Nicholas's Story
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
6,229
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
6,229
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction about oral & anal sex between men and a boy, starting in infancy. The characters, locations & incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is enti
Chapter 5 - I become a wife
©2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Soon after my eighteenth birthday, Billy drove me to a corner to meet Fred. Fred was one of my regular dates. I knew I made him happy. In the last few months, he had requested me specifically several times. Fred was in his forties, but still physically fit. Handsome in a way. He'd take me to a nice hotel, fuck me all evening and into the morning, order breakfast from room service, then fuck me again before taking me back to meet Billy. I knew he paid Billy well for my company. I always thought Fred was a decent john.
This particular date went according to routine. However, after the breakfast, he kept on fucking me until it was after noon. I said something about Billy being mad if I was late getting back.
Fred laughed. "You're not going back, Nicky. I took care of things. You're going to stay with me now. Isn't that great?"
"Um, I don't understand, Fred."
"Sure you do, Nicky. You're a smart young man. Billy doesn't need you any more, and I do. So we made an arrangement. You're going to live with me now. You're going to be my, let's see, "live-in lover"? "paramour"? "concubine"? hehe. How about "wife"? How does that sound, Nicky. You can be my wife. Come on, get your clothes on, I'll take you home."
We drove all day and through the night. I shared the driving even though I didn't have a license. It was all easy interstate. Finally we arrived in Memphis, where Fred ran an architectural firm with major projects downtown. Fred had a traditional colonial with gardens and a pool out back. I settled in quickly to the wife's role, cooking, baking, washing, cleaning, while Fred was at work, and then in the evening, caressing and snuggling with him. And finally getting fucked before going to bed, and often a few times after.
I met Fred's business associates and other acquaintances. He brought me to parties and seemed to take pride showing off the young stud he'd landed. We made up a story about meeting in a gay bar. He didn't want people to know I'd been a hooker. When Fred gave a party, I made sure I was the perfect hostess. I could shmooze with Moran the artist who once had a show at MOMA as easily as with Mrs. Armbruster who had a collection of gowns for her Barbie Doll worth over $10,000. Some of the outfits were designed by Paris couturiers. Whoever was at the party was made to feel welcome.
After a couple months, Fred joked that he wanted to make an honest woman of me. We were going to have a wedding. We rented out a private hall and invited everyone he knew, gay couples, straight couples, lesbian couples, gay and straight singles, both male and female, and a smattering of TV's and TS's. Fred and I waited in an anteroom during cocktails while the band played and hors d'oeuvres were served. Then the emcee announced the new bride and groom, Fred and Nicky. We walked into the hall. Fred was decked out in a handsome tux with white bow tie and cummerbund. Me? Well, Fred had me wear a short bridal veil and carry a bouquet of red roses. That's all. Just the veil and bouquet. Otherwise, I was butt naked. We walked into the middle of the hall and everyone was laughing. I enjoyed making all his friends happy. Every table had a throwaway camera, so there would be plenty of pictures to remember the evening. The emcee announced our first dance and Fred waltzed me around the floor. Then the other guests joined us on the dance floor. As they passed by us, they began to pinch my buttocks. Dozens of pinches. I knew my ass looked like the red bouquet in my hand. As some of the trannies passed by, I whispered to Fred, "Do you want me to be a woman like them?"
"Hell, no, Nicky Honey. If I'd wanted that, I'd be straight." He grabbed my dick as we danced. "I like a guy who's got one of these, and I want everyone to know you got it. Just because you're my wife doesn't mean you ain't a man!"
"I like the sound of that word, Fred. 'Wife.' Man and wife. Forsaking all others."
"For richer, for poorer."
"For better, for worse."
"'Til death do us part."
It's good we didn't have children. It would be difficult to explain our wedding album. But I was totally happy. I had a man who really loved me, like Daddy had, or so I thought at the time. For eight years, we did everything couples do. Fred bought me expensive suits and jewelry. He took me to concerts and plays. We went on cruises and spent a month at a Spanish villa. I learned about fine wine and fine music. I even earned my GED, and began taking courses at the community college in art history and graphics design.
Fred and I often talked about the future. When he turned fifty, he began to talk of retirement. We discussed the relative advantages of Florida vs. Arizona vs. Hawaii. I was so happy.
One night, I came home from my college art class and walked into the house. I heard voices from the bedroom. I went to look, and there was Fred in bed with a kid about 18. I ran down to the kitchen crying. An hour later, the kid came down the stairs, glanced at me, said "Hi." and then walked out the door. Soon after, Fred came down and began mixing a scotch and soda.
"Who the hell was he?"
"I don't know his name. Just a kid. Sort of cute though, don't you think?"
"So, you've been fucking other guys behind my back, Fred? What about our vows? 'Forsaking all others.'"
"Shit, Nicky, grow up. If I want to have a fling with a guy, that's my business. For all I know, you've probably been getting laid these nights you say you're at class."
"I do not fuck around, Fred. I thought you knew I love you. I've always been faithful. I would never cheat on you."
"Cheating? Come on, Nicky. We're grown men. If you want to fuck other guys, I don't care. It's not like we're really married, you know."
"I want a divorce."
"Oh, that's rich!! We're not married so we can't get divorced."
"Then I'm leaving."
"No, you're not, Nicky. I own you. I paid Billy a lot of money for you. If you want out, you're going to have to buy your body back." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The past eight years had been a lie. The wedding, the talk about retirement, the love nest, all lies. All I was to Fred was a piece of ass he bought. My body had never been my own. It had been sold over and over for 26 years.
In the next few months, Fred continued to use my ass as he pleased. I just couldn't bring myself to show him the love I once felt for him. But I knew he owned my shit hole. I wondered how I could get a job and how long it would take to buy my ass back. Fred often brought toy boys into our house, into our bed, and insisted I watch him fuck them. One in particular, a stud named Zach, came by several times. I noticed he and I were similar in height and build. After I watched Fred fuck Zach, then both of them would take turns fucking me. I began to truly hate the man who I thought was my husband.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Soon after my eighteenth birthday, Billy drove me to a corner to meet Fred. Fred was one of my regular dates. I knew I made him happy. In the last few months, he had requested me specifically several times. Fred was in his forties, but still physically fit. Handsome in a way. He'd take me to a nice hotel, fuck me all evening and into the morning, order breakfast from room service, then fuck me again before taking me back to meet Billy. I knew he paid Billy well for my company. I always thought Fred was a decent john.
This particular date went according to routine. However, after the breakfast, he kept on fucking me until it was after noon. I said something about Billy being mad if I was late getting back.
Fred laughed. "You're not going back, Nicky. I took care of things. You're going to stay with me now. Isn't that great?"
"Um, I don't understand, Fred."
"Sure you do, Nicky. You're a smart young man. Billy doesn't need you any more, and I do. So we made an arrangement. You're going to live with me now. You're going to be my, let's see, "live-in lover"? "paramour"? "concubine"? hehe. How about "wife"? How does that sound, Nicky. You can be my wife. Come on, get your clothes on, I'll take you home."
We drove all day and through the night. I shared the driving even though I didn't have a license. It was all easy interstate. Finally we arrived in Memphis, where Fred ran an architectural firm with major projects downtown. Fred had a traditional colonial with gardens and a pool out back. I settled in quickly to the wife's role, cooking, baking, washing, cleaning, while Fred was at work, and then in the evening, caressing and snuggling with him. And finally getting fucked before going to bed, and often a few times after.
I met Fred's business associates and other acquaintances. He brought me to parties and seemed to take pride showing off the young stud he'd landed. We made up a story about meeting in a gay bar. He didn't want people to know I'd been a hooker. When Fred gave a party, I made sure I was the perfect hostess. I could shmooze with Moran the artist who once had a show at MOMA as easily as with Mrs. Armbruster who had a collection of gowns for her Barbie Doll worth over $10,000. Some of the outfits were designed by Paris couturiers. Whoever was at the party was made to feel welcome.
After a couple months, Fred joked that he wanted to make an honest woman of me. We were going to have a wedding. We rented out a private hall and invited everyone he knew, gay couples, straight couples, lesbian couples, gay and straight singles, both male and female, and a smattering of TV's and TS's. Fred and I waited in an anteroom during cocktails while the band played and hors d'oeuvres were served. Then the emcee announced the new bride and groom, Fred and Nicky. We walked into the hall. Fred was decked out in a handsome tux with white bow tie and cummerbund. Me? Well, Fred had me wear a short bridal veil and carry a bouquet of red roses. That's all. Just the veil and bouquet. Otherwise, I was butt naked. We walked into the middle of the hall and everyone was laughing. I enjoyed making all his friends happy. Every table had a throwaway camera, so there would be plenty of pictures to remember the evening. The emcee announced our first dance and Fred waltzed me around the floor. Then the other guests joined us on the dance floor. As they passed by us, they began to pinch my buttocks. Dozens of pinches. I knew my ass looked like the red bouquet in my hand. As some of the trannies passed by, I whispered to Fred, "Do you want me to be a woman like them?"
"Hell, no, Nicky Honey. If I'd wanted that, I'd be straight." He grabbed my dick as we danced. "I like a guy who's got one of these, and I want everyone to know you got it. Just because you're my wife doesn't mean you ain't a man!"
"I like the sound of that word, Fred. 'Wife.' Man and wife. Forsaking all others."
"For richer, for poorer."
"For better, for worse."
"'Til death do us part."
It's good we didn't have children. It would be difficult to explain our wedding album. But I was totally happy. I had a man who really loved me, like Daddy had, or so I thought at the time. For eight years, we did everything couples do. Fred bought me expensive suits and jewelry. He took me to concerts and plays. We went on cruises and spent a month at a Spanish villa. I learned about fine wine and fine music. I even earned my GED, and began taking courses at the community college in art history and graphics design.
Fred and I often talked about the future. When he turned fifty, he began to talk of retirement. We discussed the relative advantages of Florida vs. Arizona vs. Hawaii. I was so happy.
One night, I came home from my college art class and walked into the house. I heard voices from the bedroom. I went to look, and there was Fred in bed with a kid about 18. I ran down to the kitchen crying. An hour later, the kid came down the stairs, glanced at me, said "Hi." and then walked out the door. Soon after, Fred came down and began mixing a scotch and soda.
"Who the hell was he?"
"I don't know his name. Just a kid. Sort of cute though, don't you think?"
"So, you've been fucking other guys behind my back, Fred? What about our vows? 'Forsaking all others.'"
"Shit, Nicky, grow up. If I want to have a fling with a guy, that's my business. For all I know, you've probably been getting laid these nights you say you're at class."
"I do not fuck around, Fred. I thought you knew I love you. I've always been faithful. I would never cheat on you."
"Cheating? Come on, Nicky. We're grown men. If you want to fuck other guys, I don't care. It's not like we're really married, you know."
"I want a divorce."
"Oh, that's rich!! We're not married so we can't get divorced."
"Then I'm leaving."
"No, you're not, Nicky. I own you. I paid Billy a lot of money for you. If you want out, you're going to have to buy your body back." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The past eight years had been a lie. The wedding, the talk about retirement, the love nest, all lies. All I was to Fred was a piece of ass he bought. My body had never been my own. It had been sold over and over for 26 years.
In the next few months, Fred continued to use my ass as he pleased. I just couldn't bring myself to show him the love I once felt for him. But I knew he owned my shit hole. I wondered how I could get a job and how long it would take to buy my ass back. Fred often brought toy boys into our house, into our bed, and insisted I watch him fuck them. One in particular, a stud named Zach, came by several times. I noticed he and I were similar in height and build. After I watched Fred fuck Zach, then both of them would take turns fucking me. I began to truly hate the man who I thought was my husband.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.