A View of my Life

"He needs to be kept awake and occupied until I get home at around 2am. There's a list of chores on the coffee table. He should receive a maintenance spanking at about 1:30 so that he is nice and cowed for me and my boyfriend when we arrive. I'm giving you his key but he should not be unlocked unless it's an emergency. Feel free to have him paint your nails or give you a massage - he's very good at both. Under no circumstances is he allowed on the furniture. Text me if he disobeys you."

These are the instructions that my wife gave to the sorority girl she had hired to cucksit me while she was out on her date this evening. My wife had told me that she was tired of coming home from a date and finding chores undone, or evidence that I had sat on the couch, or detecting any jealousy from me that she was out all evening with another man while I sat at home.

My wife had explained to me that one of the benefits of joining the local hotwife community, besides access to talented black bulls, was the network of college sorority cucksitters who were happy to make some money on the side while getting to experience the "domestic" life of having a white husband for a night. Having a younger woman (I felt humiliated when she used this term - I'm only in my early 30s!) boss me around and discipline me would help me develop the proper respect for women that her future plans for us required.

This was our third cucksitter from the sorority. It was not that my wife was unhappy with the previous two ("far from it" she would say) it was simply that so many women from the sorority were eager to start cucksitting that my wife felt that she had to give each a chance in turn. My wife had been happily referring our previous cucksitters to other wives in the community for weeks. She especially liked to recount the story of how our second cucksitter had me write a letter to my wife's date thanking him for taking my wife out. My wife had howled with laughter while reading it and was then all the more eager for her date to take her to bed.

Tonight was my wife's first date with this particular bull. She had been excited all week in anticipation. They had met at a mixer last Saturday at the hotwife club. I had parked his car and then saw him talking to my wife, but my duties as a valet for the function had kept me mostly occupied. I didn't realize how thoroughly he had swept her off of her feet until they emerged later, hand-in-hand. He gruffly instructed me to retrieve his car and I dashed off quickly, only to see them making out on the sidewalk when I returned. My wife instructed me that I was to finish valeting the event, help clean up inside, and then drive our car home alone. I handed the keys to the man and stood there long enough to see my wife's head go into his lap before he drove off.

The next morning I was awoken by a text message with an address and the words "Pick me up. Bring slippers." When I arrived at the address my wife came out still wearing the little black dress and high heels from the day before, her hair wet from a shower and her neck marked from her lover's enthusiasm. To another observer she might look silly on her "walk of shame" but I saw her as a goddess - the most beautiful woman in the world. She thanked me for picking her up but told me that I had brought the wrong slippers - when we got home I was to wear a ball gag for 5 hours so that instead of talking I could concentrate on remembering which pairs of shoes were her favorites. "I've had a long night and I could use some quiet anyway," she elaborated.

And now here she was, wearing a sexy short dress to entice a man who had already taken her to bed once, instructing a cucksitter on how to treat me the rest of the evening. I knew she wanted the house spotless since, this time, she and her lover would be returning here for the night. Not that the bull would care what the house looked like; they never do. The sitter was giddy with almost as much anticipation as my wife. Women like my wife were practically idols within the sorority. Every woman there wanted what she already had: strong, black lovers who danced with them, seduced them, and made love to them. And a submissive white boy at home who kept the house, complimented them constantly, adored them, and got out of the way when a real man entered the picture.

The next part was that which I most dreaded. I don't even know why my wife thought it necessary - probably she enjoyed how much it humiliated me. My wife walked the sitter to my room while I followed meekly behind. A new woman was about to see the small space that was my own.

"This is his room!?" the sitter exclaimed as she she covered her mouth to, unsuccessfully, stifle a laugh. She had seen my bed - a single, low to the ground. She had seen my closet - filled with either simple home clothes or several servant's tuxedos that I wore to work at the club or when my wife hosted a gathering. She had seen my "decorations" - pictures of my wife in swimsuits and bikinis on various beaches clinging to the side of tall black men. In some pictures they were kissing or the man was groping her. Finally, she had seen my bookshelf - volumes on feminism, black history, matriarchy, cuckolding, and more. This was my bedroom; these were my possessions. "Yes, this is the space I permit to him," my wife told the sitter, "When you are married you should do something similar. You certainly don't want your husband crowding up the bedroom. Plus this helps remind him of his place. Oh... I forgot to mention, if he finishes his chores early you can tell him to work on his book report. He finished a new book on Wife-Led-Marriages last week which means he only has a few more days before I expect to read his thoughts on it." Of course my wife knew that I was hoping to finish the book report tonight. Last time I had taken a day longer than she expected and she had me wash every window at the hotwife club as punishment.

"Oh, I'd love to have him tell me all about the book!" the sitter told my wife. "Of course he will," my wife replied, "Have him do it while he rubs your neck."

What a great story, I'm looking forward to reading more,
Thank you ❤️🙏🏼 x

It was our fifth sitter who truly broke the mold. Halfway through my wife giving her instructions for the night she had blurted out "Can I peg him?" I likely turned as white as a sheet - this was something only my wife had done before. My wife, hand going to her chest in surprise, laughed and said "Well, sure, of course you can... but do you mind me asking why you want to?" The sitter, calming a bit, explained, "My best friend has a white boyfriend and she does it with him all the time. She loves it and told me I need to try it if I ever got the chance. The other girls at the sorority who have worked for you have told me how compliant your husband is so... I thought... maybe..." A smile had been growing across my wife's face and she replied, "Oh, honey, it's simply amazing. Whenever you are ready later tell my husband and he will show you where we keep everything."

What followed after my wife left with her date was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. A beautiful sorority girl, several years younger than me, whom I had met for the first time only hours before, blindfolded me and bent me over the bed in our guest room ("We can't make a mess in the master bedroom - your wife and her boyfriend will be needing it tonight!" she had told me with a ********** grin). When my wife pegged me it was stern but loving (as was much of her discipline). But this new girl, though she was petite, had some inner store of rage against white boys that poured out in ***** as she took me. She was relentless and made me repeat that I was "her bitch" over and over. Finally, after collapsing exhausted, she had demanded that I eat her out until she came twice. She was also the first sitter to ask that I perform this act upon her.

Normally, when my wife returns home with a lover, she dismisses the sitter quickly as she is eager to get to bed. But that night she had the sitter recount the whole episode before paying her and sending her on her way.

The next morning, after my wife and her bull from the night before had enjoyed a morning quickie and a shower together before the bull left, a friend of my wife's from the hotwife club stopped over for brunch. As usual I attended them as best I could though I was still quit sore. Of course my wife recounted the whole tale to her friend who gasped and laughed and gasped and laughed throughout. At the end she exclaimed "He needs to send her flowers!" My wife, perhaps not understanding at first, made a puzzled expression. Her friend elaborated, "She gave him a good rutting! he needs to properly thank her!." My wife, now overjoyed with the idea, leaned over and whispered something into her friend's ear. The friend, mouth agape from what she was hearing, shouted "Yes! Yes! That too!." They both laughed but apparently did not think it was necessary to share any additional details with me quite yet.

This was how, about an hour later, I found myself driving first to the florist and then onto the sorority house. My wife had not given me any money, so I had to purchase the flowers from my own allowance, but she did hand me a sealed letter and told me I was to deliver it to my "lover-girl."

I was greeted at the sorority house door by one of my previous cucksitters. "Hey cucky!" - she had immediately recognized me, "Are those for your sitter from last night? I heard you had quite a good time! I will go get her. Come inside." I waited in the foyer. To the left I could see a sitting area where two white girls were giving enthusiastic blow jobs to two black men. If they noticed me they gave no indication. To the right I could see a study area; a white board was filled with notes on black history and books and papers were scattered about. But no students were working there. A few moments later the girl who had greeted me at the door came down the staircase in front of me. Following her were three other girls, including my sitter from the night before. "You were right, it IS the white boy I made my bitch last night... and he brought me flowers!"

She then made me recount to her friends how much I had "enjoyed" the night before. As instructed by my wife I thanked her profusely and gave her the bouquet and then, the letter. She read it while two other girls peered over her shoulders. "Oh, we are going to have fun tonight girls!" she exclaimed.

I was not able to read the letter then, but, as the day wore on, I realized that my wife had told the girls that I was theirs to do with as they pleased for the day. My wife felt that I needed to thank not only my sitter from the night before but also the whole sorority for the service they were providing to the hotwife community as cucksitters. The sorority house was not exactly "dirty," but they continued to find things for me to clean for hours, and hours, and hours. It seemed that in each new room I entered I came upon a white girl and a black man engaged in some sexual act. I had been instructed not to speak unless given permission so, thankfully, whatever girl was giving me my next chore to do explained to the coupling couples that I was there to clean and would not get in their way.

Eventually I found what had become of the remains of the study session I had seen earlier. A black Professor from the University had come over for a private "tutoring" session for some of the girls. He was now in an upstairs lounge being "paid" for his services. He was seated. One girl rode him while two others lapped at his cock and balls and the pussy of the girl on top of him. "No hands girls!" he instructed them, "It's very important to me that you never touch me with your hands!" The girl who was escorting me whispered in my ear "He has a real thing about black superiority. He's fucked every girl in this house but none of us are ever allowed to lay a finger on him. One time two girls bumped into each other and one rested a hand on his leg to steady herself. He hogtied her and spanked her until she cried. You'd think she would want to stay away from him now but I know that she stops by his office every weekday afternoon..."

No other room was quite as intense as that one but soon I had cleaned nearly the entire house and was sent home. I found my wife on our couch cuddled up next to one of her bulls. "The girls texted me and told me all about your day. They said you did a wonderful job. Perhaps we will have to make it a regular thing!"

Great cuck sitter story, congratulations vex44, I hope this story isn't over!

WOW, This is fantastic! Please continue.

I agree, please continue
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Submissive Cuckold - lives for many years in a female-led marriage with a cuckold lifestyle.

Nice story that hits a lot of topics. I loved your description of the cuck's room. Is it adjacent to the master so that you can hear what goes on in there? Are you allowed out of your room at night? The sisters will need to find a little room for you in the sorority house, since you will be spending more time there in the future.

At the hotwife club there are words posted above the entrance to the main hall that read, "Every Woman Deserves One Good Husband... And Many Great Boyfriends." During the most recent remodeling the decision had been made to make the letters in the word "Husband" be white while the letters in the word "Boyfriends" were black. Looking around the hotwife club it was not difficult to grasp why this had been done. At one table you could see several couples, all the women white and all the men black, talking and laughing and enjoying themselves while a white boy bussed away the plates from their dinner. In secluded and dimly lit corners (the remodeling had added SEVERAL dimly lit corners to a complex that was already full of them) white girl heads could be seen bobbing up and down in the laps of black men. The dance floor was empty now, as dinner was winding down, but would later be the scene of grinding, twerking, groping, and fondling. The two bars, staffed by white boys, were packed with guests grabbing some after-dinner cocktails or, for those who had come alone, white women competing for the attention of any unattended black men.

On this particular night I had been assigned to "lounge" duty. The club had long ago abandoned any hope that people would wait until they got home to have sex. Construction had been done to add a wing of private rooms and the general rule was that any act more intense than a blowjob be taken to one of these lounges. But then, of course, this required that more white boys staff each event to escort couples (or threesomes, or foursomes, etc) to open lounges. These same white boys were also assigned to clean the lounges and change the sheets after each room was done being used. The club administration had originally thought that only two boys would be needed for this duty but soon couples could be found waiting for an escort and some lounges were left uncleaned for an hour or more. An investigation quickly discovered the reason: many couples could not resist pulling their white boy escort into the lounge with them. The white women knew that black men fuck all that much harder when a white boy is watching. Needless to say more white boys were quickly assigned nightly lounge duties.

Some couples using the lounges did tend to take things further. I had just emerged from a room where I had not only been "asked" to watch a strong black man have his way with an absolutely stunning redhead, I was often positioned below them. What better way to assert dominance and display exactly where white boys fit in this community than to fuck right over their faces while their penises remained caged? This, plus my cleanup duties (both of the load deposited on the redhead and the room itself), had caused me to be away from the main hall for quite some time. When I returned it was not a couple that I found waiting to be escorted but rather my wife, three of her best friends, and one black man who was built like a cross between an NBA Center and an NFL Defensive Lineman. I could see from the look in my wife's eyes when she saw that I would be their escort that this would be how I would spend the rest of my evening.

How does one man, even a black alpha Adonis, please four women at the same time? I can tell you from personal experience that he often doesn't place the burden entirely on himself. Of course at least one of the women will always be pleasuring him in some way, with her mouth or pussy or ass, and sometimes all of the women will be doing so. But he will typically act as a maestro of a sexual orchestra. In this case when we entered the room one woman was instructed to get to work with her mouth on his cock. Two were told to make out with each other for his viewing pleasure. And the fourth, my wife, was given the task of whispering in my ear while I watched the scene unfold. My angst and *********** was to be just as part of this performance as his sexual pleasure and conquest.

"I hope you realize that he is everything that you could never be," my wife began as the other participants got to work undressing themselves and each other. "Tonight his magnificent cock will enter each woman in this room multiple times while yours will never go near a mouth or a pussy again. He will make more women come with his dick in the next hours than your insignificant penis has in your entire life. Later, when you are eating his cum out of my pussy, I want you to remember two things: That you are not a real man.. and that I love you very much even though you will never please me like a man like this could."

All communities have their traditions, their rituals. Ours, of course, had many. Tonight there was to be one such celebration and our house had been selected to host. My wife was honored and overjoyed to have been picked to take care of this event. I, in turn, had been assigned double cleaning chores in the two weeks leading up to the date of the party. A few days ago she had found water spots on some of the silverware we were to use. She immediately placed a ballgag in my mouth (where it would remain for most of the rest of the day) and told me to move my bed to the basement and replace it with a ******** bag until after the party was over. I had wanted to apologize profusely but the ball gag meant that I could only try to do it with my eyes. Her attention, however, had already turned back to the seating arrangement.

We would be celebrating a homecoming party. One of the men of the community had a younger cousin from several states away who had joined the military on his 18th birthday. In the proceeding years he had been around the world but, amazingly for a well-built black man in his early 20s, was still a virgin. That fact was to change this evening in quite a spectacular fashion.

The competition to take this man's virginity had been fierce. He would, obviously, make the final choice for himself. But the men of the community had taken it upon themselves to hold competitions to whittle the list down to just a dozen finalists. For the past two months women had been competing to see who could dress the sluttiest, who could deepthroat a cock the furthest, who could give the best lap dance, who could ride a dick the longest before her legs gave out. Now maybe you will understand why my wife was thrilled to not only be selected as a finalist but also to host the event itself.

We had hosted dozens of dinner parties over the years since we had joined the hotwife community. But this one was, perhaps, turning out to be the most unusual. Typically our dinner parties were for couples - an even number of black men and white women (and then me: acting as the servant, butler, cook, and maid). Occasionally a man would come with a date on each arm. But tonight I was treated to the sight of a dozen beautiful women, my wife among them, all fawning over the attention of one black man. Even more unusual was their attire. As you can imagine, slutty outfits (tight dresses, short skirts, high heels) are the norm in our community but the women tonight had taken it several steps further in their attempts to be the first one to feel the girth of this man's cock. Some, after I had taken their overcoats, had revealed that they were wearing nothing more than lingerie. One woman wore a black ****** around her neck that read "BBC SLUT" in gold, glittery letters. Other girls had apparently taken their shortest skirts and chopped off the last several inches until very little below their waists was left uncovered. I'm honestly shocked that none of them turned up completely naked.

I had cooked all day and prepared a meal of which I was very proud. Very little attention was paid to it. The women picked at their dinners but were far too busy laughing at everything the man said and trying to fuck him with their eyes from across the table. The man might have enjoyed it but could never get a forkful to his mouth before he was paid another compliment, asked another question, or had a hand "absentmindedly" brushed across his cock under the table. No matter, all that were here knew the dinner was just a formality.

If the man had already made his final selection for the evening he kept it to himself. He milked the last part of this competition for all that it was worth. After dinner we moved to the basement - an unusual choice but it was the only place where I could affix a stripper pole between the floor and ceiling. Clothes, or at least what little clothing the women had been wearing to begin with, were flung across the room with wild abandon. Some women paired off to make out - perhaps this risque behavior would catch the man's attention? At least one woman was using the pole at all times (rumor has it that several had taken pole dancing lessons for just this occasion). Three or four women were constantly jostling to be the one that could grind an ass into his lap or breasts into his face. In his position I would have cum in my pants long ago (a testament to why he was the center of attention and I was scrambling to gather thongs, bras, and other garments from off the floor) but he was holding strong.

How does a man choose one sexual partner from among a dozen women who are all throwing themselves at him? I do not know what criteria he used but I cannot blame his choice. Of course I believe that my wife is the most beautiful creature in the world but the woman he chose, in the end, could easily have been a supermodel or movie star. Perhaps he wanted his first to be a blond while my wife is a brunette? Who can know? But eventually, after enjoying this feast that had been prepared for his eyes, he took one woman by the hand and told her to follow him, crawling on her hands and knees, to the waiting bedroom.

I may not have witnessed the scene that followed in that bedroom, but I can relate to you what eleven women do when their sexual needs are raised to an unimaginable height and then abandoned as the only real man in the house walks away with his prize following behind. The women left in the room with me descended into an orgy of lust that has lived in my dreams ever since. Strapons were brought out, as were vibrators, dildos, and other toys. Any frustration the women had at not being chosen was duly taken out on me. Some verbally humiliated me ("You're the only one left in the room with a penis but we're still not fucking you. How does that make you feel?") but others donned their strapons and demanded that I bend over the nearest piece of furniture.

No one in the house went to ***** until the very late morning. I never got a chance to ***** at all. My wife, after sitting on my face for an hour for a final few orgasms while she smoked a joint and chatted with the other women who were still awake, told me to begin the cleanup and to not, under any circumstances, disturb anyone's rest. Throughout the morning and afternoon women emerged from various bedrooms and chuckled as I handed them a robe and a bag containing the clothes they had worn the night before. Throughout my cleaning in the early morning hours and my attending to the women as they were leaving there was one constant - every two hours I would hear rhythmic pounding and moans of ecstasy emanating from the bedroom where the lucky couple had gone the night before. When she finally emerged, late that afternoon, the blond had the widest grin I had ever seen on a woman's face. My wife played polite but slipped her phone number into the bag of the man's clothes before he, too, left. Now that everyone was gone she, jokingly, told me that I would be punished later for not finding some way to make sure she was the one chosen. Or, at least, I hoped she was joking...

No new cuck-sitter vex44?

Monday nights were usually "our" nights. My wife would refrain from going out on dates or having people over the house. It was a special time, she said, for me to "rededicate" myself to her. On such nights a number of things are common:

First, I have to find some new way to express my love for her. Most of the time I have tried to find new ways to tell her that I thought she was beautiful and amazing. Other weeks I might buy her a gift (using my allowance of course) or learn a new massage technique to try on her. Very rarely I tell her that I will make some "sacrifice" in order to show my dedication to her; such as voluntarily giving up my release for the week or using my entire allowance to fund one of her dates.

Second, I am to express my admiration for one of her recent bulls. She has told me that I must do this to emphasize that I understand my place in our community. I find this part most humiliating because I will often start by praising her bulls but she will, specifically, question me as to how I compare to the aspect of her bull I have chosen. Several weeks ago, for instance, I had chosen to comment on the strength of her most recent bull. I had described his obvious muscular appearance. I had talked about how he picked up my wife so effortlessly. I commented on how my wife loved to grab his bicep or trace her fingers over her abs. She was, however, unhappy with this answer, "You need to compare yourself to him. You need to demonstrate to me that you know you could never be as strong as him; that you know you will never be able to toss me on to a bed and hold me down while you make love to me; that you are a weak white boy and he is a strong black man. That because of who he is he got to fuck me all day yesterday and that because of who you are you are now on your knees before me with your penis in a cage." I could only stare downwards but she demanded that I look her in the eyes and tell her all the ways that I could never be like her lover.

Third, I present whatever "homework" I had from the week before. Usually I am assigned to write an essay on an aspect of our relationship or our community. I kneel before her as I read aloud something I have written about female superiority over white boys or why it is important for wives to have both lovers and cuckolds. She will question me and then assign a new topic for next week.

Fourth, we review my behavior from the past week and decide on suitable rewards (these are rare) or punishments. As hard as I might try I am never able to avoid her finding flaws in my performance - I suspect this is by design. Sometimes I am told that I let one of her guest's ****** get empty before offering a refill. Other times I had neglected to refer to one of her bulls as "sir." One time I was assigned extra punishment because she had noticed that my bow tie was crooked while working at the hotwife club the Saturday before.

Fifth is my maintenance spanking followed by whatever punishments she has deemed I must receive immediately. No matter my behavior the previous week I still must bend over before my wife while she paddles me. She has told me that, "Even if your performance in your duties has been exemplary, even if your attitude has been perfect, you still must submit to this so that you know beyond any doubt that you are subordinate to me."

Finally, unless it has been revoked as punishment, we move to my weekly release. This is done in one of three ways. The first is very clinical: a vibrator to my penis until I cum. The second is very humiliating: I am ordered to "make love" to "my girlfriend" which is a blowup doll that I am allowed to hump while my wife eggs me on, often emphasizing that this is the closest I will ever get to making love to a woman. The third option is what my wife chooses on "special" nights: she unlocks me, dons her strapon, and pegs me until I orgasm. If I have been very good I am then permitted to cuddle with her in her bed until we both fall a***** or she dismisses me for the night.

Despite all of the *********** I must endure on these nights they are still very important to me. The only times we have missed them is when my wife has been away on a vacation with one of her bulls - even then we still do a potion of them by video call. This is why I was quite shocked this past Monday when my wife told me that our special time together was cancelled because something important was happening. I didn't know what she meant until an hour later when two black men showed up at our house with a beautiful, young white woman in tow. My wife finally explained things to me, "This woman has decided to join our community, but because her husband is pathetic he has kicked her out of their home rather than join her. She will be staying with us. You will stand in for her husband at her baptism."

"Baptism" in our community means the final conversion of a white woman to the ideology of hotwifing, cuckolding, and the superiority of black lovers. She spends several days in one place while black men visit her over and over to have their way with her. She must repeat over and over that she will never again permit a white penis inside her. She must scream out that she loves big black cock. Her white husband, or in this case me acting as a substitute, waits on all of her needs - food, water, cleaning her in frequent showers and baths, and anything else she might request. Baptisms require that a white boy be present to bear witness to the conversion and so that the white woman can tell him directly how worthless he is compared to her lovers.

From that Monday evening, having missed my release and my special time with my wife, until Thursday morning I was worked tirelessly under the direction of my wife. I slept little as during the time the new member of our community was able to ***** I still had to dote on my wife and keep up with my household chores. When it finally ended I was giving her a final bath. She had a glazed look in her eyes. Even though I had been her near-constant companion during her ordeal she had barely said a word to me, other than the derogatory remarks that the ritual required she say to me as a stand in for all white boys. But then, in this moment, she finally looked me in the eyes as I knelt next to the tub bathing her. I thought that maybe she would thank me or tell me that I had done a good job. What she did say, however, was "Yes... yes... this is right... this is where I belong... this is where you belong." I was more broken than ever but she looked away and closed her eyes. As she had not given me permission to speak I could only resume my duty of bathing her to perfection.

it's good you must continue this story, even if for the moment there is no more cusk sitter involved !

I like your story - please continue
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Submissive Cuckold - lives for many years in a female-led marriage with a cuckold lifestyle.

Wow, fantastic!

<<<wife's perspective>>>

I am my husband's savior. I have saved him from a lifetime of disappointment and inadequacy. Any relationship he entered where he had to please a woman with his penis would have ultimately ended in failure. I have ensured this will never happen. I do not need him to make love to me as I have real men, black men, to do that for me.

How do I know that my husband is not a real man? So many reasons. He wears a cage on his penis and kneels at the foot of the bed while real men fuck me. He held my hand while I got a Queen of Spades tattoo. He drives the car while I give my lovers blowjobs in the backseat. While other men call me "slut" my husband refers to me as "Mistress" or "Goddess." I spank my husband; my lovers spank me. I get railed by black dick while he folds laundry.

Because of me my husband is now able to focus on where his talents actually lie: servitude. His penis is tiny but he knows how to use his tongue. He is dutiful in his chores and he knows which of my lovers prefer beer and which ones prefer a cocktail. When my girlfriends are over he remembers to look downward rather than into their eyes. He worships me with his entire being.

I hope that this is a lifestyle that all weak white boys will one day embrace. They will never feel more at peace than when they set aside their futile attempts to please a woman sexually. They can serve while other men take their wives and girlfriends to bed. With their penises caged they will no longer be driven by sexual urges they have no reason to act upon. Under the discipline of a strong woman they will learn to be deferential and submissive.

This is the future that we - myself, my husband, my girlfriends with their submissive white boys, and our black lovers - are working towards.