THE BLACK SCEPTRE
by Anonymous

Fellow cuckold,

If you expect to hear tales of black studs sporting fourteen inch
cocks you will be disappointed. This is not one of those tales. This
is about something closer to the way things really are. Not that
indulging in outlandish fantasy is a bad thing, on the contrary! But
let's face it, even the record books cannot match the measurements
you often see in some stories, and the situations are beyond the
realms of even the most convenient series of coincidences.

None of that here. Here we are dealing with the reality of the sweet
obsession of cuckoldry as it happened to two nice and real people,
your average next door people.

As it often happens to people who are together for some years, A and
N had formed a relationship that was ticking over on autopilot.
Routine more than real contact was the way they dealt with each
other. And then one day it happened, The Conversation. It sprang out
of a sense of frustration N felt with their routine, and she began
to reminisce about a past lover she had before she met A. A had
heard her speak of him before, they met soon after her breakup with
him, she had mentioned a name and not much more.

This was different. She said how other women were envious of her
being with him because "he was so sexy". How she felt dominated by
him and yet she liked it, how they did exciting things together.

The setting and the mood helped in the conversation. It was after a
late dinner, they had drunk some wine and the only light coming into
the dining room was from the kitchen. The phone did not ring. A and
N were focused on what was being said in that small dining room.

"You find our sex life boring?" A asked her.

"Most of the time it is fine, you are a good lover. I sometimes miss
that something else." She said.

"I assume that W is well endowed......" A said and she cut him off.

"Well yes, but so are you, it is just that....., she was forcing
herself to spit it out, sometimes we got a bit kinky, and we don't
do that together..... you know sometimes it is exciting to do
something a little dirty, a little daring...." she was a little less
forced now.

"I know what you mean, it's just that I kind of can't let go and say
and do things that might shock you, I feel I might regret it after
or feel guilty or something........" A was straining too. They were
both tense.

"I won't criticize you.... you know that..." N protested. She was
flushed. "What have you wanted to tell me that you think I might
find shocking?" she then asked curious and prying.

"My thoughts and fantasies, and questions that crop up now and
again." A said and then went quiet.

"What have you wanted to ask me and wouldn't?" She asked even more
curious now.

"Well right now I want to ask you about you and W, but I am so
embarrassed." A was almost stuttering now. She sensed his
excitement. He wanted to hear about her and W, the graphic details
of her and another man. It was a kinky and illicit thought and it
excited her. In the darkness their eyes  glinted with anticipation.
A refilled their glasses, the scene was set. N began to recount
graphically how she and W fucked. She started with mild language and
as she saw the excitement in A build up she injected more four
letter words. Soon she was holding nothing back.

"Sometimes when I was a little dry he would make me grease up his
cock with baby oil. I loved doing that, him standing by the bed and
me rubbing oil over his big thick cock, we would have candles in the
room and it shone so strong and taut in the candlelight, a huge cock
wanting to fuck, then I would lie back and wait for him to push into
my cunt. It was delicious...." she sighed her longing.

A let her talk and savored the excitement of listening to his wife
describe the pleasure she had had from another mans prick, a big
prick, a prick she had received in all kinds of circumstances, a
prick she had had to grease up before it sank into her. He was rock
hard.

"This is the most exciting thing I ever heard" he told her quite
openly. finally he could say it, the vision of her and another cock
was exciting. It was the first opening of the floodgate. From then
the story telling went on to fantasy and more talk.

You reader know the power of the cuckold obsession. It is always
there, sometimes dormant, other times more to the fore, and you know
how it can drive you into a sexual frenzy when both husband and wife
are on the same wave length. And A and N were on the same wave
length and their communication was getting more open all the time.

They would whisper to each other comments about men they saw on the
street. A started to sense her "type" and he would nudge her
knowingly when they saw a muscular man on the street "I bet he could
give you the fucking of your life" he would murmur into her ear. But
they realized that beyond the openness they could not bring
themselves to go further. The closest was a night when a man sidled
up to N at a party and tried to pick her up. He was insistent and
suave and let it be understood that he wanted dirty afternoon
assignations at his apartment. They fucked like maniacs when they
got home and talked about it. They talked about her coming home
freshly fucked by the stranger for A to feel and see her cunt, all
wet and splayed out.

It was a subtle turning point that night. It was when she became
more assertive about her fantasy. She told him of times when she
felt like a dominating bitch who would love to fuck other guys and
make him jealous and horny. He was delirious with excitement. It was
the first time she called him "cuckold" and he liked that more.

It was against this setting that she came up with the idea of a
dildo. Not just the idea of having another, albeit false, prick fuck
her. She had gone beyond that. No, A had to acquire the dildo. She
egged him on.

"Just think what a cuckold trip it will be to go into one of those
sex shops and pick one out, take it to the cash desk and pay for it,
for an nice big prick to fuck me...."

He tried it. He went into one shop and gawked at the huge dildos on
display. He cast furtive glances at the shop manager and the other
shoppers. He sucked in his breath to muster the courage to pick one
up and go to the cash desk. He just could not do it.

But the more he failed at his task the more the idea of the dildo
became an obsession. he thought of many things, ordering by mail
(too convenient and clinical), making one (he was a useless
sculptor), using something else ( too crude). Then he saw it.

It was an old walking cane. The stem was long and shiny black, it
had a silver cap at the thin, the road end. The stem ended in a
silver ferrule and from then on was the handle, a magnificent
symbolic phallus that put the plastic toys of the sex shop to shame.
It was some kind of dark wood, dark brown, gnarled and thick, its
sheen as it lay in the corner of the antique shop reflecting its
alluring power. For the first time since he started his search A
actually visualized the phallus entering his wife's cunt, sluicing
and sliding in her dark snatch. He had to have it.

He negotiated gingerly with the shop owner. He feigned interest in
several things. He got the prices and then decided on three things,
the cane being among them. He got it and left the shop elated,
walking on air. He took his purchases home and went into his small
den to look at them. He felt the handle of the cane. Crowning its
ample length and girt was a swelling of the wood just like a real
cockhead. A felt it all over, it was smooth and warm, like ivory.
During his examination he held it tightly and suddenly the cane came
apart!

A looked dumbfounded as the handle detached itself from the stem. It
was held in place by a clever bayonet fixture. Now he really was
holding a huge dark phallus in his hand. It felt even more powerful
than before, almost magic. He reattached the handle and took the
cane to the bedroom. He hid it in the back of his closet, intending
to surprise N with it when she was in the mood.

The following day at work A thought of the thick heavy prick. He saw
it, vividly like it was happening in front of him, separating her
cunt lips, pushing its way into her. Her ample fleshy lips clinging
to the shaft while that swollen head ploughed into her depths. He
fervently wished that that night N would be in the mood and he that
he would be able to present her with his find.

He reached home and closed the front door gently behind him
intending to have a quick shower before N herself got home. He moved
toward the bedroom to get some fresh clothes. Reaching the bedroom
door he caught his breath. The sight saw was awesome.

N was lying on her back. Her legs were raised and spread out. Her
hands were clasped around the phallus and she was plunging it into
her cunt with slow determined movements. As the head of the phallus
emerged from her cunt she held it there for a second and then she
plunged back in, she moaned with each thrust, she was craving the
penetration that the huge prick was giving her.

She spoke. At first A did not understand her, thinking that she was
mumbling to herself. But she was not. She was talking to him.

"Come see me get really fucked, cuckold!" She taunted him

A entered the bedroom with hesitating steps. He was in a trance.

He stood by the bed and watched as she brought the prick out of her
cunt. It shone with her juice. She ran her hand over it, starting at
the bulbous head. A caught sight of her hand and her wedding rings
glinting in the low light as she stroked the big prick. She then
rubbed the head up and down her hairy crack and she looked at A. As
their eyes locked she began the long stroke in and as the phallus
sank into her she spoke again.

"It feels so good, so smooth and big, it goes in so deep..... look"
she pulled a thigh back for A to see her coupling with the heavy
dark prick. He watched as her lips clung to the shaft on its outward
pull. Her cunt lips opening into a V as the shaft pushed them apart.
As the head nearly exited her cunt it seemed to stretch her even
more, and as it stretched her she moaned her pleasure.

"Big fucker, I love this big fucker. I am going to come while he is
fucking me and you're watching, cuckold..... oh yes I am going to
come....."

She grabbed the phallus with both hands and her hips bucked meeting
her thrusts. The in and out movement quickened until it was blur of
hands, rings, prick and her hairy cunt. She came gasping and
moaning. then she fell back on the bed exhausted.

The sceptre, she called it that, assumed a definite role in the
bedroom. Resting in its corner exuding its power over them always.
It was there every time the mood came over them to play their
fantasy, and at those times when she craved more than A could
provide. A few times she even persuaded A to carry the sceptre on
country walks, smiling at him knowingly when other walkers commented
on his "nice walking stick". "My husband finds it very helpful", she
had said once.

A sometimes mused that the sceptre had magical powers to arouse N.
Then one day he was looking at it more closely and discovered that
the bottom cap unscrewed to reveal a hollow. Rolled up in the hollow
was a piece of paper. A unrolled and read the message "made by and
in the image of W...".

By Anonymous, via the internet, dedicated to all wives and wife
watchers and the power of THE fantasy. Correspondence with others
welcome, write care of DW.

September 1997







