The way of the fagot

The way of the fagot

When Jane my wife pegged me, it fucking well hurt! She wore a proper strap on harness, over the skin tight black leather jeans. The black cock insouciant, modelled on a circumcised phallus looked part of her. It stuck out in front of her like a prod, and I am quite sure that she was proud of it. With it, she was going to fuck me. She was going to fuck me until I squirted and when I did, beneath what she did to me, then I would be their bitch. A man who pandered to her and Carl’s demands, who bent over and took it up the rear, submitting to them, was not a man at all, he was simply a whimpering fagot.

My wife is slim, average height, not especially gym honed or amazonian in stature and I knew that owning me was important to her. Once she fucked me it didn’t matter that I was bigger, six feet tall and better muscled than she. I had capitulated to her. I had sucked her strap on, kissed her leather clad buttocks and licked her boots, all captured on video clip for Carl to see. He liked her in control. He liked her humiliating me.

I remember that we were away on holiday with Carl, a cottage down in Cornwall. I had spent a month wearing prospectively bigger butt plugs so as to get used to having my arse fucked for me. I would soon enough not only be licking, sucking and pulling on his todger till he spunked down my throat, I would be putting my butt up for him. Taking cock, or strap on up the rear destroyed he last vestige of husbandhood. I was other, something different. I was a mixture of serf and plaything. I still earned a good living but I spent nearly all of that on Jane’s clothes. I kept house for her and him. I cooked (more than tolerably well now), but being their bitch this way, was what truly sealed my role, my identity.

Jane watched me come out of the toilet. She was seated cross legged in the chair, her strap up stacking upright like a finger insult. It was already lathered with a oil that made it glisten and which the product blurb said increased chemical stimulation up on my prostate. My cock was out of its cage for a while and Jane gave me her ‘well?’  look.  I nodded. I had been to the toilet, made space as it were, and squirted up that nice cleaning douche that would make the fucking and the subsequent sucking and licking easier.

‘Come here’ she whispered and glanced down at the strap on. It was about as long and as thick as Carl’s cock, that was how she had chosen it. I WAS going to learn to take his full length. But she chose it too because it made her look arrogant. She wore it like a banner, you could fly her colours from it. I came and knelt before her, naked save for the leather collar tight about my throat. I started to lick and kiss that which made me yelp.

‘Verity is fucking her bitch regularly…you won’t let me down!’ she whispered firmly, stroking her fingers through my hair.

When I licked and sniffed near the base plate of that phallus I could smell her sex. To be more precise, I could smell his cum inside her. It made her smell musky, instinctive, earthy and primal in some way. She didn’t comment but watched me licking, sniffing, running my lips on the weapon. I know, she was thinking about Verity. Her girlfriend. this wasn’t a race, but Verity had turned her husband into a bitch. She was fucking him regularly and he came meekly to her boyfriend’s black cock. Jane expected no less, even though there would be tears along the way.

Jane has a lot of rings on her fingers, horny, extravagant, stone set rings made in Turkey for vain men. But Verity and she saw them as bitch control rings. People like bitch Peter and me were meant to spend a lot of time kissing them! I felt them catch in my hair. She teased my left ear. Someone once said that acupuncture there could get through any amount of pain. So now, a rub, may be that would help?

‘Pop your butt up’ she ordered me.

I did as I was told. I leant forward on the floral patterned sofa and popped my bare buttocks backwards for Jane’s control. The curtains weren’t drawn but then this was the back of beyond and the only person who might come to watch was Carl. I heard her squelch the lube and then two fingers worth were rubbed up inside my hole. She massaged it around there, making my skin quiver.

‘You’re not so tight, that’s better’ she observed casually.

There was another squirt sound as she lubed the sculpted glans of the strap on. Then, without further ceremony, she started to rub its head around and around my butt hole.

‘You been fantasising about Carl’s cock?’ she asked, slipping the tip in for just a second.

I groaned. It was a promise of what was to come.

‘Your cunt Miss…your cunt’ I admitted.

She smiled. That was good too, but I had to learn to obssess about master’s cock. I had to learn to crave it, not just in my mouth, but up my ass as well.

‘Dripping with Carl’s shot huh?’ she teased and stroked my buttocks, teasing them apart so that she could see her weapon head lurking where it would soon enter. ‘If I can take that cock, then you can too’ she snapped. I felt it shove two inches inside me and I yelped. It was like a fucking broom handle. It….was………I’d fallen on a fence pole. My ring piece was gripping the strap on, but Jane couldn’t feel it. Instead she looked down and told me to stop tensing.

I tried panting. I tried the breathing technique that women use when they are to give birth. Somehow, I managed to relax and she pushed in a couple of more inches. I gasped down big breathes then, huge fucking breathes and begged her to go easy. She was massaging my buttocks and then a hand went below and she started on my cock.

‘Do you want Carl….do you want him to take you?’ she challenged.

She started to tease my cock.

‘Yes, god yes’ I moaned.

‘So you’ve been thinking about his cock, erect, proud and so fucking stiff?’

Another couple of inches were taken, she was wedged up me then. I couldn’t escape.

‘yes!’ I gasped.

She started to masturbate me. It was a bit of a reach. But this was how Verity made her bitch beg for strap on. This was how he had been pushed over the edge to become a fagot.

‘God Miss….oh god!’ I moaned. I could feel sweat breaking out all across my brow. My cock was stiff and even if it was at finger tip reach, she was teasing it. I felt her start to work the strap on inside me. I felt that fucking sculpted head deep inside me working against the back of my prostate.

I started to grunt. Grunting isn’t dignified. It’s not dignified to grunt. But each time Jane stuck me with that fucking thing a grunt came out.

‘I love fucking you bitch’ she mewed.

She did……she did. The butt base of that strap on pressed against her clitty in a merry little bumping roundelay. The more she humped me the more it rubbed her clit. I was grunting like a pig now. Dear God, oh god….I wanted Carl. I wanted Carl to take me. His cock was flesh and would work me, this thing, hard and domineering, it just stuck me. She was sliding more easily now and the shaft was going deep. I’d learned this. The first six inches were the worst but once she was properly up me, the sliding seemed to encourage the silky white coating from my gut onto that tool of hers.

‘You loving it now bitch?’ she asked and checked the hardness of my cock with her finger tips. I was bullet hard! I was bullet hard and my balls were jangling.

‘Yes Miss….yes miss’.

‘Good’ she soothed, ‘because I’m going to show Verity how you enjoy it, the next time she comes around.’

She pounded the fucking thing inside me, ramming the weapon to the hilt up my rear. Its each thrust I arched my back and groaned like a slut. The only way  I could cope was by breathing with my mouth wide open. I looked like I was being stuck!

‘Please Miss, please Miss….’ I begged as the strap owned me.

‘Fucking bitch…you’re nothing but a fagot aren’t you.’

Jane bucked into me. She fucked it up me with what can only be described as bonhomie.

‘I adore you’ I gasped.

‘I don’t give a shit about you….you’ll beg Carl for it, take it like his little bitch, and then I’ll acknowledge you’ she rasped. Her voice was husky, her voice catching as she cursed me with the assessment.

‘God!!’ I gasped and I kid you not, my cock squirted all over the sofa back. Three, four five hosing squirts. It was an incredible feeling as if she plugged my balls into the water supply and blasted them through, empty, with a pressure hose.

I was sobbing.

‘Dirty slut’ she said, watching my cock jerk and drain its last. My cock gyrated and wound its way down, jerking, shrinking, jerking.

I felt Jane pull out of me. I always felt at this points as though I might be cholera incontinent. I always thought that I would soil myself. I never did. All that dripped out of my arse was slime from the pumping that she had delivered. I dropped forward, my face in the nearest cushion, sucking down the air, smelling the scent of my arse and cum and thinking, thinking about Carl as she had directed.

After the shortest respite, I turned to where she stood, the strap on pointing at me. She smiled. She had taken me to the hilt. I was to lick it all clean, every last inch of the fucking thing.

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