My Wife the Womanizer

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“You did this on purpose?” Stacy cupped my face in her hands then turned to Amanda. “Made him look like me. What on earth would you do that for?”

“He wanted you. I simply gave him what he wanted, didn’t I, slut?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You let her do this to you?” Stacy asked; her face incredulous.

“Yes,” I admitted, repeating my mantra, happy eager submissive bimbo, in my head. It was true. I had let her do it to me. Had even asked for some of it, thinking it would be something else. But now I couldn’t explain to her that I’d been tricked. No that would certainly be against the rules. Eager- yes, I had to be eager. I couldn’t tell her that Amanda had found out about us, found out that I intended to leave her to live with Stacy, just as we’d agreed. That I’d had no warning. That one day Amanda merely mentioned that I was getting a little fat around my middle and under my chin.

“You should let me take care of that for you,” she’d said.

It sounded good at first. It would make me more attractive to Stacy and it would be my last opportunity to have it done for free. I should have known better. I should have suspected, but I was greedy and I agreed. Told everyone I was going on an extended vacation, just like my wife suggested. Just like all the stars did it.

It didn’t work out like I had planned. Not by a long shot.

When I woke up, my wife greeted me with tears. Crocodile tears. “There’s been a terrible mistake, but don’t worry. I’m the best at what I do. I’ll have you back in shape before you know it.”

I kissed her. I felt guilty for cheating on her. Can you believe it? Felt ashamed for falling in love with another woman. So I consented to other ‘corrective’ operations. I needed to at that point. Would Stacy want some mangled leper of a man? No, I was sure she wouldn’t. There were many other operations, and I never guessed the truth about them. Not until I was home and the bandages were removed.

The first thing I noticed was breasts. Nice perky beautiful womanly breasts. Breasts that belonged on a woman, not a man. I tried to scream but my wife easily gagged me. I tried to fight back, but she easily overpowered me. It was then I discovered I was weaker than before. What has she done to me?

She took out a mirror and showed me the rest of her work. God, it was horrible. My body was beautiful, but it was the body of my mistress and not my own. I feared for the loss of my cock, the rest could be fixed one way or another. But it was there, thank the Lord it was down there safe and sound.

My cock was still down there, but there was a problem. There was some sort of ring locked around it. A KTB she told me. I learned later that KTB is short for Kali’s Teeth Bracelet, a small tube that fits around your cock. It’s the teeth part that gets you. When you get aroused, your cock expands . . . and comes into contact with sharp pointy spikes.

Did you know that you get hard in your sleep? I’m sure you do. Now, try to imagine waking up to sharp objects sticking into your cock. Imagine for a moment being teased by your wife and forced to think of other things to avoid being aroused. Here let me help you out. Don’t think of a pussy. See what I mean? It was horrible torture. A thousand times I wanted to leave, but my wife had insisted she would change me back once I learned my lesson. Learned what it was like to be used.

It was then that I found out that my body wasn’t all she wanted to change. Once that was complete, she wanted more.

“Stacy, if you want me to take Kali off tonight, maybe you could do one little thing for me. . .”

I hated her calling me Stacy. It dehumanized me. Turned me into the object of her vengeance.

“I really like the idea of Stacy being my maid,” my wife said. “But, I think I would like to see her have a better attitude about things. I think a pretty smile and a nice curtsy when she sees me would be nice.”

“Yes dear,” I answered.

“Ahem. . .” she said. “Forgetting something?”

“Yes dear,” I curtsied.

“Lower, and remember to smile now. Nice and pretty. Eager Stacy, think Eager.”

“Yes, dear.” I tried again. I wanted to crawl under the table. It was humiliating enough to be forced into a maid’s uniform. But this, this was sheer and utter degradation.

“And you should call me Mistress from now on. I don’t take kindly to familiarity with the help.”

I bit my lip to keep from saying something in anger. This was intolerable.

“I guess we should leave you and Kali alone to think on it tonight,” she smiled.

“No, please don’t,” I said. Quickly adding, “Mistress.” And plastering a fake smile on my face, squatting down low, and lifting the hem of my short skirt high.

“Yes, think on that tonight Stacy,” Mistress said. “In the morning, I intend to give you much more to think about. But meanwhile, since you want to be so familiar with me.” She lifted her skirt and slipped down her panties. “Here’s something for you to become familiar with. Give me a kiss .”

I did, reluctantly and resentfully. I had to, I realized, in order to get rid of that awful KTB. But the next morning I was in so much in pain from it and so angry that I was unable to keep up any pretense that I was her dutiful maid. I was still threatening her when I was grabbed from behind and held rigid.

“You still need some adjustments in your attitude I’m afraid,” Amanda said, coming toward me with one more hypodermic needle of the many I’d seen in the past months. “You’ll be much happier when you return from where I’m sending you now to be trained. These men will see that you arrive safely, and this injection will assure that you go peaceably.

I went peaceably, asleep. I don’t even want to think about that place. There were four women and eight men there, and they gave me their undivided attention. I learned a very important lesson. My Mistress was strict and she could be cruel, but she was only one person. They had used me almost constantly in one fashion or another. They had broken whatever fight remained in me. And now I’d been back for weeks.

Thankfully the KTB was gone, but to get rid of it, I gave up so much. I became the ideal maid. I became a bimbo. In my former life, I had used women for sex. Now, I was the one who was used. Once, a woman had been simply a tight hole or eager mouth for my cock. Now I was more a lesbian slave than a man. My mouth was what gave my wife pleasure. When I fucked her, it wasn’t with my cock but with a dildo. Worst of all was when she occasionally brought over male lovers and I had to get them ready for her. Watched while they came inside her while I was locked into my own prison of steel. It was so unfair.

But, as I was saying, thankfully the KTB was gone. In its place I wore a simple curved tube. I still wasn’t allowed the use of my cock. She said I first had to get my mind right and Stacy didn’t have a cock, did she? I was her substitute Stacy to exact her revenge on.

There was only one thing that puzzled me. Stacy was here right now and my wife seemed so civil – so pleasant. But she could be tricky. I knew that very well. Poor Stacy had no clue who she was dealing with.

“Here’s her key. Take it if you want her.” Amanda told Stacy.

Key? My mind focused instantly on what was being said.

“Want her?” Stacy replied.

“YES, DO YOU WANT HER?” Amanda said, as if talking to an idiot. “She’s eager, she’s obedient, and she’s extremely submissive. Her tongue is pierced and she’s a first-class pussy licker who doesn’t even care if you’re having your monthly visitor if you know what I mean. You’ve seen the way she worships my ass. She’ll do anything. She’s also an excellent maid. The most submissive you’ll ever have. And if you ever take a male lover, she’ll happily get him ready for you, suck him to hardness – even put him in[to you. Afterwards, if your lover didn’t quite please you, well, Stacy will be quite happy to finish you off with her mouth. You’ll never have to clean up a drop of disgusting male cum again. Not unless you want to.”

Amanda jingled the key. “Go on, take the key and she’s yours.”

I wanted so much to reach up and grab the key. I had tried before. The first time got me sent away. I never tried again.

I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed Stacy’s sandals. Kissed her little painted toes. Tried to kiss my way up her legs and in between her thighs, to show her I could please her. Please take me away from this place, I begged with my eyes. Please take me away from this cruel mean woman.

Amanda continued: “All you’ve got to do is promise to *keep* her. I’m going to check up on you every now and then and I don’t think you will like what happens if I find out you’ve let my Stacy go. I expect to find her just as you see her now.”

“Ah. . .” Stacy said, looking at the dangling key, but not touching it.

Please take it. Please take it. Amanda pushed my boyfriend up into my pussy again. Stop it! It’s your ass, not your pussy, I reminded myself. Get yourself together before Stacy leaves.

You’re a man. You used to be her lover. It’s now or never. I summoned up what remained of my pride and courage, risking my Mistress’s wrath. “Please Miss Stacy,” I begged.

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