You’ve stumbled upon the world of Cuckold! This isn’t your typical bedtime read—it’s intense and, honestly, a little wild. I mean, who doesn’t love stories that push boundaries, stir up emotions, and keep you hooked until the very last word?
These tales are as much about power dynamics and emotions as they are about the drama. It’s how it makes you feel. Whether you’re here for the thrills, the chills, or out of curiosity (don’t worry, I won’t tell), there’s something in this genre that pulls you in.
So grab a cozy seat, maybe a cup of tea (or something stronger), and let’s read real-life stories that will have you raising an eyebrow, cracking a smile, or saying, “Wait… what just happened?!” 😏✨
10 Cuckold Bully Stories
Whenever I open my mailbox, I find many cuckolding stories that people want to share. I selected the 10 best stories that are full of humiliation and bullying. They invite you to look at love, trust, and intimacy through a different lens, making the narratives deeply personal and surprisingly relatable at times. Let’s enjoy!
1. My Submissive Role As A Good Cuck
One weekend, my wife decided to have her girlfriends over for a casual get-together at our place. Things were going smoothly, the usual gossip and laughter filling the air, until the conversation took a turn—a very deliberate, humiliating turn for me. With a wicked smile, she began telling her friends stories about how she would make me dress in pink panties and a bra, how she loved to watch me squirm as I watched her with other men. She even told them how I “enjoyed” it.
“Tell them, baby,” she said, turning her attention to me, “Tell them how much you love watching me get fucked.” My stomach tightened, but I said the words she wanted me to say. I told her friends how much I loved watching her with other men, how I cleaned her afterward, licked her clean, and even sucked her lover’s cock until he finished in my mouth. The way they looked at me, half shocked, half entertained, made my face burn, but I kept going because I knew I had no choice.
The room was alive with giggles and snickers, and then my wife leaned forward, her eyes glinting with mischief. “How about a little demonstration?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet. “Would you like to see him suck some cocks?”
There was a chorus of eager agreement from her friends. My heart sank, but I didn’t say a word. She ordered me to go put on my panties and bra—my role, my place was clear. Within minutes, three men she had called were at our house. The girls watched me as I obediently got on my knees, dressed as she commanded, and began to pull down one of the men’s pants. The moment I took him in my mouth, the laughter and clapping erupted around me, filling the room with an air of amusement and cruelty.
She stood over me, guiding the scene, and told me to let him finish all over my face. As I felt the hot release splatter across my cheeks, her friends cheered, clapping louder, egging me on. I could barely breathe through the bully, but they weren’t done with me yet.
“More,” they demanded, “more!” My wife smiled, enjoying every second of my debasement. I turned to the next man, asking, “Do you want to cum on my face or in my mouth?” They all wanted it on my face, of course. Each time, one of the girls would wipe the cum from my face with her fingers and make me lick it off, as if it were some kind of twisted game.
By the end of the night, I was left with nothing but shame, my wife’s girlfriends laughing at the spectacle they had witnessed, and my wife, fully in control, satisfied with the scene she had orchestrated.
This was our life now—a far cry from anything I ever imagined, but it was my reality. A reality I had chosen to stay in, for better or for worse.
Every time I clean her pussy, here is a clip for you: My Submissive Role As A Good Cuck
2. Finally, Our Married Life Got Spark
When I told my husband about the passionate, intimate, and sexually fulfilling relationship I had developed with my lover, it was like dropping a bomb on everything we had built together. I knew the truth would crush him—it was something no man should have to hear. But the secret affair, sneaking around like teenagers, had gone on for almost a year. We were grown-ups, in love, and hiding wasn’t something we could keep doing. I had to face it head-on.
I told my husband that he needed to accept this new chapter in my life and respect my relationship with this other man. If he couldn’t, I made it clear—I would file for divorce. It wasn’t easy, but our marriage had long been broken in its own ways. We hadn’t shared a bed in over two years, and our sex life had been non-existent for even longer. It was like we were roommates, living in separate worlds under the same roof.
When I finally revealed everything, I watched his face fall. His heart shattered. But despite his pain, he reluctantly agreed. He knew he couldn’t give me what I needed, so he accepted my relationship with my lover, X. In a twisted sense, he accepted his role as the cuckold in this situation, though I know it killed him inside. It was the end of one story, and the beginning of another—my lover had become the man in my life, the one who took over the privileges that had once belonged to my husband.
On weekends and many nights, my lover would stay over, and my husband was expected to welcome him into our home. It was a bizarre arrangement, but it worked for us. My lover and I were committed to each other, deeply in love, and we deserved the freedom to enjoy our time together. We had that right.
Given our living situation—a small house with only two bathrooms, one in the master suite and one in the hallway—I made a decision. I didn’t want my husband wandering around at night, potentially interrupting our moments of passion, and frankly, I didn’t want him to overhear the sounds of our sex. The thought of him listening to me in the throes of ecstasy, being fulfilled in ways he no longer could, was just too much. So, I made a choice: I put him in diapers, gave him an early bedtime, and confined him to his room whenever my lover was over.
It spared us all the embarrassment and awkwardness. My lover and I had our privacy, free to enjoy each other without the fear of being overheard, while my husband was tucked away, unable to intrude. It’s not something I’m proud of, but at the time, it felt necessary. It’s been nearly 15 years since that decision. It wasn’t easy, but in my mind, it had to be done.
Life isn’t always neat or kind, and sometimes you have to make choices that seem cruel to survive.
One day he called me while I was sucking my lover’s cock. See here: Our Married Life Got Spark
3. My Cucky Husband Made Me A Bitch
I guess this is one of those stories where you either get it, or you don’t. See, after my husband lost most of his equipment to cancer, we stumbled into this strange, yet electrifying world of humiliation. It started small, but we didn’t stay in the shallow end for long.
His situation left him with… well, let’s just call it a cock that wouldn’t even impress a baby. He knows it. I know it. But what’s truly wild? He loves watching me with other men. It drives him crazy—knowing that he can’t do anything about it. He watches, and I get very vocal, really playing it up, begging for a real cock, telling my lovers to fuck me harder, to give me what he can’t. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, it’s not only one lover—it’s several. There’s something about having multiple men pounding away while I scream for more, telling them to fill me with extra cum, just so my husband can clean it up. Yep, that’s right. He’s right there, waiting for his turn, and that’s what does it for him.
One of our favorite things? Gangbangs. I mean, there’s something about the energy, the rawness of it all. My husband? He’s never part of the action, but he’s always there, waiting. We don’t let him clean me up until everyone is done—like an afterparty, but dirtier. And yeah, while they’re fucking me, I’m constantly telling him how good my pussy feels. The power in that? It’s intoxicating.
One time, and this might be our all-time favorite, we took things to a whole new level. I ended up fucking 13 guys at a homeless shelter. Now, I know that sounds like a lot, and it was, but let me tell you—it was something else. Especially the fresh arrivals who hadn’t even cleaned up. Some of them were rough, dirty, and reeked of street life. I loved every second, asking them how I looked fucking their filthy cocks, their crusty bodies pressing against mine. It was fresh and hot. Some of them even wanted me to wear their nasty underwear while we went at it. They’d make my husband suck those same dirty undies dry after we were done, and being the good cuck that he is, he obliged without a word.
It’s a lifestyle that might make some people cringe, but for us? It’s pure excitement. It’s our little twisted world, and we love every second of it.
My husband took a video of us and later, he sent me: My Cucky Husband Made Me A Bitch
4. Her Humiliation
It was one of those weekends, you know? We were at MIS, for our annual camping trip. A time I usually look forward to—the thrill of the race, the camaraderie, the break from everyday life. We’d rented a port-a-john, like we always do, because, let’s face it, dealing with an RV’s plumbing is the last thing anyone wants when you’re trying to have a good time.
It started off like any other evening. After a long day of excitement and drinks, she cuddled up to me. I thought it was a signal, a moment where things might get a little… intimate. But apparently, I was dead wrong. As soon as I made my move, she shut it down hard.
“Take care of THAT,” she said, pointing at my erection, her tone leaving no room for argument. I tried to reason with her, hoping she’d reconsider, but she wasn’t having any of it. My protests fell on deaf ears, and when I started to lose the moment, she reached over, nails digging into me just enough to ensure it was back to full attention.
Yeah, that’s when she sent me out—to the port-a-john. In the dark, with her sister and brother-in-law on one side of us, and my brother and his wife on the other. I had to sit there on that grimy plastic seat, jerking off into the hole beneath me. I couldn’t see what was down there, but I didn’t need to. Just the thought was enough to turn my stomach. It wasn’t the slightest bit satisfying—hell, it didn’t even feel good—but I did it because that’s what she wanted.
When I came back, she didn’t even wait. She checked, making sure I had actually done it. I always drip a little afterward, and since I’m a “one and done” kind of guy, she knew I wouldn’t be able to get hard again. That was her proof, her twisted sense of control.
I’ve had some tough moments with her, but man, this? This was a whole new level of humiliation. Worse than the time after we got married, when I found out about her first affair. But, I guess, in some weird way, this was my life now. A bizarre mix of love, control, and shame, all tangled up in one.
5. She Bullied Me Publicly
Let me tell you about this one time, a moment that I still think about because of how intense it got. We were out at this nice restaurant—a typical evening, you know? The kind where you’re not expecting anything crazy to happen. We grabbed a table, and there happened to be two women sitting right next to us, enjoying their meal. My wife, in her usual bold style, decided to start talking about, well… me. Specifically, about how small I am, how unsatisfied she was, making sure the women nearby could hear every single word.
I sat there, the pit in my stomach growing as she continued, talking about how much she craved something bigger. She didn’t even bother lowering her voice. It was loud enough for the women next to us to catch on. They were eating pasta with meatballs, and I heard one of them say, “These meatballs are very small.” Her friend chimed in, laughing, “Looks like everything’s small in here.” They were clearly having fun at my expense, giggling as they threw side-glances at me.
My wife picked up on it too. She’s sharp like that. So, as we waited for our waitress, she struck up a conversation with the women, asking them, “How’s the food here?” One of them responded, “Oh, it’s great! We come here all the time. Lots of handsome men around.” Then, with a smirk, she added, “Except for the meatballs… they’re a little small tonight.” And they both laughed again.
Without missing a beat, my wife jumped in, louder now, so the whole place could hear. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been married to one where the meatballs are like olive pits, and the member is more like thin pasta.” The laughter that followed from those women? It felt like it echoed through the whole damn restaurant. One of them even said, “You poor girl!”
It didn’t stop there. What we hadn’t realized was that the waitress had been standing right there, overhearing everything. She looked at my wife, not me, and said, “Oh, I’ve been through that. Had a guy with a small dick, too. I brought home bigger men, and he didn’t get a say in it.” There I was, sitting right in front of them all, listening to these women casually talk about my manhood—or lack thereof—as if I wasn’t even there.
By this point, I was red with embarrassment. I swear the entire restaurant had probably tuned in. It was like a scene out of a nightmare, being bullied publicly like that, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.
When we got home later that night, my wife kissed me, whispering, “Love my little man.” She knew how much it had affected me. I told her how embarrassed I was, especially because—it was other women, strangers, talking about it so openly.
Here’s the thing, though. Humiliation has a strange power, especially when it’s done in front of the opposite sex. It’s one thing for men to talk about this stuff, but when women get involved? It hits different, and it definitely leaves a mark. If you’re ever thinking about bullying your cuck, don’t be afraid to let other women know how small he is. At first, it’ll be a rush for both of you—bully like you’ve never experienced—but in the end, he’ll love you for it. He’ll get used to it, and trust me, it’ll change things in ways you can’t even imagine.
6. My Wife Let Me Suck A Cock
I’ll never forget that night—it’s etched in my mind as the most humiliating experience of my life. My wife and I were traveling to visit one of her lovers, a black guy she’d been seeing for a while. He was athletic, dominant, and always knew how to take control in the bedroom. We’d all gotten along well enough, but when it came to their private time, I’d usually make myself scarce—grab a drink and let them have their fun.
But this time was different. On the drive up, my wife started feeling sick. By the time we reached the hotel, she was wiped out, went straight to bed, and called him to cancel their plans. He said he’d come by anyway, just to check on her. When he arrived, he was kind enough, offering her a shot of Fireball to soothe her throat, telling her to rest and get better. I was about to relax, thinking that would be the end of it, but my wife had other ideas.
She looked up at him and, without hesitation, said, “If you’re horny, you can take him as a substitute.” My stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but she was dead serious.
He smirked, offering me a shot of Fireball too. I took it, thinking maybe it would calm my nerves. After a few drinks, he walked over to me, standing tall, and without a word, he pulled out his cock. He looked me in the eye and simply said, “Suck.”
I froze for a second, but then my wife, from her spot on the bed, rolled over and whispered, “Do it for me, honey.” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Reluctantly, I leaned forward, my heart pounding, and slowly took him into my mouth. His size took me by surprise, and the humiliation of it all—the fact that my wife was right there, watching—made the moment even more intense.
He seemed to enjoy it. Before long, I was completely naked, bent over the edge of the bed. He positioned himself behind me, and with one powerful thrust, he was inside me. I gritted my teeth, the shock of it all overwhelming. My wife, lying feet away, reached over, running her hand through my hair. “Breathe deeply,” she said softly, as if she were trying to soothe me. But that only made it worse—her watching, her words, the whole situation.
He didn’t hold back. He fucked me hard, deep, relentless. Every thrust made me feel smaller, more vulnerable, until he finally came, exploding inside me. I felt every bit of it, the humiliation settling deep into my bones.
Even now, my wife still talks about that weekend, reminding me of how much she enjoyed seeing me as her surrogate. It’s a memory that sticks, one that reshaped everything I thought I knew about myself, about us.
7. My Bully Love
Growing up, there was always this one kid I couldn’t help but envy. You know the type—better at everything, from sports to school, and with a picture-perfect family that made mine look like a mess by comparison. He even had the kind of house you’d see in magazines. I couldn’t stand him, honestly. And as if life wanted to twist the knife even deeper, he ended up being part of one of the most humiliating experiences I’ve ever had.
See, my first girlfriend had her own wild streak. It wasn’t something I minded at first, but the day I found out about her past with him, that was a different story. Turns out, less than a year before I met her, this guy had taken her virginity. I mean, it wasn’t like they had this deep connection or anything—he was just in it for the sex, and she, despite liking him, was left with nothing but that. Meanwhile, I, being the overly devoted fool that I was, threw myself into our relationship the moment we started dating. Knowing he’d been with her first was a bitter pill to swallow.
But things took an even more unexpected turn about a year and a half into our relationship. One day, out of the blue, she told me he’d reached out to her. He wanted her again—this time for casual sex, no strings attached. He knew damn well we were in a serious relationship, yet he didn’t care. He wanted her, plain and simple. And you know what? She came to me to ask what I thought about it. I remember that moment clearly—her eyes searching mine, like she was waiting for me to say something that would make it all go away.
But I wasn’t naive. I knew she wouldn’t have brought it up if she wasn’t already considering it. So, what did I do? I gave her the green light. It was a gut punch, no doubt, but in my twisted logic, I figured I’d rather have her come to me openly than sneak around behind my back.
For the next six to eight months, she ended up hooking up with him a good 10-15 times. He was her go-to until he finally went off to college, and just like that, he was out of the picture again. As for me? I stayed. And here’s the fact—we’ve now been married for over 25 years.
It’s funny how life works out sometimes. That chapter is long behind us, but it still lingers in the back of my mind every now and then, a strange reminder of how messy, complicated, and, yes, bullying love can be. But I guess in the end, we made it work.
8. She & Her Friend Bullied Me
There was this one night that’s still seared into my mind—one of those moments where everything feels like it’s spinning, but in a way that leaves you both humiliated and, oddly enough, turned on at the same time. My wife had a date lined up with a close friend of ours, Tom, and we invited him over for a drink beforehand. The plan was simple: a quick social drink before she and her date went out for dinner. But, as with most things in our relationship, the evening took an unexpected turn.
She came downstairs dressed to the nines, wearing this insanely tight, short skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places. It was the kind of outfit that bordered on scandalous—sexy, revealing, and practically screaming for attention. As they were about to head out the door, she paused for a second, looked over her shoulder, and casually dropped the bomb.
“Honey,” she said, with a playful smirk, “while we’re at dinner, could you change the sheets on our bed? Tom and I are going to have wild sex when we get back.”
I stood there, trying to process what she had just said. But before I could even wrap my head around it, she added, “Oh, and I’ll ask Tom if he doesn’t mind if you watch him fuck me.” The words hung in the air, heavy and loaded, as Tom stood there, grinning. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt this strange mix of bully and excitement wash over me. There was something about her saying it, right in front of him, that made the whole thing even more intense.
I won’t lie—it aroused me in ways I didn’t expect. That verbal humiliation? It’s like a switch for me. And she knows it.
It doesn’t stop there, though. Sometimes, when I watch her with other men, they join in on the fun, verbally cutting me down as they take her. I remember one time in particular—this guy was fucking her, looking straight at me while he did it. He sneered and said, “Your wife’s surprisingly tight for a whore.” The words hit me like a slap to the face, but instead of anger, all I felt was a deeper surge of arousal. There’s something about hearing those kinds of things, right in front of me, that pulls me deeper into the whole experience.
It’s a strange dynamic, but it works for us. That verbal edge, the humiliation—it’s not only part of the scene. It’s the core of it. Every time it happens, I’m reminded how powerful words can be, especially when they cut right to the bone in front of someone else. It’s intense, and yeah, it’s what keeps the fire burning for me.
I captured a moment: They Bullied Me
9. My Partner, Her Lover, and Me
One evening, my partner went out with her old friend Ren, someone she’s known for years. Although she’s cuckolded me with other men before, Ren had always been off-limits. She didn’t want to mess up their friendship, and I respected that. But recently, she started talking more openly about a particular fantasy—one where I would be sexually bullied by another man while she watched. It struck a chord with me because, in a strange way, I’d been there before. I had confided in her about my past, revealing how I had experienced something similar. And, perhaps more vulnerably, I admitted that I fantasized about Ren dominating me, following her instructions, and that I often felt an unexpected attraction when he was around.
That night, after their trip to the cinema, they came back to our place. I wasn’t expecting anything unusual, a typical evening. But when she walked in and Ren followed closely behind, something felt different. I gave her a hug as I always do, and then Ren, as usual, came over to hug me too. But this time, instead of the casual, friendly embrace, he didn’t let go after the usual few seconds. His body pressed into mine, and I felt it—his firm bulge through his jeans, pushing into me. My heart raced.
He didn’t stop there. He began moving ever so slightly, his groin rubbing against mine, his bulge pressing into me in a way that made my breath catch. I could feel myself responding, getting hard under the pressure of his large, firm cock. He laughed—a low, amused chuckle. Turning to my partner, he smirked, “You’re right, he’s getting hard for me.” The humiliation hit me hard. I instinctively tried to pull away, but as I did, without warning, he brought his knee up between my legs, slamming into my balls with a firm, calculated force.
The initial sting shot through me, and I let out a small cry. But it wasn’t the worst of it. That deep, throbbing ache began to build in my stomach, and I groaned, my knees buckling as I dropped to the floor in front of them. I heard their laughter echo around me as I lay there, powerless and humiliated.
They didn’t stop to console me or check on how I was feeling. Instead, they went upstairs, leaving me there on the floor, recovering from the pain. After a few minutes, Ren called out, telling me to join them in the bedroom. My stomach twisted in knots as I made my way upstairs. When I entered the room, I saw her on all fours, with Ren behind her, already sliding inside her, making her gasp with pleasure. The sight of him, his body tensing and moving with hers, was a mix of everything I feared and desired.
“Get behind me,” he commanded, his voice low but firm. “Kiss my ass.” I hesitated, but not for long. I obeyed. I kissed him, feeling the heat and tension in his body, and then he pushed my face deeper into his arse crack. “Lick it,” he said. I did, tasting the salt and sweat, and then he groaned, “Push your tongue inside me.”
I complied, feeling his body shudder as he thrust deeper into her, groaning as he came. The room was thick with the sounds of their pleasure, and I felt every ounce of my own humiliation as I knelt behind him, doing exactly as he said. When he was finished, he rolled me onto my back, and she climbed on top of me, straddling my face. I was tasked with cleaning his cum from her, my tongue working its way through the mix of their combined fluids.
After he finished, Ren left without another word. Since that night, every time he comes over—which is about twice a week—I’m expected to suck him off in front of her. Sometimes, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll stroke me off too, but it never takes long. My humiliation is quick, efficient, and ongoing. It’s strange how things have evolved, but here we are—my partner, her lover, and me, all locked in this strange dynamic that I never saw coming.
Ren even fucked her hard in the car while I was driving. See the video: My Partner, Her Lover, and Me
10. I’m locked in a chastity belt
Here’s a wild story about one night that, well, got way more intense than I could have ever imagined. It all started with a simple request from my wife—she wanted to watch me use a suction cup dildo on myself. Yeah, I know, not exactly your everyday activity, but when she asks, I usually go with it. This time though, she had her best friend over, and things escalated real quick.
So, there I was, in front of both of them, following her request. At first, it was about her watching, but then her friend decided to pull out her phone and start recording. Immediately, I was like, “No, don’t.” But before I could do anything about it, my wife stood up, grabbed me by the neck, and pushed me all the way back onto the dildo, which, to be honest, hurt like hell. She leaned down, her voice low but firm, and said, “It’s her camera, she can do what she wants. Now apologize.”
I apologized, feeling a rush of both bully and something else I couldn’t quite describe at that moment. Her friend kept filming, and I knew it wasn’t for fun. My wife was already using it as leverage, and I knew she’d probably shown it to a few people already. That added to the whole humiliating experience, especially when her friend, between fits of laughter, said, “Oh my God, I can’t believe this!”
I went on for what felt like forever, while they whispered, laughed, and kept recording. It was 10 minutes of intense, mind-bending humiliation. And yet, somehow, that twisted, nervous energy turned into a weird kind of rush. When my wife finally told me it was enough, I felt equal parts relieved and somehow… electrified.
Her friend hasn’t stopped bugging my wife to peg me herself. I’ve been acting like I don’t want it to happen, but the truth? I’m secretly dying for it. The idea of her doing it sends a thrill down my spine. It’s like a forbidden desire that I can’t stop thinking about, but I have to play it cool. 😅
Oh, and did I mention I’m locked in a chastity belt? Yeah, that’s been my reality for over two and a half months now. No sex, no release, just me, my thoughts, and my wife’s constant reminders of how much power she holds. Her friend knows about the chastity too—she’s seen it a couple of times, and even joked, “I bet he’s rocking her world right now. How does that make you feel?” Every time she says that, I nod and tell her, “I hope he is.”
Honestly, I’ve learned to love the chastity, as strange as it sounds. During the moment, yeah, it’s nerve-wracking, but afterward, there’s this intense feeling of submission and thrill that I can’t get enough of. My wife loves to remind me of the clicking sound the lock makes while she’s pegging me, and that sound alone has become its own kind of twisted rush.
She’s spending more time with her boyfriend now, and I’ve become something of a housekeeper to make sure she can enjoy that time without worrying about chores. I actually love hearing her stories about him. She told me just recently that she loves him now, and that I better continue doing exactly what I’m told.
And, you know what? I’m all in. The thought of her friend pegging me, or her giving her friend complete control over me, it’s all I can think about. The other day, while my wife was with her boyfriend, her friend came over. She couldn’t help but tease me, saying, “He’s rocking her world right now.” All I could say was, “I hope he is.” It’s humiliating, intense. And it’s become something I crave more and more.
Few Words
Stories like these aren’t only about the plot twists—they’re about the emotions, the tension, and those moments that make you pause and reflect (or blush, let’s be honest). So, thanks for taking the journey with me.
Now, go on, share your thoughts, recommend a story, or let me know if one of these gave you a little “OMG” moment. I promise, there’s always more where that came from. 😉 Until next time, keep reading, keep exploring, and, most importantly, keep being unapologetically curious. ✨📚
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