Husband to Cuckold… & Worse

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Robert

They had arrived back in the affluent suburbs of London not speaking to each other. In fact, she had switched off from him immediately after informing him the bedroom they had shared together would be locked and she expected him to spend the night on his own.

She had been as good as her word and, after he had parked the car in the garage, she had entered the house and made her way straight upstairs without so much as a backward glance at her husband as he, unable to help himself in spite of what had happened and been said on the trip home, gazed at her lovely legs as they peaked out of the slit in her black dress and studied the soft curves of her full breasts as she turned and then disappeared at the head of the stairs.

After everything she had said to him, he still lusted after her and the “tiny” c**k she had referred to was at full-mast with an inexplicable need for the younger wife he had just allowed to belittle him.

He was, as he had been in the car after she had refused to say another word to him and he had likewise fallen silent, in a condition of some unreality, numbed by what his wife had told him she wanted and even now, after she had locked him out of their own bedroom, still trying to convince himself it was some elaborate practical joke on her part or the effect of the drinks she had consumed that evening.

Free of his driving responsibilities and able to indulge in a few, and very necessary drinks of his own, Robert poured himself a generous Jim Beam and took himself off to the study where he liked to do most of his thinking of a private kind — computer on or off.

The computer!

Her words came back to him:

“I’ve emailed some stuff to your computer from my laptop.”

This evidence of pre-planning on Gilly’s part, at least reassured him on the subject of his office-manager not being the one behind his wife’s behaviour.

He thought.

He was, however, reassured in no other way.

Robert stared at the technology in question with some trepidation, then, taking his courage in his hands and placing his drink on a coaster at its side, he booted up.

It was not and had never been his way to let a problem fester longer than was absolutely necessary and - though a hopeful part of him lent assurance his wife’s behaviour, she had never had much of a head for drink, after all, was alcohol related — this was certainly one he wanted to confront and overcome as soon as possible.

The email from her he opened began encouragingly:

“My beloved Robert…”

It was, however, as good as it was likely to get and went immediately downhill:

“After what you read here — and I advise you to read everything I’ve sent you — you might think our marriage is at an end.

This is definitely not true.

What you will read below will make you think I no longer love you.

This also is definitely not true; though it would not be wrong to say I love you now in a far different way than previously and in a way the world as a whole might see as more than a little, well, odd.

Our marriage will go on, I am convinced. Partly because you desire me more than I desire you and partly because, well, basically, you’re pretty much screwed if you decide to leave. Don’t get me wrong on this though, as I’m quite pleased with the way you’ve run my company up to now with the help of young Nirupa, but I’ve decided if we’re to stay with each other — and I’m sure that’s what we both want — then a radical change is required in both our living arrangements and the way we react to each other from now on.”

At this last, he broke off and took a fortifying slug of the Jim beam. Nirupa? Help him? Where the hell had she got that? All the major decisions had been made by him. Sure, Nirupa had been allowed an input, he had even gone along with a couple of her ideas, but that was a long way from helping him in the way Gilly seemed to be insinuating. And what was all that about…

“My company?”

He knew also, given what he had read so far and despite her protestations of loving him still, that something fundamental was about to change with their relationship.

Taking another swallow of the bourbon, he returned to her missive with a feeling of growing dread:

“For this and other reasons, one being that I still have feelings for you, our marriage will go on. You will, though, have to get used to it doing so in a totally different way to before. For too long now I’ve let you call the shots in this relationship. I’m pretty sure we could have avoided all the heartache of your bankruptcy if I’d taken a firmer hand — and especially if I’d had someone like young Nirupa around to advise me the way she’s advised you.”

Nirupa.

Again.

Suspicion of the young Indian girl Gilly had spent so much of the night deep in conversation with fermented in his thoughts.

“But that’s the past and it’s time to plan what I want for our future. You’ve had your turn in the driving seat and I’ve been less than impressed. So now I’ll be the one occupying it.

And for good.

You’re probably wondering right now how I can be so confident about all this. Right? But that’s only because you’re probably too shocked and angry at the moment to have thought it through properly yet.

Think about it, Robert. Since the bankruptcy, you have no credit or debit cards and no chance of getting any. In fact, the only account you have is basic banking with a card and number that allows you to tap money from a hole-in-the-wall — assuming you have any money to tap out and I know you don’t have much.”

His stomach lurched as nausea joined shock and anger at the events unfolding before him — nausea made all the more potent for the knowledge she was right.

It was not about to be eased by the further accuracy with which he was about to be supplied now:

“Everything is in my name, Robert. Pretty galling for you, I’m guessing, being that you were the one — admittedly under advice from your accountant — who insisted on it. But then you never did have much faith in either my opinions or my head for business.

That, my love, is about to change.

Knowing you as I do, I can predict your every move after you’ve read this and have no doubt you’ll be hammering on what used to be our bedroom door and is now mine the moment you finish reading. You should also know that this has been some time in the planning and I would not be going ahead now if I wasn’t utterly convinced you’ll see sense and knuckle under to your new life.”

“New life?” he muttered to himself, unreality holding him deep in its grip.

“I have no intention of losing you, you see? We have history and I still have feelings for you. Just because you’re not the man I thought you were it doesn’t mean you can’t be the man I want you to be for me. You just have to get used to the idea of being the type of man I want if you intend for me to keep you in my life.

Of course, I fully expect you to pack a bag and leave after you’ve finished this and you should know that, if you do, I won’t speak to you until I’m ready. I also expect you to be back with your tail between your legs very soon.

It’s pointless to say any more now, so have a read of what I’m going to expect from you from now on and we’ll speak, as I say, when I’m ready.

As of this moment I consider us to be in a female-led relationship.

And led by me in total.

This WILL happen because I am determined to accept nothing less.

What this means, in effect, is that, you being older than me or not, all decisions are mine to make and from now on I will be taking a totally hands-on approach to your life.

You will also — if things went to plan tonight then I will have touched upon this during the car ride home — be my cuckold and, as you are probably unaware of what this involves, I have attached material that will put you in the picture more completely.

Don’t be too alarmed though, darling. Lots of what you read will seem horrifying, but remember I probably wouldn’t go as far as some of the wives in the stories.

Probably.

Your loving wife

Gilly.”

Robert Upson felt numb. Had she gone insane or was he having a particularly disturbing dream? Suddenly she had turned into some kind of control freak who wanted to run both him and their marriage.

The bite of the Jim Beam hitting the back of his throat though, was all the contradiction he needed to know this was not a dream.

But where the f**k had it all come from?

Where he had been concerned by what he had thought was drunken behaviour during the drive home, alarm-bells were now beginning to ring as he realised planning had gone into what he was experiencing. Alarm-bells ringing all the more loudly for his being in such a fragile position after his bankruptcy. Now, with Gilly as sole signatory to everything, he was, as she inferred, totally vulnerable in an economic sense.

She was right:

Financially, at least, he was “screwed”.

And, incredibly, Gilly intended to use the power he had given her to further some... perverted… desires he had hadn’t suspected her, to this point, of either having or being capable of having.

How, though, had she hit upon such a course of action and, more importantly, what made her so sure he would accept it?

The dispirited smile his unseeing eyes delivered to the computer screen was prompted by the fact that he had already touched upon a part of the answer to his own question.

She had everything and he had nothing.

He had polished off another glass of bourbon and was halfway through another when he finally plucked up the courage to open the first of the attachments she had sent him.

It was titled:

“From Male to Female Led — Let us Show You How to Take Control”

This alone had him reaching yet again for his glass.

Sensing, as he did, that worse was to come.

“Taking control of your home and the husband who, up to now, you have allowed to rule it, will be the most rewarding and exciting thing you ever do.

A successfully demoted husband will be completely obedient and satisfy all your needs, whether they be of a business, domestic or s****l nature. He, as your beta-partner, will manage all the mundane chores of your life and learn not to question your wishes.

What’s more, and this is the most satisfying part, the man who at one time ruled your world and is now ruled by you will eventually come to see you not just as his superior partner but as his owner.”

“The f**k he will,” Robert raged aloud to the unhearing text as it continued on, as if in answer to his scepticism:

“Sound too good to be true? Wishful thinking? Impossible to imagine the man who once commanded your loyalty and, maybe, obedience, ever bending his neck enough to accept a reduced situation that puts you in total charge, both privately and publicly?

Well, ask yourself again what it was that brought you here in the first place. Whether you found us through Google, stumbled upon us by accident, or were directed here by a friend or close colleague, there was, at the back of your mind at least, a desire to experience the joys of a female-led marriage and a suspicion that your husband was weak enough for you to be able to force him to accept it.

Trust your womanly instincts in this as, in our experience, they have — except under the rarest of circumstances - yet to be found wanting. We understand that you probably find all the above hard to believe and with some men more alpha in aspect such an end result would be impossible. But the fact you are reading this at all is evidence the male in your life is not alpha and you sense relegating him to a position of subservience and dependence is not only desirable but possible.

Once again: be assured your senses are right and trust us: the first time you tell him to kneel between your legs and use his tongue until you’re satisfied and ready for him to stop will be the moment any doubts — if you still have any having reached such a point — will vanish.

Be warned though, getting your husband to accept you are the dominant partner and he no longer has a say in any part of your life while you have the final say in ALL aspects of his can be challenging and is by no means sure of success.

However, if you have read the beta-list, and ticked enough boxes to indicate your husband falls into the category, our experience is that you will only meet initial resistance before he accepts his rightful place at his knees.”

As quizzical as he was appalled, Robert switched windows to Gilly’s original email itself and scanned the attachment.

No beta list.

Not that he needed to see one, obviously.

Gilly had set this… ridiculous… process in motion so she had obviously read the list and ticked enough boxes to convince herself he was…

Beta!

His rage — and he’d been no p***y in the past when it came to conflict of a physical kind — was rising as quickly as the bourbon bottle was emptying.

And was made worse by the awareness he did not, for once, know how to either handle the situation confronting him or vent the anger caused by it.

Left with no other option, he read on:

“Of course, if you ticked the box indicating your husband’s financial dependence on you of some kind the chances of success rise to levels only very rarely — if EVER - resulting in failure, but, so long as the boxes ticked are numerous enough, it is our experience that success will be yours anyway.

The less plentiful the ticks the more likely it is that the end result just might take that little longer to achieve.

You must trust us in this though:

It WILL be achieved and, in the end, it WILL be worth it.

You are about to embark on the wonderful journey of female domination over the man you have chosen to rule and, after interacting with us more fully — if, of course, you choose such a course after reading this - it will soon become clear to you that this rewarding and thrilling life-path is not as difficult to implement and maintain as it seems and that accomplishing the feat is more possible than you thought.

The most common reason a women doesn’t dominate her husband is that she thinks he’ll never go for it - that he’s not the type.

Wrong!

If you’ve ticked enough boxes on the list to satisfy yourself on his true status then be assured:

He WILL.

Many female-led regimes begin as ordinary relationships and simply evolve as the wife’s natural authority ensures they both fall into their rightful roles.

This we call: ‘Unacknowledged domination’.

Your husband may even be as manly as men come, physically brave and seemingly assertive. But you must trust us again when we say that, if the necessary boxes have been ticked, he will eventually bend his will to that of yours — even if, up to now, he has been allowed to take an undeserved place at the head-of-the-household.

Take heart in the fact that underneath all his male posturing and pride, there is an obedient lesser half just waiting for you to take control of him and give his life a new meaning and direction — humble as that meaning and direction may be.

If you wish to go further with this lifestyle and would like to know what is required to train your husband into the kind of obedient life-partner you have always desired, simply write with a postage pre-paid envelope to the address below and we will send you the details by return.

Our service is entirely free and our reward is your satisfaction.”

The attachment ended there and for long moments Robert could only stare at the screen blankly.

In the space of a little under two hours, he had gone from having a wonderful marriage in which he made all the important decisions, to being told his wife wanted to take control.

Worse, he had been told that his equipment was not up to the job and that she was not sexually satisfied by him — not only that, but she had told him she knew how badly he desired her still — and had been, he acknowledged with some bitterness given what he’d just read, quite right.

His thoughts scanned back over the past couple of months and how she had limited s*x between them with any number of excuses in respect of her health he now knew to have been just that; even if she had been to see their doctor.

So she told him.

Had she been “training” him already?

Given the almost puppy-dog way he had acted around her to get her to consent to some action, he could only note with sourness the success of her approach.

Success that was total, if the increased need he had felt for was a guide.

And even then, when she had finally consented, she had just lay beneath him passively as he got it out of his system and assured himself her lack of interest was the result of her not feeling too well lately.

The age-old excuse.

He couldn’t work it out; s*x had been, was, good between them.

Wasn’t it?

She surely couldn’t have been acting all these years.

Could she?

Okay, fair enough, she had tried to get him to eat her out on numerous occasions in the early days and been a bit put out when he told her it was not something he did — it being for reasons he had never seen fit to thoroughly evaluate, an act he had always found… unmanly.

And the taste!

It had not stopped him accepting oral from her plump and inviting lips and the warm mouth at the back of them, however, and it struck him that this might be the root of her sudden… discontent.

But to go this far?

Turning his attention back to the screen, he saw there were four attachments in all.

The second was the welcome page of a grouping calling themselves the “Cybelians”.

Thirty seconds scanning of the material found there — mostly pictures of naked men with clothed and past their sell-by-date women in the background — was enough to have him switching off.

The next two attachments were fiction Gilly had taken from the web and dealt with women in relationships of exactly the kind she had described to him on the journey home in the car — at least until she had stopped speaking to him entirely.

One of the stories was titled: “Circle of Cuckolds” and to say its content was offensive to him, the storyline involving a group of affluent and successful white husbands allowing their wives to visit a club — with them in tow — and be f****d by black men as they waited on like flunkeys, went nowhere near to describing the outrage he felt towards Gilly for having the nerve to…

And there was something else even more disconcerting to him.

So disconcerting, in fact, he exited the story, ending not reached, in a condition of rage that was, this time, directed at himself.

Ignoring the disturbing reaction he had neither wanted nor expected - and after another fortifying Jim Beam - he was ready to tackle the final attachment.

With the same results and the same ensuing sense of outrage at himself.

As he leaned back in his chair, unseeing eyes fixed on the Sydney Opera House he had hit upon as his Google welcome-screen, it struck him that no matter what happened from here on in his life had changed.

Even if Gilly came back to him now and told him she hadn’t been serious, that it really was a light-hearted attempt on her part to spice things up between them — and he considered this most unlikely — he would still be in possession of the uncomfortable knowledge that she had considered such a possibility so seriously she had gone to the lengths of reading the filth she had then gone on to send him.

And considered it so seriously she had ticked off some “beta-list” on some offensive and fanciful website designed to help wives place their husband’s in relationships of such a kind.

For the first time it struck him that his erotic, if none too bright, wife might not be the open book to him he had always believed her to be.

Then again, though, if she thought for a second he would actually put up with any of the s**t the husbands in her stories had been described putting up with, perhaps his original assessment of her intellectual shortcomings had been correct.

Perhaps.