Reduced To This

REDUCED TO THIS By Throne I've been married for one year to Antonia. For the first month we had sex. Then, one evening, she told me in no uncertain terms that my bedroom privileges had been revoked. My wife made it clear that with my small dick and inability to last more than a minute or so without cumming, I was useless for screwing. She declared that I would give her oral sex on demand from then on. I had never gone down on her -- or any female -- because I found the idea of putting my mouth on a woman's gash disgusting. Over my objections she grabbed me by the ear, twisted viciously, and dragged me off to bed. I had to lick and suck her unwashed genitals until she had a howling orgasm. It made me sick but she got off on it so much that I knew I was doomed. For half a year that sufficed. She made sure I didn't rebel by pushing me around, making me perform all the housework, especially the menial tasks like cleaning the bathroom, and controlling every cent I earned. If I so much as let my upset show in my expression it earned me a hard slap on the face. Antonia is bigger than me, heavier, and ruthless. I'll admit that I was still sexually attracted to her, despite all the abuse. After all, her bust and bottom are over sized, her wavy jet hair falls halfway down her back, and her broad, high-cheek boned face, full-lipped, dark eyes large and wide set, thrills me. Besides that, she got in the habit of dressing sexily, knowing that it deepened her power over me, and enjoying how frustrated I got from being aroused all the time. It didn't help me that, without a normal sex life, the best I could hope for was to sneak a masturbation session in the bathroom after every one of my chores was finally done. Then she made the announcement that changed my life again. Antonia had decided that she missed, as she put it, "having a long thick cock shoved up my twat". Hearing her put it so crudely distressed me, but she knew I was past being able to object to what she said or how she said it. Instead, I had to listen to her plans to go out with her girlfriend Roxy and pick up guys. She left me home, naked, with a long list of jobs to have done before she returned. Jealous, rattled, nervous and scared, I had no alternative but to concentrate on my work while the hours passed. She returned after midnight, just as I finished the last of my assigned tasks. My wife was slightly drunk, had bite marks on her neck, the trampy outfit she had worn -- a tight top that showed off her braless breasts and a brief skirt that exposed her full curvaceous legs -- was disheveled. When she opened her handbag and pulled out her sexy panties, then tugged up the front of her skirt to show off her bare pubes, I knew the worst had happened. "That's right, loser," she said proudly. "I got laid. It was fantastic and I'm going to do it every chance I get." When I was too shaken to say anything she went on, "And Roxy gave me one more idea for how to hurt your poor sensitive feelings and let you know exactly where your place is in this marriage. We're going into the bedroom right now and you're going to eat my pussy. Take a good look at it. See all that sticky sperm my new boyfriend left? He pumped me good and full. And you're going to lick it all up and swallow every bit." She laughed. "After that I don't think you'll ever have the guts to say one word about me going out." Knowing I was beaten, that I had been cuckolded, I gave in and did just what she wanted. Using my mouth on her before he been awful, but this was many times worse. By the time I was done, and had given her a climax, whatever hope I had held onto was gone. She talked about her date, Steve, and what a beast he was in bed. Then she made me kiss her legs, up and down, to further cement her control over me and to leave me with an aching hard-on. I tried to excuse myself to visit the bathroom. "Oh, no," she said decisively. "I know you wank off in there. No more pulling your little pud, pussyboy. From now on you can wait until I decide you're allowed to squirt your little squirt. I realized tonight that I get hot from being mean to you so, as crappy as I've made your life until now, it's going to get a LOT worse." She was good to her promise. Now, as our first wedding anniversary approaches, I want to tell you what a nightmare my life has become. For instance, here's what happened two nights ago. It was just after eight in the evening, Friday night. I had turned over my pay to Antonia and, in just a pair of tight jockey shorts, had cleaned the whole house. My work takes longer than it should because she goes out of her way to leave a mess for me. I had just finished the bathroom and washed my hands when the doorbell rang. I raced to answer it, peeked out through the front curtains and spotted Steve's flashy muscle car, and opened the door. My wife's lover is a towering hulk of a man, powerfully built, with tattoos on both arms. He wears his blond hair in a crew cut and favors sleeveless tees, tight jeans, and heavy work boots, which is what he had on the night. Steve leered at me threateningly. "How you doing, lick-up boy? Keeping my girlfriend good and happy?" "Y,,, yes, Sir," I mumbled, stuttering as I always do when he's around. "Did you have your mouth on her cunt yet today?" he said, taking pleasure in how his coarse tone, when speaking about my wife, upset me. "Yes, S... Sir. She, um, made me give it a big wet kiss good morning before I made her breakfast. And..." I couldn't keep a quaver of shame out of my voice. "She didn't let me brush my teeth before I left for the office." He laughed loudly. "That's a good one. The big deal Supervisor has to go to work with pussy breath." His brutish features lost their amused look. "Hey, shit-for-brains, get me a beer." "Of c... course," I told him as I scurried away. When I returned with the icy can he was standing in the livingroom talking to Antonia. My bride had on a belly shirt that left her midriff uncovered. I think that's a poor choice, because she's a bit overweight, but she doesn't care and he likes it. Besides, it shows off the tattoo she got, of a ring of barbed wire, around her naval. The skirt she wore barely went past the bottoms of her jutting buttocks. She insisted on wearing tiny panties, so anytime she bent, sat, or stood over me while I washed floors or scrubbed toilets, I got an eyeful of her private areas. As I mentioned, she loves to tease me with her body. I handed Steve his beer, he pulled the tab, and clapped the foaming opening to his lips, sucking down probably half the contents. The man has no decorum. He belched and then pulled Antonia close to give her a deep probing kiss. Instead of being repulsed she returned his crude affection, running her hand over his denimed thigh and then onto his bulging crotch. He shoved his fingers up under her abbreviated top to paw one large breast. I stood there in that underwear that made me look like an immature schoolboy, aware of how they made it plain that I have very little between my legs, and tried to hold onto my composure. Antonia hadn't allowed me to masturbate for nearly two weeks and, with her constantly teasing me, and her friend Roxy sometimes stopping by to help, I was uncomfortably in need of release. "Yo, Steve," she said when they finally stopped kissing and fondling each other. "You want Jerky to take off your boots?" "Yeah." He nodded. "It'll get us into bed that much quicker." He sat on the sofa. My wife pointed at his feet and I fell to my knees before the man who was enjoying my wife's sexual favors. She didn't just have sex with him, she performed like a trollop, urged him on with filthy language, and endlessly told him how much better he was than I could ever be. I carefully unknotted the lace's of Steve's dirty boots and loosened them. Then I lifted one heavy foot, with no help from him, and worked the boot off, setting it aside. The other followed. He sat there with his feet covered by thick socks saturated by sweat. "I had a new idea," Antonia announced gleefully. "How about we make him take your socks off with his mouth? I'm getting wet just thinking about it." "Hey, baby, anything that gets your pussy juiced up is fine by me." Looking down to where I cowered before him he barked, "You heard the lady, dickless. Take my filthy socks off with your mouth." To my wife he said, "I just remembered, I've had them on for two days. Smoked some grass and fell asleep in them last night." That got her so sexually hyped that she undid his belt and lowered his fly. Steve raised his hips so she could tug down his jeans and shorts to free his penis, which her fingers soon had caressed to full hardness. I'm about four and a half inches fully erect. Steve is at least nine. To my dismay he is not only twice as long as me but also more than doubly thick. The head of his organ swells hugely. Mine narrows to an unimpressive tip. While I took the toe of his sock between my lips, she shoved out her tongue and licked his shaft up and down, purring happily. I eased back my head, making little progress but tasting the foulness of his unclean, perspiration fouled foot covering. "That's good, Tia," he said, using the pet name I was forbidden to address her by. "Do it like a skanky street ho. Show me how much you love my meat." Hearing his crass exhortations, she fitted her lips over the bulging end of his bludgeon. Her eyes turned up to him lovingly as she lowered her head, taking inch after inch into her mouth and then her throat. I was still struggling with that first smelly sock when she swallowed his entire member, her hand massaging his heavy testicles. The only way for me to succeed was to take more of that stinking material into my mouth. It pressed against my tongue and nearly blocked the back of my throat. Steve told Antonia, "Work that thing good. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, baby. Move your head up and down like that bitch in that video we watched the other night." My wife dutifully raised and lowered her head, his organ vanishing into her over and over. I at last removed one sock and, still using only my mouth, laid it as neatly as I could over his shoes. He was stroking the back of her head while I started on the second sock. This one had a hole in the end that allowed me to get a stronger smell of the humid rankness from between his toes. At one point I had to bite the heel to tug it down. By the time I had bared both his feet, Steve and Antonia were more than ready for sex. They got up and he clamped his rough hand like a vise on the back of my slender neck. Effortlessly he yanked me to my feet and, with his free arm around my wife's waist, walked toward the bedroom. She kept one hand on his opened pants so they wouldn't fall. As soon as we arrived he flung me toward the corner, I lost my balance and landed in a sprawl. They tore away each other's clothes. My wife snapped at me to fetch them two beers. I re-enterd the bedroom to find her on her back, legs splayed lewdly, him kneeling between them, his unfailing erection leaking clear pre-cum. The sight of them about to fornicate never failed to rob me of the last of my composure. My eyes started to tear up and my lower lip to tremble. They accepted their beers. He took a long swallow. She propped herself up on one elbow to do the same. Then they set the cans aside. He put his hands on either side of her head and brought the tip of his penis close to her slightly parted labia. I swallowed with difficultly and sniffled. Silently I beseeched for them not to go further, though I knew that was a hopeless desire. Steve turned his head and, to me, he said, "Hey, boy, get that diaper off." I quickly shucked the jockey shorts and stood there, my unwanted erection on display. "Look at that, Tia. Your wimp loser husband has a stiffy again from watching us." He chuckled nastily. "Little-dick-boy," he addressed me. "I had a few beers and a few shots before I got here. I'm not seeing too straight. Why don't you give me a hand? Grab my dick and aim it right at your wife's sweet cunt. Go on, make yourself useful." "Ohhh, Steve," Antonia moaned. "That is such a cool idea." At me she hissed, "So go on, super stud. Get hold of his monster cock. You can feel how much bigger and harder it gets than that nothing you've got." My trembling hand went to Steve's thick pole and my fingers curved around it. The sensation was familiar yet strange. I was used to stroking my penis but what he had was so much larger. In fact, Antonia delighted in making me wank myself while she teased me, but not letting me finish. I pointed him toward her entrance, not that he needed any guidance, sober or drunk, he took her to bed so often. "You know," Steve told my wife, "his hand is smaller than yours -- softer, too." She laughed. Antonia always thought his rude comments were funny. I wanted to let go but was afraid I might anger one or both of them. Instead I held onto him like that until he had himself buried halfway inside my wife. She was grinding herself upward against his invading member when he finally permitted me to let go. Like someone releasing a dangerous snake I opened my hand and jerked it away. At once he sank himself the rest of the way into her. Antonia told him, "That feels soooo good, Steve. When I used to let my pathetic husband in, I couldn't even feel it. Not that it mattered, because he always popped off before he got through a dozen strokes." He pressed his lips against hers and kissed her passionately as he commenced pumping, his hips in constant motion, varying his speed and thrust slightly in response to her every reaction. I knew, from being made to watch them so often, that he could keep that up untiringly, prompting her to beg for more, to denounce me endlessly, and in the end to experience bed shaking orgasms. Her legs came up and wrapped around him, hugging his muscular body. He rewarded her with a dozen long, hard strokes. When she whimpered happily at the added stimulation, he slowed and shortened his movements. My wife rubbed the firm contours of his shoulders and whispered to him that she loved him and wanted him to nail her to the mattress. He chortled and went back to hammering her, driving that long rigid spike into her with a spirited trip hammer rhythm. Steve brought her to the brink several times, always backing off enough to keep her simmering without making her boil over. "Damn you." Her voice was thick with need. "Slam me. Ram that killer cock into me. I want it, baby. Please. Without you, I've got nothing, just my cunt licker husband. He has such a baby dick he's not allowed to put it into me. He'll never feel the inside of my pussy again. That's only for you and your bullcock. Come on, Steve. Fuck me until I scream." He grinned at that and sank his fingers into her asscheeks, banging his body against hers, his organ slick with her plentiful juices, until her voice rose in an animalistic cry. His strokes went from long and hard to short and even harder. It was an assault on her body but she loved it and her vocalizations became shrieks of joyous release as he forced her into a runaway orgasm. At the same time he let himself go and, with loud grunts, emptied his sperm into my bride's body. That was when I began to sob openly, tears running down my cheeks, my body racked by emotional shaking. They didn't stop until both of them were spent and then, gradually, unhurriedly, they separated and lay side by side. Her vagina was overfilled with his sperm. His cock, still seven inches long when flaccid, was draped over his solid thigh. Their breathing slowed to normal. At the same moment they reached for their cans of beer to take revivifying drinks. I was hugging myself, miserable and utterly demeaned from witnessing my wife being willingly taken by her stud lover. Steve finished his beer, crushed the can with one hand, and threw it at me. The aluminum container bounced off my forehead and landed on the carpet. I snatched it up before any liquid could drip from it. He told me to grab him another. Still naked, my weakling penis sagging by then, I left with my head hung. I came back to find them with the TV on, watching some mindless sports event, cheering at action I couldn't follow. "We don't need you right now," my wife told me. "Get your dog blanket from under the bed and take a nap on the floor. That way you'll be there if we want you later." I dragged out the soiled blanket. When they first decided to let me use it, they christened it by putting it on the bed to have sex on top of. There was still a dried cum stain right in the middle of it. The next time Antonia had wiped her leaking vagina on it, so there was a second mark. It smelled mildly of that, and from being left unwashed after I used it several nights. I wrapped it around me and managed to doze. Steve's heavy bare foot thumped against my side, his heel driving into my kidney. I yelped and got onto my knees, my penis embarrassingly small in its recumbent state. He ordered me, "Get onto the bed, stupid. Tia doesn't feel like getting up to wash her pussy. You get to do your favorite job again, pervert. Lic all that salty cream out of there like a good little husband does for his wife when she cheats on him." As I had been made to do so many times previously, I got into position, my bare bottom sticking up, and thoroughly cleaned her out with my mouth, swallowing every disgusting bit of what I lapped and sucked from her body. My stomach was turning over and over when they let me stop and get onto my knees by the bed. Antonia told Steve, "That was really a super fuck earlier, baby. Was it enough for you?" "I don't know," he said. "I'd tell you to give me a blowjob, but I don't feel like getting up to wash, either." "Aw, honey," she said lovingly. "I don't care. I love sucking off your cock, clean or dirty. I'm a whore for you, Steve." He sat up on the edge of the bed and scratched his hairy chest. She squirmed closer and reached around to take hold of his organ. Her persuasive hand teased it back into life. As it rose halfway she told him she would give him a BJ to make the lowest hooker blush. She offered to rim his ass, to shove her tongue in it while she manipulated his member. He smiled evilly down at me. "Well," he said lazily. "Maybe I'll just take a long slow handjob. Haven't had one of those in a long time, I've been so busy getting sucked by your busy mouth, and then stuffing your pussy full of my cock. But I don't want to shoot all over your pretty carpet." She thought only for a second. "No problem." At me she sneeringly said, "Open your cunt licking mouth, husband sweetest. I'm going to give Steve a professional quality handjob and make him spurt his load down your throat. I'm sure you'll get off on that, sicko." I gagged but, still on my knees and naked, shuffled forward until I was directly in front of where he sat, and submissively parted my lips wide, laid my tongue flat on the floor of my mouth, and waited. Antonia began rubbing his penis up and down until, before long, it had risen to its full glory. I was horrified as she targeted it on my mouth. Tears began to form in my eyes once more. They thought that was humorous. I tried to close my eyes but my wife ordered me not to. "Isn't it something?" she said. "You get to cum whenever you want to, Steve. I'll give you a handjob anytime you please. But my asshole of a husband isn't even allowed to jerk his OWN tiny dick without my say so." They both laughed. I began to weep openly. "And now he's going to take one of your heavy loads right in his mouth." For my benefit she added, "I've done that more times than I can count, so I know it's a lot of cum." Fixing her eyes on me, she concluded, "And you're not allowed to swallow until I tell you. I want you to hold all the nice warm cum he puts out on your tongue. It'll be the first time you tasted it fresh, instead of from my cunt." Antonia went on stroking him, telling him how good he felt in her hand, telling both of us how superior his penis was to mine. She put herself at an angle to him so she could run her tongue up and down the side of his thigh while she happily played with his impressive organ. Fresh pre-cum appeared on its tip. She got up onto her knees and, still pumping him with her fist, gave him a deep protracted kiss. His body tensed and she pulled her face away from his so they both could watch my extreme humiliation. I saw his rock hard erection twitch in her grip and then it erupted. My wife called out, "Feeding time!" as gouts of sperm were fired into my waiting mouth, coating my tongue and puddling under it. Remembering her command, I didn't swallow. Instead I held the stomach-turning mess where it was. Seeing that he was completely done, I closed my lips. A bit dribbled down from the side of my mouth. I was still crying. My nose ran. Worst of all, I had another undesired erection, which my wife noticed and made fun of. "Now," she said decisively. "Do you want to be allowed to cum yourself, or wait another two weeks? What's it going to be, wimp out? I let you jerk yourself off while you hold Steve's wonderful cum in your mouth, or you wait another half a month and maybe your tiny balls hurt like hell the whole time? Hmmmm? Wanna play with yourself until you squeeze something out of that joke of a dick? Do you?" I was desperate. I was confused. I nodded yes. With my wife's permission, my mouth full of her lover's cum, crying, my nose running, kneeling naked at Steve's feet, I was given permission to jerk off. She limited me to using only my thumb and forefinger, saying that was enough for such a miniature dick. And I had to put my other hand out to catch my sperm. It was totally demeaning but I didn't want to wait another two weeks, with Antonia teasing me and Roxy helping. Utterly humiliated, I continued to wank. "Look at the jerk-off. Look at my pathetic husband. His own wife won't let him have sex, he's too cowardly to make her, and he's scared out of his wits by her boyfriend, who has a cock twice as big as his and then some. Look at the crybaby with tears running down his frightened face. Look at the cum oozing out of the corner of his sissy mouth. What a loser. He's not even a man. He's just a sissy wimp crybaby." As she spoke that last insult my dick fired -- prematurely as always, despite my efforts to make it last -- three meager squirts into my open hand. The warm sperm pooled in my palm. My wife told me to swallow Steve's huge load. Then she made me lick my lips and thank him for it. I also had to thank him for taking care of her in bed and request him to continue doing it. Then she directed me to slurp up everything that was on my hand. I did. There wasn't much of it. "You know what?" Steve said. "That makes three times he ate cum tonight. I think that makes him an official sperm eater. You know, like a title or something." "Sounds right," agreed Antonia. "Mr. Sperm Eater, Jerk-Off, Cunt Licker, Ass Face." "Ass Face? What's that about?" Steve wanted to know. My wife shrugged. "It just sounded good." "Nah. We have to make it fit." He scowled at me. "Go ahead. Make it official. Get your face into your wife's super-hot ass." Antonia rolled over obligingly, got her knees under her, and wagged her bottom. I knelt behind her and brought down my face until it was even with the center of her rear end. Steve clapped his broad hand on the back of my head and shoved hard, burying my face between her buttocks, with my mouth against her anus. I smelled her earthy odor and, as he held me there and I struggled to breath, tasted it. He told me to stick my tongue up her ass and pretend it was my dick inside her. He grabbed my testicles and began to apply pressure. Instantly I shoved my tongue into my wife's ass. It was disgusting but I did it. I even worked it in and out while she pressed her bottom back against my face. Not until I had been there for a full five minutes did Steve take hold of my hair and wrench me backwards, letting me fall onto the floor. I sat there crying, unable to recover from the shock of everything they had done to me. She grew enraged. I'm not sure why. But she gave me several hard kicks in the side and demanded that I crawl to the corner and put my nose in the juncture of the two walls. I did that but it didn't placate her. "You just won't behave," she seethed. "Little candyass!" And with that she gave me a solid kick in the privates, not holding back. I howled but kept my nose in place. Antonia stopped scolding me. I waited nervously, hoping her rage had abated. I was in agony from that hard kick, weeping no longer from upset, but from extreme pain. I had nearly gotten my breathing under control when she unexpectedly landed a second blow of her foot in the same place. I lurched and my face banged the wall. I retched up bile, along with swallowed cum, and had to make myself swallow it down again, rather than risk her seeing it and being incited to more violence. I stayed where I was, groaning loudly, and she left me there. I stayed like that all night. She didn't even give me my soiled blanket. So that's where my life is now. I am a total sex slave to my wife and her virile lover. They revel in tormenting me, degrading me, and keeping me sexually frustrated. When I'm not suffering directly under them I'm usually cleaning the house or running errands, making sure there's lots to drink on hand and trying to figure out how to live on the scant allowance Antonia grants me. Work is my only refuge. Or, I should say, WAS. Today is Monday. This morning, I got to the office by public transportation. Steve is customizing his car's engine so my wife gave him mine for as long as he needs it. I don't think I'll get it back, even when he's done with it. Anyway, when I arrived at work my attractive young secretary Cammy came into my office and closed the door behind her. She said, "Your wife has been calling me and saying some very interesting things. Does she really do all that stuff to you? And you have to watch her boyfriend screw her? That is so pervy. I've always hated the way you stare at me when you think I'm not going to notice. From now on there are going to be some changes around here, Boss. Or should I say cunt licker?" Cammy locked the door. "You can drop your pants and give me a look at that mini-dick she told me about. Then you can squeeze under your desk and I'll sit in your chair. AFTER I slip off my panties and put them over your head, with the crotch on your nose. We'll start with twenty minutes of you tenderly kissing my snapper and telling it how hard you're going to try to be a good boy for me. After that, we'll talk about some other ideas I have for making your time here as much fun for you as your time at home." She giggled. "Drop 'em, pussyface." So you see, my life of being mistreated will now be 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Oh, and when Steve takes my wife out tonight, her friend Roxy is coming over to 'sit' me. Everytime I think matters can't get any worse, they always do. 11900 1.65/512345