Caught and Now a Cuckold (Reworked)

The following is a reworking of a story I cam across on the "what-a-shame" website that I thought was pretty hot. I have left the story as I found it, but rewrote the text and dialogue almost (but not quite) completely. The allegedly true story is called "Caught and Now a Cuckold" by "Bruce Burke of Beverly, MA" and the original version can be found here: The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!

Caught and Now a Cuckold (Rewritten)

I have always had a tiny cock that was a disappointment to my wife. She became accustomed using her vibrator and frequently ridiculed my endowment. One afternoon a couple years back my neighbor David was up on a ladder helping me install a new lighting fixture in the bedroom ceiling. As I held the old ladder steady for him, keeping my head down to avoid dust and plaster, I found myself mesmerized by the think long bulge of his cock under his jeans. It bumped at his crotch, but then continued under the rippled fabric in a downward diagonal across his thigh. Not surprisingly, it was longer than mine, but it also appeared to be so thick – like a liverwurst package or a tube sock – I just couldn't stop staring.

He noticed of course, and it wasn't long before I had unbuttoned his fly and wrapped my mouth around it. I had never done anything like that before. I wasn't gay – or at least I thought I wasn't – but I guess I had spent so much time thinking about cocks and wishing I had a big one that I got a bit obsessed. David egged me on, he was clearly aroused by the idea of dominating a man this way. It was awkward after he spurt down my throat, but we went on like nothing had happened and finished up the job.

That was the first time. Within a few days I was regularly sucking him off. He invited me to stroke off for him, but when he saw the size of my cock he couldn't help but make fun of me. He began to make me ask for it. I didn't mind since the added dominance made him hotter and, I was surprised to find, me too. Soon he had me dressing in panties and bras for him. I'm still not sure if it was to ease his conscience for getting sucked by a man or to increase his arousal by humiliating me further.

One day when I was taking a day off, my wife came home from her office unexpectedly to get some paperwork she forgot. We didn't hear her come in over David's moaning. Unaware that she was standing right in the doorway, I sucked away at David's big cock dressed only in my wife's panties and bra. She was smart enough to snap a few pictures with her cell phone, before speaking very calmly,

"David put on your pants."

We both nearly jumped out of our skins and David quickly fumbled into his Dockers, panic-stricken.

"Too bad you're gay," my wife commented mirthfully as he stuffed his in his suddenly soft tackle, "that's a big cock!"

David left without a word or a glance backwards, and my wife stood smiling as I trembled in genuine terror.

"Well now my little fag! It been bad enough putting up with that puny thing you call a cock, but now I find you're a cocksucker too?" She paused, but I was speechless. "Ten years of a cock I can hardly feel let alone get off on, and this is how you repay me? No, no, no no, my little dicked cocksucker! Things are going to change around here. Things are different now."

"You have a choice. I can take these pictures to Monica and show her; I'm sure she'd get quite a laugh, but then she'd probably recommend I sue your sissy ass for divorce." My stomach fell through the floor at the mention of our lawyer – an old friend from school days – I knew instinctively my wife was right and could practically see Monica gasping for breath from laughing so hard.

"Adultery; won't that look good to your family and friends? With another woman, that would be bad enough, but with another man....you would never live this down in Beverly, would you?" she was calm, but taunting; surprisingly she didn't seem mad, just resolved. "You could try to go and start again somewhere new, but then with the Internet, your past follows you everywhere these days – and there would always be the court record."

I was immobile. My life had fallen away in front of my eyes. I could see their faces. I could see my ruin. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had never felt so disempowered in all my life. It terrified me, but I also felt a sense of peace that surprised me. The way you feel when you've lost control of the car and you just accept that you are crashing and hope to get through it as fast as you can. But my wife wasn't finished...

"Your other choice, and I think your best and, really, only choice, is this: You come with me to see Monica and I lock the pictures in her safe. We can have her draw up a confession, signed by you, for some added proof. Not that I'll need it with these pictures, and with David as a witness. And don't think the fairy won't give you up rather than face being named in the suit and be exposed himself."

I saw the truth in this too. David had too much to lose and would go a long way to protect his reputation. Sealed signed testimony would be much better than a court appearance or publicity.

"Monica can also draw up some papers transferring the house, car, and accounts into my name alone. You can continue to live here, so you won't be out on the streets. In fact, you will live here until I say you can leave. However there will be a few conditions to staying in MY home. First of all, you will never touch my body again in anyway, you disgusting fag. Since you like to wear panties and bras so much, you will wear them all the time. To go with them, I will buy you a cute little French Maid's uniform like the one Jeanne got for her husband."

What? I thought. Crossdressing? And what was this about Jeanne's husband? Jeanne was a friend from her gym class I'd heard her speak of but never met. As if she could read my thoughts, my wife continued:

"Jeanne's husband is also a queer. She brought me over to her house to see him. He served us cakes and minced about. You will wear your outfit and do the same when I return the hospitality, or when any of my girlfriends come by. Or my boyfriends. Like Jeanne's husband you will also be a 'cuckold.' Do you know what that means? It means I'll get the real sized cocks of real men for a change instead of you tiny, little, limp faggot stick."

This was a turn I never expected. Divorce, yes. Blackmail to get all the assets, OK. But this I never expected in a 100 years. Yes, my wife was a capable professional and strong confident woman. Yes I knew she had grown to enjoy berating me for my small dick, but I really never saw her as a domme type – putting her husband in a dress and fucking guys in front of him. Yet she didn't seem mad, like it was what should hurt me most. She seemed eager and expectant.

"Don't worry. I'll be nice enough. When your friends or relatives visit and you can pretend to be the man. You can even pretend to be (she laughed) in charge! But any other time you will cook my meals, do the laundry, and clean the house, and perform any other duties I order you to including your favorite." she mocked me drawing out the word and licking her lips. "And I can't wait to see you suck certain people's cocks, like my ex. I don't know why I ever left him for you in the first place. He was always so much better looking than you. More fit. Better in bed. And, of course, his cock was huge as a horse – I can't wait to see you wrap your lips around it."

She was mocking me gleefully now. I continued to cower on the floor, holding a pillow in front of my lingerie-clad body. She walked a bit over towards me, looking down with twinkling contempt in her eyes.

"He always resented you and has always wanted to kick your ass. I am sure he'll be willing to bend you over and split your faggot ass wide open in return for getting back inside me."

My eyes grew wide with fear and she saw it immediately.

"Ohh, David never fucked your homo ass sissy boy?" she asked with mock sympathy, "Well, now you'll get to see what a real cock feels like!"

"No, noo," I managed to stammer "I'm not g-gay."

"Not gay? You cocksucker? Do you need to see the photos yourself? Because if that's what you want, there are going to be plenty of copies all over the place – mailboxes, email, desks at work, maybe I'll even go out and staple a few to the lampposts after the divorce is final. Yes, you'll be the talk of Beverly and then you can ask everyone in town what their assessment of your gayness is."

She was hard and unyielding, with steel in her voice.

"Or, you can take option B and no one need know. Well, almost no one. But like I said, I'll go along when your friends and family come over. As long as you stick to the rules, they will still think you are a man. I'll even keep your work out of it, we need the income. But, there will be no masturbating unless I tell you to, and I'll tell you right now that when that happens, it will be in front of my girlfriends to see how a guy so small needs only two fingers."

Well here I am in one of my new maid's outfit. This is not the first one she bought me. I now have four for different times of day and occasions. I just finished running my wife's bath and am about to head into the kitchen to start dinner. Her ex-husband is coming over again tonight; he is a pretty frequent guest. Last night I sucked his cock back to completion while she clicked photos. He had given her a tremendous orgasm and she thought he deserved a reward. Since he had already come twice, it took me some time, but I am getting good at this now. They will be be joined at dinner by two of my wife's girlfriends and their husbands. They haven't seen me like this before, but they aren't the first guests and I know the drill. I will answer the door and serve in my uniform. After dinner I will be summoned to the living room to masturbate my tiny cock for them, all they while confessing to being a "sissy fag cock whore." Usually I am dismissed to the kitchen to clean-up afterwards.
Pantalone, Wittol, oblate, abnegator, fellator, pathic, irrumatiophile,fop, epicene, cotquean, skivvy, thrall, and pilgarlic.