The elegantly framed document of his happy servitude hung constantly above the bed, its sperm-splattered words always looking down upon every dirty moment of the helpless husband’s delighted suffering. Oh, the things he had done beneath the mocking gaze of that black-lettered crimson paper! Sometimes his face blazed as he thought of them. But he merely had to glance up again to find the thing that more than offset his shame, the unutterable contentment of the reminder of his true place in life—he was her cuckold, he was her plaything, he was her c*m-slave…and he adored every sweetly agonizing moment of it. The knowledge, therefore, always lurked there in the back of his mind: despite his embarrassment and his natural male distaste, the poor cuckolded boy might at any time be required to sw
