Our wedding

 

“It is a wonderful feeling for me now that we are married to know that your black Master is waiting upstairs for you to consummate our marriage." 

"So please go to him my Darling.  Pleasure him in all the ways that you always have.  Let him plant his seed in your body and remember that I will always be your willing, submissive cuckold of a husband.”

Out of focus

 

A little out of focus, but I think I got my Wife and her Lover just at the right moment in this picture.

A true cuckold

 

Discretion in a cuckold is always a good thing, especially when her Master strips his Wife naked.

A cuckold's confession

 

I made a promise and it was always my intention to keep it. With a Wife like Lucy it was always a very bad idea to renege on an agreement especially when we had talked something through, accepted, and then I had made a firm commitment. And that commitment was for me to find a suitable Black Man for her - such are the requirements of today's 'modern marriage'.

"Lucy has told me to find her a Lover," I told my best friend Jeremy in the pub the following night.

"Well it's about time Ken," he replied, "you've been married for nearly two years now and Lucy should have been 'mated' with a Black Master eighteen months ago."

"I know " I said, "but I couldn't bear to see her 'Black Owned' like so many other Wives, so I just didn't mention it."

Jeremy thought for a moment before saying, "Well Ken, it was wrong of you to deny her the conjugal rights she's entitled to, but I have an idea. My Wife Terri's Master has a brother who's own Mistress has gone back to live permanently with her hubby to bring up the baby. His name is Josh and they say that he has at least ten inches 'at rest'."

"Oh God!" I exclaimed, "He beats me by eight inches. If Lucy sees that she will forget I even exist, let alone share my bed."

"That's the whole point of the modern marriage Ken. She gets what she deserves and you get to wear the cuckold's antlers," Jeremy said. "And not to mention the little cage on your tiny willy."

I had heard about the cuckold willy cage and I had hoped to put off the inevitable unmanning for as long as possible, but Jeremy was right. It was time to accept the inevitable; I owed it to Lucy.

"So what happens next?" I asked my friend.

"I shall arrange for Josh to come to your house tomorrow night. He will undress and stand naked in your lounge, waiting to be introduced to Lucy," Jeremy said as he watched for any negative reaction from me. There were none so he continued, "You will then bring Lucy into the room, undress her in front of him until she is fully naked."

"And then what?"

"You will respectfully ask Josh if your Wife is acceptable to him as a mate," Jeremy said, with his gaze on my face checking for any wavering from me. He stopped for a second and then continued, "and then, of course, you must ask your pretty Wife if Josh is an acceptable mate for her."

"And if they both say yes?"

"Then Lucy will ask you to leave the room, and your sexy little Wife will belong to another man," said Jeremy, "and you will be a cuckold - just like the rest of us small dicked hubbies."

The following evening found me sat on the stairs listening to a very familiar voice coming from our lounge. I say it was a voice, but it was Lucy's moans and groans of passion that I recognised as she was mounted by Josh that assailed my ears. Later, as my Wife was carried by her new Master past me up the stairs to our bedroom I knew that this was to be my new life. I was now a lesser man - a man whose Wife needed a dark lord to own her young body and mind. It goes by the name of 'The Natural Order'.

It needn't have been this way, but judging by the look on her pretty face the moment she heard Josh say that she was acceptable as his mate I knew what my future would be and when she said, "You can leave now cuckold," ...

... it was no surprise at all.

The story of Elaine, Jackson and cuckold james - Chapter 1.

  

Chapter One – My Awakening

 

“What do you think of this one James?” my naked Wife Elaine asked me as she held up yet another bikini that was really only an arrangement of four small triangles of spotted pink cloth held together by gold chain. It was the fifth one she had shown me, and each had been flimsier than the previous.

“I like it! And it's revealing,” I confirmed, but I had already guessed that she knew that too, “so at least you won't be too warm - given the weather at the moment.”

The smile on her face told me that I had said the right thing and, with a tinkling sound, the little scraps of material and chain were thrown into her bag of beach ware and sun-blocking unguents. I didn't know it then, but those delicate chains were to play a significant part of my future.

The weather in London had been extremely warm due to the mini heat wave we had been experiencing in the UK, consequently Elaine and I had slept fitfully that night and at about four in the morning I had opened the bedroom windows for fresher air only for the room to be filled with a humid warmer slow breeze, that smelled of London traffic fumes. Just like New York, London never sleeps.

Elaine and I had showered together, as is our practice, and I had enjoyed (as was my practice) the view of the water rivulets coursing down her rubbery body and into her secret intimate places. No purist observer I – perfumed soap and natural sponge were applied by me to every pink surface of her skin; from foot to head and back again. Serving her was my pleasure and accepting my service was hers – of course.

I was still in my ‘birthday suit as I helped Elaine into her panties, shorts, blouse and beach sandals and, after receiving a pat on the head from her, I quickly dressed myself.

We were on the A20 near Sidcup before I asked Elaine the name of the resort we were heading to. It had been just the day before that she had suggested that we needed to get out of London and get some fresh sea air. “I’ve been told about a small beach down on the South Coast. It’s sort of hidden away near a large private manor house, and not many people know about it,” she had told me.

“I'm not sure if it has a name,” she had replied to my question as I had turned the car off a large roundabout towards Orpington, “but I know you will have an interesting time.”

‘Interesting?’ I thought, suddenly intrigued. ‘Not a nice time or fun time. Or pleasant time.’

An hour and a half later we turned off a small lane in Sussex onto an even smaller track through a long line of sand dunes towards the sea; although I had to concentrate in order to keep the car on the road, I had noticed a small, but we’ll maintained, sign for what I assumed to be the manor house Elaine had mentioned just after we had exited the lane. After driving slowly and carefully for five minutes we skirted around one large dune and entered a small car park with a small kiosk selling ice cream and cold drinks. The beach was accessed by a wooden pathway, according to a nearby sign.

As Elaine and I walked with our towels and beach bag a smiling couple walked towards us hand in hand, closely followed by a small a young man who carried their beach bag, towels and rug. The pretty girl, pregnant and clearly in love with the man she was with, had a happy and contented look to her as did the large well muscled Black Man whose hand she clung on to. Good manners required us to step aside onto the sand as they passed us by but their general demeanour told me that the three of them were together somehow.

“Hi Joanne,” said Elaine as they passed.

“Hi Elaine,” replied the pretty blond, while assessing me instantly by looking me up and down with a flick of her eyes. “Good luck!”

“Who was she?” I asked my smiling Wife.

“Friend of Maddie's"

“Oh!” But I was intrigued by what the pregnant beauty had said.

“Good luck with what?” I said as we made it to the top of the wooden pathway over the dunes to look down on the azure blue sea and small white waves just two hundred feet from where we stood. 

“Dunno!” 

The beach itself was small but pretty. Unusually for the South Coast, it was sandy and clean with an outcropping of rocks at one end and a larger cliff at the other. On top of the cliff was perched a large manor house and just below was a small wooden tower which I assumed was for a lifeguard, although it was empty at that moment.

Elaine chose the spot for our rug and towels and after we had both changed discreetly into our swimwear we settled down to enjoy the warm sun and, eventually no doubt, a swim in the sea. 

After approximately thirty minutes Elaine rolled over from her face down sunbathing position to say, “James I'm parched after that journey down here, could you go to that little shop and get me a cola.”

I nodded and stood up in the hot sand as she continued to tell me to take my phone in case they didn't have what she liked. It was a strange request because in all of our married life I had never known Elaine to drink ‘cola’ (Pepsi or otherwise).

It took approximately five minutes to walk down to the shop, but unlike the time of our arrival at the beach when there had been a queue, there was nobody being served, and I had her can of cola in my hand in seconds. It was when I arrived at the top of the dune that I looked down on the beach to where we had been sitting that my heart missed a beat. I didn't know what to do. I am a small and, some say, timid man and what was happening before me confused and worried me.

A large, heavily muscled Black Man had settled down next to Elaine and was talking to her, which in itself was not alarming; but what did unnerve me was her reaction to him. He was sat close to her and his hand was on her arm as they conversed, but there was no pulling away from him. She was smiling and chatting happily with her breasts bouncing as she laughed at his jokes, her nipples stood stiffly out from the flimsy fabric of her bikini and she was leaning towards him. My Wife was enjoying his company, and I knew instinctively that I should hide myself and watch discretely from behind the long rough grass bush from the top of a nearby dune.

Their conversation seemed to become less jolly and although I could not hear what they were talking about, I could see that they had come to an agreement, as she nodded her head and reached into her beach bag and pulled out her mobile phone.

“Hi James,” her voice trilled over the tiny speaker on my mobile, “where are you?”

For the first time in our marriage, I lied to my Wife. I don't know why I did, but my instinct told me that I should not. “There's a bit of a queue at the shop. I'll be about ten minutes,” I replied.

“Oh! Okay!” she responded, “But I don't want you to worry Dear. I've met an old school friend and we are going to go down the beach for a chat. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course Dear. Will you be long?” I asked

“A little while. Why don't you have a swim.”

She switched the phone off and, with the helping hand of her new companion, stood up and while still holding his hand walked away down the beach towards the small tower.

Still concealed, I watched as Elaine released her hand from his and wound her arm around his waist; and for his part he dropped his own very dark hand onto her rounded white arse cheeks.

‘Some school friend!’ I thought as I pushed the grass aside to view the happy pair disappear around the back of the tower. My Wife, the love of my life, was now alone, semi naked, with a big handsome black man. And I now felt a serious wave of trepidation as I cast the melting ice cream aside and followed in their footsteps up the beach.

As quietly as I could I searched around the outside of the tower until I found a knot of wood that had fallen out that provided me with a perfect spy hole.  Kneeling on the sand I placed my left eye to the hole and peaked inside – my worst fears were realised almost immediately.

The black man’s shorts lay around his feet and his powerfully built naked body appeared even blacker than it been out in the sunlight beach.  He was a big man and his thick cock, now being lovingly licked from base to head by my wife Elaine, looked like a long length of thick black cable that seemed to thicken and extend further with each gentle application of the lips and tongue of the woman I love.

 That was the moment that I should have banged on the side of the tower and screamed at her to leave and come outside to me, but to my shame I did not.  And why not you may ask?  Every ‘small’ cuckold that ever lived knows the answer to that question.

Meanwhile, his cock rose up like a pole causing her to sit up and stretch her neck so that she could engulf the head in her mouth, only stopping occasionally to smile up at him in appreciation of the beautiful black member she would soon be enjoying inside her.  In response to her approving smile, he reached down behind her and with just a flick of his wrist he broke the two tiny chains that held her bikini top together, releasing her beautiful full breasts.  His low whistle was his response in appreciation of their size and beauty.

For a full five minutes he enjoyed Elaine’s soft lips and tongue on his rock hard member smiling down at her in return for her look of adoration, while at the same time reaching down to stroke her lovely breasts.  He then spoke, his voice was commanding and deep, but soft – “On your back Baby and let’s see all of you.”

For a full five minutes he enjoyed Elaine’s soft lips..

 

“Yes Master”, was her reply and immediately lay back on the cool sand underneath the tower with her hardened nipples pointing up to the floor boards of the tower.

‘Master?  What the hell does that mean?’ I asked myself.  But I was truly not in any state of mind to answer such a question as my heart sank at the same time as she lifted her pretty round arse off the sand and squealed with delight as ‘Master’ pulled the bikini bottoms down her long lovely legs.  Slowly, and with a teasing smile on her pretty face she opened her legs wide for his intimate inspection.  The black man could now see all that my naked Wife had to offer and as I looked at the size and length now of his magnificent ebony manhood, I could tell that he liked what he saw. 

It was obvious that I was soon to be cuckolded and immediately felt the first wave of humiliation and impotence wash over me as I looked at Elaine with that superior man.  It was also clear to me that if I tried to intervene I would receive not only my wife’s wrath, but I could suffer a severe beating from her Lover.  And after smashing me to a pulp he would have her anyway, so I had no choice but to stay there and watch silently as she willingly prepared herself to be taken and used willingly by him.  ‘Discretion is the better part of valour,’ I told myself but there are other words for my inaction.

Opening her legs wide, she planted her feet in the sand and once again lifted her cute round arse, offering her pretty pink pussy in that time honoured way that a woman shows her desire to the man she wants – to the man she was now calling ‘Master’.  And ‘Master’ was not slow in accepting her lascivious offer.

Positioning himself between her open legs he athletically leaned in over her body and kissed each fully erect nipple of her breasts while at the same time allowing her gentle but demanding hands to guide his big black cock onto the coral pink lips of her labia.  Within less than a second his large black manhood breached her wet and willing opening and slid deep inside her; all achieved to the sound of a gasping moan from her and a victorious, “Yeah!” from him.

It was official.  I was now a Cuckold, a humiliated mouse watching his wife through a tiny hole in a rough plank of wood being taken by a far better man.  I was mortified and dishonoured, weak and foolish and yet?  In my heart of hearts I knew that this was somehow for the better; it was how it should be; a woman such as Elaine deserves the very best and that very best was now plunging his big member inside her.   More to the point I knew that I was far from being ‘the very best’ and in all truth, I had always been a lesser man.

As I thought this through, a calmness came over me and I became detached from my emotions and watched her and Master dance to that wonderful horizontal Tango that I now know comes so naturally to white women and black men.  With her ankles now crossed over his back allowing him even deeper penetration, it was if they were one; with impeccable timing they matched each other’s thrust and gyration instinctively understanding how to give and receive the joys of sexual congress – simpatico is the word to describe how they made love.

I don’t know for how long I observed my lovely young wife being taken by ‘Master’ but my back ached from kneeling and my knees hurt from being in contact with the sand, nevertheless my eye never left that knothole.  I could not move in my torture and my embarrassment because my little penis had been erect from the very first second that I saw them together walking down the beach, and had remained as a tiny protrusion from my groin that made a small distortion to the front of my swimming shorts.  I was so ashamed of my reaction to seeing her with him, but I admit it now, although I didn’t know it then, but I had been aroused by watching my wife with another man.

All I know was that the sun had moved across the sky before the rhythmic thrusting and Elaine’s moans of pleasure and orgasm changed from a regular steady tempo to a more urgent and powerful momentum.  Again and again, his hard powerful thrusts elicited screams, whimpers and words of passion the like of which I had never heard from her in the time we had been man and wife.  Finally he roared, grunted and then roared again like a mating lion as the seed from his heavy balls flooded into her through his deeply embedded ebony manhood.

“Oh God!  Oh God! Oh God! Cum in me! Oh please! Oh please! Oh yes! Oh yes!”  As conversations go it had its limits but the message was very clear - to Master, to me and if truth were known, all the others on that beach that afternoon.  My wife had willingly mated with her black lover and I had now joined the ranks of the millions of cuckolds in this world.  Furthermore I had held back like a weak little man and had done nothing as another had ejaculated into my wife – I was not only a Cuckold but a wimp too, and I knew it.

It was at that moment of their climax that I realized that my own semen was running down my legs onto the sand; I had cum at the precise moment that Master had.  The very moment his seed had poured from his huge cock into Elaine, my four incher had pulsed and spurted my weak juice inside my shorts.

Removing my eye from the knothole, I glanced down and without any emotion I viewed the dark patch on the material.  I was so numb from shock and dishonour that I just didn’t care who saw me, so I just stood up and staggered away from the tower back to our original spot on the beach.

What the hell was I going to do now?  I needed to gather my thoughts and take stock of my situation.

True cuckold

 

A true cuckold knows that when his Wife is 'Black Owned, her Lover can put his hands wherever he likes, whenever he wants, and have her however he wishes. It's his right as her Master, and hubby is content that he exercises that right so very, very often.

My cuckold shorts

Watching her with him through the bedroom door she has left open just for me is a very special time for a true cuckold like me.

A true cuckold

 

Knowing why her belly and breasts are swelling, and just who caused it, is one of the many humiliations that a true cuckold enjoys.

Her needs

 

"I think you are doing your husband a disservice."

"What do you mean?"

"Little Martin has every idea of your needs, it's just that he can't fulfil them."

"You know my hubby?"

"Oh yes! He works for me. And he came to me three months ago and asked me to start dating you."

"Oh! Was this set up by him?"

"Of course! Martin has always understood the 'Natural Order'. He knows that a 'small' husband should step aside for a Black Master when he fails his Wife in that way."

"And has he stepped aside?"

"Well he's downstairs waiting patiently for us to finish ...

... just like a good cuckold should."

My cuckold marriage - the beginning.

 When a happy marriage reaches the five year mark (or thereabouts) it is only natural that a good and caring husband knows and understands his Wife’s likes and dislikes. This is particularly true of the marriage bed, and like most couples I knew exactly what Samantha, or Sam as I call her, needed for her to be a very satisfied and contented Lady – and it wasn't me. She was very kind of course and rarely commented on my lack of size and hardness, but I knew that I would have to do something for her soon; I owed it to my sweet and beautiful Wife.

Denzel was a good friend of mine from work and I knew that he fancied Sam, and that she had often delighted in my telling her about his conquests of other mens' Wives, so I guessed that she had a secret passion for my big Black friend. As I said, a good hubby can read the signs, and knows when it is time to take action.

I will admit to some trepidation on the evening that I invited Denzel around for drinks, but I was pleased to see that both Sam and he had taken care to dress nicely and look good. After a few minutes small-talk, Sam and Denzel started chatting amicably and were even gently teasing each other like old friends. They were getting on well and everything was going as I had planned.

Like a good hubby should, I made my excuses and went into the kitchen, leaving my lovely Wife alone with Denzel. I had told them that I was busy preparing food and it would take some time. Nevertheless I wanted to make sure that my Wife and my friend were enjoying each other's company, so I decided to look in on them occasionally.

The first time I looked in on them they were kissing. To witness my own Wife with her arms around Denzel's neck and with their lips planted on each other’s was an emotional shock, so I very nearly lost my resolve and was tempted to step into the room to disturb them. But I did not. And why? Because seeing her in his strong dark arms was the most natural and beautiful thing I had seen in a long, long time, and the look of sublime pleasure on her face told me that my instincts had been right. Sam wanted him and my friend clearly wanted her, and under such circumstances, a good hubby should always step aside.

The second time I quietly sneaked a peak at the very involved couple left me in no doubt that Samantha was enjoying his attentions even more and had forgotten my very existence.

... Samantha ... had forgotten my very existence.

So, just as a husband who only has three inches should, I backed out of the room and let nature take its inevitable and wonderful course. It wasn't easy to sit in my kitchen while Sam and Denzel got to know each other more and more intimately, but my love for my Wife only increased my determination to give Sam a more satisfying life.

Twenty minutes later, all that could be heard from our lounge was rhythmic groans and squeals from Sam and the slap of heavy dark balls on naked female flesh. So I took another look and from what I saw, I was no longer in any doubt. She was experiencing everything that had been missing in our marriage, and I was now a cuckold.

... I was now a cuckold.

Quietly, I moved back into the lounge and sat silently in the dark as Denzel brought Sam to the mind shattering orgasm that over the years she should have been entitled to. I did nothing and sat silent and humbled as he then roared like a wild animal and with hard violent thrusts, he emptied his seed into my Wife. And watching them together I knew that I had been right to allow my Wife the freedom she deserves.

After her head had cleared and Denzel had left it was clear that Sam was ashamed that she had cheated on me. She was silent and shamefaced after we had gone to bed; nevertheless I held her close me and waited as she wept

“Oh God Jeremy,” she said between her tears of mortification, “I am ... so sorry. I don’t know what ....... came over me.”

“Strictly speaking it was Denzel. And he came in you, not over you.”

My reply elicited another round of wailing, so I let Sam blub for another ten minutes before I quietly asked the most pertinent question of the night, “Did you enjoy it Sam?”

She continued to cry but I knew that she was playing for time, so I asked her again, “Did you enjoy it Sam?”

Agin she didn't answer, so I continued, “Did you like Denzel’s hands on your private places? And did you enjoy being mounted by your black stallion?”

She stopped crying, but with red eyes and wet runny nose she still stayed silent; so I went in for the kill, “How about when he flooded you with his Black Master's seed. Did you feel good like a pretty White Mistress should? Did you love it my pretty young Wife?”

“Yes!”

At last I had my answer.

“Repeat that please,” I said.

“Yes! I loved it! All of it.”

“Just as I thought you would my Love.”

Sam dried her eyes and with some apprehension asked the question she didn't want to ask. “So what do you want to do about my cheating on you?”

“You have deserved better than me inside your sweet young body for too long,” I said, thus leaving her in no doubt that this was something I had considered for a long time, “so tomorrow evening I shall help you get ready and I will take you to Denzel’s apartment where you will spend the night with him. He has my permission to f*ck you all night long and he will have you repeatedly, without let up or rest. And by the next morning you will know what it means to be a Black Owned Mistress. How does that sound?”

Sam sniffed, wiped her eyes and replied, "Would it be possible to go to Denzel's in the morning?"

Gently I rolled her onto her back and eased her legs open ready for my attentions. Her labia still smelt of Deven's seed and the musty, salty taste of his essence met my cuckold's tongue in the moment of the complete emasculation of my manliness.

But my Wife had asked me a question and for me there was only one answer. Looking up from my totally submissive position, I replied,

“Of course we can Samantha.”

 

 

The CEO of the accountancy firm I work for has a policy of getting to know the Wives of his employees in order to promote a more 'family friendly' atmosphere.

"I've never met your Wife have I Derek," he said to me after a particularly long meeting. "I would like to take her out tonight and get to know her."

"You want to take my Wife out on a date?" I asked.

"For the good of the firm," he replied with a smile - to which there was no answer I could think of.

Janice thought it was a little unusual but accepted the invitation with some encouragement from me. Later, as she was preparing for her date with my Boss, I said to her, "His name is Ramone by the way."

"That's good to know," she responded. "With a name like that I guess he's Black."

"Yes! Very!" I confirmed.

Janice looked thoughtful for a second, and then said, ... 

..."Well in that case!"

My cuckold shorts

 

Not that she wants to turn back and it's not that her cuckolded hubby wants her to.  So she doesn’t and the world is a better place for it.

A true cuckold

 

Waiting for her to come home after a night of fun is no more than should be expected from a true cuckold.

Not quite!

 

"I thought that tonight was just a meeting with your Boss to discuss the future."

"It is."

"The future of the business? Or should I not ask."

"You can ask if you want to."

"He's asked you to be his Girlfriend, hasn't he."

"So your question is?"

"Are you about to cuckold me with your Boss?"

"ABOUT to cuckold you? ...

... er! Not quite!"

Tales From The Natural Order

My Replacement - Part 14

It is ten years since the wonderful life-changing holiday in Crete that transformed me, my Wife Susan's life, and that of my two children Tom and Jenni. Even today I can smell the sea, taste the Karavitakis wine that I imbibed as I had gazed in awe at the moonlit ocean, while listening to Susan and Raoul having wild sex in the suite next door. I had loved everything that had happened and, even now, I relish the memory of all that had converted me from boring husband to feminized cuckold.

... I gazed in awe ...

While the holiday had been an adventure in exploring my sexuality, for Susan it had proved to be a stroke of good fortune to meet and be seduced by Raoul, even though we had agreed months earlier that she could find a ‘bed replacement' for me. However all such escapades must come to an end and the return to England should bring a return to the status quo. But the pre holiday ‘normal’ was gone forever, because Susan's date with Raoul four nights after our return heralded the new ‘normal' in our marriage. She had left me that evening to go to Raoul and spend the night with him at his house in Westerham, leaving me standing in the room alone in my pretty white lingerie. 

I was used to the very idea of my lovely Wife having an intimate relationship with Raoul and we had both bought into the concept that is known as the ‘Natural Order'. It was a way of n concept that for years had grown exponentially among young (or not so young) married couples that the pretty Wife should deserve more than her ‘little' husband could offer in the marriage bed, hence the increasing number of those couples who now live a life of being ‘Owned' by a superior Black Master. It was never talked about in Press or Mainstream Media (MSM) but it was real, increasing and my Wife and I had enthusiastically joined. Susan, of course, had previous experience of being owned (at university) whereas I had embraced our new way in those few days in Crete. 

It had been the moment that Clare (Raoul's brother's Mistress) had informed me that her husband liked to wear similar underwear to her every day that had prompted me to experiment with feminization myself. The very first time that I had donned the same lingerie as Susan, I knew that I had found something that I had missed in my life. Like most men I had developed a persona over the years that just wasn't me; I was not an ‘Alpha Male’ like Raoul or Marcus – I knew I was something else, but couldn't define what it was until the moment I had put on a pair of Susan's panties. And Susan would later confirm that she had waited years for this particular realisation in my mind, and her heart had leapt for joy at my request to wear the same underwear as her. And it would be true to say that our love for each other has become even more so than before Crete.

... something I had missed in my life.

Raoul brought Susan back to our home in Tunbridge Wells on the Thursday afternoon and it was immediately obvious to me that they were now deeply enamoured with each other. I was not surprised at Susan's growing love for the big Black Man she now referred to as ‘Master'; he was strong, big, intelligent, well-hung, and she had just spent the night and much of the morning in bliss with his big dark member powering into her soft warm body. The desire for her Lover was reflected in her eyes that shone with yearning for him to possess her both carnally and emotionally. 

Raoul's demeanour was different from that on our holiday. Gone was the over confident and slightly cynical Black Man who had seduced my Wife in that lovely hotel but in his place was one who had finally realised just what he had taken on. Susan was not one of his auctioned Mistresses that he had purchased for six months or a year and then send her back to her husband with his baby growing inside her, or one of the pretty concubines from the ‘White Mistress Order' who happily provide nights of pleasure for Black Masters at their husband’s financial, and presumably emotional, expense.

...his auctioned Mistresses ...

My lovely Wife had a husband and children she loved, commitments, and a comfortable life. I had told Raoul this one day while we chatted on our sunbeds in Crete but I could see that it was only now that he had finally realised just how lucky he had been to meet and fall in love with this ‘Complete Woman’. He now knew that the Lady who shared his bed was not only a good lay, but a warm and wonderful companion. My big Black friend was in love with my Wife, and I couldn't blame him. 

“You know that I'm not going away,” Raoul said, as Susan had left us alone to go upstairs to change. “Not now, or any time soon!” 

“Master, I have known this since the first time I saw you with Susan,” I replied as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat due to the lace panties I was wearing scratching against my bottom. 

“But it's now time to think about you cuckold.” 

“Me Master?” 

“Susan has arranged for the kids to stay with their Grandmother on Friday night so I can spend the night here,” he said as Susan re-entered the room. 

“In our marriage bed?” I asked – already knowing what the answer would be. 

“Of course, silly,” Susan chirped up as she sat down on Raoul's lap. 

“Okay!” I replied – but I had a question. “And will I be attending your night in our bed?” 

Raoul smiled at this and responded with the words that completed my transition to sissy cuckold, “What you did for Marcus and Clare, you can do for us. How does that sound cuckold?” 

“Perfect Master.” 

The kids had been despatched to Susan's parents by late afternoon on the Friday. So it was with a sensation of building excitement at seven o'clock that evening saw Susan and I sat together on our bed pulling matching black ‘hold-up' stockings and panties up our legs after warm showers and reapplication of the razor to our private parts. 

As we sat together in a companionable silence in our bedroom we both understood that we were opening up new and untested waters for the future of our marriage. Neither of us wanted to speak and break the sensual mood that hung in the air between us; this was because we both understood that we were preparing for two different activities. Susan was preparing to be her Master's pleasure Mistress for the night and me, as her husband, was readying myself for a night of sexual enslavement to add that erotic frisson to my own Wife's sexual abandonment to Raoul. 

We were both calm and ready for the night ahead, but the silence was broken by Susan when she turned to me and said, “take the chain off Dear and hook it onto your little cage.” 

“Yes Mistress,” I replied as I pulled the waist band of my panties down and unclipped the figure of eight chain from where the small loop was located alongside the scrotum ring of my penis cage; which was then followed by the large (slave) loop from around my waist. This glittering length of delicate links served a dual purpose of being a daily reminder of my enslavement and cuckolding and, when the situation allowed, a chain to attach to my cage that could be used to demonstrate my total submissive nature. It had been a gift from Clare that I treasured for what it represented. It took little time to finish my preparations so I waited with baited breath for what was to happen next. And it was Susan who took command of her slave. 

“Cuckold,” she said, with a firmness in her voice that I had rarely experienced before that night, “our Master will be here in a minute and tonight is especially for your progression. In the future you will be expected to serve us drinks and maybe a light meal before we retire upstairs to bed, but for this evening I want you to stay here and wait for us to join you here in the bedroom.” 

“I understand,” I said, conscious that the success of the evening was now my responsibility. “And I won't let you down. I've been looking forward to tonight Mistress.” 

“Me too,” she replied, as she slipped a tiny black dress over her head and left the room, but not without a mischievous conspiratorial grin at me as she shut the door. 

Susan had not told me that I could move, so I stood obediently in the room in silent submissive anticipation of the night ahead. My chain was now secured onto my penis cage and I had the loose end in my hand, ready to give it to whoever wanted to lead me around the bedroom by tugging on my private parts.

... ready to give it to whoever wanted to lead me ...

I heard Susan's excited squeal first as Raoul opened our front door with his key and swept up his Mistress into his arms. The general murmur of chatter, most of which I could just about discern, followed as the two Lover’s discussed the night ahead and, I guessed, me. Gradually, the conversation grew louder as my Wife and our Master climbed the stairs. 

“We're in here,” Susan said as the bedroom door swung open to reveal the loving couple who immediately both looked critically in my direction. “And our cuckold is ready,” she continued after a brief inspection of my appearance. 

“Well turned out again I see,” Master commented as he eyed my hold up stockings, panties tucked underneath my cage, and chain that I held out in front of me. 

Susan took a hold of the chain before I could reply and with just a moderate tug, had me tottering across the floor to stand before Master. It had been a warm summer's day so he had come to our house in just chino shorts, silk shirt, and brown leather loafers – no socks; and I couldn't help wondering if his lightness of dressing was deliberate. I didn't need to speculate on how little she had on underneath her little dress however – I already knew she was nearly naked, Master, of course, discovered this pleasant fact the very moment that she pulled the black material quickly over head again to stand next to me. We were two semi nude gentle loving spirits to be enjoyed in any way he would choose, and the smile on his face told me he knew it. 

“Undress your Master!” It was an order from Susan that required immediate action. My fingers no longer trembled nervously, as they initially had in Crete, when I unbuttoned the thin material of his shirt and I was grateful that he just shrugged it off to allow it to float to the floor. Quickly I knelt before the enormous Black Man who had taken over my life and helped him step out of his loafers and then fastened my attention on the zipper and fastener to his shorts. 

I knew that Raoul had a sizeable ‘package' and I had gained a good impression of the size of his manhood the night he had lifted my Wife up and had impaled her on his hardness; it had been dark on the balcony but I had been left in no doubt that he was a ‘big' man. Nevertheless, what flicked upwards and hit me on the chin as his shorts fell to the floor was a shock – it was very, very impressive.

- it was very, very impressive.

Marcus's member had been big and beautifully formed, but it had seemed a benign organ that did not reflect the severe and hard exterior that he presented to the world, even though I had seen the softer side of him and knew better. Raoul on the other hand was a friendly and erudite man who had been blessed with a manhood that appeared to have been chiselled from dark volcanic rock. It’s veins stood out like giant worms that meandered up and down its long flaccid length. It was thick, so damned thick that when I wrapped my little white hand around it, the tips of my fingers just barely touch the tip of my thumb. It was a big ugly beast, but all of that silly frightened emotion vanished the moment I leaned forward to place a tender kiss on the tip of its massive head. 

Susan's gasp as I had planted my lips softly on Master's glans told me that she had not thought through the reality of what I would do when the three of us were together. She had been surprised at seeing her husband become sexually intimate with her Master so readily, but she hadn't seen anything yet. 

She was silent as I went to work on that large, but no longer flaccid, member that was starting to fill and raise up from his muscular thighs to take up an angle away from his legs. It was if the beast was coming out to meet me and was asking for more of my lips, tongue, and gentle stroking soft hands. And being the submissive cuckold I am, I was more than happy to oblige. 

There was no relenting in my efforts to bring Master's manhood to its phallic magnificence. The warmth of his skin was a delight on my tongue as I licked the underside of his cock causing it to rise inevitably upwards. Equally pleasurable was the very action of stretching open my jaws in order to take his organ into my mouth and nestle the large round head in against the soft wet flesh of my tonsils. 

As my tongue sensed the first salty taste of Master's seminal lubricating fluid I faintly heard Susan say, “Oh my God! He's loving this.” 

She was correct. I was enjoying every second of fellating that brute of a dark brown organ that was now standing at forty five degrees from the vertical. The heat of his member on my lips, tongue and throat were giving me such an emotional rush that I was unaware of all that was around me. My focus was entirely on pleasing him and bringing it to its full power and size. 

Like the virile and fit man that he is, he was soon fully erect and ready for the real purpose of the night – to slide his member into Susan's vagina and exercise his carnal rights over my Wife. To merge their bodies into one in the ecstasy of mating while her husband stood in total, albeit willing, capitulation of his manliness and watch silently as she was taken. 

Susan had removed her panties and was lying naked on the bed with her legs apart by the time Master was ready. Her eyes were smoky with desire, her lips were shiny from licking in anticipation of his penetration, and she had planted her feet on the bed to raise the lower part of her body to meet his tumescent rod. Her deep yearning for him was something I realised was a deep hunger that, as her husband, I had failed miserably to fulfil over the ten years of our marriage. 

With one hand Susan reached down to her crotch and, using her fingers, she parted the lips of her labia; and with her other hand she reached out to take a hold of his big dark rod and guide his glans, still shiny from my salivation, directly down to her vaginal entrance. It was a wanton demonstration of just how physical their relationship now was. She was effectively telling him that she is now his to have whenever he wants, that he now ‘owns' her. More than that – she was telling him that he now ‘owns' us. 

Quite how that large head of his cock entered Susan's dainty vagina without causing her pain or discomfort I shall never know. As he pushed slowly his glans stopped moving for a tiny moment before popping into her wet and welcoming tunnel. Her brow furrowed for a second just before he entered her, but this was closely followed by a beatific smile and then a long loud groan as his member slid deep into her body. And I knelt by the bed in that warm and private bedroom with my eyes less than three feet away – me - their cuckold – their feminized cuckold – their happy feminized cuckold. 

They set up together a now well practised rhythm of love that consumed them. They were alone in their world of pleasure and passion; just the two of them reading each other’s bodies to become one sensual being joined together in flesh, delightful sensations, and emotional love. Susan was his Woman now and when they both finally came together, the kiss she initiated on his lips told Master, and me, that the seed he had ejaculated into her was not just welcome, but was strongly desired like a true ‘mating female’ would.

... like a true ‘mating female’ would.

It took a very long five minutes for their passion to subside as they clung to each other communicating with breathless confirmation of their love and lust. With Susan's legs wrapped tightly around his back, Master Raoul had no option but to keep his large manhood inside her; not that he was desperate to pull his ugly dark organ out of my Wife. He was happy just where he was – in my house, on my bed, and inside the Woman I love. But all good things must come to an end. 

“Do your thing cuckold,” Raoul growled, as he eased himself carefully off Susan thus enabling his dark member, now semi hard but still swollen, to slide out of her vagina. 

There was no time to lose. I climbed onto the bed and within a second my head was between her thighs and I was lapping at the musty fluid that was oozing from her vaginal entrance. And there seemed to be a never ending supply of Master's semen for me to eagerly scoop up with my industrious tongue and to consume, while Susan cooed and pushed on the back of my head to keep my face in contact with her sticky crotch.

... to keep my face in contact ...

It was Mistress Clare and Master Marcus all over again. I was being used in my submissive position to smooth the path of the successful mating of a pretty Wife and her big Black Master. Due to those happy nights I had spent facilitating their physical loving, I was now an expert in the depraved but delightful activity going on between my own Wife's open thighs. So it was just natural when I managed to free my right hand from underneath Susan's right thigh and reach for Master’s warm flaccid cock, still slick with Susan's own fluids and his seed. 

When I heard the note of mild surprise come from Master as I closed my hand over his manhood, I pulled my hand quickly away, not wanting to presume upon my position as cuckold. But I shouldn't have worried; very quickly Susan's left hand closed down on my wrist and moved my own back on to Master's cock and pressed it gently back onto his dark flesh. Clearly Susan and Clare had similar tastes in their cuckolds and the actions he should take when in her bed with her Master. It was ‘revival’ time! 

I had lapped up all of the seed that I physically could from Susan’s labia and vaginal opening, so it was now time for my Wife's Master. Carefully I eased away from between Susan's legs, positioned myself between Master's, and lowered my sticky face down onto his unlovely thick member. 

I explored his cock and balls with my tongue, fingers, and throat like a whirlwind on speed. I had one thing on my mind, and that was to achieve erection and hardness back into his pillar of manliness. There was not a sense of sexuality in my mind as I went to work on my Wife's Lover; my sole purpose was to get his cock ready to penetrate my Wife again. And within minutes I was succeeding. 

Carefully, I held his engorged hardness in one hand as I urged him to move once again to position himself between Susan’s legs. They both instinctively understood my purpose and moved smoothly, as one, to help me in my mission, thus allowing me to locate the glans of his manhood directly at Susan’s welcoming access. 

He needed nothing more from me. In all truth, my assistance was purely symbolic. It was a statement of my position in the loving trio that gyrated, kissed, stroked, licked, and took pleasure from and gave pleasure to each other on that lovely night; I was the submissive extra. And as the ‘extra' I knew when it was my time to retire from the action. In other words – just to get out of the way. 

Unsurprisingly, their lovemaking for the second ‘session' was a more relaxed affair. With long unhurried strokes her kept up a rhythm that had Susan mewing with pleasure and gasping for air with each trembling orgasm, so I knelt beside the bed and watched open mouthed at the sight of this Black Man's control over my Wife. And I learned that night just why Raoul, and others like him, are justifiably called Masters. It might have been twenty or thirty minutes before his manhood jerked and jumped inside Susan to spurt yet more of his salty cream inside her, and for me to savour. 

As sure as night follows day, I repeated my cleaning and reviving duties for the Lovers who were far from being finished for the night. Again Raoul positioned himself between Susan's open thighs and, with my help, entered her again to continue with his deep long strokes. And again, still in my black stockings and panties, I knelt submissively by the bed. 

Again he erupted in her and again I served them like a ‘cleaning slave’. The musty taste of semen now seemed to be a permanent fixture in my mouth with my face was sticky from the repeated clearing of Master's essence from Susan's sweet pink pussy. It was demeaning, but I didn't mind; I had made my own decisions and chosen my new life, and these were the moments to treasure. 

In that one night I lost count of the number of times the two Lovers combined their bodies in lust, but finally, Susan curled up in a foetal position on the bed, Raoul pulled her gently to him and they fell into a deep and satisfied sleep. They were as one in their love and I, as their cuckold, switched out the bedside light and went to sleep on the carpeted floor by the bed – Susan’s and my own marriage bed. 

“Come on cuckold! Wakey wakey!” 

It was Master Raoul and he was standing over me, naked. His foot had been nudging my arm for minutes to bring me out of my sleep, but it was his voice that woke me. 

“I have to get away early for business, and I need a shower,” he continued. 

I scrambled to my feet and replied quietly, because Susan was still soundly asleep, “Yes Master.” 

There was no need for me to question just what was required of me. Clare had trained me well in those nights with her and Master Marcus and I understood now just what was required of me in that shower room attached to our bedroom. 

Having shown Master the taps and controls I turned on the water and stepped aside as the big man entered, adjusted the temperature to suit his needs, and stood under the streaming warm water. Quickly, I pulled down my black hold-up stockings, dropped my panties to the floor and stepped naked inside the cubicle that was large enough for two people to wash together (It had been Susan's requirement when we had had the new shower unit installed, and I wondered if she had foreseen this moment). 

“Business on a Saturday?” I asked as I reached for the natural sponge and shower soap. 

“Afraid so!” he replied as I knelt before him and start to wash his feet – with his big ugly brown manhood resting on my shoulder. “I haven't told you what I do, have I.” 

It struck me at that moment as I thought to myself, ‘You are washing your Wife's Lover's feet,’ that I was now completely conquered. If there had been any vestiges of manly pride in me I would not have done such a thing; I had willingly given myself over to complete humiliation and servitude to my Wife and her Master. Everything a real man should be – I was not. So there was only one thing a feminized-cuckold should do. 

I completed the washing of Master's naked body in very quick time. The sweat that had dried on his body from servicing my Wife overnight was washed away and he was now fresh and clean, and ready for the day ahead - almost. 

“So what do you do for a living Master?” I asked as I knelt before him again and took his big dark organ in one hand and his manly balls in another. 

“I am the Chief Executive Officer of the ‘Black Master Organisation'. Have you heard of it?” 

I lifted my head up from where I had been licking the underside of his helmet shaped glans, and replied, “ No Master. And I haven't seen it listed either. At my bank that is.” 

“No you won't,” he replied between little hissing noises of pleasure as I went into serious work with my head bobbing up and down on the now erect ugly monster that filled my mouth with its warm smooth strength. 

“We are very private, but very influential. And our mission statement tells you everything that we are.” 

With the taste of his pre-ejaculate seminal fluid now in my mouth I lifted my head briefly again, and asked, “And what is that Master?” 

“To bring ‘The Natural Order’ to all the Wives whose desires are not met.” 

“Tell me more!” 

“Maybe .... later,” he replied as the pre-ejaculation stress affected his speech. 

“Of course Master,” I said, as I redoubled my excitement of his now very hard and tumescent organ. 

I felt his rod jump in my mouth just milliseconds before the first spurt of his semen hit the back of my throat. It was if a dam had burst and warm fluid was erupting into my stretched open mouth, down my chin, and dropping onto my legs and penis cage. After a night spent ejaculating into my warm and very willing Wife I had expected to be drawing just a few remnants of seed from this virile mountain of a Black Man, but I was wrong. In his sleep overnight his strong body had regenerated his manly essence. Stream after stream washed down my throat into my stomach, into my eyes as I pulled my head away to catch my breath, and over my face. 

Gradually his erupting subsided so his member softened and dropped out of my mouth to rest on his thighs. I was exhausted and, with my mouth still full of his jism, I could hardly speak. 

“Marcus did say you were a natural,” he said after we had both regained our composure, “but he missed out telling me that your are an expert. And a very enthusiastic one at that.” 

I was still consuming the last remnants of his baby making cream so I could not answer directly, nevertheless my ‘thumbs up' gesture was a sufficient reply to confirm that I felt pride in his evaluation of my skills and appreciated him saying so. The pat on my head as he exited the shower cubicle told me that he understood my message. 

I washed his seed from my body as he dried himself on my towel, which he then handed to me so that I, now cleansed of his salty lotion, could use after he finished. Back in the bedroom he dressed himself without disturbing Susan, while I slipped on my bathrobe and waited outside the bedroom door for him to finish. After giving my Wife a tender kiss on her forehead Master followed me down the stairs; we said nothing (so as not to wake Susan) until after I had made some coffee and toast. 

“I've asked Susan to bring you and the children over to my place in Westerham this afternoon,” he said as he sipped the coffee I had made for him, “so we can get together, let the kids play in the pool, and discuss our future.” 

“Our future, Master?” 

“Oh yes cuckold. Susan and I have been discussing where this affair is going and we both think that our relationship should be open and acknowledged. And the first thing is to tell Jenni and Tom that their Mother and me are now in a loving relationship. From now I'm their Uncle Raoul. Do you think they will understand?” he said. 

I thought about Jenni and decided that she would like to have an Uncle Raoul, but Tom? He had already asked if the big Black Master in front of me was his ‘Mum's Boyfriend' but I wasn't sure if he would accept the idea of his Mother being Raoul's Girlfriend. I was still thinking about how to handle this situation when Susan entered the kitchen wearing her own silk robe. 

Pouring a cup of coffee for herself she turned to Master and said, “Have you told him?” 

He welcomed her soft warm bottom onto his lap before he replied, “Yes My Love. I'm waiting for him to think over what I have said.” 

“I think that we should tell the kids first,” I said, “ and then your parents ...” 

Susan interrupted. “They already know,” she said. 

“Then I suppose, there is only one more question for me to ask,” I said, as my sweet Wife and her Master looked back at me – perplexed. 

“What is it Dear?” asked Susan, suddenly concerned at the seriousness in my voice. 

“On the first night of our holiday, I asked you if Raoul was my ‘Replacement.” 

“I remember,” Susan responded slowly and thoughtfully, clearly wondering where my enquiry was leading. 

“So just to be clear. Is the man we now refer to as Master, my ‘Permanent Replacement'?” 

Broad happy smiles erupted on both of their faces at my question, but Master remained silent. This was his Mistress's moment, and there were tears of love in her eyes as she look across the kitchen table at me. “Of course he is David.” 

Epilogue: 

As I had thought, Jenni took the news without caring or understanding very much, whereas Tom shrugged disinterestedly and said, “I thought so!” However, a month later, after Master had allowed him to sit in the co-pilot seat of his Citation jet as we jetted off for a weekend in France, Tom was more enthusiastic about ‘Uncle Raoul’. And Brenda, Susan's Mother, was pleased that I had given up my manliness in the cause of her daughter's future happiness and was even nicer to me than before the holiday. 

On the Monday, before I went into work, I made sure that I was registered with the Financial Conduct Authority and ordered a full range of computers, uninterrupted power supplies, and the fastest internet package on the market. When all of that was set up I gave my manager my notice to quit my job at the bank, but not without dropping hints to all of my clients that I was setting up on my own. Happily , seventy percent of them followed me, so within the month I was a fully operating financial advisor for investments. 

After discussing the matter with Master and Mistress, it was decided that the requirement to wear a penis cage when travelling should be abandoned, this was after a particularly embarrassing incident on the train when sitting down, the cage itself made me look like I had an erection. However, to this day, I have never removed my ‘slave chain’, except for hygiene; similarly, now free from routinely commuting by train to London, my cage is also a permanent feature of my manly diminution. 

I had believed Master Raoul when he had said that the Natural Order was a bigger movement than was appreciated, but any last scepticism I had about his claim was washed away at the astounding number of the little ‘Ace of Spades' chain’s on pretty ankles I had seen when in London; even one or two in the bank. Not just on Ladies but men too - presumably fellow cuckolds. This realisation was further compounded when Master Raoul (as CEO) took both Susan and I, as guests, to a Black Master Organisation ‘White Mistress Auction’ evening when the full understanding of just what was meant by the ‘Natural Order' became real as we watched as twenty two cuckolded husbands stood naked, in chains, and silent as their equally naked Wives were sold to rich and powerful Black Masters as Breeding Mistresses for a period of twelve months. (Note: I may write further about that revelatory evening - but later and in addition to this story.) 

It was in the July of that year that Clare contacted Susan to let her know that she was now pregnant with Marcus's baby, and that she was sure that my ploy of preventing her from falling forward when her Master erupted his seed into her was the reason it happened so quickly. Needless to say, that she, Marcus and including her cuckold hubby, Clive, were very appreciative of my efforts in those wonderful sensuous nights in the hotel suite. And they were even more happy with me when Clare gave birth to baby Suzie in the February of the following year. Susan of course was delighted when she was asked to be Godmother to the little brown bundle. 

As Susan and our Master have become even closer, both physically and emotionally, I have learned to accept my new position as that of the diminished husband. But this new way of life is not as unfortunate as it seems; no longer do I have to wake at five thirty in the morning to get on to smelly over-packed trains to London and then, after a ten hour working day, arrive home at eight in the evening. Additionally, I see more of my children and enjoy taking them to, and collecting them, from school. And it was during one of my school ‘collections’ that I became better acquainted with Abigail McIntosh's husband Jack, who told me that their Master had impregnated his Wife. “It was only to be expected,” he had said in confirmation of his emasculation. 

As the years have rolled by, all doubts concerning my total submission to cuckoldry have completely disappeared. It is those nights when the three of us can be together in our bedroom while the kids are away, that confirm to me that I have made the right decision with my life. To see Susan's love for our Master grow incrementally with each penetration of his member into her welcoming body, each thrust of pleasure, and every flooding of her womb with his seed has been a joy for me (and her of course). And as my own little penis – now all but permanently encased in a cage – shrank even further due to lack of sexual use, I took even more satisfaction from routinely honouring and pleasuring Master's manhood. 

Like Clive before me, I became the stay at home husband who looked after the kids while his Wife has a wonderful time with her Lover. Because of this, Susan and Raoul were often jetting away in his Citation to nice warm beaches where they could be alone and free to physically confirm their love for each other – often. And to their credit, they were always happy to send me notification that their desire for each other will never be diminished.

... their desire for each other

will never be diminished.

It is amazing how history repeats itself. Our lives were settled, Tom and Jenni were established at their respective schools, I was happy in my feminized cuckold life, and my Wife was contented and very satisfied as Raoul's Mistress. But one evening, before going to bed, Susan an Master asked me to sit down as they ‘had something to tell me’. 

Previously, I had instinctively felt the change in their relationship; their (our) outrageous sexual exploits had become more considered and thoughtful, their chatter became a loving and peaceful companionship. So it was no surprise when Susan told me to remove my panties and then deftly  hung a small plastic phial containing her birth control pills from my penis cage. 

There it was! My total cuckolding! My Wife was now going to make a new life with her Lover and I, her husband, was expected to play my part in the whole process. It should have been the most degrading moment in my life and my world should have fallen in. I should have cried pitifully at my humiliation, made angry threats, or fell to the floor begging them not to present proof to the whole world of the total capitulation of my manliness. But I said nothing and meekly obeyed Mistress when she told me to go up to our bedroom and prepare our bed for the night ahead. 

“Yes Mistress,” I replied as I meekly climbed the stairs to turn down the bed for our Master and my Wife. 

You may recall that my hands had trembled with suppressed emotion when, in Crete on holiday, I had started to prepare Susan for dates with Raoul. Gradually, during that holiday and in the years since, helping her look attractive for him had become a normal part of my life and I was now doing so without the ‘suppressed emotion I had initially suffered from. But with the phial now swinging gently from my penis cage as I moved as confirmation of my total cuckolding, the trembling returned. 

It was Susan's voice in my ear that calmed me. She could see that I had become anguished at the latest development of my being replaced as her ‘mate'; and it was her gentle cool hand on my shoulder as she said, “I was always going to give our Master a son or daughter David. Surely you knew that?” that all but stopped the shaking. 

She was right. Clare had done so, Abigail had done so, all of those auctioned Mistresses had done so, and countless other Wives had also been willingly impregnated by their dark Lovers despite being married to a white husband. So why had I thought that it wouldn't happen to me? The truth was that I had put it to the back of my mind, but now it was going to happen it had shaken me to the core. And I knew that it was something that I would have to get used to. 

“Undress us cuckold,” Susan said quietly, so as not to startle the quivering mouse of a man kneeling on the floor before her. 

“Yes Mistress,” I replied, unclipping her stocking tops from the red silk suspenders belt she was wearing (as was I), “and I'm sorry for being so weak.” 

“That's alright,” she replied a moment later as she lay on the bed with her long legs open wide waiting for me to finish licking, swallowing, and stroking Master's member to its full size and strength, ”we both understand. Don't we Master!” 

“Indeed we do,” he replied as he pulled my head forward in order to push the hard round glans of his manhood down onto my tonsils. 

That night was the first of many nights we enjoyed together. With my ‘emotions' now under control, I was now the perfect cuckold ‘cleaner reviver' and worked assiduously at ensuring that their mating was always enjoyable and effective. So effective that just two months later Susan presented Master and me with a positive result on the test kit she had kept in the bathroom cabinet. And three months later the result of her love for her Master was there for all to see.

... her love for her Master

was there for all to see.

I have often asked myself why I let this happen to me – to us even. Why in the very first place did I suggest to Susan that she should find a replacement for me? Why did I stand aside as Master seduced her (or did she seduce him?)? Why did I embrace the sticky humiliating gay acts of subjugation in those nights with Clare and Marcus? And why did I welcome those same nights with my own Wife and her Lover? These are all good questions that real man would have the answer to – he wouldn't. 

Brenda, it seems, had chosen well and could foresee that one day I would recognize my inadequacy and that Susan would once again return to the Natural Order. As she was later to tell me, she had seen in me the very traits and characteristics of a cuckold even when I was dating her daughter. Susan had known it too but still developed a love for me despite knowing what our eventual future would be; and still does but in a much more moderated way. As she rightly says, “My capacity for Love has no limits. My children, my parents, and you my sweet gentle cuckold – my rock!” 

“And what of Master?” I asked, “what of your love for him?” 

“It is complete, total, physically passionate, and forever,” she replied. 

“Replacing me?” 

“Your Replacement? Of course!” 

So why am I a cuckold? One could try and psychoanalyse it all and arrive at many different conclusions, and good luck to you. But let me tell you, since that very first moment of understanding I have loved every minute of my journey into the delightful realms of the Natural Order.