Message-ID: <11563eli$9805271522@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/11563.txt>
From: cwcobblest@aol.com (Cwcobblest)
Subject: Hubby Humiliation Bonanza: "Their World," part two
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-Id: <1998052402375800.WAA09247@ladder03.news.aol.com>

"Fourth Down," part two (MmF, wimp husband)
by c.w. cobblestone

Okay, so now everything was out in the open. Now what?

Well, it didn't take long to find out. Now that Alicia had clued me in about
her affair with Marcus, the whole dynamics of our marriage changed. When it
finally dawned on her that I was too pussywhipped to object to her extramarital
activities, something snapped in her.

The power started to go to her head. She now owned me, body and soul - and we
both knew it.

I can't say I was happy about the way things turned out, but I knew there was
no turning back now. Now that Alicia had tasted the thrill of victory, there
was no way she was going to go back to the old way of doing things. She always
did wear the pants in this marriage, but now it was a whole new ballgame!

As I said, everything changed. She began talking "down" to me all the time. I
felt like she had absolutely no respect for me whatsoever anymore.

I guess I can't blame her. If I were in her shoes...

I still held out hope that I might spend a little time with my wife during her
vacation. But it didn't work out that way; she spent every night with Marcus.

Thursday night, it was the same thing all over again. I found myself once again
sitting in an empty house, watching television and trying not to think about my
wife and the football player.

Around midnight, I heard the key in the door. She was home! I sighed with
relief; maybe I would finally get to spend a few minutes alone with my wife
tonight.

All those ideas went out the window as soon as I spotted the huge black man
following her into the house. 

Marcus! 

How dare she? It wasn't bad enough that Alicia had been screwing this guy for
months, right under my nose - now she had the nerve to actually bring him into
our home!

I was caught totally by surprise. As they walked toward me, hand-in-hand, I
just sat there with a stupid look on my face.

My smiling wife gestured to me. "Marcus, I'd like you to meet my hubby," she
said. "Peter, say hello to Marcus Jackson."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, and every ounce of pride went down with it.
"H-hello, Mr. Jackson," I stammered. "P-pleased to meet you. I-I'm a big fan." 

I couldn't believe I was being so polite to the man who was balling my wife! 

Marcus didn't say anything to me; he just shook his head and looked over at
Alicia. "I guess you weren't bullshitting, were you, 'Lisha?" he chuckled. "He
really doesn't mind about us, does he?"

"Oh, Peter's a wimp," Alicia said dismissively. "I don't give a shit whether he
minds or not; I do whatever I want around here!"

Marcus looked at Alicia, impressed. "Well, baby, I can see that! You've got
that son-of-a-bitch trained like a circus seal!"

"Oh, sure. I could make him do tricks if you want me to!" my wife said,
laughing.

"Naw, I ain't into all that shit," Marcus replied, waving his hand at me. He
regarded me suspiciously for a moment. "Hey, wait a minute," he suddenly said.
"This guy ain't one of those freaks who likes to watch other people fuck his
wife, is he?"

"Oh, he's a freak, all right," Alicia bantered back. "But I don't think he
likes the fact that we're doing the wild thing." She looked at me and pouted,
tracing an imaginary tear down her cheek with her fingernail. "He says it makes
him saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad," she sang. "Does it make you sad, Peter?"

I tried my best not to cry, but my eyes were starting to get wet. "Yes, it
makes me very sad," I whispered. My voice was so cracked, I doubt if they could
even hear me. But they got the message.

They both stared at me for a minute, waiting to see if I would cry. I held out
for as long as I could, but finally I broke down. And that was exactly what
Alicia was waiting for.

"Look at him," she said to Marcus. "Have you ever seen anything so pathetic?"

She reached down and slapped me hard across the face three times - once for
each syllable - as she repeated the word: "Pa-the-tic!"

SLLLAPPP! My head snapped back as my wife gave me another hard slap across the
chops for good measure. I fell onto the floor in a heap. 

I tried to get up, but I didn't have the strength. So I just laid on the carpet
bawling.

Marcus looked at Alicia, surprised. "Damn, woman, you CRUEL! You must really
get off on this shit, huh?"

Alicia narrowed her eyes. "You're goddamn right I get off on it! Do you realize
who powerful this makes me feel? I mean, look at him! He's my slave, Marcus. I
can do any fucking thing I want, and this little wimp won't do a damn thing
about it."

My wife's excitement was starting to rub off on Marcus. He thought about the
situation for a minute, and then a slow smile started to form across his
chisled face.

"Well, I gotta admit..." Marcus mused, "...to see him sitting there on the
floor like a fool... crying like a little bitch...I guess it is kind of a
turn-on."

"Well, then, what are we waitin' for?" Alicia sauntered over to Marcus and
wiggled into his lap. She draped her arm around his enormous shoulder and
looked up at me.

"Oh, Peter dear, would you be a peach and run and get us a couple drinks?" she
asked in a sugary-sweet voice. "I'll take a scotch on the rocks. Would you like
a drink, honey-bun?"

Marcus held up his hand. "Naw, I never drink before a game. How about a glass
of OJ?"

My wife snapped her fingers. "You heard the man, Peter. Run along!"

When I returned to the living room with their drinks, they were sprawled out on
the couch, making out passionately. I stood there like a dummy, holding their
drinks while they rolled around on the sofa. I felt like a damn fool.

Suddenly, Marcus broke their embrace. He leaned forward and took his drink,
then gave Alicia hers. After he took a long swig, he wiped his mouth and turned
to my wife.

"Look, Alicia, I know this is your thing and all, but I just can't get next to
having your nosy, freaky-ass husband standing around watching us," Marcus said.
"I don't like an audience - I get enough of that every Sunday!"

Alicia was quick to answer: "Oh, sure, no problem, honey. You want him gone -
he's gone!" She threw me an icy stare. "Goodbye, Peter. You're gone!"

I started to acknowledge her order, but she cut me off. "I can't hear a word
you're saying, asshole! How can you be talking when you're supposed to be gone?
Get the fuck outta here! You're gone! GO!"

As I turned to leave, I heard Marcus chuckle behind me. "Damn, Alicia, does he
do windows, too?"


THE END


-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>