Chapter 6

That alone should have been enough to make me stop what I was doing, but it didn't. I loved the taste, the texture, and the erotic sensation of having another man's cock in my mouth, and I didn't ever want to stop. However, when I heard another, entirely new voice, speaking, I froze in place, unable to do anything at all.

It was a woman's voice that said, "I told you so. And not only that, he likes to lick buttholes and then suck on them just as hard as he can. He's going to make a good body slave, isn't he?" I had heard that same voice thousands of times, and there was no doubt at all that it was my wife speaking as she watched me sucking my best friend's penis in front of four other men.

Just at the edge of my circle of vision, I saw movement, and turned my eyes in that direction. As I focused, I saw Sharon in the act of kneeling beside me, staring intently at my mouth and the part of Chad's cock that was still outside it. She gently placed her hand on the back of my head and urged it forward, saying in a very-ragged voice, "Go ahead, honey. I want to watch you sucking him off, and see what you do when he cums in your mouth. See if you recognize the taste."

Still staring fixedly at her lovely face, I resumed what I had been doing moments before, and was rewarded with the sensation of his piercing rubbing against the roof of my mouth as his hips began thrusting his penis deeper into it.

It may seem strange to say, but up until that very moment I hadn't even realized that my own organ was just as hard as my friend's. When that awareness swept over my brain, I was suddenly swept up in a feeling of intense lust, and I redoubled my efforts to give him the pleasure he craved.

He must have been just as hot as me, because in just seconds I heard him groan, and then his hips thrust forward one last time. I felt the old familiar sensation of a cock head swelling to its greatest extent, and then reveled in the spurt of semen that threatened to exceed the capacity of my mouth. I sucked and swallowed, then did it again and again, until I felt him relax. When he began to pull his penis out of my mouth, I tried to close my lips even tighter to capture it for all time, but couldn't. At last I felt the silver balls scrape against my teeth, and then all I could do was sit there in stupefied silence, waiting for whatever would come next.

Sharon was the first to break the silence, almost whispering as she asked, "Did that taste like something you've eaten before?"

I could only nod my head in dumb assent, unable to put in words what I'd known ever since the first drop of his pre-cum landed on my taste buds: yes, I did recognize the taste, and although it wasn't exactly the same as when I'd eaten it out of her pussy, it was so very close that I knew the source of what she'd been bringing to me. I knew in a flash of understanding that it was my best friend's cum that she had been bringing to me in her pussy ever since that first Wednesday night, and that what I had always thought was her pussy juice was actually another man's sperm.

She stood then, pulling me to my feet beside her. As I stared fixedly at her face, she said, "I think everybody should get undressed now so I can show him what comes next." Then, looking directly at me, she said sharply, "That means you, too, cucky! Get naked right now!"

My hands were trembling as they moved to my shirt and began to open the snaps. They seemed to have a life of their own as they pulled it off me and dropped it to the floor. Not stopping there, they then reached down to my shoes and untied the laces. They were soon off my feet, followed in short order by my socks. Then, again as if operating independently of my brain, they opened my trousers and peeled them down my legs. There may have been some hesitation at that point, mainly because it had been six months since my wife had allowed me to remove my undershorts, except when bathing or changing them. However, at her curt, "Do it," they were soon lying atop the pile of my clothes on the floor.

My drunkenness must have been wearing off a little bit by then, for my circle of vision had grown. I saw the other four men lining up in front of me, and as you undoubtedly know, the entire focus of my attention was those parts of their bodies right in the middle. I tried to understand what I was seeing, but their genitals were so strange that my brain refused to register what my eyes were telling it.

Ray, whose home it was, was standing on one end of the lineup, and I first concentrated on his crotch. I could see that his penis had been tattooed, like the one in the magazine, and I had the strange thought, "I wonder what it looks like when it's not hard?" Right then, he was just as erect as Chad had been when I sucked him, and the tattoo was beautiful.

Sharon led me to a position in front of him, then placed her hands on my shoulders, indicating she wanted me on my knees. Again, I mindlessly obeyed, and soon the vivid cock was standing right there in front of my face. She said, "Time for another taste test, honey."

All it took was a slight pressure on the back of my head to move it forward, and as my mouth once again opened, Ray's brightly-colored penis slid inside it. Out of the corner of one eye, I saw that Sharon was kneeling beside me, once again watching her husband suck off another man. She must have found that just as arousing as I did, because she constantly encouraged me to, "Take all of it, honey. Get everything in your mouth. Run your tongue over the head. Hurry, honey, make him cum in your mouth so you can taste it."

It was surely less than two minutes when, as Chad had done shortly before, Ray thrust forward one last time and then hissed, "Fuuucccckkk!" Again I felt that first intense splash of red-hot semen striking the back of my throat, and I was completely lost in an orgy of sucking and swallowing.

I tried to keep doing that, but when I felt Sharon's hand on my forehead, urging my head back, I released my wonderful prize, and just sat there waiting for whatever she would make me do next.

At her question, "Did that taste like anything you've eaten before," I could only nod in mute silence. She continued, "I figured it would, since he's been fucking me every Wednesday night for six months now. He's always said he likes sloppy seconds, and after Chad's done me first, Ray gets his turn." I heard the other men chuckling, but it was meaningless to me. I was far beyond mere humiliation by then, and being told that, not only had I been a cuckold for half a year, I had been a multiple cuckold, just seemed to make it all the more exciting.

Sharon rose to her feet, then used the toe of her shoe to urge me toward the next man in line, whose name was Jack.

His penis had no tattoo, but all along both sides of it were large bumps, at least 1/4" in diameter. The only thought I had was how that would feel in my mouth, and whether it would be as good as Chad's piercing. My wife must have had a similar thought, for she said, "Here's another cock for you to suck, honey. Those bumps are made by steel ball bearings just under the skin. Believe me, when he fucks me they feel like a million dollars. See what you think." Again she pushed my head toward the stiff, throbbing penis right in front of my face, and again I opened my mouth and took it inside me.

The sensation produced by the bumps as they rubbed against my lips was truly erotic, and it was easy to understand why my wife was so enthusiastic about their effect when Jack's cock was inside her pussy. I tried to make my tongue concentrate on the head, but it seemed to have a mind of its own, and kept wandering to the shaft so it could experience the rough texture there. It was only when he, too, began to cum in my mouth that I remembered that I was supposed to be sucking him, and not pleasuring myself by running my tongue over the large bumps.

Sharon again pulled my head away from its hot work, and asked me if I'd ever tasted semen like that before. Since my throat seemed to be permanently glued closed by the three loads it had tried to deal with by that time, all I could do was nod my empty head. That must have satisfied her, for her only response was to push me to the next man in line.

Standing there in front of me that time was Carl, who, like everyone but Chad, I'd never seen before that night. His penis appeared to be so normal, with no visible mods whatever, that I was momentarily confused. Then, as I continued staring at his crotch as his manhood stiffened until it was almost pointing at the ceiling, I realized with a start that he had no balls. He had been castrated!

Sharon broke through my reverie then, saying, "Doesn't it look just like he's been castrated, honey?" I must have nodded in agreement, because she continued, "Well, he hasn't. Not all the way, anyway. One of his nuts was cut off and the other one was stuffed up inside his body. When his bag was trimmed and sewn back together, it looked just like he didn't have anything at all down there. The nice thing about it is that the one nut inside him still lets him get hardons." She stopped to catch her breath, then said in a matter-of-fact voice, "We've been talking about maybe doing that to you, too, but I decided there was something better to do with yours. Now suck him off so we can get on with it."

Again I took a man's cock in my eager mouth, and again I was lost to the strong emotions that produced in me. I loved the feelings that brought back my childhood years, when my cousin let me do that same thing, and I did my best to make up for all the lost opportunities since then. I licked and sucked him to the best of my ability, and soon he, too, made that final thrust deeper into my mouth, and gave me my reward.

Sharon didn't even take time to try to humiliate me by asking if I recognized the taste of Carl's semen (I did), but merely pushed me toward the last man in line.

His name was Josh, and his crotch was the most-fascinating of all. The first thing that I noticed, of course, was that his penis was only two inches long, and the tip of the thing was blunt, and covered with a large amount of scar tissue. I was sure that it must have had a head at one time, but that part had been removed. That alone would have been enough to drive me crazy with lust, because, like many submissive men, I had long fantasized about having my little thing removed.

She then said, "Now look real close at his cock. I want you to get a good look at him, and then I'm going to tell you something."

I shuffled my knees to move my body until my nose was almost touching his crotch, and soon was staring avidly at the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my whole life. His penis, which I had initially thought was the shortest I'd ever seen, was actually full size in terms of circumference, even though it was only two inches long. It was only then that I realized more than just the head had been removed, and knowing that sort of thing had been done to him just about made me pass out with the jolt of lust that shot through my body.

Sharon brought me out of my reverie by saying, "Isn't it exciting to look at something like that, honey? Just think what it must have felt like when that was done to him. His cock used to be almost eight inches long, and he said that he started shortening it about five years ago, taking off an inch every year at a party just like this one. About two months ago, we removed another inch, and now his cock is only two inches long." It took awhile for me to acknowledge that she'd used the word "we" in her sentence, and my head snapped around toward her, and I gasped in shock. She laughed loudly, then said, "That's right, honey. I helped cut it off him. I wanted to practice so I'd be ready when it was your turn."

She caught her breath, then continued, "Do you remember me telling you about that special story I read when I was a little girl, where the woman described all the things she'd trained her husband to do for her? I also told you there was something really special that I wasn't going to tell you about until it was time, something that she said just drove him out of his mind and made him the best slave ever. Well, now I'm going to tell you the rest of it."

Again she had to pause to regain her composure and clear her throat. At last she said, "What she did to her husband, we're going to do to you tonight. And when we get through with you, your little thing will look just like Josh's, except yours will be two inches shorter. I'm going to give you about a month for your balls to drive you crazy, and then I'm going to make you the best human toilet in history."

There was complete silence in the room after she stopped speaking, broken only by the sound of someone moaning and gasping for breath. Just as I realized those sounds were coming from my throat, I felt Chad's hands lifting me to my feet. Ray handed her a short length of cord that had a slipknot tied in one end, and she quickly placed the noose over the head of my little dingus, and then jerked it as tightly closed as she could. The jolt of pain that produced cleared my head a small amount, and it was enough to make me follow behind her as she said sharply, "Come on," and walked from the room. I could hear the other men walking behind me, but my wife was the center of the universe right then, and I paid no attention to them.

She led me down a long hallway, to what was probably the back of the house. She paused long enough to open a door, then with a movement that spoke of long familiarity, reached through it and turned on a light. It was then that I saw a set of stairs, and knew she was taking me to the basement.

We made our way down the stairs, with her jerking on the cord every step of the way to remind me to keep up. Soon we reached the basement floor, and she continued leading me to a door in a nearby wall. We stood there waiting while Ray took a key out of a hiding place behind a cabinet, and then watched him unlock the door. Again, Sharon demonstrated her familiarity with the house by reaching inside the opening and turning on a light.

As she led me through the doorway, still jerking on the cord that was tied around my dick, I had my first sight of something that has figured prominently in my dreams ever since that night.

In the bright illumination provided by the large light dangling just four feet above it, I saw what at first appeared to be nothing but a wooden table, with its top measuring about three feet wide and five feet long. It was mounted atop four very-large legs, which held it about three feet above the floor. At one end of the table, which I soon learned was the foot, a board about two inches thick and six inches wide had been attached to the legs, with it side surface placed flat. I immediately thought is was probably a step, but when I saw that each end of the board had been notched with a half-circle shape, I was confused.

It was the other end of the table that described its true purpose, though. Attached firmly to the upper corners were two leather bands with large buckles on them, and I knew I had seen them before in certain kinds of magazines: they were undeniably wrist restraints, and their presence told me in no uncertain words that it would soon be my body they were restraining in place atop the table.

Sharon turned to me then, and her whole body was trembling as she spoke. "Isn't that just the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your life, honey. That's where we strapped Josh down when we took another inch off his cock two months ago. I've known ever since that time that it wouldn't be much longer before it would be you tied down there, and your useless little weenie feeling what his was. God, it's been all I could do to wait this long, but I knew that the longer you went without cumming, the more cooperative you'd be. Now, let's see if I waited long enough."

She then dropped the cord and placed her hands on my waist, indicating with slight pressure that she wanted me to turn my back to the table. As soon as I'd done that, she told me to back up so my butt was touching the edge, and then to spread my legs and put them in the cutouts in the ends of the flat board. I knew then that, far from being a step, the board was another type of restraint, even though there were no leather cuffs attached to it.

An image flashed through my head then, of something I'd seen at a Website that had lots of pictures of men being tortured. The one particular photo I remembered showed a naked man lying on a horizontal X-beam, with his arms and legs stretched as far toward the ends of the thing as they could go. It was only when I peered intently at the picture that I saw the nails that had been driven through his hands and feet, crucifying him on that oddly-shaped cross. I was sure that my own body would soon be secured in place by nails driven through my knees, for that's where the cutouts were.

As I began to gasp in fear and arousal, Sharon interrupted my silly fantasy by saying, "Now lean back over the table. Stretch your arms just as far as you can so we can get the restraints on them. You need to be completely stretched out so you can't move while we're giving you your mod."

She said nothing else, but merely stood there looking at me expectantly. I knew to the core of my being that I was being tested then, and if I failed her, she would probably leave me. I also knew that if I did as she asked, I would soon experience the most-agonizing pain possible, for I had no doubt that she was fully serious when she said my penis was to be totally removed.

I struggled to breathe as I stood there, already knowing deep in my heart that it was not in my power to disobey my wife. My body almost collapsed backward as all my muscles loosened, and when it hit the tabletop, my head almost bounced from the impact. As I extended my arms toward the top corners, I heard Chad laugh and then say, "My, he's a good little boy isn't he? It looks like she's done a good job of training him."

He then walked to one of the upper corners, grabbed the hand lying limply there, and began to stretch it toward the leather cuff. I heard my shoulder pop as he stretched it, and then as I twisted my head as much as possible to see what was happening, saw Sharon fastening the buckle. Chad then repeated the process on my other arm, again making my shoulder pop, producing a cry of pain from me. Soon that buckle had also been fastened in place, and all I could do was lie there completely immobile as I awaited my fate.

The true purpose of the notched board at my knees was then demonstrated, although I couldn't see exactly what was done. However, I did see Ray walking toward the foot of the table carrying a set of handcuffs, and then I felt someone's hands around my ankles, drawing them together. The purpose of the wide board that held my knees in its half-circle cutouts then became immediately apparent. The action of drawing my ankles together produced the equal and opposition reaction of spreading my thighs as far apart as they could possibly go, and that intensified the sensation of being more vulnerable than ever before in my life. However, that sensation receded to the background as my thigh muscles reacted to the unnatural stretching by sending a jolt of agonizing pain throughout my entire body. I could not stop myself from crying out at the top of my voice.

Sharon slapped me forcefully, then said, "Shut up your fucking whining, you worthless little wimp! You've wanted this to happen all your life, and now it's going to! Now just keep quiet and enjoy it as much as I'm going to." I willed my lips to clamp shut, ashamed that I had embarrassed my wife, who meant everything in the world to me. I tried to tell myself that, no matter what was done to me, I wouldn't utter a sound. Deep in my brain, though, a nagging little voice was telling me, "Yeah, right."

Sharon then looked down at me for a long time as the room remained completely silent. At last she leaned over my head and kissed me fervently, making me doubly ashamed of my cries of pain. I knew she loved me as she loved no other man, and what she was going to do to me was nothing other than what I'd fantasized about for many years. Again I resolved to remain silent as I was tortured by my wife and her lovers.

As she straightened, she looked off to her side, where Ray was pushing a wheeled cart toward the table. As it entered the cone of light coming from above, I tried to lift my head, so my eyes could tell my brain what he was bringing, for I knew with a certainty they would be instruments of torture, and if I could see them, I could at least prepare myself for what was to come.

Continued in Chapter 7.