Humiliated Sissy Husband Novels & Stories

"Haha. Riley Brown, You are a millionaire's daughter for God's sake. How can you even say that? It seems I have given you too much freedom Riley-boo, First that low-class job. And. Now A lowly beggar-husband. And even more, you are arguing with me?" "I'm sorry dada. I know I did something wrong. You can insult me, punish me whatever you want, I will accept it. But Please Don't say any bad thing about him. He isn't a lowly beggar. He is my husband. And a very nice man. Please respect him."

I did not know who it was. Suddenly, four men walked into our room. All of them were his office colleagues. My husband now smiled wickedly at me and said, "Will you be satisfied with these dicks or do you want more?" He shouted at me. I felt humiliated and was enraged. First, he didn't satisfy his wife ever and now he wanted to humiliate me. "I can satisfy all these dicks you bastard, unlike you who couldn't satisfy his only wife," I said in anger, mocking him.

Justin took his quick steps closer to us, and by the time he was close, I felt instantly humiliated that he actually went to console Regina rather than be by my side. My mouth dropped open in shock, and I felt betrayed that my husband had just proved in front of me that the rumors were true and that Regina was his mistress. “What does this mean?” I asked. Even though what I was seeing was already more than enough of a reason to explain things to me, I still mustered up the courage to ask about it. Already emotionally wounded by the sight of my husband comforting his whore instead of his wife, here I am seeking more emotional anguish. Justin had a remorseless glare for me when he turned aroun

I looked from his outstretched hand to him and then at my husband. I was confused. What did he want from me? Then, my husband said, his voice amused like his favorite game was playing out. “Let my men pay their respects to you, wife.” I swallowed. He was fúcking playing at being a god. He put me on a display to punish me and humiliate me. And now he was demanding respect from his men for me, from the same men who were part of my punishment. As both Kayne and Xavier took my hand and bowed their heads before kissing the back of it. I couldn’t help but feel less naked.

He stares at my pussy like it’s a meal he’s been starving for. “Look at this cunt,” he breathes. “Pink and swollen and dripping. When’s the last time anyone paid proper attention to this?” “I don’t – my husband never – ” “Never what?” “Never... looked at it. Like that. Like you are.” “Your husband was a fucking moron.” He leans down and spits on my pussy. I gasp – shocked, humiliated, unbearably turned on – as his saliva mixes with my arousal, dripping down to my ass.

My gaze shifted towards the two guys that were drowned in their game play. Hmm…they won’t notice, I said to myself. I leaned in, placing my lips close to her ear. “You think this is bad? You weren’t saying that when you were squirting on the locker room sink. Moaning like a slut for my cock while your son was on the court.” Her breath hitched. I could see her nipples peeking against the thin dress fabric. “Your husband doesn’t deserve this pussy,” I continued, my voice barely audible. “He leaves for weeks, comes back, and you’re still dripping for a kid half his age. You need to be filled properly. Bred. Don’t you?”

I turned at the sound of a familiar voice and then I saw him; Troy Stanford, the man who had decieved me into believing that he was my husband. My expression turned icy as I remembered the humiliation his family had put me through: Chelsea’s slap, Sydney’s and his mom's vindictive tantrums, and worse, the moment I had walked naked into Troy's bathroom, offering myself to him, convinced I was his wife. The embarrassment of that moment still made my stomach churn.

"He is my son, I know him!!! Don't worry, he can handle it! You will see, once that dump ass bitch meets his mate, he will be a simp, wrapped around his tiny finger!" He proclaimed which made Kiyaan laugh a little before a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes and his lips stretched into an evil smirk as he asked his husband slyly. "Like you?" He questioned jokingly which made Danish chuckle as he replied to him in an arrogant proud voice while looking at him with dotting eyes... " Yeah, like me! I am not ashamed to say I am simp for my wifey and a sucker to his fucking beautiful and tight little asshole."

I teased, my finger trailing down to his dick. “You don’t know the half of it,” he mumbled, turning us around as he slammed into me. “But you can take it right? You want to be a slut,” each word was enunciated with a sharp stroke, driving the word deep into me. “You wouldn’t mind being a slut for the Mason bulls,” he grunted, his finger slipping between us to pinch my clit. My hips buckled, my hands grabbing his shoulders, lost in the image he planted in my head. I opened my eyes, lost in a daze, shocked to find my husband smirking as he slammed into me.

The jackass even went as far as planning a date for them. A rooftop date! Just how much more insults would he throw in my face? How was that slut better than me? She did not, could not and would never hold a candle to neither my beauty nor my grace. And then there was the case of her stupid husband who couldn't see what the hell was going on. His wife was being shagged right under his very nose but the idiot didn't realize and he pissed me off way more than Adam himself did. If Harrison kept his wife on a leash, she wouldn't be clawing her hands after my man like the greedy slut she was.