Christmas cuckold
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Christmas Cuckold free porn video
CHRISTMAS CUCKOLD by Throne
(Story suggest by cuckytoher)
"B... but," Harold sputtered, "WHY do I have to dress like this?" His
wife Lela put her hands on her broad hips and cocked her head to the
side, staring him down. He gazed at her voluptuous figure and how well
it was shown off in the snug sleeveless top and clinging stretch pants
she wore. Her sexy shoes with their two inch 'chunk' heels didn't hurt
the image, either. He said, his voice fading as he anticipated defeat,
"It's just that when... HE comes here... it's so embarrassing to..." She
finished for him, "To have to be dressed like the pansy cuckold that you
are? Honestly, Harold, you should be used to it by now. It's been a
year since I had to start making you pretty to help you understand your
place in our marriage. And it's been six months since HE -- and you
should show more respect by calling him Drake -- started giving me the
good sex that you could never provide."
Lela continued to lock eyes with him. Slowly he lowered his gaze,
acknowledging that, as always, he was giving in. His narrow shoulders
sagged as he slumped forward, his soft belly protruding slightly.
Harold's weak chin trembled and he fought back tears. Finally, with no
hope of a reprieve, he asked, "Do I have to put it on now?" "Well," she
said airily, "I'm not sure when my lover will arrive so, yes, you'd
better get yourself all gussied up right away." He nodded miserably and
told her, "Yes, dear." She shook back her long red hair and ran her
fingers through those tresses that he longed to feel. As soon as he
turned his back she allowed herself a wide grin that showed off her full-
lipped mouth. Lela delighted in playing with him that way, allowing the
poor sap to imagine that he might actually have a chance of getting his
own way, even once.
Harold headed for his room, dragging his feet like a petulant schoolboy.
When he got there the outfit she had laid out on his bed looked even more
insulting than it had before. There were red, elastic-topped stockings
with white Winter designs on them, snowflakes and wrapped gift boxes and
(he didn't know why) unicorns. He sat dejectedly on the side of his
small bed with its colorful spread that had ruffled edges. As he pulled
the stockings up his hairless legs he sighed. Then came the open-toed
slippers, clear plastic with one inch heels, each with bright green,
plastic holly leaves attached to the front. He even had to check himself
in the full-length mirror that always made him see himself in whatever
awful costume his wife had dictated that he wear. If the stockings
weren't even at the tops, or one of the shoes had lost a holly leaf, he
would earn himself a punishment. She had mentioned the possibility of
his next spanking coming not from her, but from the much stronger Drake.
He shuddered to think of that.
Satisfied that those humiliating items were in order, he picked up the
most hated part of the ensemble, a bright green apron. He slipped its
strap over his head and smoothed it against his chest, which was as free
of hair as his legs. Lela insisted that he keep himself completely that
way. Harold pulled the long ties around behind them and made a big
flouncy bow which he checked in the mirror three times, knowing it would
be inspected closely. It was bad enough that the apron had cut-outs of
white poinsiettas sewn all over it, but what was worse was how little it
covered. In the front it was low enough on top to leave his nipples
exposed and short enough below that his undersized penis was on display.
The back, of course, covered nothing, so that his ass was there for the
world to see. Or at least for his wife and her stud, who would both be
amused by the shamefulness of it.
The final thing he had to wear was a fur pillbox hat, red on top with
white around the sides. It even had a big white pompom on top that
wobbled whenever he moved. In the mirror he viewed the image of a
totally disgraced husband who was so weak that his wife freely cheated on
him. He shook his head powerlessly and looked around the room. As soon
as she met Drake, Harold's spouse had banished her husband from their
bedroom, except if she was having sex with her Bull and wanted Harold
there to watch and, more and more frequently, participate. Now he was
stuck in this small space, most of which was taken up by his feminine bed
and a dresser whose top was covered by reminders of his lowly status:
lipsticks, earrings, a butt plug, one of her paddles, washable markers
that she could use to write on his body, a pink dog collar in his size,
and so much more.
Disconsolately he left the room to be viewed by his wife, who would
decide if she wanted to make him look even less masculine and more
foolish. She greeted him with a merry smirk. He felt his face grow hot
as he blushed. Harold knew he would never get used to being treated this
way. She walked slowly around him, taking in every aspect of his
demeaning costume, at the same time letting him get another eyeful of her
zaftig contours. He wanted her so desperately but knew that his chances
of ever bedding her again were nil. That was one area where even she, in
all her cleverness, couldn't keep him hoping. Lela nodded approval and
told him, "Now prance off to the kitchen and make sure everything's in
order. You know Drake expects cold beer, along with a bunch of snacks to
pick from. Harold froze. Had he remembered to stock up on beer and put
a six pack in the fridge to chill? He rushed to check, aware of how
shapely those heels made his legs look and how they caused him to swish
his bare butt. It turned out that everything was okay. Lela had just
been playing with his mind again.
Before he could relax, the doorbell rang. It was one of Drake's rules
that Harold always let him in, which meant that the mistreated husband
had to risk being seen by someone from the street. Harold nevertheless
opened the door and curtsied to the tall powerful man, who pushed past,
nearly knocking him down. Harold tried to find some way to stand so he
wouldn't be showing off so much skin but there didn't seem to be any
option that worked very well. He considered tugging down the front of
the unwelcome apron and holding it there, but that might provoke his wife
to spank him... or have her lover do it. Lela flew into Drake's muscular
arms and they shared a long passionate kiss. Harold's stomach turned
over. The hunk's hands ran up and down Lela, lingering on her bottom and
the sides of her boobs. Harold could only stand there cringing. When
the kiss was finally over, Drake sneered at him and said, "What's the
matter, Har-old? Don't you want your hot wife to get what she really
wants? Is that it, Har-old? Or maybe I should call you... Hanna? Yeah,
let's make it Hanna."
The two lovers laughed uproariously. They hugged again. Then Drake
stepped up to Harold and slapped him much too hard on the back before
saying, "Hey, pansy, go and get me a brew. And some of those spicy beef
sticks. Make it snappy, Hanna." The defeated man scurried off to the
kitchen. Moments later he stood there with a beer in one hand and
several beef sticks in the other, fighting back tears. He sobbed loudly.
It was going to be a long evening. A very very long one.
******
Lela had announced to Harold that they were going to the Centerville
Mall. He was glad to hear that because it meant he would be away from
the house, so she couldn't dress him in anything demeaning. But his joy
was short lived when she went into the hall closet and brought out a
hanger on which there was... an elf costume? Her husband actually
retreated several steps when he saw it. A picture formed in his mind of
himself wearing that among the throngs of holiday shoppers, all of them
staring at him. His mouth opened and closed but no words came. She
waited an extra half a minute, giving him time to object. If he didn't,
he was admitting what a wimp he was. If he did, she would have another
opportunity to grind him down and ultimately order him to wear it anyway.
Either reaction would cost him another of the regular losses that made up
his life with that desirable but unattainable woman he had married. He
shyly reached out and accepted it. When he took a second look he saw
that it wasn't just an elf outfit. It was a GIRL'S elf outfit. Suddenly
he was frowning and sniffling, his slender legs shaking. She just stood
there, silently inviting him to get himself into trouble. Instead he
retreated to his cramped room to change.
The elf suit was all in a lurid shade of green. The leggings were skin
tight and rode up into the crack of his butt. There was a close-fitting
jacket that was cinched in at the waist and below that it fanned out
several inches, suggesting a skirt. In case its tailoring didn't make it
girly enough, it had green sequins sewn all over its wide lapels. All he
had on under it was a green tank top. His feet were covered by shoes
with curled up toes. A cap with a pointed brim in the front, Robin Hood
style, and a feather sticking too far up, completed his ridiculous look.
He was telling himself hat at least he didn't look totally like a sissy,
when his wife produced several items of green make-up. She told him,
"You will look so darling, Hanna. Everyone will love it. They'll take
pictures." He wanted to crawl into a dark corner and hide but had to
stand there while she applied green lipstick and matching eye make-up,
along with a light brushing of green foundation that must have been from
a costume shop. Now he DID look like a sissy. She led him out the front
door, oohing and aahing at his appearance. One of the neighbors drove by
and laughed out loud.
At the mall it just got worse and worse. She paraded him around the
entire place, letting everyone see him. They went into that women's
fashion shop, Veronica's Secret, and she held up several underthings in
front of him, as if they might be for Harold to wear. Of course she had
positioned the two of them near the front window so strollers couldn't
miss the double spectacle of a man dressed as a girly elf AND possibly
being bought female lingerie. In fact, she did get him one piece of
sleepwear, a short nightshirt made of some shimmery material, in the
popular color, radiant orchid. It was put into one of the shop's
trademark pink handled-bags, which he had to carry. She made him elevate
his forearm and let his wrist go limp. People pointed and snickered and,
indeed, took pictures. His wife even made him strike some foolish poses
for them, calling him Hanna and making people wonder about his true
gender or sexual orientation. He thought it couldn't get any worse,
which was when Drake showed up, saying to Lela that he was glad she had
invited him to meet her there. They kissed lingeringly while Harold
stood alongside them and squirmed. The couple went to the food court to
get a meal. Drake bought Harold a triple-dip ice cream cone and told him
to walk the mall while he ate it. Lela made him take the pink bag and
now, since he was alone, it looked like it was definitely his. As he
turned to go she called out, "And don't try to hide, Hanna. Keep your
arm the way I told you to. I might have friends here who are checking up
on you." He doubted that was true but didn't want to risk it. After
all, the threat of being spanked by Drake was still in the air. At least
he had avoided that.
******
Christmas week arrived and Lela told her husband that she was having a
party and he would be serving the guests appetizers and drinks. His
first thought was about what he might be made to wear. Would it be a
maid's costume? Or maybe a carhop's outfit? But no, she had come up
with something even more debasing. It was... a bunny suit. A pink
nightmare with tall ears that swayed side to side, independently of each
other. She urged him to try it on -- as if he had a choice -- while her
girlfriend Fiona was visiting. Fiona had a figure as curvaceous as
Lela's, so Harold was doubly distracted as he stood there in the nude
with the pair of them staring at him and chuckling. The costume unzipped
down the back and allowed him to slide his legs into it. To his dismay
it fit much more tightly than he had expected, emphasizing his slender
legs, round buns, and soft middle. When his wife zipped it up, making
him feel trapped inside, he saw that the top half was just as form-
fitting. He pulled up the hood and his comical yet sissy-friendly image
was complete. Well, almost. She also drew long whiskers onto his face,
followed by pink lipstick and eye make-up, along with large circles of
pink rouge on his cheeks. Fiona surprised them both by revealing that
she was supplying long artificial eyelashes in the same color. It seemed
like fifty shades of pink. "He's soooo sweet," Lela enthused. "In fact,
I want him to stay in it all day until the party tonight."
Hours later he was still in that pride-crushing costume. Drake arrived
and Harold had to greet him that way. The big man laughed, pulled a pair
of fake buckteeth from his pocket, and shoved them into Harold's
lipsticked mouth, making him even more absurd looking. The bully said to
Harold, "Hey, Hanna, want a carrot?" "N... no, thank you," Harold
managed, his voice distorted by the fake dentures. The three watchers
had a hearty laugh at Harold's expense and then Drake grabbed Lela, gave
her a crushing kiss, and said, "We've got time for a quickie before the
guests start arriving." She giggled and hugged him possessively, saying,
"Whatever you want, love. You know I'll do any dirty thing that you tell
me to." He gave her a crooked smile, swept her up in his arms, and
headed for the bedroom. Fiona chortled at Harold's obvious discomfort
and told him, "Way to go, bunny girl Hanna. Standing there like the
loser you are while a real man takes your wife to bed and bangs her
senseless. And you're probably disappointed because they're not making
you watch. Or clean her up afterwards with your mouth. Right?" He knew
better than to contradict his wife's friend. Harold said through the
interfering teeth, "Yeff, Fionath."
An hour later the first couple showed up and Harold had to greet them,
lisping behind his rabbit teeth, being mocked and taunted for his
weakness. Others appeared soon after. In a short time the house was
full of revelers and he was racing about with food and drinks, looking as
stupid as he felt. Several women patted his tightly encased bottom, one
even saying she wished she had such a saucy butt. A tall guy grabbed him
from behind, bent him forward, and pretended to be humping him, making a
crude joke about 'screwing like rabbits'. It went on and on, with Harold
feeling like an utter failure, a joke. Everyone saw his wife touching
and kissing her lover. It was common knowledge among Lela's friends that
she was cheating on her hapless husband. Unhappy Harold just wanted it
to be over.
At long last it was nearing midnight and the party showed signs of
breaking up. Drake called for one more beer and Harold scampered off to
fetch it. When he returned and the big stud held out his hand, the human
bunny offered it to him. Just as Drake appeared to be accepting it,
Harold loosened his grip. But the towering figure didn't take it.
Instead the can fell from Harold's fingers, turning end over end, seeming
to him to be moving in slow motion, and then hit the floor. "Well,"
Drake said. "Now it's took shaken up to drink." Harold apologized
through those difficult teeth, "I'm thorry, Thir. I'm thorry, Dwake."
Lela was suddenly there, telling her spouse, "That's not good enough. I
think I should give you a long hard spanking." Fiona appeared, to add,
"In front of everyone." Then the guy who had feigned sex with Harold
chimed in with, "Because it was Drake's beer, I think Drake should put
him over his knee and redden his sitter." It was what Harold had been
dreading. But now it would be in front of an audience. He looked
desperately from his wife to her Bull but got no sympathy. Lela and
Fiona grabbed the frightened man, opened the back of his costume, and got
it down below his waist, so that most of him was exposed.
Drake sat on a wooden ladder-backed chair and patted his lap. Hampered
by the material gathered around his hairless legs, Harold shuffled
miserably toward him and put himself over his waiting thighs. Everyone
gathered around to watch to event. In no hurry, Drake related to them
all how Lela had chosen him over her weakling husband, how she now got
the sexual satisfaction she deserved, and how all Harold -- who he was
calling Hanna -- was good for was lapping up the big salty deposits of
spunk that Drake deposited into her pussy. While he spoke, all Harold
could do was remain draped across his lap, waiting for the awful
punishment to come. Drake went on to describe some of the other female
clothes they had made Harold wear. And then it happened. Drake smacked
his victim's backside soundly, again and again, until Harold was howling
and sobbing and hot tears ran down his pink cheeks for everyone to
witness. It was the worst disgrace he had suffered since this long
shameful ordeal had begun. Every previous humiliation and punishment
faded into lesser significance as Drake got him wailing and kept at it
for another twenty buttock-blazing spanks. And then he unceremoniously
rolled Harold off his thighs and dumped him onto the carpet in a heap.
As the prestige-bereft husband gazed upward he saw his wife go to her
bedmate and let him give her a deep kiss. Drake's hands cupped her
attractive rear end and held onto it. The room erupted in spontaneous
applause.
******
Three days later it was Christmas. Lela got some fantastic gifts from
Drake, who had more money than Harold could ever have dreamed of
possessing. She gave her love plenty of presents that were selected to
appeal to his manly tastes. The cuckold, wearing a peach colored see-
through baby doll nighty, sans panties, could only watch their happy
exchange. They both had gifts for Harold as well, including plenty of
female clothing, several nice new instruments of punishment, and a tight
little chastity cage to put over his immature penis, which his wife was
delighted to lock on him. Drake had given her a glittering sliver chain
with nothing on it. Harold now saw what the purpose of that gift was as
she ran the chain through the key of his chastity and Drake fastened it
around her shapely neck. The key nestled in the cleavage between her
heavy breasts, where Harold would see it every time he snuck a peek at
that wonderful bust which he wasn't allowed to touch, let alone put his
mouth on the way he had seen her lover do so many times. The cuckold
looked at them questioningly. His wife snorted derisively and asked,
"Are you wondering how long it will be before I take that chastity off
you and maybe let you play with your silly useless tiny dick, and perhaps
even let you squirt while we watch and make fun of you?" He meekly dared
to say, in a small voice, "Yes, dearest." She told him, "Well, how
about, if you're a good girl, Hanna, I consider removing it on New Year's
Eve?" He whispered gratefully, "Thank you, Lela. Thank you so much."
She licked her generous lips and said, "I hope you don't think I mean
THIS New Year's Eve. I meant the NEXT one, twelve months and one week
from now."
Hearing that, he was so staggered that he sank to his knees, clutching
the metal cage and weeping uncontrollably. His wife was wildly aroused
by what she had done to her pansy of a husband. She took hold of Drake's
solid biceps and and pleaded, "Please, lover, I want you to screw me
right now. On the floor. While Hanna watches." He told her, "No
problem, baby. As long as he has to slurp you all clean after I load
your pussy up with my jizz." And that's what they did.
THE END
Eisley
- 15.10.2021
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