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A Case of Mistaken Identity

by Gary

08/13/2016 00:55 in cuckold

This is a work of fiction. It involves female domination and forced bi-sexuality. If you don't care for this subject please feel free to go elsewhere.


I met Ginger a few months after her divorce from "Mr. Right". His name was Scott and I guess was perfect in every way except one. Ginger thought she had won the matrimonial lottery. Scott was incredibly handsome, well off financially and appeared to dote on her. She was head over heels in love. At least until she came home unexpectedly and found Scott and Ginger's best friend doing the big nasty in Ginger's marriage bed. In flagrante delicto, as they say. In a fit of jealous rage Ginger packed her bags and left. Never spoke to Mr. Right again except through her lawyer.

I met Ginger at the club where we both work-out. She's a knock-out in every way, funny, smart, sexy and playful. Our romance progressed slowly but steadily until I was ready to broach the subject of marriage. Ginger shut me down cold. She started backing away from our relationship. Growing colder, more distant. Things went from bad to worse until I finally confronted her. Ginger confessed that she was scared of committing to another marriage, afraid that I would prove as faithless as Scott. I tried every thing I could think of but Ginger was adamant.

Then one night I was channel surfing my cable service and stumbled across a brief story concerning male chastity. I'd never heard of such a thing so I went on line and ran a generic search for male chastity and turned-up over a million links. To make a long story short I found the web site of a German company that makes high quality stainless steel male chastity belts. I thought this could be the answer to Ginger's concerns. When I first presented the idea her response was cool. It seemed too weird and impractical. I persisted (fool that I am) and eventually bought one. After a long break-in period I finally turned over the keys to my beloved and presented myself to her fitted into my belt. I gave her the lock and all the keys and told her I was hers and hers alone there would never be, could never be any other as long as she had the keys. If she was willing to try a trial period we would move in together and live as husband and wife for a year and prove to her that the belt was effective and my commitment to her was absolute. She finally agreed.

Our year started out with very few changes. Ginger only kept me locked when we were apart. The rest of the time I was free of my metal underwear. We made love like always, with the same frequency and intensity. We were a happy couple without a care in the world. As the end of our year approached, though, things began to change. They were subtle almost imperceptible shifts. The most disturbing one to me was when Ginger called out Scott's name while we were making love. When I brought it to her attention she denied it said I was imagining things. I knew what I heard. After that I noticed that the frequency of our love making began to diminish slightly. I passed it off to the end of newly weds bliss. What was more ominous but less obvious was that I wasn't being released from my chastity belt quite as often as before. Now I sometimes wore it 2 or 3 days straight.

At the end of our year Ginger said she wanted to extend the experiment for another year. She liked the way things were progressing but still wasn't one hundred percent convinced. She said if I truly loved her I would wait. She said that while the first year had gone well it had gone too well. Nothing had happened to stress our relationship so she couldn't gauge how we would fare under adverse circumstances. I reluctantly agreed. Ginger was happy. She told me that in the beginning she was uncomfortable with the idea of being a key holder (where did that word come from?) but she had worked her way through it and in the process had been on-line reading about people in similar situations as ours. From her research she thought there might be some untapped potential benefits in having me chastised and she was anxious to explore some of them this upcoming year.

Ginger said that she wanted to "celebrate" my chastity, not hide it. From now on she wanted me to wear the belt 24/7. I would only be released for sex and periodic cleaning. She said that it was too easy to forget I was wearing the belt most of the time so from now on when we were alone, she didn't want me to wear anything which would cover any part of the belt. I protested that this was ridiculous. Ginger replied that it was not ridiculous. She said that always being able to see me in the belt was a constant reminder to her of the depth of my commitment and it would inspire her to commit as deeply to me. I am such a gullible idiot. I agreed. In the end I wound up living totally naked except for the belt. But that was still in my future.

I was now committed to 24/7 in the belt. The frequency of our love making had dropped a little more and I was soon so horny I couldn't think straight. I kept trying to initiate sex. I was attentive and increasing physical, rubbing against her, gently fondling her breasts, stroking her sex when I could get to it. Ginger, more often than not, rebuffed my advances. Sometimes none too gently. Finally I tried to talk to Ginger about this and she got really angry. Ginger said "Scot, men like you use sex as a weapon to keep women in an inferior position in a relationship. Well you screwed-up the last time but it isn't going to happen this time. From now on all sexual activity is my sole prerogative. I say when , where and how. If you argue it will just mean a longer interval before you are released. Understood? " I was stunned speechless. She was talking to me as though I was Scott. We both broke down and cried. Ginger apologized profusely but said that the essential truth of her argument was still valid. She wanted to try a more than an egalitarian relationship, she wanted a measure of control, so for now could I live with having her in charge? Stupid me, I agreed.

When I originally ordered the belt I also ordered all of the possible accessories that were offered. I really didn't think we would ever use them but I didn't want to find out later that we wanted something we didn't already have. During the second year Ginger began experimenting with them. There was a lifelike dildo attachment for the front shield and a lockable rear shield which had removable butt plugs of various sizes. I also ordered a T.E.N.S. unit for receiving minor electric shocks via a remote unit held by Ginger, stainless steel slave collar, wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs. I hated the rear shield and its attachments. If you have never experienced the humiliation of having someone else control when you're allowed to go to the bathroom you can't imagine why I felt so strongly about that rear shield. Additionally, I was not used to having any thing penetrate me there and it was very uncomfortable, especially when Ginger would forget and leave the plug in for extended periods, sometimes overnight. Likewise, the T.E.N.S. unit was miserable. Ginger loved to deliver mild to moderate shocks at random times and places, just to see my reaction. When I complained she said, "Don't be such a baby. You agreed to let me explore this chastity thing and that's all I'm doing. Besides, you seem to really like some of the other parts of the belt". It was true. For all I hated some aspects of wearing the belt I found that I really liked having Ginger in charge of our sex life. It was thrilling, in a way, to be someone's sex object. And, I really liked being restrained by the collar and cuffs during sex. Ginger hadn't failed to notice my reaction. The tighter she restrained me the harder I came. At the same time I was becoming more attentive to her and found pleasure in pleasuring her. Eventually I just took the good with the bad and stopped complaining. Besides, even the mildest of complaints on my part were beginning to set her off.

I suppose it was inevitable. Six months in to our second year together we had a pretty serious row. I wanted to take Ginger to a nice restaurant for a romantic candle lit dinner. Before we left I asked Ginger to please remove my collar and cuffs. This was normal. We never flaunted my "condition" in public. Ginger always removed the collar and cuffs before I went out any place. Tonight she refused. She told me to find some clothes to wear that would hide them. Finding a long sleeved shirt and trousers to cover the cuffs wasn't difficult but there was no way to completely hide the collar and I told her so.

"Quit whining and let's go."

"I'm not whining. I'm not going to be humiliated in public by having everyone see me in a slave collar."

"No one's going to know you're wearing a collar. They'll think its some kind of medical brace and ignore it."

"Why are you doing this? I'm not your slave. I never agreed to any such thing. I only agreed to wear the belt to gain your trust. Not to be humiliated or treated like your slave."

"Don't you dare raise your voice to me. Who do you think you are. This whole thing was your idea. I'm just trying to give you what you want and make it a little fun for myself. This is so typical of you Scott"......

I won't bore you with all the details. Just take it from me it got ugly. When it was over Ginger was locked in our bedroom and I was sleeping on the couch. We didn't speak to one another for the rest of the weekend. On Monday morning Ginger left for work without unlocking me. There was no way I could go to the office in collar and cuffs so I took the day off and contemplated my situation. I was still in love with Ginger, maybe more than ever but I wasn't happy about how some of this chastity thing was turning-out. Much to my surprise, I found that, more and more, I enjoyed letting Ginger take the lead in our daily lives. It was comforting, in a way, to allow myself a subservient role, to let Ginger make my decisions for me. I didn't mind that sometimes I gave her pleasure without receiving any in return. That was just one more unpredictability in her spontaneous flair for sex I didn't mind helping more around the house, cooking, cleaning and so forth. But I didn't want to be made a spectacle of in public. Besides, the whole idea here was just to reassure Ginger that I would remain faithful, not to take away any of my freedoms except sex. Not to turn me into a slave. When Ginger got home that evening we sat down to talk. I told her I loved her and how I was feeling. That I was willing to remain chastised to win her trust and to allow her to continue making decisions for me but I didn't want to be publicly humiliated. Chastity was only meant to reassure her of my good intentions. Not surrender my dignity.

Ginger, for her part, said that she loved me too and wanted to make it work between us. I had empowered her to take charge of our relationship, to be the boss instead of a victim and there was no going back for her. If she was going to trust me I had to demonstrate that I trusted her. I needed to stop arguing and complaining and accept that this would never be a fifty-fifty partnership. I had allowed her to take control and she found that she enjoyed the part and wanted more. If I couldn't agree then maybe we should rethink our plans. I admitted that I was surprised to find that there were some parts of having her in control that turned me on more than I ever thought they would but I still didn't want to go public with it. As far as our not having a fifty-fifty partnership I was not comfortable in permanently having a less than equal voice. I didn't mind taking a back seat for now but was uncomfortable in permanently giving-up a measure of control or at least equality in our relationship. Having said that, I was willing to continue our experiment for the remaining six months accepting a secondary position as long as we didn't do any thing to publicly humiliate me. I would place my complete trust in Ginger just as I wanted her to place her trust in me. Ginger then asked me if I was certain I could give her my unquestioning obedience? Could I give up my macho, controlling nature and submit to her will without further argument? I swallowed hard and said yes.

Over the next six months things went fairly smoothly. Ginger continued to refine our respective roles in this increasingly strange relationship. She also continued her experimentation with the accessories to my belt. This was one of the areas that over time came to test my promise of obedience. Ginger never seemed to tire of finding ways of keeping me restrained and mobile at the same time. She would use the T.E.N.S. unit to control my movements in a "Mother May I" sort of game. Pavlovian house work training, as it were. Ginger frequently bound together my wrists and ankles with varying lengths of chain or rope while I had to carry-out my daily tasks. Those tasks got more numerous and difficult all the time. Complicated by varying degrees of restraint. Ginger started to institute a system of rewards and punishments for my performance. These were mild and not the cause of any strain. The problem came when Ginger discovered the dildo attachment to my belt. The first time we used it she just went crazy. I was restrained on the bed, hands over my head, ankles locked together and secured to the foot of the bed. Ginger attached the dildo and then just knelt there for a couple of minutes staring at it, gently stroking it, getting obviously turned-on as she slowly rolled a condom over its 9 inch length. She was already flushed and shining by the time she mounted me. I watched as it's 3 inch diameter slowly stretched her cunt in a way my little member could never do. It seemed to take forever for her to fit the whole thing inside. She moved slowly and gently. When, at last, it was completely buried in her sex, she simply stopped moving altogether. She sat still, impaled on the biggest cock she had ever experienced, easily twice the size of mine.

The perspiration formed on her brow and upper lip. Her face and breasts flushed deep crimson as her breathing came in ragged gasps. As I watched helplessly her stomach muscles began to quiver and she let out a long deep moan. She was cumming and she hadn't even moved a muscle yet. It was the most incredibly sexual moment I have ever witnessed. I was more turned-on than I thought possible and my dick was completely trapped in its stainless steel prison, less than an inch away from all the action. Hard as the steel encasing it and as remote as if it belonged to someone else. After a few minutes Ginger began to rock very slowly. Her eyes were closed and it seemed as if she was on an entirely different planet. Lost in the depths of a carnal lust she had never imagined. Her rocking increased in tempo and she began to move the giant phallus in and out. Only a short distance at first, then farther and farther until she was riding the full length of this amazing shaft. Harder and faster she went as I pumped my hips as best I could, giving me a small measure of stimulation. Not enough, normally, to satisfy but something was better than nothing and this situation was a long way from normal. Perspiration was flying from her soaking body. Her hair looked like she was standing in a wind storm. Harder and faster she went until, at last, she threw her head all the back and screamed at the ceiling. A primal scream of pure sexual ecstasy. She began cursing and calling Scott's name as her cum pooled between my legs and soaked the sheets beneath me. The sexual energy radiating from Ginger was intense and I was crazy with lust with no way to relieve the agony of desire.

I lost track of how many times she came that night. It was certainly a personal best. Maybe an Olympic record. After hours of totally consuming sex, Ginger collapsed on my chest, still impaled by the monster and slept the sleep of the dead. In the following weeks this became the pattern of our love making. Me, locked into my metal underwear, providing the platform for the monster on which my lover satisfied herself. A participant, witness and helper in the most fantastic sex I've ever known and totally unrequited. My need rose to unimaginable proportions. I was frequently reduced to tears by my frustration. I couldn't get any relief and I couldn't ask for any for fear of seeming like I was complaining. I'm not at all certain that I was completely sane after a month of this treatment. I walked around all day every day in a fog of lust and need.

Totally incapable of escaping the exquisite torture of it all. My performance at home and at work began to suffer. My boss suggested I take a vacation and get myself back together (I'm sure he thought I was on drugs). Ginger, for her part, seemed oblivious to the fact that I was being punished several times a day for poor performance at home. Finally, there came a Sunday morning that promised some relief. As had become usual, we spent Saturday night with Ginger performing her gymnastic routines with the monster while I watched helplessly. When Sunday morning arrived I was in desperate straits. Ginger unlocked me and restrained my hands. She washed me thoroughly and patted me dry. I was in heaven. This was the first real stimulation I had gotten in a month. I was laid back on the bed where Ginger really got down to some serious teasing. She started by gently blowing on my rock hard member, then proceeded to kiss it, ever so lightly. With agonizing slowness and a feather light touch she took me into her warm, moist mouth. I could have cum right then but Ginger said no, she would let me cum all I wanted when she was ready. I would have to trust and obey her. Trust and obedience was what we were all about. Ginger began using her nails to scratch the head of my organ and my nipples. I responded with a satisfying moan that told her more than I realized. Later she would use that little piece of information to torture my nipples in her sexiest manner. She was a fast study. It wasn't long until I was lost in world of pure sensation. My entire body became one big frenum. There wasn't anywhere Ginger could touch me that didn't elicit a sexual response. My member was deep purple and throbbing. I was leaking so much pre-cum it almost looked like I was peeing. Finally, when I couldn't stand it anymore I began to beg for release. Ginger said no, I wasn't ready yet .

She stroked me and stopped, stroked and stopped. I was on the edge and couldn't get over. My body was shaking uncontrollably, drenched in sweat and my pre-cum was still pouring out of me but had now turned milky in color. I begged again, then I pleaded, I cried. I was completely unmanned. I was hers to do with as she pleased, I had no pride left. I just wanted release. This was what Ginger was waiting for.

"Do you want to cum now?"

"Oh God. Yes, pleeeeeese."

"Will you do me one little favor before I let you cum?"

"Anything, please, anything at all!"

"Are you sure?"

"I swear to God YES!"

"Okay, I've got some papers I want you sign. As soon as you're done you can cum."

With that she produced a pen and a small stack of papers marked where I as supposed to place my signature. When I looked at the first one I noticed Ginger had already signed it and it was witnessed. Even through my lust filled fog I knew something was wrong. I wanted to read these papers before I signed them. Ginger sensed my hesitation and began her ministrations to my member again. I was lost. I signed everything she put in front of me without any further thought. It's all about trust isn't it? Just before I exploded Ginger asked one more favor. Would I promise that from now on to personally recycle all cum in this house. Even in my madness I knew what she meant but was powerless to resist. I said yes and then produced the largest load I would ever have to consume at one time. Ginger fed it to me with a spoon, one swallow at a time. Each spoonful was another step into the abyss. Abject slavery waited at the bottom.
We were married two months later. Unbeknownst to me, the same week of the paper signing, Ginger had been given a huge promotion. She was now the Vice President for Sales and Marketing of the Eastern United States. Her salary, always bigger than mine, went into the stratosphere. She said she kept it a secret from me because she didn't want it to have any effect on our wedding plans. I believed her. The papers I signed that lust crazed morning turned-out to be the forms to put Ginger's name on all of my accounts and real property. Ginger now owned my bank accounts, car and real estate. I knew it was only a matter of time until she did the same for me. At least I thought she would until I found out about the other documents I signed. There was the pre-nuptial agreement which said that what was Ginger's was Ginger's and what was mine was Ginger's. Not only did Ginger own all I had, it seems she owned me too. One of the documents was a slave contract. Signed sealed, properly witnessed and delivered. I was hers in every way possible. Additionally, in one of the documents, I had petitioned the court for a legal name change which was soon to be granted. I name was now, legally, Scott. I was more than a little pissed and I told her so. Loudly. Ginger responded by saying "Thank you". She said that all her life she had felt used, an object for men to project their fantasies on. Then I came along and for the first time gave her real power. She was transformed. She was now in charge of her life and had me to thank for it. Ginger reassured me that no matter what happened in the future she would always remember that I had freed her. She would always take care of me.

However sweet her words, nothing changed the fact that Ginger had taken possession of everything I owned and even taken possession of me. Within a month all of my accounts were closed, my name was stricken from the titles to all of my property and she arranged for me to quit my job. Ginger said that from now on she wanted me to work at taking care of her 24 hours a day. Whatever else it was called, the bottom line was that I was now a house slave. Ginger even arranged to have my collar and cuffs welded shut. They could never be removed.

In addition to doing all of the cooking, cleaning and laundry to Ginger's most exacting standards while restrained, I was also Ginger's personal slave. Each morning when I awoke (I was no longer allowed to sleep in her bed) I had to prepare a cup of coffee and have it waiting on her nightstand. Before I woke her I had to have her tooth brush ready and the day's lingerie (hand washed, of course) laid-out. I then woke her with a gentle kiss. Most mornings I was allowed to shower and take care of my morning toilet (no bodily eliminations without permission, though) while Ginger enjoyed her coffee and morning business report. When she was ready, I accompanied her into the shower where I washed her hair and body (except her sex, she said I didn't have the right touch) and shaved her legs, armpits and bikini area. When through I dried her off, kissed each of her breasts, her pubis and then as a test of my thoroughness, I had to get down on my knees and lick her asshole. After cleaning out the shower I made Ginger's breakfast. I was no longer allowed to sit at the table with her. In fact, soon I was not allowed on any furniture at all. I had to stand behind her while she ate and make sure she lacked for nothing. When she had had enough breakfast, she set her plate on the floor for me to lick clean of scraps. This was my meal.

At the end of Ginger's typical work day I would be waiting with a glass of her favorite wine or other beverage. After she had a few moments to relax I helped her out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable. Then it was time for Ginger's latest fad, long slow cunnilingus. She would sit on the edge of her favorite easy chair and expose her sex. I would kneel between her thighs and slowly, gently lave the folds of her sex until she was satisfied that I had, with my tongue, washed her clean. She seemed to derive great pleasure from this. Not sexual pleasure so much as pleasure in the knowledge that she had the power to make me perform this distasteful task. It was distasteful in every sense of the word. I was forced to lick away a day's worth of perspiration, urine and vaginal discharges. Not a very sexy time for me but Ginger enjoyed it. Afterwards supper proceeded on the same plan as breakfast. For the rest of the evening I continued my chores (always a challenge with my hands loosely restrained behind my back [that is, my wrists were bound with a two and a half to three and a half foot chain which ran behind my back, ankles had an eighteen inch length of rope tying them together]). Finally, I would lay out Ginger's nightclothes, turn down her bed and prepare her toothbrush. Once Ginger was in bed I would, again, settle between her thighs and lick her softly until she fell asleep.

Ginger had a very healthy appetite for sex. Using the monster or my tongue we had sex every day, twice a day, sometimes more. I also had a healthy appetite for sex, unfortunately my cock was firmly encased in metal. I was horny constantly and it was through this that Ginger kept control over me. I had to please Ginger to earn my relief. I never got to actually fuck her anymore, now I was allowed to periodically masturbate myself to climax, then consume the result. But this form of relief was infrequent, usually I just suffered. I accepted the fact that Ginger had turned my pledge of good faith into a tool of subjugation. That she had outmaneuvered me at every point. I still wasn't beaten. I knew better than to protest aloud because that would only get me punished and further delay my next relief. But I could still submit and remain defiant mentally. I let it show in my posture and attitude. I was down but not out. I was still a man.

One Friday evening Ginger arrived home much later than usual. She was normally in by 8 or 9 pm but tonight it was well after midnight when she came home. She looked like hell. Her make-up was gone, her clothes wrinkled and her pantyhose were missing. Ginger took her drink and told me to strap myself into her bed. This wasn't an unusual request she often "queened" me and I had equipped her bed such that I could bind myself in the position of her choice. I attached the monster and strapped myself to the bed face up. When Ginger came into the room she undressed and climbed on the bed. She had the strangest look I had ever seen on her face. She quickly straddled my face and ordered me to start licking as she settled her opening over my mouth. By this time I was as familiar with her pussy as I was with my own face, having spent a good part of everyday servicing it. It was immediately apparent that Ginger had been having sex. Although I had never tasted another man's cum I knew what my own tasted like and it was definitely another man's cum that I was lapping out of my wife's cunt. I was humiliated in a way I never thought possible and I was furious. To hell with the consequences, I started yelling.

Ginger quickly silenced me by smothering me with her very juicy cunt. "You will do what you are told, when you are told to do it if you want to breathe again." I squirmed helplessly underneath her, outmaneuvered again. I ceased my movement and protests. "Just because your pathetic little pee shooter can't satisfy me doesn't mean I have to do without. The attachment on your belt has given me a taste for big cocks. The real thing - not latex. You shouldn't complain, it's because of you that I even know what a big cock feels like. It was you and your "attachment" that turned me to the thrill of it and now I want it for real. I met a man who can satisfy me with the real thing and I'm going to have him, like it or not. So, you had better get used to the idea fast because I've invited Leroy to spend the weekend. I've told him about us - about you and he's willing to give it a try. So you will be polite. You will serve and obey Leroy just as you would me. And you will not act defiant in any way. Yes I've noticed your feeble little demonstrations of defiance. They're going to stop. You are going to learn to accept your place in this world. I promise."

The following weekend arrived all too soon. On Friday evening around 9pm Ginger and her lover came home. Leroy was big in every respect. He towered over me and out weighed me by fifty pounds of solid muscle. I offered him a drink and tried my best to hide my shame and anger. While in the kitchen I overheard him telling Ginger that he thought she had been joking, he couldn't believe any man would allow himself to be treated like that. I must be some kind of sick puppy. Ginger did not defend me. Throughout the evening Leroy kept looking at me with utter contempt and suspicion in his eyes. At last it was time for bed. Ginger asked Leroy if I could join them in her bedroom and watch a real man at work but, thankfully, Leroy said that was too much too soon. Ginger told me to wait outside the door and be ready to come when called.

Our house is well built and very quiet but that couldn't stop the sounds of their lovemaking from reaching my ears. I was beside myself. I wanted to run away and leave my cruel wife to her new lover but I had nowhere to go. I was ashamed, frustrated and angry by the time I heard Ginger call for me. I entered the room to see Leroy lying across Ginger, both of them covered in sweat. "Honey, please get us a wash cloth and help clean-up". Seething, I did as I was told. I provided them warm washcloths with which to wipe down. I took care of Ginger while Leroy helped himself. As I settled myself between Ginger's thighs Ginger told Leroy he was going to have to get used to having a servant around. It was my job to take care of him as well as her. The next morning after Ginger and Leroy had finished making love I was again called into the room and directed to wipe down the lovers. This time I had to wipe down Leroy as well. This was the first time in my life I had ever touched another man's penis. It was enormous. I thought that the monster was big but this made the monster look puny by comparison. I gently and carefully wiped it clean with the wash cloth. Ginger started laughing and said that I always cleaned her with my mouth and should do no less for Leroy. I don't think he liked the idea any better than I did. But Ginger has a way of getting what she wants and it wasn't long until I had Leroy's cock in my mouth, licking it clean of his and Ginger's lovemaking. Leroy, for his part seemed to get over his initial trepidation fairly quickly. The first time I was forced to take him in my mouth, he began to erect.

I never felt so depressed in my life. As the weeks went by I was forced into more and more humiliation. I now had to remain in the same room, sometimes on the bed with them as they rutted. I wanted out. I couldn't take anymore. I didn't feel much like a man anymore but I still had some shreds of my pride left. After about three weeks of being an observer and participant after the fact my life changed forever. Ginger was on her period. This had never presented much of a problem. She still had me clean her with my mouth but she always left in her tampon. I could taste it but it was never too awful. Ginger said that since she couldn't satisfy Leroy, it was up to me. Ginger insisted that I was going to give Leroy a blow job, the best he ever had. I had finally had enough. There was no way I was going to perform oral sex on another man. Ginger said she and Leroy had already discussed it and decided that I would substitute for Ginger this weekend like it or not. I turned to storm out of the room but Leroy was right there. He grabbed me, pinned my arms behind me while Ginger locked my cuffs together. I was frog marched into the bedroom and forced to my knees. Ginger locked my ankle cuffs together. Still I tried to struggle. Then the unthinkable happened. Leroy slapped me! He bitch slapped me right and left across the face. Leroy said I was nothing more than a disgusting piece of shit and was going to do as I was told or else. With tears streaming down my bruised cheeks I opened my mouth and took him in.

You might think that this was the ultimate insult but I wasn't broken quite yet. On Saturday afternoon Ginger at last found a way to win her ultimate revenge. Since she was on her period and she didn't want to make a mess on Leroy's cock, it would be fun if he fucked her through me. Ginger removed her tampon and lay on her back, hips supported by a pillow. My face was in her cunt and Leroy positioned himself behind my up raised ass. He lubed his cock and slowly, painfully worked it into my almost virgin asshole. The pain was intense and I thought I couldn't survive having anything that size inserted into my tender nether region but eventually he worked it in past my sphincter. Leroy moved slowly at first giving me ample time to accustom myself to his huge manhood. Then his excitement began to grow and he fucked me harder and faster. Ginger grabbed my head and forced it deep into her bloody cunt yelling at me to lick it clean while Leroy pounded into me with the force of a sledgehammer. After an eternity of total abasement Ginger and Leroy came at the same time. Her cunt gushing all over my face while Leroy pumped his hot seed deep into my bowels. Each pulse of his release a stab into my heart. At the moment my ass filled with Leroy's cum and my wife's menses smeared all over my face I broke. I had no more pride, no dignity, no manhood. I wept openly at the loss. I would never again be able to hold my head up, never look a man in the eyes. I had no right to take my place among men. I was nothing. When Leroy told me to turn around and clean his shitty dick with my mouth I didn't even hesitate. I didn't have the right or the will to resist. There was no longer any degrading act I wouldn't perform. No humiliation I wouldn't endure. I was just one more of Ginger's possessions. I was Scott.

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