Welcome to a space where fantasy meets reality, where the tales are as exciting as the people who lived them. Whether you stumbled here by accident (hi, new friend!) or you’re a regular explorer of life’s more unconventional narratives, you’re in for a hot treat. 🍬
In this post, I’m opening the doors to a world of Femdom cuckold stories — each one shared by someone brave enough to pull back the curtain on their most intimate experiences. These are windows into the emotions, connections, and sometimes even the delightful chaos that comes with exploring kink and trust.
What makes this special? These are real stories. Yep, you read that right. Folks from all over have sent these through email, giving me permission to share their journeys. So, pour yourself a drink, cozy up, and let’s see the fascinating lives of others. 🛋️✨
7 Femdom Cuckold Stories With Shared Attachments
Before you jump into these captivating stories, let’s have a little heart-to-heart. 💬 These aren’t your run-of-the-mill bedtime tales (unless your bedtime includes a side of spice and introspection, no judgment!). They are real experiences from real people, so approach them with an open mind and a sense of curiosity. You might find yourself nodding along, laughing out loud, or even going, “Wait, people really do that?!” And that’s okay! These stories are as much about understanding different perspectives as they are about kink and relationships. Ready? Let’s go! 🚀
1. How I Became Her Slave On Anniversary
Let me tell you about our third wedding anniversary. Kathy and I had decided to shake things up. You see, she didn’t want the usual gifts, like the fancy earrings I gave her last year or the shirts she gifted me. Instead, she had this wild idea: “Let’s get each other whatever we ask for, no questions asked.”
Now, me being a sucker for tradition, I was thinking along the lines of leather gifts—after all, it was our third anniversary, and leather is the customary gift. So, as I was driving home from work, I was planning to ask for something simple, maybe a cool leather jacket. But then, you know, a cheeky thought crossed my mind, and I figured, “Eh, why not go a little wild and ask for something like, I don’t know, leather boots or lingerie for her?”
I step through the front door, and boom, the smell of cooking hits me. Mmm, homemade dinner, yes! Kathy must’ve left work early to cook for us. Sweet, right? I make my way to the kitchen, and there she is, sitting at the table in this long overcoat, looking all mysterious and mischievous. Her legs are tucked under her, and there’s this sly grin on her face.
I raise an eyebrow and ask, “So, have you decided what you want for the anniversary?”
With a gleam in her eye, she shoots back, “Oh, I already have what I want. But have you decided?”
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling a bit bashful. “I was thinking maybe a leather jacket for myself or, if you’re feeling adventurous, maybe something for you, like leather lingerie or boots?”
Kathy smirks, stands up, and that’s when I notice: she’s wearing these killer black leather stiletto boots. My jaw practically hits the floor. But wait, it gets better. She opens her coat, and—oh, man—there she is, decked out in a black leather corset, garter belt, stockings, the whole nine yards. I’m talking full dominatrix vibes. I’m standing there like, wait, what?!
“Uh… what the…?” I manage to stutter.
And then, without missing a beat, Kathy commands, “Shut up. Get down on your knees. Now.”
My brain’s still catching up, like, Is this for real? But her tone—sharp, authoritative—it’s clear she means business. So, down on my knees, I go. My heart’s pounding out of my chest. I’ve never been in this kind of situation before. All those fantasies I kept locked away, thinking she’d never get it? Well, surprise, surprise, she knew. She knew everything.
“I know about the dominatrix,” she says, her voice dripping with accusation. My stomach sinks. How does she know? I’ve been so careful. And then it gets worse.
“And I’ve been talking to Penny,” she says. Penny? Oh crap. How does she know about Penny?
Before I can even process it, she pulls out—wait for it—divorce papers. Yeah. She looks me dead in the eyes and tells me that if I don’t do exactly as she says, I’ll be signing those papers faster than I can say “anniversary.”
My head’s spinning at this point. I mean, I love Kathy. I never meant for things to get so complicated, but here we are, me on my knees, her holding all the cards, and Penny’s name hanging in the air like a ticking time bomb.
“From now on,” she says, “you are my slave. You will do whatever I say, or these papers go straight to the lawyer. Got it?”
What can I say? I’m trapped. I manage a shaky, “Yes, Mistress.”
And then it keeps escalating. Kathy’s full-on in charge now. She’s giving orders, I’m following like a lost puppy, and then—this part’s still hard to believe—she pulls out a chastity device. Yeah, she locks me up and basically says, “You’ll be wearing this from now on. No exceptions.”
By this point, I’m just trying to keep up. She’s throwing around insults, making me lick her boots—like, I’m literally licking her boots. The power shift is surreal, but the most shocking part? Some twisted part of me is into it. Yeah, I know, weird, right?
So, after this whole bizarre boot-licking ritual, she throws me one last curveball. “I’m going out,” she says, all casual. “You’ll eat dinner on the floor, clean up, and then wait in the cage for me.”
Cage? What cage?! Turns out, she’s serious. She’s got this literal metal cage set up in our bedroom, and guess who gets to sleep in it? Yours truly.
I wait in that cramped thing for hours, my mind racing. Where did this all come from? Is this our life now? And what does she mean by a reward? Part of me is terrified, but another part is intrigued, even excited. My thoughts go all over the place. Is this some weird test? Is she punishing me for Penny? Or is she really into this dominatrix thing?
Finally, hours later, she comes home, and… well, she’s not alone. Yeah, she brings a young guy back with her. Tall, handsome, the whole package. And you know what? She tells me, with this wicked grin, that my “reward” for being so obedient is that I get to watch while this guy… you know… pleases her.
Let me tell you, that was a whole new level of humiliation, but at this point, I was so deep into the role she’d cast me in, I didn’t even resist. It was like I had no choice. Kathy was in control, and I was along for the ride, wherever it took me.
Looking back, I still can’t wrap my head around how our anniversary turned into that. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that when Kathy says she wants something different, you better buckle up, because it’s going to be wild.
So, yeah, after the young guy walked in, my stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I mean, this was our anniversary, for crying out loud! I had pictured a cozy dinner, maybe a glass of wine, some light banter, and romance. Instead, here I am, locked in a cage, while some younger, better-looking dude is standing in my bedroom, stripping down because my wife told him to.
Kathy, sitting on the bed with this smug smile on her face, motions to him without saying a word, and he knows what to do. He strips, and yeah, I won’t lie, I was feeling inadequate. The guy was built like an athlete, the kind of guy you see in those cologne ads—toned, tanned, all that. I’m sitting there, locked up, feeling like the world’s biggest chump.
I tried to keep my eyes down, like Kathy had trained me earlier. But part of me—no, all of me—wanted to look up. Wanted to watch. There’s this pull, this strange, twisted curiosity that had taken over, like, Is this really happening? And yeah, it was.
The young guy, who Kathy now refers to as “man,” kneels at her feet, and she tells him to take off her boots. There’s this… tension in the air. It’s like the whole room was buzzing, but in a weird, electric way. He slips her boots off slowly, like he’s handling some kind of priceless artifact, and then Kathy gives him the command: “Worship them.”
And this guy—he just dives in. Like, full-on. He’s kissing, licking, practically inhaling her feet like they’re the holy grail or something. And Kathy? She’s loving it. I can see it in her eyes, this wicked pleasure as she leans back, running her hands through his hair, totally in control.
Meanwhile, I’m still there, caged up like some kind of pet, my heart pounding in my chest. My mind’s screaming what the hell is happening?! But deep down—way deep down— I’m turned on. Yeah, I said it. It’s confusing, humiliating, but it’s also… something. Something I can’t even describe.
After what feels like an eternity, Kathy snaps her fingers, and the guy stops licking her feet, panting like a puppy. She commands him to strip her panties off, and he does it, so eager, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment. And then she shoves his face between her legs, and I can see it—her pleasure, the way she’s gasping, grinding against him. My head’s spinning. This is my wife. This is our anniversary. And she’s having the time of her life.
And the guy? He’s lapping it up like his life depends on it. Kathy’s moaning, pulling his face closer, and I can’t help but feel… helpless. And weirdly, that helplessness—that submission—it’s doing things to me. I can feel the tightness of the chastity device as my own body reacts, but there’s no relief. None. Just tension building and building.
Then, as suddenly as it started, it’s over. Kathy pushes him away, panting, smiling, her body glowing with satisfaction. She turns to me, her eyes gleaming with that mischievous spark I’d seen earlier.
“Well, well,” she says, almost mockingly. “Look at you, all locked up and obedient. I bet you’re wondering what your reward is now, aren’t you?”
Before I can even think about responding, she points to the young guy and says, “Come here, man. You’ve earned your release, haven’t you?”
He nods eagerly, clearly at the edge of his limits, and she smirks, turning to me. “Ren, darling,” she says, her voice dripping with condescension, “open your mouth.”
My heart stops. No way. There’s no way she’s about to do what I think she’s about to do. But, of course, this is Kathy we’re talking about, and tonight? Tonight, she’s in charge. Completely.
“Open your mouth, slave,” she repeats, more firmly this time.
My mouth goes dry, but I obey. I mean, what else can I do at this point? She’s got me locked up, emotionally and physically. I part my lips, and before I know it, this guy’s standing in front of me, his hard cock inches from my face.
“Fuck my little slut’s mouth,” Kathy commands, her tone light, almost playful. “And don’t you dare come until I say so.”
The young guy, his face full of hesitation and lust, grabs the back of my head and pushes forward. And yeah, it happens. The most humiliating, degrading moment of my life. He thrusts into my mouth, and I take it. My mind’s screaming, this is insane, but my body? My body’s reacting in ways I never expected. It’s like every twisted fantasy I never knew I had is playing out in real time.
Kathy’s laughing, watching, her eyes shining with this raw, primal excitement. She tells the guy to keep going, harder, faster, and I feel him building, getting closer and closer to the edge. And then—boom—it happens. He comes, and I take it all, every last drop, swallowing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. But more than that, I can’t believe how much I want to please her. Even now, even after everything, all I want is for her to be happy, to be satisfied. And for whatever reason, in this crazy, upside-down world we’ve created, this is what does it.
When it’s all over, the guy steps back, looking a little dazed, and Kathy grins at me. “You did well, Ren,” she says softly, almost affectionately. “Maybe you’re finally learning your place.”
And that’s it. That’s the end of our wild, twisted anniversary night. The guy gets dressed and leaves, and Kathy locks me back in the cage. My mind is racing, my body aching, and yet, all I can think about is her. About how much I still love her. About how I’d do anything to keep her happy, no matter what.
I realize something: this is the new normal. And as crazy as it sounds… I’m okay with it. Because, at the end of the day, I’m still hers. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Watch our recorded clip: How I Became Her Slave On Anniversary
2. Now, I’m A Complete Cuckold Servant
I was 38, my wife 35, when this all went down. We were off on a vacation to Goa, planning to stay with her cousin, Robin. He was a bachelor, a student, living alone. It seemed like the perfect setup for a week of relaxing.
The trip started smoothly enough. We arrived at the airport, and there he was, waiting for us. My wife spotted him first. Her face lit up with joy, and before I knew it, she had thrown her bag at me and ran to embrace him. There they stood, wrapped up in each other, completely absorbed in their reunion. She kissed him on the cheek and laughed, “Robin, it’s been what, 5 or 6 years?”
I watched, feeling like a third wheel. It was as if I wasn’t even there. They walked off together, arms still around each other, heading for the car. Robin had a nice ride, and he graciously opened the doors for us. My wife didn’t miss a beat. She slid into the backseat and insisted Robin join her. “You drive,” she said, handing me the keys with a grin, “We have a lot to catch up on.”
And so, I became the chauffeur, driving as they giggled and reminisced about their pre-marriage escapades. The rearview mirror offered me an unsolicited view of Robin’s arm draped around her, his hand wandering. My wife turned to him, “Come on, give me that kiss we’ve missed for so long.” He glanced at me, unsure, but she brushed off his hesitation, “Don’t worry about him, he knows the deal. I told him before we came that this week was about us, and he’s just along for the ride.”
They kissed, passionately, as I stared ahead, feeling both out of place and somehow resigned. I had no choice but to drive on and brace for what the week might bring.
When we arrived at his place, I lugged our bags inside while they made themselves comfortable. Robin mentioned that the maid was on leave, so we’d have to handle things ourselves. My wife was quick to volunteer my cooking and cleaning skills. “He cooks great, and don’t worry, he’ll handle the laundry,” she said with a wink before disappearing into the bedroom with Robin.
As I prepared coffee, I caught a glimpse of her changing into a nighty, completely at ease in front of him. When I brought the coffee to the room, there they were, sitting on the bed, close enough that their legs were touching. My wife’s lacy nightgown revealed more than it hid, her thigh peeking out as they continued their conversation about old friends and cousins.
At one point, Robin burned his lips on the hot coffee, and without missing a beat, my wife leaned in and kissed him, cooling his lips in a way that left no room for ambiguity. Their kiss lingered, and I stood awkwardly, unsure of my place but unable to leave.
She instructed me to put their clothes in the washing machine and start breakfast. I followed orders, trying to distract myself, but when I returned, I saw something that made my heart race. There she was, bare-chested, as Robin lavished attention on her. Her moans filled the room, her hands exploring his body, and I was an observer, not a participant. It was clear that this week would be unlike anything I had imagined.
She saw me watching (doggy position) and teased, “Look at him, his cock (8 inch) is bigger than yours. Today, I’m taking him.” She made me strip Robin’s briefs, and his cock sprang free. She slid into a position I’d only seen in fantasies, holding him in her hand, her tongue teasing him, while she ordered me to prepare her. At this point, she had performed oral sex on him, leaving his semen on her cheeks and his stomach. She instructed me to fetch a cloth napkin to clean it off her cheek as well as his stomach and thigh.
She began caressing him, and before long, he was fully aroused, reaching his impressive 8-inch length. “Come on, we’re going to have sex now, and you can just watch,” she said. He entered her, and she let out a cry that mingled pain with pleasure. He began with slow thrusts, gradually picking up the pace. We might require your assistance.
I obeyed, not out of desire, but because this was my role now. I felt a strange mix of emotions—jealousy, arousal, and acceptance. As she moaned in pleasure, the room became a playground of their desires. I was only a part of the scenery, fulfilling whatever tasks she demanded of me.
By the time the washing machine beeped, it felt like the least significant thing in the world. The week played out in a surreal mix of servitude, lust, and submission. Robin stayed with us after he was transferred to our city, and things didn’t go back to normal. In fact, they never would. I had grown used to my new role, one that started with that kiss at the airport and ended with me serving in ways I never imagined. Now my wife treating me like a complete cuckold servant to her cousin’s boyfriend.
3. A Tale of Lust and Submission
My husband was such a gem, helping me into my hose, skirt, top, and shoes. I could’ve gotten used to this, honestly. “Now, go get yourself ready,” I told him, still fussing with my hair in front of the mirror. He slipped into his dress khakis and a crisp white shirt, looking pretty damn good if I’m being honest. When he came back, he stood there, staring at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and, yeah, I had to stop. I kissed him softly and told him I loved him. Really, I meant it. “I’m doing all this because I want to, but it’s what you want too, right?” He nodded, eyes full of love. He told me something that stuck with me – that when he submits to me, it’s not only physical; it’s primal, spiritual, like he feels this intense love. I mean, wow, right? Who knew surrendering could feel so deep?
I handed him a necklace, the one we’d bought together, and told him I was wearing it tonight for him to always remember this moment. He kissed it and put it around my neck like we were sealing some unspoken deal.
“Go open the wine, set out the glasses,” I instructed. He shuffled off to the kitchen, and I took one last look at myself in the mirror. Showtime.
The doorbell rang. Oh, Alex’s here. My husband opened the door, and there was this brief, casual handshake. Alex wasn’t a stranger; they’d met at that charity party where I first noticed him. But tonight? Yeah, different vibes altogether.
I strolled out, greeted Alex with a small kiss, and damn, did he look good. Sharp in his wool slacks, that tight black shirt showing off enough, and the autumn-colored sport coat to top it off. I smiled. “Pour the wine,” I said to my husband. I was enjoying this little dance, the power of it all.
We all moved to the living room – my boys and me. I sat on the couch with Alex, cozy and confident, while my husband took the high-backed chair across from us. This was the moment I needed clarity. I asked my husband to explain things again. I wanted no confusion. Nervously, he explained how our marriage was female-led, how he chooses to submit, and how I had every right to take other lovers. He admitted that he wanted this to happen, that it wasn’t only about me. And, well, if we allowed it, he’d even like to… participate. How’s that for vulnerability?
I told him to kneel. I looked at Alex, who gave me the go-ahead. We’d already planned for my husband’s involvement, but I loved making it feel spontaneous. Alex and I kissed, his hands sliding under my skirt, teasing. I asked if we were still on for dinner first, and Alex’s enthusiasm was all the confirmation I needed.
Then came my little dramatic flair. I licked the rim of my wine glass, drawing all the attention, and handed it down to my husband. “One last chance,” I teased. “Any doubts?” He knew what this meant. Sip the wine, and there’s no going back. He took it, sealing his fate.
We left for dinner with my husband still on his knees. But don’t worry, I let him know before we walked out: when we get back, Alex’s going to fuck me.
Dinner was nice, but let’s skip to the good part, yeah? We returned home around 10:30, and my husband had set the scene. Music I didn’t recognize filled the room – something dark, jazzy, perfect. Candles flickered in the dim light, and there was this trail of white rose petals leading us to the bedroom. Romantic, right? And then it switched to red petals, circling the bed in a haphazard, brownie-batter swirl. My husband knelt by the bed, holding a glass of wine, head bowed, waiting for us.
Alex took the glass, sipped, and handed it to me to finish. Then, he took me in his arms and started undressing me, but I stopped him. “No, let him do it,” I said, giving my husband a chance to savor these last moments with me. He undressed me with such care, planting kisses on my thighs, feet, as if this was the last time he’d ever touch me like this. I stroked his hair, reassuring him without words.
When I was bare except for the necklace, I laid down on the bed, and Alex returned. Alex, with his athletic body and that cock, semi-hard but gorgeous. Larger than my husband’s, and I couldn’t help but admire it as he approached.
He kissed me, his mouth trailing down my body as I started pleasuring myself. His hand joined mine, guiding me, amplifying the sensation. My husband watched, transfixed, as I lost myself in Alex’s touch.
Then, I wanted more. I wanted to taste him. It had been so long since I’d put a cock in my mouth, and I was suddenly ravenous for it. Alex positioned himself perfectly for me, and I licked him from base to tip, taking him fully into my mouth. My husband watched as I worked, and I couldn’t resist shooting him a wicked smile before returning to my task.
When Alex was ready, he moved onto the bed, his knees between my legs, and I held out my hand for my husband. “Help him,” I commanded. My husband took Alex’s cock in his hand, guiding it to me with surprising ease, like this was exactly where he belonged. “Tell him,” I said.
“I want you inside her,” he whispered.
“So be it,” Alex replied, and with that, he thrust deep into me.
It was primal, everything I had hoped for. Alex’s cock filled me, and I let go of everything else. My body responded to him, orgasm after orgasm shaking me to my core. I pulled at his chest hair, clawed at his skin, desperate for more. Alex’s climax hit hard, and I could feel him pulsing inside me, his body shuddering with release.
And then, there was a gentle kiss on my forehead. It wasn’t Alex. My husband had moved beside me, tenderly stroking my hair, kissing me softly. “I love you,” I whispered.
He kissed me deeply, his mouth tasting of wine and devotion. I guided his head between my legs, where Alex’s cum still lingered, and my husband finished what Alex had started, bringing me to new heights with his mouth.
Alex returned, and I smiled. “Cuckold,” I said, “my lover is back. Sleep on the floor beside us. We’ll need you again in the morning.”
With that, I drifted into sleep. But I’m sure my cuckold didn’t.
My Hubby Watched Our Sex: A Tale of Lust and Submission
4. Dominated Desires: The Cuckold’s Surrender
My wife, Rema, and I have been living in a wild, sexually charged, denied cuckold marriage for years. Yup, you read that right. We were pretty open about it all, and she had her fun with various guys whenever the mood struck her. And honestly, I was cool with it. It was our thing. I mean, it kept the spice alive for her, and, I’ve always had a thing for that whole humiliation kink. But let me tell you, things took a wild turn after we moved.
It wasn’t long after the move that I noticed something was off. I started finding bruises and carpet burns on Rema—pretty obvious signs that she was getting into some serious action, and I had no clue about it. So, naturally, I confronted her. Big mistake. She was pissed, like really pissed. She snapped at me, told me to “fuck off,” and left me standing there while she got ready for her date with John. Yep, there was already a new guy in the picture.
So, I’m sitting on the couch, trying to process all this, and out she comes, looking like an absolute goddess. She’s rocking this short, red-hot dress with those “fuck me” heels, showing off her silky legs. Did I mention? No bra. Yeah, her nipples were making themselves known through the fabric. I was dumbstruck, my mouth literally hanging open. She saw my reaction and smirked. “Close your mouth,” she said, and then hit me with, “Do you really think you could ever satisfy me?” Ouch. That one stung, but I couldn’t lie to myself. I muttered a weak “no.”
That’s when she laid it all out: things were changing. I could either suck it up and be her obedient little cuckold or be kicked to the curb. She even threw in the “honor” of cleaning her up after her escapades. How generous, right? But hey, I wasn’t about to lose her. I nodded along like a good boy, even though it hurt. And to drive it home, she asked, “Do you think I’m going to stay married to a man who can’t make me happy?” Then, without another word, she stormed out, off to meet John.
A few hours later, I’m sitting there in my pink lacy baby doll outfit, feeling all kinds of emotions, when I hear the front door unlock. I jump up, turn off the TV, and rush to the door. But instead of Rema, this towering, well-built guy walks in. I’m talking 6’4”, solid muscle, and he stares down at me. Enter John. My wife comes in behind him, smirking, and introduces us. “Cuckold Andrew, meet John, my bull.” Yeah, that was how she put it. No sugar-coating.
Then she drops the bomb. John wasn’t only her new lover. He was in charge now. Of both of us. Yup, I was now part of a new dynamic where John called the shots, and I was the beta. What choice did I have? I agreed, of course.
He wasted no time. He turned to Rema and ordered, “Get on your knees, you fucking cunt, and start sucking my cock.” My wife dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants, and out came…it was huge. I mean, I was going crazy watching her take that monster in her mouth like she’d been waiting for it all night. But John, being the charming guy he is, wasn’t satisfied. “Bitch, you know I like my balls sucked,” he growled and slapped her hard across the face. She didn’t miss a beat, though. She quickly recovered and got to work on his massive balls, licking and sucking like a pro.
The tension in the room was electric, and his cock kept growing, reaching a solid 8 inches of pure intimidation. John grabbed her head, forcing her to take him even deeper, making her gag. I could see her struggling, but before I could react, he let go, and she fell back, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. He looked at me, eyes dark, and barked, “Why the fuck are you still standing?” Before I could even respond, he punched me hard in the stomach, and down I went, groaning in pain.
Things escalated fast. John dragged my wife by the hair to the dining room table, and when they got there, he slammed her down onto the surface. “Get over here and lift her dress,” he ordered me. I scrambled over, doing exactly what he said, exposing my wife’s perfectly round ass. Then came the real kicker: he told me to lube her up for him. Tongue first.
I won’t lie, it was surreal. There I was, face-to-ass with my wife, licking her asshole to prepare her for what was about to come. And Rema? She moaned in pleasure. After a few minutes, John decided it was his turn. “That’s enough, faggot. Lube my cock.” And like the obedient cuckold I was, I did. His cock was massive, but I did my best to get it ready.
Then came the moment I’d both dreaded and anticipated. John lined up his cock with Rema’s asshole and started working it in. At first, she moaned softly, but when he shoved the whole thing in, she gasped in pain. He didn’t hold back. He gripped her hips and started pounding into her hard. Her initial pain turned into pleasure, and soon enough, she was moaning with every thrust. I could barely keep it together watching this guy fuck my wife’s ass so hard, his balls slapping against her with every stroke.
John’s pace quickened, and I knew he was getting close. He thrust deep into her one final time and let out a guttural moan as he came, filling her up. It was intense, well, exactly what Rema wanted.
But it didn’t end there. John turned to me and said, “You know what to do. Get over here and clean her up.” And like the good little cuck I was, I did. I licked up every drop of cum that was leaking from her still-gaping asshole. It was a lot, but I didn’t dare spill a single drop.
Once I was done, Rema and John shared a passionate kiss, and she whispered that she loved it. She even told John he could be rougher with me next time, which he happily agreed to. With that, John left, and Rema looked at me with that same smirk. “I told you things were going to change. If you don’t like it, get out.”
Then she walked off to our bedroom, leaving me there, in my pink baby doll outfit, with the taste of her freshly fucked ass still in my mouth. And honestly? I was in heaven.
Watch The Clip: The Cuckold’s Surrender
5. I am completely humiliated by my wife
It’s a Friday evening. Neha, my wife, is standing in front of the mirror in our enormous master bedroom, getting ready for her big night out with the girls. She’s wrapped in this thin, chiffon sari, you know the kind—so sheer that you can see every curve and detail. Her stomach’s on full display, and that tiny diamond stud in her belly button? Yeah, it’s gleaming like a damn star. The sari’s tight, practically molded to her body. She smiles at herself, checking her reflection, like she’s trying to decide on the perfect lipstick shade.
And then there’s me. Oh yeah, me. I’m in quite the position: legs spread apart, bent over a tall chair with the cushion pressing into my stomach. My hands are tied to the chair legs, my face smushed against the seat, and my butt sticking high in the air like an invitation. It’s not my finest moment. My dick and balls are hanging there, completely exposed, and every now and then, Neha gives me a little teasing rub as she brushes her hair. Yeah, casual, you know?
But for now, she’s focused on her makeup. And then, suddenly—
“Rambo!” She snaps.
“Yes, dear,” I say, because, well, that’s what you do when you’re in this position, right? Always respectful, always obedient.
She turns to look at me, smirking. “My gosh!” she says with a laugh. “You look like a pathetic fuck.”
“Yes, dear,” I mumble, feeling my face heat up, though I keep my cool. It’s part of the game, after all.
SMACK! SMACK! Out of nowhere, she gives my butt a couple of hard slaps, like a little wake-up call. Then, without missing a beat, she goes back to her mascara, completely unfazed.
“I like you like this,” she says casually, brushing her lashes. “Such an inadequate loser, sitting there with your ass in the air.”
I keep my mouth shut because, well, what else am I gonna say? Neha finishes with the mascara, then spins around and grabs hold of my dick. Yeah, that’s right, she’s got me in her grip now. “Want me to stroke this pathetic little wiener?” she teases, pulling it back and forth slowly. Her voice has that mix of sweetness and venom.
“Yes, dear,” I croak, my voice all shaky. God, why do I sound so weak?
She laughs, turning her back to me while still holding onto my manhood. With her free hand, she picks out an eyeshadow palette, multitasking like a pro. “I’m heading out with the girls tonight,” she announces, nonchalantly stroking me like it’s no big deal. “Gonna have some fun. Maybe find some real men while I’m at it.”
“Y-yes, dear,” I manage to say, even though her words hit a little harder than I’d like to admit.
“Not like you,” she continues, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Look at you. What a sight. Enjoying yourself with your butt up in the air?”
“Yes, dear,” I reply, swallowing my pride.
“Good.” Her grip tightens enough to send a jolt through me. She’s still taunting me, still playing with me like I’m some kind of toy. “I’m going to rub this little cock of yours, but don’t you dare cum, do you hear me?”
“Yes, dear,” I answer, trying not to let the tension show too much. She’s serious, I know it.
“And if you do,” she says, lowering her voice, “I’ll give you a proper beating like a naughty schoolboy. Do you understand me, you disgusting piece of shit?”
“Yes, dear,” I whisper. The humiliation is thick in the air now, almost tangible.
She teases me with her thumb, pressing it right against the sensitive tip of my cock, sending little waves of pleasure and anxiety crashing through me. But then, mercifully, she lets go, turning back to the mirror to finish her makeup.
Now, here’s the thing. I’m hard. Really hard. The whole setup, the submissive position, the teasing, and the taunts—it’s all got me worked up. I’m this high-ranking engineer, respected by my peers, and here I am, completely humiliated by my petite wife. And yet, it’s doing something to me.
As Neha finishes her makeup, I know tonight’s just the beginning.
6. How I Convinced My Wife Into Cuckolding
I am Marko, living my typical life working at a multinational company, you know? Been there for five years, everything’s going fine. Recently, I got married. Yeah, it was an arranged one—classic story, right? Her name’s Tina (well, not really, but you get the point).
We barely knew each other when we tied the knot, so on our first night together, we didn’t exactly jump into the honeymoon action. Nope, we talked. I mean, we slept… but not like that. It was awkward, for sure.
Let me describe her for a second though. Tina—she’s stunning, seriously. Fair skin, long, silky hair, and her body? Yeah, she’s got the kind of figure that would make any guy’s head turn. But here’s the thing… for the first three months, I couldn’t even kiss her. Yep, three whole months.
I’d go to work, come home, and the most we talked was during dinner. My wife must’ve thought I was some shy, clueless dude. She’d give me signals— I saw them—but I couldn’t bring myself to… well.
Fast forward six months. We’re still distant, not much has changed, and my family starts dropping hints about kids. Like, serious hints. So, they push us to get checked out, make sure everything’s working, if you catch my drift. The test results? All normal for both of us. Great, right? Except, I still thought Tina wasn’t into it. I straight-up asked her if there was a problem.
She gave me this look, like, seriously dude? No words, the look. Ouch.
My family decided we needed some alone time, so they sent us off to our village for a little getaway. Tina was all about it, super excited, packing up her transparent sarees—yeah, the ones that leave little to the imagination. Off we went to the farmhouse, where our old family farmer Lavis and his son, Mike, were looking after the place.
The journey was kind of cute, actually. Tina held my hand and fell asleep on my shoulder on the train, maybe hoping for some romantic moment to kick off. But nope, nothing happened.
We arrived, and Lavis was there to help with our bags. Tina needed to use the restroom urgently, so she headed off to the common bathroom. Now, here’s where things start to get interesting. She opens the door and—bam!—there’s Mike, the farmer’s son, just standing there, completely naked, rubbing his 6-inch hard-on.
Tina didn’t say a word. Just stood there, watching the whole show. Mike didn’t even realize she was there, too busy scrubbing his face, completely unaware. After about five minutes of this private performance, she finally comes out like nothing happened.
And me? Well, yeah, nothing exciting for me yet.
That night, after dinner and some small talk with the locals, Tina couldn’t sleep. She decided to take a walk, and of course, I followed her. New place, you know? Don’t want her getting lost. As we’re wandering around, we hear these noises coming from the storeroom.
Curious, I peeked inside. And what do I see? Mike. Yup, the same guy from the bathroom, and he’s absolutely railing some woman in doggy style. And man, she was LOUD.
“Mike, fuck me hard… You’re a real man!” she moaned, completely wild.
Mike, grinning like a devil, shot back, “You like it, whore?”
And this woman—get this—she goes, “Yes! My husband could never fuck me like this!”
I was in shock, frozen there, watching this whole thing unfold. And then I remembered… Tina. She was right behind me, also watching. And when she caught a glimpse of Mike’s body—and his equipment—her eyes lit up.
She turned to me with this mischievous smile, like she was waiting for me to make a move. When I didn’t, she got pissed. “If a 22-year-old guy can fuck like that, why can’t you?” she snapped. “You couldn’t even kiss me after seeing that?” Double ouch.
After that, I knew I had to do something. So, two days later, I arranged for our first night together. Yeah, it took me that long. Tina was over the moon, all dolled up and ready for action. I had a little surprise planned though—blindfolds. She got even more excited.
Lights off, and things started to heat up. She could feel someone undressing her, squeezing her boobs, kissing her all over, and she loved it. “You’re so strong!” she moaned. “You’re rough… I like it.”
Except… it wasn’t me. And she didn’t know that yet.
“Don’t stop!” she gasped. “You’re making me cum by licking my pussy!”
At that point, she gave what she thought was me a blowjob, praising how big and long my “tool” was, practically begging for more. “Fuck me already!” she cried. “Enough with the foreplay… take off my blindfold.”
Me? I stayed quiet.
Then, as a hard, 6-inch cock entered her, she screamed in both pain and pleasure, loving every second of it. Finally, I removed the blindfold, and her face? Pure shock. It was Mike, not me, giving her the ride of her life while I sat off to the side, watching.
“What the fuck?! Why is he fucking me?” she screamed.
I calmly explained, “Babe, the medical report was faked. I can’t get hard, so… this is the only way.”
Her response? A mixture of pleasure and rage. She kept going, yelling at me, “You’re impotent! Why did you even marry me if you can’t fuck me? Look at him—this is how a man should fuck.”
Mike, still going at it, chimed in, “Your husband’s never touched you, has he? You’re so tight.”
Tina, panting, moaned, “Yes, Mike, please… make me yours.”
And I just sat there, watching it all unfold. Mike, meanwhile, wasn’t done yet. He turned to me, smirking, “Come here and open your mouth.”
I hesitated, but Tina? She egged me on. “Do it, sissy. You can’t do anything else.”
So, I did. I sucked Mike’s cock before he went back to fucking my wife, who was now screaming his name, totally lost in the moment.
By the end of the night, Mike had filled her up with his cum, and Tina turned to me with one last request: “Suck it all out.” And I did.
Our Sexy Moments: How I Convinced My Wife Into Cuckolding
7. My Wife Cheated On Me
This whole thing happened way too fast, and man, was it hot. Like, seriously, the kind of situation that hits you out of nowhere. I was on one of those dating cuck sites, casually looking around, chatting with a few “black bulls,” as the description goes. And that’s when I met Tom. Let me tell you, this guy checked every box I didn’t even know I had for my cute, short, and busty wife, Hannah.
Now, quick backstory here. We’ve got a pretty sweet setup in Breach Candy, you know, a nice dream home and all that. So, one day, I’m on this cuck/bulls site just casually sharing my little fantasy, not expecting anything major to come out of it. And boom, Tom pings me out of the blue.
Now, I’m curious, right? I mean, who wouldn’t be with a name like Hardcoreblackbull? I asked him for a pic because, hey, I needed to see what kind of dude we’re talking about here. And when I tell you this guy was a beast, I mean it. Tom had these broad, bulky shoulders, arms like boulders, and a hairy chest. And oh, the cherry on top? He was bald with this thick beard. Hannah has a serious soft spot for these kinds of alphas. I mean, who wouldn’t?
So, yeah, Tom and I start chatting regularly. I even share a couple of tasteful photos of Hannah—nothing too crazy, just enough to get his attention. And let me tell you, this dude might look rugged, but he’s educated, well-spoken, and had this dark brown skin tone that was bordering on black but not quite. And, honestly, it didn’t take long before we became good friends. I trusted him, and eventually, I even shared Hannah’s social media with him. It was a bit of a gamble, sure, but I had to know: would my wife fall for this stranger she’d never met in real life? It didn’t take long before she did.
At first, Tom started pinging her here and there, nothing crazy, just casual messages. She wasn’t really into it at first, because, let’s face it, chatting with random strangers online isn’t exactly her thing. But then one day, I caught her on a video call with him. That’s when I knew she was hooked. The best part? She hadn’t told me about him yet. But thanks to Tom, I got all the updates. He had this charm about him, this alpha dominance that Hannah couldn’t resist. He was funny, confident, and in control.
I had seen Tom’s dick by then. It was a monster. Over 8 inches, thick, and with a curve that I knew would be dangerous for Hannah’s tight little body. Just thinking about him breeding her made me lose track of how many times I jerked off.
Finally, the big day came. Tom was going to meet Hannah. I was a mix of jealous, excited, and very turned on. Like, my emotions were all over the place. How would they interact? Would they flirt? Would Tom take my wife to bed and give her the fucking of her life?
That Friday, Hannah told me she had a girls’ night out planned. Uh-huh, sure. She said she was going to her friend’s place, but I knew better. I even helped her pick out her outfit—this skimpy black spaghetti top that stopped right above her knees, showing off those thick thighs that would make any man do a double take. Her cleavage? Oh man, it was out in full display. She wore red lipstick, smoky eye makeup, the whole nine yards. I helped her get dolled up for her night out with her black bull.
She looked stunning, like a real-life doll, curvy and seductive. As she left, she threw me a casual “Don’t worry, I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”
Sure, Hannah. Have fun.
As soon as she walked out the door, I called Tom. “How am I gonna witness this?” I asked, not sure if I could handle it, but needing to be part of it somehow. He assured me he’d make a live call. And sure enough, once she arrived at his hotel—a luxury suite in BKC I had secretly booked—Tom started the call. The camera was set up perfectly, giving me the whole room view.
From the moment she walked in, it was game on. Tom started by caressing her neck, moving her hair to the side, and kissing her gently. “You smell so good, Hannah,” he whispered. And Hannah? She blushed and moaned softly. They started kissing—hard—and this went on for 30 minutes. I was already done by then. Like, I couldn’t take it. I came watching them kiss.
Then, Tom threw her onto the bed. She bounced up from the force and yelped, “Ouch! You ruthless animal, go easy on me.” Tom chuckled, “Okay, my doll.”
Next thing I knew, Tom literally tore off her dress, leaving her in nothing but her black lingerie. And wow—her milky white skin against his dark body, it was insane. He was in his white jockeys, and you could see that thick 8.5-inch cock ready to burst out.
Then he pulled off her panties and went straight to work, licking her like a starving man. Hannah squirmed around on the bed, gripping the sheets like she was holding on for dear life. She came so hard, she squirted, and I mean it—like a river. The bed was soaked. She moaned like I’d never heard before: “Tom, eat me! My husband never did this!”
After 20 minutes of this, Tom wasn’t done. He stripped her bra, started devouring her tits, and manhandled her like the beast he was. Her moans only got louder, and then, the real show started.
He lubed up that massive cock and slowly slid it into her. She cried out, “Ouch! Slow down, Tom!” He reassured her, “I’m being slow, Hannah,” but his thrusts got deeper and harder. You could see the tears in her eyes, not just from the pain but from the pleasure. She started talking dirty—“My husband can’t stay hard like you, Tom. He cums in 30 seconds. You’re a real man. Fuck me hard plzzzzz”.
Tom grinned. “Yeah, you’re my slut now.”
I was beyond turned on. I came three times by then, just watching.
After hours of them going at it, Tom came with a loud roar, filling her up. She gasped, “You came inside me?” He smiled, “Yeah, I did.”
And then the kicker—he told her everything. That I had set this all up. She looked into the camera, mascara smudged, her naked body trembling. “Baby… I…” she started. But I cut her off. “It’s okay, love. I wanted you to have this.”
Her tension melted away, and they went for round two, with me finally stepping into the room to hold her hand.
And that’s it—for now.
During Her Sex, I Called Her And They Recorded It: My Wife Cheated On Me
Last Words
And there you have it, my adventurous readers! 🖤 From the laugh-out-loud moments to the jaw-dropping twists, each story is a reminder of how vast and unique human experiences can be. If these tales sparked something in you—curiosity, intrigue, or just a chuckle—you’re not alone. That’s the beauty of storytelling: it connects us in unexpected ways.
Have a story of your own you’d love to share? My inbox is always open! 📩 Until next time, keep exploring, stay curious, and don’t be afraid to embrace the stories that make you, you. Life’s too short for anything less, right? 😉
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