedding night. I thought you'd get better at it, but you've gotten worse. You're selfish, you have a tiny dick, and it shoots off way too soon. The only reason I kept trying was for the good of our marriage. But if you think it's okay to paw my best friend right here in our home, then you can forget having sex with me. But I'm still going to need some kind of satisfaction. So here's what we'll do. You're going to use your mouth on me whenever I want sex." She held up her hand. "And don't give me any of that crap you've been shoveling out about how you hate to do that. I don't EVER want to hear that excuse again. Understood?"

I didn't want her calling the cops, and what she had said about my bedroom performance was true, so I nodded weakly in agreement. "Yes, dear."

"Good. And before we were married I was used to getting good sex from real men. So, since you think it's okay for you to fool around, now I think it's okay for ME. Have you got a problem with that?"

"W... what do you mean?"

"I mean, stupid, that from now on I'm going to go out with any man I please. I'm going to go to bed with them. And you're going to keep your mouth shut... except when I want it on my pussy. RIGHT?"

I was appalled but I had to get past this crisis. Telling myself we could reverse all this later, I simply said, "You're right, dear. I agree."

"But there's still the matter of Trish. What you did could be grounds for divorce. I'm sure you don't want her filing a complaint and me having that to take to a lawyer later on." I nodded numbly and she went on. "So let's figure out what Trish needs to make her feel safe around you." She turned to her friend. "Anything you say will be all right with him," Sandy assured her.

"Well," Trish said, "Maybe if I could be in some kind of situation with him where he wouldn't seem like a threat anymore, that would convince me I'm not in any danger."

Sandy glared at me. "You heard her. You've got one chance, jerkface, to make this all right, and if you don't..." She let the possibilities hang like a threat in the air.

"I... I'll do whatever you say," I told my wife defeatedly. "Anything."

"Prove it. Get down on your hands and knees and crawl over here."

What? That sounded crazy but if I refused it would mean a world of trouble, including a police record and possibly the end of my marriage. Even after my wife's declaration that my sexual rights were revoked, and that she felt justified to date other men, to openly cheat on me, I thought I could repair the damage my loss of control had caused. So I slipped off the chair and got onto my knees, put my hands on the carpet in front of me, and moved toward them on all fours. That gave me a clear view up their skirts, which got me aroused all over again. When I reached my wife's feet I stopped and looked contritely up at her.

She told me, "Kiss my feet."

I was taken aback but saw that she was trying to prove to Trish that I was not really a threat. So I lowered my face and pressed my lips to her toes, which were exposed by her high heeled sandals. I kept it up while she explained to her friend that I was nothing but a wimp. Then, to my shock, she offered to have me kiss Trish's feet.

"Well, that would show me that he's trying to do the right thing," her sexy friend allowed. "I guess it would be all right."

So I wordlessly moved to a spot in front of her, frustratingly aware of how close I was to all that girl flesh, and repeated my humiliating demonstration. Trish chuckled and told Sandy that this was 'a good start'. I had to keep pressing my lips to her toes, which were on display like my wife's, while they discussed what else was required of me. Very soon I was obediently kissing Trish's ankles and then her calves. I was wildly excited and hoped desperately that they wouldn't notice my hard-on. Trish grew very comfortable with what was going on. The two of them laughed about my situation and discussed going out on a double date while I stayed home and did all Sandy's housework.

Trish grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked my head up higher. She parted her knees and ordered me to kiss the insides of her thighs. While I did that she got out her cell phone and made a call.

She said, "Hello, Danny? It's Trish. How you doing, stud? Look, I've got a girlfriend and we want to do a double date. You got a friend for her? What? Oh, she's a lot like me. Big tits and big ass. Lonf hair. I'll bet you've got a buddy who would go for that. Oh yeah? I remember Flip. He'd be perfect. How about at 8 tonight, at the Blue Light? Okay, see you in about two hours."

Unexpectedly, my wife barked at me, "Get up! NOW!"

I snapped to my feet, too late remembering that I had that raging stiffy. My wife cursed at me for my lack of control. Trish acted upset. Then Sandy had an inspiration.

"Listen," she said. "My loser husband has hardly anything between his legs. I'm sure if you got a look at his miserable excuse for a cock, you'd be convinced how harmless he is. Don't you think?"

She settled back down. "It's really that small?"

"It's a joke. When he's inside me I don't even feel it. In fact, I won't miss it at all now that we're not going to be having sex anymore."

Trish giggled. "Wellll, if it's that tiny, and I got a good look at it, I'd see there's nothing there that could hurt me."

"Exactly," Sandy agreed. Then, to me, she said, "All right, imbecile. Take your little pencil out so Trish can have a good laugh. Unless you still want me to make that 911 call, and get everything that goes along with that. You know, if the cops hear your own wife saying you did it..."

I shuddered. My fingers went to my fly and lowered it. I begged Sandy with my eyes not to make me humiliate myself that way. I'd had dates where girls were turned off by myimmature penis. I'd even had a few who laughed at it. That reminded me of how messed up my love life would be if I ended up divorced. I started to fish out my dick. By tomorrow, I promised myself, my wife would calm down and all this would be behind us. Out came my four-and-a-half inch erection, not very large around. Trish smiled and snickered.

"I guess I really DON'T have anything to be worried about with your husband. But with a miniature winky like that he must not have gotten laid a lot when he was single. I'll bet he jerked off all the time."

Before I had absorbed that remark my wife snarled at me, "I'm sure that's true. Isn't it, Bobby?"

Standing there with my undersized member on display I didn't feel confident enough to lie to her. My willpower evaporated and I confessed. "Yes, dear. I'm sorry. I did."

"You did WHAT? And don't try to call it 'masturbation'. Call it what it is!"

"I..." My cheeks flushed hotly. "I jerked off." Under the power of her unforgiving anger, I added, "A lot. I couldn't help myself. I was horny all the time." Blinking, I tried to hold back tears.

"My husband, the jerkoff," she said bitterly. "Now that you've been cut off, I'm sure you'll have your little hand on your tiny pecker every time I'm not keeping an eye on you."

Trish smiled evilly. "I can fix that. Remember I was telling you about my friend Wayland, the gay guy who owns a sex toy site on-line? Well, he gave me a bunch of samples of his products. I was going to get them out at a sleepover I'm having this weekend. Wayland and I figured the girls would all get a laugh at the dildoes and stuff, and he might pick up some business because I'd make sure they all got his e-mail address. Let me go out to the car. I've got the PERFECT thing for a naughty boy like your hubby who can't stop touching his shrimpy dick."

They left me standing there, my erection shrinking, while Trish went to her car and Sandy made another round of drinks. When they were both back I had gone completely soft. That's when Trish told me to close my eyes, move my feet apart, and not dare get hard again for the next few minutes. I felt her slipping something over my flaccid tool and then was aware of something being clicked shut behind my scrotum. When I was allowed to open my eyes again I saw, to my horror, that they had placed a male chastity tube over my dick. Sandy got behind me and unbuttoned my shirt, all the while breathing hotly into my ear. As soon as my hairless chest was bare she began toying with my flat pink nipples. I gasped with pleasure. She knew how sensitive I was there.

"See," she said to Trish. "He gets hot from having his titties played with, just like a girl. My husband the sissy."

"Really," Trish said. "And look at his Tiny Tim trying to get hard."

I turned my eyes down and groaned at the sight. All of my dick was trapped in the locked-on tube, unable to grow erect, except the head, which was uncovered. My wife reached around to rub the receptive underside of it with her talented fingers. I whimpered with pent-up need.

"That's the beauty of it," Trish explained. "You can tease him all night but there's no way for him to cum."

They both laughed out loud at the fix I was in. Then Trish joined my wife in teasing me. Both of them undid the tops of their blouses, showing off their deep cleavages. Then they hiked up their skirts to give me an eyeful of their full thighs and a peek at their panty fronts. I was nearly weeping with frustration.

"And just think," my wife added as she patted my ass. "We'll be doing this ALL the time. Your balls are going to be every shade of blue. And there won't be a thing you can do to get relief. Not even when we're in bed together and you've got your mouth on my hot wet pussy all night long. Ha, ha, ha!"

"But honey," I blubbered. "You can't do this to me. We're married."

"We may be married on paper, but if you can't make me happy in bed, and you try to molest my best friend, you have NO rights when it comes to sex. Now strip down and then you can help both of us get ready for our double date."

I sniffled and began removing my clothes. Sandy made a joke about having me use my mouth on her to get her ready for her date. Trish said that, now that I was in my 'penis prison' and she had no reason to feel threatened by me, maybe I should be her 'pussy boy', too. Instead of objecting, my wife laughed and said that was a terrific idea.

I had to get in the shower with each of them and wash their smooth backs, then kneel and soap up their legs. Then I had to watch them get dressed, running and fetching whatever they needed. When they perfumed and powdered themselves they made sure to get lots of scent on me, calling me a sissy and warning that they might buy a couple of strap-ons from Wayland's site.

"After all," Trish said boldly. "Pansy boys like you enjoy taking it up the rear. Don't you?"

Too scared to disagree, I nodded and said, "Yes, Trish. We do."

They dressed themselves to show off their bountiful figures. Both wore sleeveless tops with no bras underneath, so that their breasts were half exposed. Their skirts were tiny and displayed their stockinged legs almost up to their asses. Sandy even bent forward to show me how that brief skirt would ride up, revealing that her broad sitter was left uncovered by a tiny thong.

Sandy took time to scribble down a half dozen jobs for me to do, starting with a complete clean-up of the bathroom. There was enough work for several hours and I wasn't allowed to get dressed. In fact, they locked my clothes in our bedroom. Or, as Sandy now called it, HER bedroom. I labored for hours in the nude, unable to stop thinking about the terrible situation I'd gotten myself into. When I was finally done and hoping for a few minutes of rest, I heard the front door opening.

"Bobby, you wussy," my wife hollered. "Get out here."

"B... b... but, I'm undressed."

"Who cares? Move it, pussyface."

She sounded a bit drunk and I heard deep male laughter. They had brought their dates home. Even so, I had no choice. With my hands in front of my crotch, I hurried toward the front door. I nearly fainted when I saw the men. They were both tall, muscular -- and BLACK. Trish's date, Danny, had a shaved head and a soul patch. The one with my wife, Flip, had very short hair and a Fu Manchu mustache. Both wore muscle shirts and tight jeans. Somehow I had expected the girls just to get drinks and then come home alone. Maybe even to take that maddening sheath off me and decide that I had learned my lesson. But this was my worst fears come true.

Sandy pressed herself against Flip and turned her face up. He gave her a deep lingering kiss while one hand explored her ass and the other the side of her breast. Danny got behind Trish. She bent back her head to receive his open-mouthed kiss while he fitted his large hands over her breasts. The girls were thrilled by the attention they were getting.

Then everyone paused to stare at me. Sandy strode up to me and slapped my hands aside. She pointed to my underdeveloped penis and announced that it was the reason she needed a real man like Flip, with a real cock. I cringed with shame as the four of them laughed and pointed and made cruel remarks. One of the guys caught a whiff of all the scent they'd put on me and said I smelled like a gay ho.

"Yeah," Sandy said. "He's certainly not a real man. So why don't we head for the bedroom, Flip?" He was only too happy to comply. To me, she said, "Hey, dickless, make drinks for everybody. And nothing for you."

With shaking hands I prepared four mixed drinks. I took two to Trish and Danny in the guest bedroom. They were already undressing each other. Against my will, at the sight of Trish's huge bust and rear, I got horny again. My dick managed to stand up, with only the head getting swollen. They thought that was hilariously funny. Then, with my contained erection bobbing in front of me, I had to go to what was now Sandy's bedroom. She was on the bed with Flip, naked, enjoying wild foreplay. She kept telling him what a dud I had been between the sheets. He freely touched her everywhere. His erection was immense, easily twice my slender 4-and-a-half.

The Black cocksman glared at me. "Hey, dickboy. Get your face between this sexy lady's thighs. She tells me you don't eat no pussy. That's going to change right now. She needs to be good and wet for me to get all my meat up in her. Right? And you want her to be happy. Right? And you can't do anything for her with that piece of nothing you got. Right?"

I stood there gaping at the scene before me. Then, rather than risk his wrath, I said meekly, "Yes Sir, I'll do it. I want her to be happy and I can't make her happy. Um... thank you."

Shamefaced, I got my mouth on Sandy's already juicy femaleness. It was horrible to me to have to touch a woman that way with my mouth, but I began to lick and probe. She laughed and assured Flip that once she'd had his monster cock inside her she would never want me again. She told him how she had dated Black guys before and always preferred them. She even admitted that she only married me to cure her sex addiction but, after three months of my bedroom disappointments she knew she had to get back to Black cock.

"I still might have been faithful to pussy mouth down there," she concluded. "Except that he tried to go after my friend Trish, the filthy little geek."

Flip laughed. "You're damned right you'll never want him again." With one hard kick he knocked me off the mattress. "After tonight you going to be in the Black Cock Only Club for life."

Groaning, I got up onto my knees in time to see him mount her. I was at the perfect level to witness his massive organ parting her slicked pussy lips, stretching her wide, and sinking into her up to his balls. She moaned in ecstasy, told him how fantastic he was, and what a zero I had been.

She kept say, "Never again, wimp hubby. Never again."

Not only did Flip have twice my penis dimensions and more, but he could go on and on and on. He gave Sandy a trio of wild kicking orgasms and had two loud finishes of his own. When they were finally done he rolled off her and I could see from her sated look that she was utterly satisfied. She had never been that way after sex with me.

"All right, pussy tongue," Flip told me. "Get back to what you were doing before."

"B... back to... to...?"

"Back to eating this bitch's box, crap-for-brains. Clean up all that nice hot sauce before it leaks out onto the sheets. I find one drop you missed, I'm going to kick your balls so hard they'll end up in your throat and choke you. Now DO IT!"

Thoroughly sickened, but seized by mindless fear, I got my mouth back on Sandy's now overflowing pussy and began slurping -- and swallowing -- Flip's double load of ejaculate, along with her copious fluids. Sandy rubbed her mound against my face and told me that was all I was good for, and that I could expect to do it everytime she had sex, which would be all the time. Flip held her and locked lips with her while I experienced a very different type of liplock, my mouth glued to her messy snatch. Even after I was sure she was clean she left me down there, licking and sucking, until she had a mild aftershock of a climax.

When she at last allowed me to stop, I was panting. Then she told me to go to the guest bedroom and do the same thing for Trish. Just to make sure our guest was no longer afraid of me.

***

That was nine months ago. Since then I have been a virtual slave to Sandy and Trish. They see their Black lovers several times a week. When they go out, I stay home and do my chores in the nude. When they stay home for sex I have to wait on them, also in the nude. Both women slap my face in front of the men. Luckily for me, the two Black studs think I'm beneath their notice and leave it up to the women to push me around, which they delight in doing.

My paychecks go directly to Sandy. I do all the housework. She dictates what I eat and controls every second of my time. I haven't had my hand on the TV remote once since she took over my life. They did go to Wayland's website and purchased a variety of sex toys with my charge card. Sandy has a harness she wears to hold strap-ons, of which she bought several. She also got a tool belt from the hardware shop and likes to model it with all the strap-ons hanging from it. She calls herself a toolbelt diva. At least once a week she tells me its time for penetrative sex, except that now it's her penetrating me with her dildo’s which are all, as she loves to remind me, larger than my little dick.

I'm distractedly horny all the time. I haven't been out of my chastity once since they locked it on me. I crave any kind of physical contact they'll allow me, giving them foot rubs, backrubs, tongue baths, and full body massages. All of that just makes my condition worse, but I'm still desperate to keep touching them. And they touch me. The teasing never stops. Sometimes they even touch each other, kiss, and grind their pussies together, just to keep me so horny I can't think straight.

My life has become a nightmare of being cuckolded, reduced to sexual slavery, being mocked, and having my every movement controlled. Sandy has even vowed to get me addicted to all these things I hate, and I believe she will eventually do it. Imagine, dreading every humiliation and punishment, yet needing them at the same time.

Strangest of all, however, is when I think back to the night this all started. On reflection, everything that occurred that evening now seems suspiciously coincidental, almost as if they had planned it. What if all of it was done on purpose, if I let them trap me into this new, unbearable life? I can't stop dwelling on it. It makes everything so much worse.

But I'll have to think more about that later. Right now Flip and Danny are about to arrive to take the girls out for another date. They expect to be gone a long time so they've arranged to have me watched by Flip's cousin and Danny's sister, two young Black women, Dineesha and Kyreese. I've already been warned that I'm expected to do whatever these two females demand. Sandy mentioned that they're both hypersexual, insatiable, and very cruel. The idea of a 'white sucka' to play with, tease, use and abuse, appeals to them VERY much. In fact, Sandy told me, if I'm good they'll come back all the time to have fun with me. And if I'm not good, they'll come back all the time until I learn how to be good.