The Cuckold & The Cuckoldress

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I drive home deep in thought. The day was harrowing yet there is a strange sense of tranquility. I have not before bathed with a guy. Yet it was more like he bathed me, my homophobia making it difficult to return the soft caressing swabs of the chamois. Miss Marsha strongly suggested I will learn to overcome that... her words close to being a threat.

And to have a fully clothed woman so closely supervise! It... it... well... I cannot find the words to describe the combination of embarrassment, sensuousness... and thrill. Odd to use that word but yes, thrill.

In agreeing to this relationship, my wife free to date, I have received little attention from her... sexually. Thus the firm erection I displayed, despite the relaxing warm soapy water. Miss Marsha seemed to be pleased with it... and this brought me delight. Unwelcomed? I ask myself.

Why is it I enjoyed so performing for her?

After the bath, Johnny indeed shaved me and thereafter offered massage. For some reason I remained erect, the ordeal bringing continuing arousal. And more strangely, I became comfortable so displaying myself before the woman. And even Johnny’s presence... another male... brought a degree of quiescence as I convinced myself that, sans testicles, he was really not of the same gender.

The day ended being subjected to a tape measure, Johnny circling ankles, wrists, neck and more distressingly the base of my scrotal sac as Miss Marsha duly recorded.

‘I’ll have some things you’ll be wearing for me, Andy. It will help with your training.’

The visit ended on a more sobering note as Miss Marsha took me on a tour of what she described as her counseling room. It was a dungeon, and even though driving I again shudder in visually recalling all the equipment, implements and devices this ‘s*x counselor’ has at her disposal.

‘Fantasies, Andy. Some have such strong and misguided desires. And here such are addressed... restraining, poking, pushing, pulling, stretching, whipping, flogging, caning... limbs, hands, feet, appendages, every anatomical part. In here there is nothing that cannot be subjected to a woman’s whim... a woman’s control... assuming she has the resolve. And I do...’

A veiled threat I have no doubt. And the woman indeed has resolve, major domo Johnny’s gonads not ever again to be seen.

Pulling into the driveway, I note my wife’s car is gone and recall she has a date. Though it’s Sunday night, she explained at breakfast that her latest conquest is extremely good looking and well endowed. Therefore popular and therefore difficult to date on Friday and Saturday nights. So it’s Sunday night dinner, my credit card of course. And since the lad is a college student, prandial s*x will either be at a hot sheet motel... again my credit card... or on the couch in my den... our den.