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Father And Son Cuckolded

Written by Throne / Aug 6, 2009

 

FATHER AND SON CUCKOLDED by Throne

The past year had been busy for Billy Lowenthal. He had came from London after finishing college there. It had been an unnerving shock to return and find his widowed father Anson remarried to Regina. She was taller than his dad and seemed to have the 40-something under a spell. Anson followed her around wordlessly and jumped to do her bidding. That had been disturbing enough but then, on his first night home, Regina had her friend Janet over for a visit. Billy was smitten. He was small like his father and Janet was a six-footer like his stepmother. Billy fell for her and, with Regina pushing matters forward, found himself wed to the alluring young woman a month later. That was when life had changed for him -- abruptly and alarmingly.

Before we go any further, let me describe the two women. Along with their unusual height they possessed zaftig figures, with curves that left their husbands drooling. Both had long dark hair, worn down and cut in bangs. Middle-aged Regina favored exotic clothes and always wore excessive make-up. Janet's fashion choices were equally outre, but in a more slutty style. They also favored sexy footwear, including stiletto pumps and fetish-friendly boots. So you can see how the Lowenthal men would have been affected.

Anson had completely fallen under Regina's wicked spell. She made him run and fetch for her, hand launder her lingerie, and do the housework that should have been hers. As soon as Billy was married, Janet insisted that they move in with his stepmother 'to save money'. Not only did he learn that his father had been reduced to a house slave but found himself being likewise transformed. The two of them were allowed very little clothing and had no time to themselves, other than when they were at work, earning money that they had to turn over to the women.

The stage was set. It was time for Regina and Janet to deliver their masterstroke. Or should that be MISTRESSstroke?

"Anson!" Regina yelled. "Get your worthless lazy ass in here. NOW!"

The overworked husband got up from scrubbing the kitchen floor and hurried to answer his wife's angry summons. All he was wearing was a tiny frilly apron with a big bow tied in the back. The garment didn't come down far enough to cover his small penis and left his pink bottom uncovered. He stood nervously before his domineering spouse, afraid even to ask what she wanted.

"We're having company tonight," she said. "Here's a list of additional chores for you to complete in the next two hours." As she held out the sheet of paper he was transfixed by her long fingernails, painted magenta.

Then he snapped to his senses. If visitors came, would they see him the way he was now? That idea was too much for Anson to bear. Without thinking he spoke out of turn.

"Bu... but, I've done so much work already today. And I haven't eaten since I had that little bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. An... and I..." He summoned up what little remained of his courage. "I don't want anyone else to see me like this."

Regina rose in one sinuous motion and stood looking down at him. Her red leather boots had three inch heels. He took a step back, already regretting his spontaneous words.

"So, you have too much to do? We have your idiot son helping you now, don't we? And you never had help before. So how can there be too much work for you? Unless, that is, you've slowed down, you lazy slug."

He quivered before her. The truth was that, while there were now two of them doing the housework, the women had doubled the work load, having the same jobs done two days in a row, and adding frivolous jobs like moving furniture, only to have to return it to where it had been originally. But Anson knew better than to try to explain or contradict.

"And your breakfast wasn't enough to get by on? Oatmeal is very healthy, especially when it's plain, without any sweeteners that might upset your delicate system. Remember before we got married, how you used to love eating all sorts of delicious food and drinking fine wines? That wasn't good for someone with a sensitive constitution like yours. You should be thanking me for putting you on a strict diet."

Again, he wanted to respond, to point out that his meals were all bland and there was never enough food. And that his system had been relatively good before. He had loved to eat and drink all his favorites. Now he was always hungry and yearning for something with flavor. But this too he couldn't say to her.

"Plus, you don't want anyone to see you the way I have you dressed. Did it ever strike you that you're dressed like that for a reason, stupid? You have lots to do around here and I can't have you ruining your good clothes. I had to put you on an allowance to keep you from wasting money, so now you can't afford to replace anything that gets destroyed. It's too bad if you don't want anyone to see you the way I have to. I suppose you think everyone else deserves better than I do. Well, Anson, this is just one more case of your bad attitude getting you into trouble. Now stand still."

He knew he was in for punishment now. She went to the sideboard and took out a pair of red leather gloves, opera length, and slowly, sensually, donned them. Below his apron, her husband's dick twitched. It had been so long since he had any sort of sexual release. Along with his enforced abstinence, Regina was always dressed so invitingly. Like right now, she had on that short black leather skirt, tight sleeveless top, and smoky stockings. He whimpered with need, even though he knew he was about to suffer physical abuse.

She told him, "This is going to hurt me more than it does you."

Then she drew back her hand. Anson stiffened but didn't move. She slapped him hard across the cheek and then raised her other hand, paused a beat, and smacked the opposite side of his face. Each blow rocked him but he kept his feet where they were. To move would earn him even harsher mistreatment. Unhurriedly she delivered another half dozen slaps with each hand, until his the sides of his face were blazing red and burning with pain. Tears filled his eyes and his lower lip trembled.

Regina told him firmly, "You will now do all the jobs on that list and do them perfectly. Or else. Understood, worm?"

He nodded mutely, the tears running down his sore cheeks. She pushed him out of her way and strode from the room. As terrible as his discipline had been, he found himself thinking about her figure, those exciting clothes, and her boots. His penis was now fully erect, an unimpressive four slender inches.

At the same time, in another part of the large old house, Billy was being lectured by Janet. She was scolding him for not getting her panties clean enough.

"Did you do everything like I taught you?" she asked in a tone that suggested she didn't think he had. "Did you lick the crotch of each pair to pre-soak any residue from my bodily fluids? And how about the seats? I'm sure there were skid marks. Did you put those areas into your mouth to get them nice and wet, and suck on them until all the worst stains were gone?"

He made a face. This was all new to him and he was disgusted by it. At the same time, he knew he was falling deeper and deeper into the spell cast by her body, erotic wardrobe, and controlling attitude. Billy nodded with downcast eyes.

"Yes, dear," he told her sincerely. "I was very careful."

"Hmph. I'll have to give you a little test. Maybe I should wear each pair for more than a half day. How about a full day? Or two? That would give you something to work with. Imagine having a pair of my panties that I wore that long in your mouth. Hmmmm?"

He shivered with mental discomfort but also with a strange desire. What was she doing to his mind? His penis began to get firm. He couldn't hide it because all he had on was pink leg warmers and a lace choker. His bottom was still rosy from twenty swats with a sorority paddle earlier in the day. He had made the mistake of staring too much at Janet's boots. He couldn't help himself. Just look at how she was dressed. His young bride had on a leather vest with nothing under it, micro-mini-shorts that left her asscheeks half bare, and tall, brown leather boots with square toes and tall stacked heels. He was staring at them again, he realised as she grabbed his ear and gave it a hard twist.

Marching him along as she left the room, Janet told him, "We're having company tonight and you're going to clean every bathroom in this house. To make sure you concentrate on your work, you'll use the fingernail brush I warned you that you might have to switch to. You know where all your cleaning things are," she went on as they reached the upstairs bathroom, "so get to work, you worthless lump."

She propelled him into the room and he lost his balance and fell hard on the tile floor. Trying not to cry, he crawled forward and took his tools from the cabinet under the sink. He had to work with a pink plastic bucket meant for a little girl to take to the beach, and now the tiny brush intended for no job larger job than cleaning one's fingernails. It was not only humiliating but would make the work take many times longer than it should. As he reached over the side of the claw-footed bathtub to run hot water and add soap powder to the bucket, Billy was aware of the sight his paddled ass made. He had a mental image of whoever was coming to visit seeing his backside in that state. He almost said something to his wife but had already learned how costly that could be. Instead he got the bucket full of hot soapy water and went to work, beginning around the base of the toilet.

Two hours later the father and son had finished their demanding chores. They were called to the foyer, still in the demeaning outfits they had worn to clean. It always pained them to see each other that way. But now someone else was going to view them in their absurd, emasculating and revealing garb. It was almost too much to bear yet they had no choice. The women liked that, keeping them in a carefully balanced state that allowed no escape or even any relief.

Then the antique doorknocker thumped loudly against the heavy, oak front door. Both men jumped at the sound. Regina gave Anson a swat on the rear with her hand. He looked at her with pleading eyes. She was attired now in a clinging, neon pink dress that showed off her legs and cleavage, as well as red shoes that would have been perfect on a hooker. Janet wore yellow latex shorts that molded themselves to every contour of her pelvis, including the cleft of her ass and the divided mound of her pussy. Her electric blue top was not only tight but nearly transparent, so that her nipples were plainly visible. Her feet were shod in garish shoes that were even more slutty than Regina's.

Anson got no pity from his wife. He put his hand on the doorknob, thinking not only what their visitors would think of him and his son, but how they would be impressed by his wife and daughter-in-law's trampish look. He pressed his thighs together, wishing he could hide his genitals, and pulled open the heavy door. Standing there looking amused at his foolish appearance were two tall, broad shouldered men. They were dressed casually, in slacks and sport shirts, and both had heavy beards that were buzzed down to near-stubble. Anson shrank back instinctively at the sight of those alpha males. One was around Regina's age and the other a bit older than Janet.

The nearer guest pushed past Anson and went to his wife, wrapping his strong arms around her and giving her a deep kiss. The other went straight to Janet and treated her the same way. Both women welcomed the attention and freely ran their hands over the men's bodies. Anson and Billy were shocked but remained silent. They followed the two couples into the den, watching the women's bottoms roll as they walked. Once there, the guy with Regina, who was named Jack, made drinks. The other guy, Nick, sat next to Janet on the couch and threw his arm around her shoulders. Then Jack sat next to Regina on the sofa and acted similarly familiar, setting his hand on her fleshy thigh.

"This is perfect," Regina declared. "We girls are finally going to get some proper sex."

Anson's eyes went wide. Billy's jaw dropped.

"What?" She glared at them. "You two wimps don't have what it takes to satisfy us. That's why we never even let you try. You should be glad we allow you to pleasure us with your sissy mouths."

Jack laughed. "You make these punks go down on you? Your husbands? And they don't even get laid?"

"That's right," she told him proudly. "Keeping them horny makes them better pussy lickers. But now that we've got them both trapped into marriage it's time for us to start cheating on them and have some fun." She brazenly squeezed Jack's crotch. "With you two studs."

It was Nick's turn to laugh. "And they aren't going to do a thing about it." He stared hard at the two weakling husbands. "Are you?"

Anson and Billy could only shake their heads. This was horrible. Their wives were about to commit infidelity. As poorly as the husbands were treated, they still had a strong sense of possessiveness about their spouses. After all, the women had made themselves the center of their mens' world. It would be terribly painful for Anson and Billy to have them commit adultry, which was one more reason for the women to do exactly that. They began to make out with their dates, who responded eagerly, pawing them and swapping spit. They also began undressing each other, baring more and more skin. The husbands just stood and stared with jealousy and anguish.

After lots of clothed foreplay the two couples proceeded to the women's bedrooms. Regina and Jack each took one of Anson's ears and hauled him between them. Janet and Nick kicked Billy along ahead of them. What the defeated husbands then witnessed was devestating. They had to watch their wives cater to those studs like whores trying to please their pimps. The men took advantage, demanding lots of cocksucking before they moved on to the main act. Jack got Regina on her back and had her throw her legs up over his shoulders. He shoved his eight inch cock into her without ceremony. Nick ordered Janet onto her elbows and knees so he could screw her doggy style. His thick eight went into her and, with each long stroke, nearly all of it reappeared. The husbands were distraught but could only stand and gawk at the wild action. Both of them, in spite of themselves, found themselves with their little dicks stiff and on show.

The wives mocked them, reminded them that they would never experience intercourse again, and told their lovers how superior they were in size and staying power. The sex went on for over a half hour with the women enjoying several loud animated orgasms each before the men shot their heavy loads. Anson and Billy were incapacitated by what they had seen. Both of them were at the lowest ebb they had sunk to since meeting their wives. So that was when Regina and Janet moved everyone back to the livingroom and finished off their spouses... together.

"This is the way it's going to be from now on," Regina announced. "Our studs will be over here whenever they please. We'll go out with them, too. And you two wimps will have to watch us have fantastic sex while we're here and go back to doing your maids' work when we're not. We'll make sure to wear our sexiest clothing around the house and everytime you look too hard at one of us you'll get smacked around and have your girly bottoms tanned. You have to understand, you losers, that both of us get off on cheating on you and hurting you, so this will NEVER end. Get used to it, geeks."

"That's right," seconded Janet. "We're going to have you licking our pussies morning and night. In fact, we'll have you lap them after we get pumped full of jizz by our real men." She laughed and the other three joined in. "Yeah, that'll really keep you insects in your place. And if you hesitate to do anything we tell you, you'll have to kiss our asses, and I mean deep inside. Damn, it's getting me hot again just telling you all this shit. Both of you will cry your spineless selves to sleep every night."

To seal the deal, both husbands had to crawl to their wives and, while the women locked lips with their lovers, the humbled men had to kiss their sexy shoes. Then the wives moved their hips forward until they were on the edge of the sofa and couch. Their spouses had to slurp up all the salty cum that filled their cunts and swallow every drop while the females jeered at them and said they'd be tasting sperm all the time from then on. It was, for the Lowenthal males, absolute humiliation. Both of them knew they would never be able to look their wives in the eye, speak freely to them, or assert the slightest amount of willpower around them. From that moment on Anson and Billy would be ridiculed, disciplined, demeaned, and cheated on endlessly, all the while feeling incredible lust for the wives they would never be allowed to enjoy, along with constant, blue-balled frustration.

Father and son looked at each other and wept.
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