Cuckquean Humiliation Novels & Stories

- Emil replied with austerity, as well as a certain bitterness. - War survivor! - He growled. - I know that this man has a bad knee; or had, at least. “Jumping out of a hedge because he saw someone else's wife, he's lucky he just isn't the crooked dick evil. - He said. - That's why they removed his kneecap. - He said. – Fell in his escape, still let the whole village know. – If the husband didn't depend on his wife, he's a cuckold, it's not enough to be a cuckold, he must be a meek cuckold. – He said, a gossip. “She's the rich one, he's just a young man in need of comfort. - He said. – Trophy husband. - He said.

Since I had deliberately hidden my injured right hand inside my loose white coat, Megan didn't notice it was hurt at all. She strode up to me and, without a word, slapped me across the face. "Donovan, as a doctor, how could you let jealousy drive you to kill your own patient? You're not even fit to be called human!" I pressed my tongue against the inside of my stinging cheek, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone from Megan's group already discreetly pulling out a camera. I chuckled inwardly. "What nonsense are you talking about? When did I ever kill my patient? Pierre's surgery—"

Can they even fathom how I’ve been living with myself? “I’m sure Mr. Leota dumped her that same night when he tried to fuck her, he must have thrown up.” Annie laughed, the mockery in her voice was too much for me to bear, I pressed my hands to my lips, stifling a sob. “I won’t be surprised.” The third woman snorted, the tap turning off. “We should change her nickname to cock sucker in the group.” “Or sore whore.” I didn’t even know who was speaking anymore, their voices jumbling into one mocking chorus.

But my Daddy's dick is inside my asshole, Mommy," Sheila moaned, as her Dad began fucking her faster... and harder. "He's always preferred to do anal," Carol said, "even though my preference is in my pussy." "Which is why you've brought so many sluts home for me to ass fuck," Robert said, feeling such a rush from slamming into his daughter. "Are you a cuckquean, Mrs. Jansen?" Essence asked. "I don't know what that is," Sheila spoke up. "It's a wife who likes to watch her man fuck younger women," Essence explained. "I guess I am one," Carol admitted to Essence. "Except most cuckqueans are submissive to the other woman, while usually I only submit to my husband during those scenarios."

Cuckold. A cuckold was a man who allowed his wife to have sex with another man, knowing it was happening and living with that knowledge. It was a word filled with shame, desire, and a kind of surrender most men never imagined for themselves. Like most young men, I would never have believed such a word could apply to me. I would never have believed it described something a man could become. Not long ago, the idea alone would have made me furious. I would have seen it as an insult worth fighting over.

Confusion turned to mortification as I realized he was laughing at me, his eyes taking over my naked form with distaste. I snatched at the bedsheet, tugging it over my bare body in a desperate bid for modesty, my cheeks burning as Nathaniel's taunts continued to pierce the air. "Oh, my sweet little pet is shy now?" His voice dripped with malice, the once sultry tone replaced by a scathing sneer. The mockery and disgust in his eyes felt like a branding iron searing my soul, the humiliation washing over me in soul-crushing waves. My world seemed to slow, each vile word piercing me anew, shredding my sense of self and replacing it with a consuming shame.

She rolled her eyes before muttering under her breath, "What a busybody old hag. Can’t even take a joke." Evan patted her shoulder reassuringly before turning to me. "There, she apologized, so don’t hold it against her. She’s only twenty years old after all, still at the naive age where she doesn’t think before she speaks." Then, he suddenly chuckled before stating with a tone of condescension, "Besides, you are an old spinster." I felt my breath lodge in my throat. My knuckles turned white from clenching my fists too tightly. "Apology not accepted."

All those women he’d dated—the ones I pranked and mocked, calling them ‘Hunter’s fucked ladies’ when they weren’t listening—I'm nothing compared to them. The sounds coming from his bedroom deep in the night, his thunderous groans of pleasure and intense grunts of satisfaction—those were the doings of the so-called whores. And me? I can’t even get past foreplay. What do I have to call them whores? Who am I to prank and mock them? I inhaled the tears of humiliation and retorted firmly, “you’re just being picky.” He coughed, looking incredulous. “I’m picky?”

A throbbing pain radiated through my nerves as various distorted faces magnified before me: "Just as I thought, it's you, the shameless homewrecker Samantha Jewel!" "How dare you, this brazen slut, show your face again!" "Dressed like a tramp, for sure, you're out trying to snatch another man!" "You cuckolded our perfect Mr. Long! I swear I'll beat you to death!" "Scram already, prostitute! Your very existence pollutes the air; why don't you drop dead!"

I thought. She dared. She backed away, palms up. “If it helps, I’ll tell people it was a crouton. Men eat croutons.” I held still. There are wars where the first casualty is truth. There are mornings where the first casualty is dignity. I don’t have to tell you which this was. I pecked the bread. It was excellent. That made me angrier, because pleasure during humiliation is humiliation itself. Talon leaned a hip against the desk, watching with the bland expression of a woman who is cataloguing your worst day for later deployment in a nicer story. “I’ll say this for you,” she said. “Even as a duck, you’re terrifying.”