The Cuckold & The Cuckoldress

Chapter One

The Cuckold

Chapter One

“You understand that though my business card reads ‘s*x Counselor’, most would suggest I am a dominatrix... a professional dominatrix. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes... ah... ma’am.”

The tall, broad shouldered woman of color smiles. It’s a warm smile, a handsome face. Matronly some would call it. A child would sense comfort and security in the woman’s presence. And I would as well... if not humbly kneeling before her with my hands on top of my head. Instead I find myself somewhat quaking.

The exchange of power is palpable, particularly when one glances to her right side where behind stands her assistant, introduced to me as Johnny. The moniker is the only masculine attribute, for this Johnny has well-groomed shoulder length hair, wears make up and has no doubt spent time polishing his nails... fingers and toes. And though out of courtesy one is hesitant to stare, if this Johnny has testicles, such are not easily discerned.

Yes, obediently waiting in complete nakedness, Johnny’s only covering, if it can be so termed, is a seamless steel neck collar. How it was initially adorned brings question. For it will surely not slip off.

“In reading your wife’s letter there is much to do, Mr. Peters. You’ve agreed to a cuckold relationship, but it seems you’re not ready.”

The imposing form of Marsha Martin stands over me, waving my wife’s missive. I have not read it, delivered by me sealed, only to be opened by the woman in charge. But I have a good inkling as to the contents. It lists my shortcomings, explaining that after agreeing to let my wife date other men, I find reservation concerning details not discussed before entering the arrangement.

Shame on me.

“So let’s go through the protocol. Sunday is my day off. No clients. And with my husband playing golf, I have much time to myself. So with your wife being an old friend, I’ll counsel you, though most of your time will be with Johnny.”

What? Time spent with a naked hermaphrodite? Marsha Martin notes my look of shocked dismay.

“He’s very good, very considerate. He’s trained... tending to... well... women of assertiveness. He’ll teach you to perform... to provide the required attention.”

Marsha Martin steps to the side, an open hand gesturing that I should give her major domo full visual assessment... and I do.

Effeminate, golden blonde locks, appearing almost prepubescent, Johnny smiles coquettishly in being the center of focus. I cannot help utilizing the opportunity to outright gawk at his pubes. There dangles the p***s of a child... and definitely no testicles.

“Johnny does not speak, Mr. Peters... think it best I call you Andy. He was given to complain a bit, early in our relationship, particularly when I tucked away his balls. So I had him silenced... vocal cords sutured. But you’ll find he communicates well with his hands... and other body parts.”

The explanation comes with a soft laugh. Such cruelty, yet so mirthfully expounded.

“What... ah... what hap...”

“What happened to his little nuts?” her firm even voice interrupting my stammering. “Still there. I just pushed them back into the inguinal canals. Can’t look girlish with male tidbits flopping about. A little painful at first, the tight confines bring a constant ache. But in having my Johnny on Androcur, the nuggets slowly shrink, the aching ceases and eventually their nice warm and snug hiding spot brings comfort. No more embarrassing male bits.”

With that, my comparatively mammoth tutor steps to her slight charge, bends and lowers a hand. Johnny parts his legs in humble welcome. Then the palm glides beneath the tiny p***s, fingers working to unfurl the remnants of maleness... the empty scrotal sac. She gently tugs, revealing a puff of thin pink skin. Johnny smiles, the controlling demeaning handling indeed welcomed. “Curious how this remains a bit of an erogenous zone, don’t you think Andy?”

Strangely, I find myself nodding in agreement, though not having a clue.

“Now why not join Johnny and take off your clothes. I like the idea of having two naked nymphs puttering around the house... lots of pink and white skin for me. And boys of your ilk so much enjoy showing off...”