A Change in Our Marriage - The Sissy Cuckold

by Sara Desmarais

  "Can you feel it," she asked me, biting my ear.

  I closed my eyes, shame and excitement, equally washing over me.

  Her fingers traced back up my thighs, slowly, toying with me, playing with my garter straps, then gone again.

  "You can still feel it, can't you," she moaned, and I felt her fingers again on my ass, my pucker, cold, wet, lubricated, suddenly plunging into me. I let out a gasp. Her fingers continued their invasion, probing, pushing, spreading me, finding a spot of excitement inside me.

  I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood, the only way I could keep from crying out from terror, excitement, shock. Just as I started to surrender, just as the waves of sexual pleasure began to swamp my brain, my brain fought back, pushed back, reminding my body what my wife intended to do. I bit my lip again to keep from crying out. I struggled to pull away from her hand, to get her fingers out of me. The rush of sexual energy, almost climactic, almost orgasmic, began to crest, threatening to flood my brain. I fought against it, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. I knew what she wanted, my surrender, my submission, and I fought giving it to her. I closed my eyes, trying to force the waves away, jerked my hands tight against their bonds. The bed creaked, but the bonds held, there was no escape, between the bondage and Sara's weight on my back, there was no escape, only surrender. Suddenly Sara's hands withdrew from me and I felt her shift, knowing what was coming.

  I turned my head back to look at her and saw her taking her cock into her hand, shifting it. I saw the hunger in her eyes, the animalistic hunger to conquer. I wanted to rebel against it, against her, but the logic in my brain was suddenly swept away by my own hunger, and my hips moved upward, my ass, up, to make a better target, to meet Sara's cock. I shook my head sharply, breaking the gaze of Sara's eyes. I couldn't look at her, I could not meet her gaze. The hunger in her eyes was hypnotic, the gaze, her gaze, like that of a Vampire, breaking down the resistance of her victim, making him ask, beg, for his own death. I twisted away, trying to move my hips away again.

  Sara bent down, her mouth resting on my ear. "I won't force you lover. You can pretend I will, but you know I won't. Just tell me no, love, that's all you have to do. Tell me to stop, and I'll untie you."

  Her hand slipped back down to my thighs, parting them before I could clench them together. Her fingers plunged back inside me, probing, spreading me, before I could clench my muscles, my ass, shut. I shuddered, moaned. My own body betrayed me, betrayed the sexual hunger I felt, betrayed the need.

  Sara withdrew her fingers again, shifted, and then I felt it for the first time, the tip of her cock at the edge of me, brushing against me, but holding there.

  "Tell me to stop," she whispered. "Just tell me, just say the word, just say no."

  I looked over my shoulder, glaring at her, but the words wouldn't come to my lips, wouldn't escape my mouth. My brain shouted them, no, stop, but I couldn't find my voice to say them. We both lay there, unmoving, poised, on the knife edge. Then Sara grabbed me under my arms and pushed into me, her cock invading me. I gasped, my body convulsed and for several long seconds, she didn't move, hovering over me, her cock filling me. I could feel her inside me, her hips pressed up against my ass.

  Sara pulled back slowly and my body, shocking me, protested, as my hips pushed upwards, trying to keep her inside me, not willing to let her cock out of me. I felt her body press back down onto me, her cock pushing back inside me, and my resistance snapped. The waves of pleasure crashed over me, breaking me.

  "Oh, Sara," I moaned, pressing up to meet her thrust, then back down as she pulled out, helping her fuck my ass, becoming her woman, needing to feel her cock inside me, needing the rhythm of the motion, needing her to fuck me, wanting her to rape me.

  She moved her face near mine, finding my lips as she pushed in, her deep kiss matching her thrust, leaving as she pulled out, kissing me again as she pushed back in. Her thrusts became more even now as she found a tempo, became comfortable with the cock she had wrapped around her waist.

  Finally, when I was on the verge of pain, of being unable to take it anymore, of begging her to stop, she reached under my waist, her hand finding my own cock, pumping it as she thrust, matching stroke for thrust. It only took her a dozen of these before I cried out in pleasure, exploding, an orgasm like I'd never felt before. Like a man, as I let go, Sara did what I'd done so many time before, and pushed her cock one last time, deeper into me than it had been yet, holding it there, filling me as I moaned, shuddered, almost cried.

  When it was over, Sara slowly withdrew from me, wrapped her arms around me, our legs entwined, man and woman, roles and bodies, husband and wife, lover and lover, mixed together, one never ending, one never beginning.

  Sara buried her face in my hair, telling me how much she loved me. Finally I looked at her, tears in my eyes. "I love you too, Sara." Saying the words as if I'd never spoken them before, feeling them deeper than I'd ever felt in my life.

  Coming out of the shower on Tuesday morning, I found Sara holding a garter belt in her hand. When I walked into the bedroom, her eyes shot up to mine, held the garter belt out, "What is this," she demanded.

  "Um...it's a garter belt," I answered, her tone throwing me.

  "Where did this come from? Whose is this?" Her tone sounded like a wife who found a strange pair of panties in her husband's coat pocket, it was so accusing.

  "That's...that's mine, Sara," I said, confused.

  "Yours? Where...it's not one of mine, I didn't buy this...where did you get this?"

  I looked down, embarrassed. "I bought it....I...um...bought it from a place on line, 'Secrets in Lace'."

  "You bought it?"

  "Yes, I...I bought that...and a few other things...I thought....," Her eyes bore into me. "I'm sorry Sara, I just thought that..."

  "What else did you buy," she cut me off.

  "Well, um...just some stuff, some bras, panties, garter belts, some stockings. I'm sorry, Sara, I just...."

  "Oh, Julie!" Her face changed. "You really bought some lingerie? Show me, get it, I want to see it all."

  I walked to my closet, took out the box from Secrets in Lace, and dumped the contents onto the bed. I had gotten four garter belt, bra and panty sets, two in white, two in black, several pairs of old fashioned nylon stockings, some camisoles, and on open bottom girdle.

  "Oh, fuck, Julie, this stuff is amazing. Look at these garter belts, all with six straps, metal garters. My, my, real nylon stockings. Julie, I didn't realize you had such an interest in lingerie like this, old fashioned lingerie. A girdle. I don't think I've seen a girdle like this since...well, my mom had them."

  Fuck. She made the mental connection so fast! Ever since she'd spanked me I'd been possessed by the thought of my mother-in-law bending over my father-in-law's lap. I'd pictured her in lingerie like this and found some web sites devoted to spanking, and viewed images of old fashioned spankings, the classic lingerie.

  "Sara, I just thought that...."

  "Oh my god, Julie, I love you so much!" She jumped over to me, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me, her body heat pushing onto me. My towel fell, and my crotch pressed against the satin of her teddy. Her mouth was all over mine as she pushed me back onto the bed, sucking my lips, my tongue, the very breath from me.

  "Sara...oh I..."

  "Julie, you bought lingerie. Do you know how happy that makes me," she said, her tongue licking my neck, sucking on me. I felt the warmth of her pussy through her teddy, on my crotch, rubbing me. Her kisses were full of hunger, her body rubbing mine woman to woman.

  "And the things you got, the old fashioned lingerie," she moaned. She did make the connection. I'd become the wife, the 50's wife, submitting to her husband. Only her husband was really my wife. But it did not matter, it was the symbolism. The very thing she had sworn never to do, to be like her mother, submitting to a man, I was doing with her. I was submitting to her as a 50's housewife.

  "Sara," I moaned, letting her completely take over.
I wanted to unsnap her teddy, or at least move it, enter her, but she would not let my hands go that far down her body. She continued to hump, crotch to crotch, woman to...to woman.

  "I know you want all this, Julie," she kissed. "And you make me so happy," she said, crotch to crotch, starting to shake, an orgasm building up in her, washing over her. "You are such a good wife," she said, her eyes rolling in her head, her body grinding on mine.

  "Yes, Sara, yes," I responded, humping her, beginning my own push over the edge. She had me on my back now, holding my arms over my head, pinning them, breasts on my mouth, as I kissed them through the teddy. Her mound ground onto me, felt me, warm on warm, and I shook, my cock squirted, causing me to jerk as the cum slopped over the crotch of her teddy, spread all over me by her movements.

  My own orgasm coupled with hers, she shuddered, her mouth all over me, pressing into and onto me as spasms of orgasm washed all over her, until she finally collapsed onto of me, kissing my neck.

  Fuck.

  Oh, fuck.

  "Sara," I nudged her cheek with a kiss, "what...what was that all about," I smiled.

  She purred, "because I love you, Julie, because you make me so happy, because you...made me so happy."

  "But, what...what did I do?" Hell, I certainly wanted to repeat whatever I'd done, she was so responsive.

  "The lingerie, sweetie."

  "But, what about it?"

  "Oh, Julie...don't you see. You bought all that...on your own, without me asking," she nuzzled my cheek.

  "So?"

  "Why did you buy it?"

  "Well, I suppose because you want me to wear it."

  "Um, no, John, that's not it. You have stuff I bought you to wear."

  "I don't know...I suppose because I want to, I just liked it," I said, embarrassed.

  "Because you wanted it? Not because I wanted it, right? Because you wanted it, love?"

  "I...I guess."

  A deep kiss on my lips. "See, that's what makes me so happy, lover. You wanted it. You don't know how much all this scares me. I'm so afraid I'll push you too far, baby, or that you are only doing this for me, not for you. It has to be mutual, as I've said before, and by buying that stuff, you are showing me that all this is what you want too."

  "But, it's just lingerie, Sara."

  "No, lover, it's so much more than that. It's your participation, willing participation. You want it too, Julie, that's why you bought this lingerie. And there is more. It's what you bought, the vintage style lingerie. It looks like something my mother wore. You know that, don't you? You knew that when you bought it?"

  "Yes," I whispered.

  "My mother wore things like that when she submitted to my father. You knew that when you bought it. And it's the symbolism, love. You want to be the good wife submitting to her husband." She smiled, a little snicker. "Is that what you thought of? My mother getting her spanking from my father? Is that what you want to be? The wife submitting?"

  I knew exactly what she was talking about because it was true. I was starting to see myself in that role, the good "wife", the submissive "wife". I shook my head, yes, and she smiled, kissing me.

  "Baby, we need to clean up," she laughed. "Do you have anything going on at work this morning? Can you go somewhere with me this morning?"

  "Um, where?"

  "It's just...well...no...nothing kinky, just an appointment I have?"

  Her tone suggested that I'd better not argue. I could go to work late today, and told her so.

  "Good. Get dressed, we can drive separate, you can just go to work from there. Wearing your new stuff." She smiled, eager as a child on the first day of summer.

  I nodded that I would, and picked out a white satin garter and a matching camisole and tap panty set, all trimmed with a touch of lace. I picked up a package of coffee colored stockings, while Sara watched me get dressed.

  "Julie, you are amazing. Too bad you still won't wear a bra to work," she smiled, hoping to see the matching bra.

  "I...I have a bra that matches this, but Sara, I can't wear that."

  "Well, it's not like you really need a bra, yet," she grinned. Yet. Ouch.

  I dressed in the lingerie, and it was a good thing I had just cum, else there would have been a huge bulge in my panties. The true nylons, the no-stretch fashion of the day, felt so taut held up by the straps of the garters. The panties held me tight, and I briefly pined for the bra, settling for the camisole.

  I looked at Sara before I finished getting dressed, when I was about to go get my suit. She had dressed faster than I had in a black pant suit, as a power woman, a power business woman. "What?" I asked, her gaze catching mine, wondering what I saw in her eyes.

  "Go get the hair brush," she said, steel in her voice.

  "Sara, what did I do? Why? I don't understand?"

  She glared hard at me, suddenly scaring me. Her eyes were hard, fixed on my lingerie. I think I put it together. It was the lingerie. She must have flashed back to childhood, her mother and father, her father taking her mother over her knees for a spanking. "Please, Sara."

  She just smiled, sitting down onto the straight backed chair she used the first time she spanked me. "How much did the lingerie cost, Julie," she asked me.

  "What? Um, I don't know, a couple of hundred dollars, I guess."

  "And, did you ask? Did you have permission to spend money on lingerie?"

  "No, but Sara, ask? Why..." It hit me, we were suddenly living a scene from her childhood, a fantasy she must have carried for years and years.

  "Well I'm afraid that you are going to have to be punished then, Julie," she said in a stern voice.

  I knew better than to argue. Like it would have done any good at this point. Not with that fire in her eyes. I silently walked over to the dresser and picked up the brush, which actually felt warm to my touch. That instrument of pain, already telling me that something else was going to be warmed very shortly.

  I walked to Sara, held the brush out to her. "Last time you got twenty-five for being selfish. Today you will get ten, an appropriate number I think, for spending money without asking me."

  She pulled her pants tight over her legs. "And don't you squirm this time, I don't want any mess on my pants like you did to my nylons when I was wearing a skirt before."

  As I lay across her lap, I thought back to the scene I pictured in my mind, of her mother submitting to her father. It was full circle in her family, I thought, the wife became the husband, the husband the wife.

  I counted as the ten blows connected with my ass, the pain, without the pleasure, stinging more than before. I was the wife now, submitting, taking what her spouse gave her. I did not even get hard this time. It was pure submission, no eroticism. It was me giving myself to Sara. In some perverse way I was her mother, she was her father, and apparently the root of our eroticism really did take hold in childhood.

  After the tenth blow, she pushed me kneeling onto the floor and held the brush in front of me. I reached up to take it, but she shook her head. "Kiss it," she said, holding it closer to me. Oh, how far we had come. So far, that as I bent down to kiss the object of my pain, my punishment, I didn't have a second thought.

  I started to get up, but she put her hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down. "Aren't you forgetting something Kate," she said, staring at me. Kate. Kate? Kate was her mother's name. This was getting too weird for me, much too weird. But, I thought, who the hell was I to wonder if someone's fantasies were bizarre. No, I had nothing to say to that.

  "What...what are you talking about?"

  "Unbutton my pants, Julie," she ordered.

  I suddenly remembered what she had told me before, what her mother did after her spanking. This was sick. Totally sick. But, again, I was just as sick. I could do this. Hell, I wanted to do this.

  I slowly reached up to Sara's crotch, knowing what I would find before my fingers got there. Touching the zipper to her trousers, I knew I was right. A hardness, a firmness. My fingers shook as I unzi
pped her, reached in, felt it, felt her. The dildo. She was wearing the dildo. She expected me to...I couldn't believe I was even thinking this...she expected me to give her a blow job after the spanking.

  In a way, there was nothing more I wanted, than to submit to her, to show her, after the spanking, my ass still on fire, that I wanted this, to submit in this way, to suck...suck her cock.

  I opened my mouth, taking it in, and realized that there was nothing more submissive than this, than being punished, kneeling before a clothed person, and sucking cock. It was completely fucked up, a total exchange of power, a surrender, sexual and otherwise. Sara grabbed the sides of my head, roughly guiding the cock into my mouth, grunting, pumping, fucking my mouth.

  "Yea, yea, that's it, suck it, come on, Julie, suck it," she hissed. Her voice scared me, and thrilled me. I was her bitch, accepting her control. I guess some women are right, that kneeling, sucking cock, could be an act of dominance. It was to me, and it must have been to Sara.

  I felt the cock filling my mouth, my jaws stretched, accepting it, submitting to it, to Sara, to the cock. I felt my stockings, tugging on my garters, the satin of my camisole on my nipples.

  Sara reached into her trousers, squeezed the base of base of the cock and suddenly, without warning, I felt it squirting. My eyes bulged, and I tried to lift my head, but Sara held it steady. "Swallow it, Julie," she growled, "don't you dare move off."