The Story of Elaine, Jackson, and cuckold james.

 Chapter 25. The Day of the Wedding - Part One

 

Hours later, I could still feel Alana’s soft and intimate tongue on my ‘little man’ despite my cage having been ‘re-secured' moments after ejaculating into her pretty mouth. Not only had the delightful orgasm that she had treated me to rocked my own little world, the thought that it was my best friend Alan who had done so had disorientated me emotionally. And the secret smile on her face as she had left me naked in the Library told me that she knew it. And why was I now thinking of him now as ‘her’?

The evening had ended for me after Master and Mistress had decided that the bedroom upstairs exerted a strong pull on their emotions and desire that could not be denied. Having returned to them from the Library with my little restraint back on my penis, I tried to catch Alan’s eye but she was deeply ensconced in the sanctuary of Bruno and Madeleine's little circle and deliberately did not look my way.

I felt a little disconcerted at Alana's blanking of me but I understood the reason why. While these were strange times for me, they were even stranger for her – him – whatever! Although I had always thought that Alan and I were not the usual beer-swilling football supporters, I had never thought that he had ‘man on man’ sexual tendencies, but on the other hand a week ago I would not have considered fellating my Wife's Black Lover a normal heterosexual activity. I had abandoned my manliness to a life-changing state of sexual emasculation.

That night, Elaine and Jackson's lovemaking had changed from the free-wheeling, rampant and, in many ways, selfish pleasure-seeking ‘f*ck at all costs’ athletics, to a gentle love-making. She had held his eyes with a warm gaze as she had had laid back on the bed to open her long legs and smile in welcome as his dark fleshy pole had entered her. Her sigh of joy at his penetration echoed his own gasp of delight as he felt her warm vagina engulf his rock hard manhood. A manhood, it musty be said, that was rock hard due to my attentions with my tongue and gentle fingers.

Little was said between us, my Wife and her Master, knew what they were doing and why. I, the cuckold, knew it too – although the new purpose of their mating had only been announced to me, and all others in that hall that evening. But if I needed any reminding of their mission, the little packet of 'Microgynon 30’ that I had been given was the prompt – not that I needed one.

It had been early morning after their lovemaking had waned and sleep had overcome us. Like the dutiful husband/cuckold that I was, I had slurped and cleaned Elaine’s labia and vagina entrance conscientiously as well as resurrecting Jackson's member at least three times before I lost count. And each time I heard Master roar in triumph as his seed erupted, I was fully aware that this may be the moment when he impregnated my Wife. It should have been a deeply unsettling thought, but for a reason unknown to me - then, it was not; but it would not be until weeks later would I fully understand just what the Natural Order was in reality.

As I had, the previous morning, I arose while the two Lover’s were still asleep, and went to use the bathroom. As I had the previous morning, I looked out of the window across the sea and the beach below and marvel at the colours of the green hills, golden sand, and azure blue sea. It was early for a Sunday morning, but because the weather had remained warm, there were people already on the beach – fully naked and going places. And I was curious to know where.

And I was curious to know where.

I finished my ablutions, crept in to the bedroom and quietly put on a pair of sandals, and short trousers over my restraint – I was decent enough to face the world. I made my way to the bench overlooking the beach where John and I had sat the day before where he had opened my eyes to the realities of being a cuckold and his part of, what did he call it? The Natural Order, that was it! And the mission he and his Wife Jennifer had embarked upon to pair vigorous Black Lovers to unsatisfied Wives.

I sat in the sun for about an hour, watching the naked couple meet up with some others who were then joined by young and heavily hung Black Men who immediately started to make moves on the Ladies in full view of their husbands. It was a happy scene as each couple headed for the dunes behind, the sea to splash and have fun prior to making love somewhere on the sand or under the tower.

... somewhere on the sand ...

Each cuckold had known exactly what their Wives were there for and sat peacefully chatting together in small groups while keeping an eye on the Ladies and their enjoyment. ‘This is cuckolding on an industrial scale,’ I thought. And my revelation was confirmed seconds later as the sweet voice of Jennifer Smith interrupted my thinking.

“You know James,” she said as she parked her nice round arse on the bench beside me, “there seems to be more and more each year.”

“Husbands like me, you mean?”

“Of course Dear!”

“Where have they come from?” I asked.

“Oh! All over.” she replied. “Many come down from London for the day. Some are locals, and others from – well – all over.”

“And the Black Guys,” I asked as I watched yet another newly arrived young Wife disappear from her husband's view with a particularly ‘hung' young stud.

“Our students,” Jennifer replied with obvious pride, “we let them loose in their last year before  graduation. But didn't you see all this last week?”

“I looked, but didn't see,” was my truthful reply.

Jennifer's nose wrinkled as she smiled sympathetically and replied, “Of course cj. I fully understand.”

After an half-hour in the sun, I was not in the mood to go down to the beach; I would have been out of place in such a happy orgiastic setting anyway. And in my obsession with the ‘goings on' I could feel that I had mild sunburn on my shoulders and neck.

“Walk with me James (not cj?),” Jennifer said, “I want to talk about Alana.”

We stood and turned, but not before we caught the sight of one of the young Wives adjusting and then locking her husband's penis cage.

“Love is a many-splendored thing – don't you think cj?” Jennifer asked, referring to that old film and Andy Williams song.

“Love is a many-splendored thing ..."

“It certainly is Jenny,” I responded thoughtfully, “especially when sacrifices are made.”

“Just to be sure cj,” she said while walking back to the house beside me, “all, or most, of those hubbies down there on that beach are very happy to make them.”

“Why?”

“You ask me that, when your own little willy is under lock and key?” she responded – with a question.

“I'm still trying to understand just what has happened to me.”

She stopped and turned to face me; with the beautiful manor house behind her, she told me something that I should have already realised but had failed to do so. “Just as you have, they have realised that they are failing sexually, and that their Wives deserve the best; so they find solace in the reality of their love of the superior male Lover ...”

“The Black Lover?” I interjected.

“Of course! Naturally! And that is why they – and you – have chosen to wear the cuckold's restraint.” She stopped for a second to look unblinking into my eyes. “And you like wearing yours – just as they do. I'm right aren't I?”

I did like wearing my plastic restraint. It felt comforting and in quiet moments I had looked for different types; in fact I had ordered a small metal cage that I was hoping to trial the following week.

“You are Mistress,” I replied, suddenly realising the reason , or reasons, that I had accepted my cuckolding so easily, “I do like wearing it. I like the physical comfort of it and the emotional significance of it.”

“And that is?”

“My complete subjugation by my lovely Wife and her Master. I have become accustomed to my new life so quickly that the cage has become a welcome emblem of that enslavement,” I replied, smiling and relieved that I had got this statement off my chest to someone, outside of my immediate circle, who would understand my feelings.

Jennifer smiled back at me and raised her arm to put it around my back and manoeuvre me up the steps of the house, but as she touched my skin I yelled in pain. ‘Brilliant! You idiot!’ I thought – you have sunburn. I had sat too long in the sun.

“Oh you silly boy,” Jennifer exclaimed, with a worried frown creasing her pretty forehead. “Let's get some Calamine on your shoulders.”

Josie had heard Jennifer's, albeit concerned, tender, and much deserved, reproach for my stupidity and stood waiting at the top medical room with a bottle of the White fluid in one hand and a swab of cotton wool in the other.

Her broad Yorkshire accent was comforting as she dabbed the cool chalky liquid onto my shoulders and neck. “I thought you were very dignified last night cj,” she said as the pain and itching started to recede, “I only wish that my own hubby had been as gentle and understanding as you.”

“Are you still married?” I asked.

“Legally – yes. But I have my own Master now. This place is my home, and Henry's loving has given me the stability that my teenage daughters and I need.”

“Jenny says that you and Henry ...” I remembered Kevin's words, “... have gone into production.”

Josie laughed aloud. “I was married for fifteen years to a drunken idiot who nearly killed a young couple by drunk driving. So when a man like Henry comes along and wants you as his mate – YOU MATE! Whenever he wants, however he wants, and wherever he wants.”

“Sounds extreme.”

“Not If you love the Natural Order. And I do! All of it! Just like your pretty Missus, Elaine.”

“You know her?” I asked – suddenly curious to know what this no-nonsense Yorkshire Lady knew.

“Not really, except that there are a lot of Wives here who are very jealous.”

“Jealous? Why?”

“Because she has bagged one of the biggest most handsome studs here at the Manor,” Josie replied. “No wonder she wants him to grow his seed inside her.”

“As does he,” I added.

“Hell of a thing for you to find out. Standing naked in front of all your friends with your little willy all caged up,” she commented as she handed me my tee shirt and screwed the top back on the bottle of Calamine.

“I'm a cuckold, Josie,” I replied. “And a cuckold accepts.”

“Accepts what cj?”

“The Natural Order of course.”

“So you're ready to see Elaine’s flat little tummy swell, and those pretty breasts of hers fill with milk?”

Her words struck me like a brick. Of course this would happen to my lovely Wife. Jackson would put a tiny replica (or replicas) of himself inside her, of that there was no doubt. And then I thought, ‘or has he done so already. Is that why they were in such a hurry to ‘out me’ as a cuckold? Did it matter that we had made love on Monday night? Was my Wife already carrying another man's child that night? Have I become the ‘complete’ cuckold so soon? Like Alan? Are they going to tell me soon? Would they even bother?’

These questions flashed through my mind in an instant as the nice, but forthright, Yorkshire Lady turned away to place the bottle back in the medicine cabinet. But I had made my choice to submit to my emasculation as many have done before me, so my answer to her was the same. “A cuckold readily accepts, Mistress!”

“A cuckold readily accepts, Mistress!”

“Good boy,” Josie said quietly in my ear as Jennifer walked back into the room.

“And what are you two talking about?” Jennifer asked as she inspected my white chalky shoulders.

“Our friend readily accepts his new life,” Josie replied.

I stood up and moved to leave, but Jennifer stood in my way and said, “Now tell me about you and Alana.”

She swung around and left the room, nevertheless leaving me in no doubt that I was obliged to follow. We walked together down the long corridor where my room was located and stopped. “What do you want to know?” I asked.

“What is she to you, James?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't answer a question with another question, cuckold,” was her stern response.

Her well proportioned breasts heaved in indignation and her eyes flashed with impatience, so I chose a courageous course of action – and surrendered.

“He – she – used to be my best friend – or still is – I think,” I stuttered.

“You're a gay couple?”

“What? NO!”

She looked surprised, and I must have looked confused, because she then muttered, “Oh I just thought ....” And let her voice trail away.

I needed to explain. “It wasn't until a couple of nights ago that I discovered that my best friend Alan now wants to be called Alana. Until then he  was my best friend – my football mate – my drinking buddy.”

“And how do you feel about that James?”

“I don't know how I feel.”

“Are you attracted to her?”

“Alan? F*ck No! But Alana is ......” I couldn't finish the sentence.

“Pretty?”

That was it! She was pretty. Dressed and made up she looked very feminine; even her little pink penis was pretty.

“Yes!” I responded in a moment of clarity, “I guess I am attracted to her.”

“But not to him?”

“Christ no!”

“Has anything happened between you?”

All of a sudden I felt uneasy. What was the hidden meaning of her question? Did she know what Alana and I had done in the Library less than twelve hours before? I would not know the answer to that question for ten years or more but that morning all I knew was that Jennifer was a very insightful Woman. So I decided to lie.

“No! Why?”

She smiled, but her eyes showed disbelief as she replied, “Okay! We'll leave it at that. We both need to dress.” before leaving me to return to Josie’s small office/reception/medical room.

Elaine was pulling up her french-knickers over her long lovely legs as I entered our room, and just for a second I felt that rush of natural desire, which was almost immediately dispersed by the sudden restriction of the physical restraint on my ‘little man’.

I felt that rush of natural desire, ...

She saw me and looked up. “Oh there you are cj! Maddie needs you to help Alana prepare for the ceremony – so upstairs with you to their room. She has the suit you shall be wearing for the ceremony – you can change there.”

I climbed the old, wide staircase to the upper floor of the mansion and paused just before knocking on the door to Madeleine, Bruno, and Alana's room. I was undecided, and held back instinctively knowing that by the end of that day my life was going to take yet another turn in a certain, but unspecified, direction.

I entered quietly and saw Maddie sat at the dressing table in her tiny knickers making very technical adjustments to her hair and make-up. Her pretty face showed some strain as she struggled to position herself in the chair to obtain a comfortable position that her extended belly and bare breasts were preventing.

“Can I help Mistress?” I asked.

“Oh there you are James,” she said without turning, “come over here and help me.”

“Are you having difficulties?”

“Yes little man. My breasts keep getting in the way, so I want you to come and hold them out of the way while I finish preparing for our ceremony,” was her answer – to which I stood open-mouthed and confused.

“You want me to hold your breasts?”

“That's right. Come on get over here and help me.”

“You're my best friend's Wife,” I muttered as I manoeuvred around behind her. “It's a bit inappropriate isn't it?”

“If you were a man like my Bruno or your Wife's Master then it would be. But you’re a cuckold slave, so it isn't inappropriate – is it!”

So that was it. I was no longer a man in my Wife's best friend's mind. I was something to be used as she saw fit; and me holding her bare breasts had absolutely no sexual implication at all. And I knew her to be correct in her assumption.

“No Mistress,” I replied, as I wondered what Alana would say if she were to walk in the room at that moment. I stood with those soft warm globes in each hand for approximately three minutes before asking the pretty blond where my best friend was.

“She's in the shower room with Master Bruno”, was her terse reply as a final layer of eye shadow was applied. A minute later she had finished and told me to release my hold.

“You can let my big milk-sacks and go,” she had said. “Now take those things off and join the others in the shower.”

“Yes Mistress!”

“And James?”

“Yes Mistress?”

She turned to me and smiled. “Thanks!”

I entered the shower room after abandoning my clothes on the floor and walked naked towards the shower cubicle. The shapes of the  two figures inside were diffused by the water on the glass screen but I could discern the large dark mahogany coloured body of Bruno standing upright with his hands on his hips and the smaller pink body of Alana kneeling at his feet. I stood and waited patiently for my, now feminized, best friend to say something – but it was the big strong Black Man’s voice that filled the room.

“Hey cj!” Bruno called – his voice loud, above the sound of the spraying water, “get in here and help your little friend out for a while.”

I slid back the glazed door and looked in. It was a spacious area for washing oneself and was clearly designed for two (or three) to freshen themselves or to have fun. Clearly John and Jennifer Smith has thought of everything in their mission to give pretty Wives some very happy memories.

Alana was naked, at Bruno's feet, and dispensing pleasure to her Master whose dark manhood stood out horizontally from his groin. Her slim fingers brushed and swept up and down the thick member as her delicate lips kissed the bulbous round glans in a tender gesture of submission. She was showing her devotion in a very unmistakable way, and I could tell from her demeanour that her attentions were not a chore; she was enjoying what she was doing.

She looked up at my entrance, turned to me and gave me the sweetest of smiles, and then turned back to her Master's big manhood. Gradually it rose from the horizontal to the vertical as Alana worked expertly, increasing his pleasure with each lick, kiss, stroke and deep devouring into her throat.

Groans and sighs emanated from the big Black Stud as Alana worked her magic, until finally he pulled Alana's head down onto his cock and immediately started thrusting the hardened organ into her mouth and tonsils. She was being used like a back-street whore. As an instrument of gratification – a toy for his pleasure, and eventually a vessel within which to deposit his semen.

Bruno roared, grunted, and then roared again as each pulse of his thick member streamed his potent seed into the mouth and throat of the feminized cuckold kneeling before him. Again and again his rod spurted, and repeatedly she took his salty cream down her throat without a drop being spilt on the floor of the shower or down her dainty lips and chin.

Bruno stepped away to enable his softened member to fall out of her mouth and moved alongside me to look down at the still kneeling Alana.

“Alana needs you to help her for the wedding,” he said as he eased past me to reach for a nearby towel.

“Yes Master,” I replied – at which his eyebrows raised in appreciation.

“Are you okay?” I asked Alana, slightly worried that she might be in a high emotional state – or worse.

“Of course!” she replied.

“Do you do that for him often?”

“Yes! Of course! More now that Maddie is getting closer to giving birth,” she replied. “Before, it was just once or twice a week. Now it's every morning.”

“That's heavy,” I exclaimed.

Alana looked puzzled as she said, “Why do you say that James? I like doing that for him. In fact I love it. It's just natural for someone like us to show our affection for our Master’s.”

“Well it looked pretty heavy,” was my double-entendre response, to which she giggled; not like my friend Alan – more like my new ........ Girlfriend???????

She stood, moved under the shower jets, and turned to face me as streams of water coursed down her pink shoulders, arms, body, and little penis.

Penis? It was unrestrained, naked, tiny and floppy, like a tiny pink prawn on top of a small pink sack. It was just as pretty as it had been the other evening, when it had been released into the world.

“Aren't you going to wash me, James?”

“Wash you? Is that what I am here for?” I said.

“To prepare me for the wedding. I need to be clean and pretty - and, as you are giving me away, it's your job to make sure I am ready for the big day ahead.”

Leaning towards her, I grabbed the sponge and bottle of liquid soap from the rack behind Alana's shoulder, suddenly aware that my free hand had brushed the tip of the pink penis that, even now, was reacting to my almost naked presence.

“Sorry!” I exclaimed as I felt Alana suddenly flinch.

She remained silent for a second, and then asked, “Was that on purpose James?”

“No!” I replied honestly. “But, I don't know why you jumped. It's not the first time is it.”

“These things need getting used to.”

She had said just what I had been thinking. In reality, I was standing naked with my best friend, in a shower, with my caged ‘Tiny Tim' less than an inch from his own. And momentarily there was a close moment between us. My (very) unique best friend and I; two Cuckold’s who had chosen to face their unmanning in different ways and were now patiently exploring their new relationship - whatever it was.

“Then I had better get busy,” was my response as I knelt before her and started to wash her feet. And as I did so, I knew that I was beginning to enjoy my ‘slave routine'.

Alana spread her legs for me to wash her thighs, that were now as soft as a young Woman’s from repetitive wax hair removal, exfoliation, and applications of sweet smelling unguents. She had very pretty legs, did my best friend; and she was about to show me just how much she was ‘getting used to it’.

I was concentrating my attention to her dainty knees when I became aware that she had eased her groin forward slightly, so when I looked up eventually, my face came into contact with her little pencil-dick. Her pretty face had a happy mischievous look to it as she placed her hand behind my head to press the tiny stiff flesh against my own. I knew what she wanted, so there was only one thing a cuckold slave should do in such circumstances, and that was to welcome it’s round purple glans onto my tongue – again!