Downward Spiral of Jim

By Douglas Marx

Published on Feb 3, 2023

Gay

Disclaimer: This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers. By getting this far into nifty.org, the reader acknowledges his/her legal right to be here. The reader will hold nifty and/or the author harmless.

Warning: This erotic fiction contains sexual experiences between fictional adult males. If this is not your thing, leave now. Furthermore, any similarity to any person, place or thing living or dead is merely coincidental.

There is no safe sex in this story because it is fiction. Remember: In real life, play as safe as possible preferably no exchange of bodily fluids.

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Growing Up Naked http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/growing-up-naked/ Naked Whore http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/naked-whore Put Out to Pasture http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/put-out-to-pasture Santa's Slave Training http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/santas-slave-training Special Product Design http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/special-product-design The Trunk http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-trunk


Story codes: M, MM, bd, sm, exhib

The Downward Spiral of Jim – Chapter Ten

A few days later, the cop told me at breakfast that I was to be a city hall at 1:30 PM for our second wedding. He made it very clear that there was to be no mention of the fact that we were already married. He told me to wear a nice polo, kakis and dress shoes. I was to look my conservative best. He said the only person that would be at this ceremony that was at the first one would be Rick his best man and best friend.

I got a bit of a lump in my throat. I had been thinking about my time with Rick a lot to the point that I felt that I may have feelings for him.

"You are to be on your best behavior fag. This is an important event. It shows that I am committed to you and to my career. It also shows that I am not just helping you out by marrying you so you can get benefits like someone who marries to become a citizen. There will also be a reception afterwards. Intelligent, polite conversation with everyone and thank every single person for coming. Don't fuck this up, asshole." The cop got up from the table and walked out the front door to work.

"Dearly Beloved, We are gathered here today to join this man and this man in holy..."

Shit, here I am again. There was no need to scream out an objection this time, as I was already married. This was just a formality to look good for everyone.

"...I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss your groom." Even with that statement, it was obvious who everyone thought the man was in the family. It was very emasculating, but no time to quibble because the next thing that happened shocked me into being the good wife that I am. The cop kissed me. He kissed me in front of all his co-workers and friends. He kissed me deep and hard with tongue. He held me so tight I thought I would burst. Naturally, I cried and when it was over everyone stood and applauded. We walked by everyone shaking hands and we all headed over to the Marriott (yes, THE Marriott) for a lovely reception. Now this was my idea of a wedding and the cop pulled it off without a hitch. No matter how much of a jerk he could be, he did, in fact, love me and care for me deeply. Maybe I could end up doing the same someday.

We stayed overnight in a suite. We had a candlelight dinner in the room. He ordered two studly men to give us professional massages. The men were naked for the massage making it obvious to us that they wanted to play afterwards. The cop was professional, paid them and they left with a disappointed look on their faces. After they departed, he took me by the hand and walked me into the bedroom.

He pushed me down on the bed face first, ass over the side. The cop loved this position. He spit in my hole, lubed it up and slammed his prick in my cunt.

"Yeah, queer bate. This is your reminder that you are my fucking fag whore. You are my fuck hole. My ass wipe. You are a true cunt. Your body is made for the purpose of being my sex slave. You are here to receive my man juice. You used to be an up and coming executive and look at you now. You are nothing but a fucking whore pig. You are a slave to a superior man. Yeah I like using your cunt. You know what you are good for faggot. You are a cum dump, a slutty queer, a ... " and with that he shot a huge load in my hole.

Then he turned me over, whipped my body around and laid me across his lap. "Suck on my tit boy and jack yourself off." The cop commanded. Oh my god, it was the first time that I had been given permission to suck his nipples or jack off. Those stunningly gorgeous man nipples he had kept from me all this time. I gulped them. It was unbelievable. I was so excited that he let me touch him that I shot in short order.

"Good boy. Did you like that?"

"Yes Sir."

"Let's go to sleep." For the first time ever, we slept together in the same bed. I had not slept in a real bed in years. He draped himself over me and fell asleep in a minute. I did too. I was getting good at not taking any of this too personally. The cop was always going to fuck with my head. I might as well get used to it.

In the morning, we got up, showered, dressed and had breakfast in the room. We checked out and went by the police department. The cop got me registered as his husband including getting an insurance card and survivor forms. It was official, we were married, I was his husband (wife) and I was a beneficiary of his work benefits. I was grateful for that. Then we went home. I berated myself for still thinking, "And, that must have been my honeymoon." How I got into this was I always wanted more. I could see why I was a faggot.

Speaking of more, I spent a lot of my spare time thinking about Rick. We would see him at the gym or at social gatherings. Rick always flirted with me. It made me very uncomfortable because I didn't want to piss of the cop. I started to develop an obsession for Rick. When I masturbated, I dreamed of making love to Rick the way we did on my wedding day. Rick was the opposite of the cop in bed. He was loving, kind, considerate. I was very attracted to him. He was butch. There is no better word to describe him. He was the kind of man that nobody would figure was gay. He was strong as an ox. He was a grunter at the gym. His huge hands would grab pieces of equipment and fling them around like a feather. His arms were as big as my thighs. It would take two of my forearms to match his one. The man was a monster. Rick exuded sexuality. I watched him. Guys and gals would fawn over him, even though he was not your typical attractive man. He had that certain something. He could get anyone he wanted.

Rick and the cop used to hang out together as friends a lot before the cop and I were married. They went to games together. They would go to one of the local watering holes for a beer. They would go out to lunch or dinner, never inviting me. The cop would not include me in any of it. I would sit home alone. I believe it was the cop's way of reminding me that I was only to serve him. I didn't get to have friends. I didn't get to have a life other than the one centered around the cop.

About a month after we got married, the cop called me and told me that Rick and he were coming home for dinner. "And, it better be fucking good faggot!"

This sent me into a tizzy. I raced off to the store because I knew that if Rick were coming we would need a lot of food. I fretted about all afternoon in the kitchen making sure that there was enough and that it was delicious. I was also agonizing about how I would react to Rick being in the house. I didn't want to be overly flirty or get caught making furtive glances at him.

The cop got home. I heard him go into his room to change clothes not bothering to say hi or yell that he was home. I continued my work in the kitchen when the cop came in. He was naked. Now the cop was naked most of the time when he was home and, of course, I always was. I figured he would dress for having company.

"So faggot. It smells good. It had better be. Did you make a lot? Rick is a big eater you know."

"Yes Sir. I made a lot of food. Sir, are you going to be naked?"

"Yeah faggot. What of it?"

"Nothing Sir. I'm just surprised that you are going to be naked with your friend coming over."

The cop walked over to me taking hold of my jaw forcing me to look in his eyes and said, "Yeah, I'm going to be naked and so is Rick." The evil smile he had on his face made me realize he was up to something.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Go get it faggot. Take Rick into the living room. Ask him what he wants to drink and take his clothes to the guest room."

"Yes, Sir."

I went to the front door opening it to find my big, hairy muscle stud with a huge smile on his face.

"Hi Rick. Come in." I welcomed.

"Hey Jim, it's nice to see you." Rick walked in and planted a big kiss on my lips. I immediately got hard. He grabbed my cock and said, "I see you haven't forgotten me."

I bowed my head in shame and said, "No Sir. I haven't forgotten you."

"Good."

I led him into the living room and asked him what he wanted to drink. Naturally, he wanted a beer. I went into the kitchen. The cop was sitting at the table watching me. I was still half hard and I could see that he was amused by my predicament. I went back to the living room where a naked Rick now greeted me.

My God, he was huge. There was not an ounce of flab on him. He had a ball belly but it was solid as a rock. He was a power lifter type like on that world's strongest man contest on ESPN. Yes, I'm the stay-at-home housewife who masturbates to those daytime shows. Real girl housewives stick dildos up their twats to the soap opera shirtless hunks. I jerk-n-jizz to weightlifting and wrestling reruns.

Rick gave me a big smile particularly because my dick was still being inappropriate with our guest. I handed Rick his beer and dutifully took his clothes to the guest room. When I walked back through on my way to the kitchen, the cop and Rick were sitting down chatting. "Get dinner on the table faggot, we're starving."

"Yes Sir." I didn't look their way. This was going to be too much.

I set a lovely table as always. I had become a slave whore Julia Child. My culinary skills were excellent. I would have a better career than the bathhouse option if the cop ever kicked me out. I could now be a cook or even a chef with some more practice.

The conversation was light and fun. I tried desperately to not spend too much time looking at Rick's body. When the dinner was over, the cop thanked me before sending me off to the kitchen to clean up.

When I was done, I went back to the living room. Rick and the cop were watching baseball. They were talking about sports; a topic I was clueless. I laughed a little to myself about seeing these two butch gay studs talk sports while the little woman slave worked in the kitchen.

"Sir, do you need anything? May I be with you or would you like me to go back to the kitchen?"

"Get us a couple of beers, faggot, then make yourself scarce." The cop ordered.

Rick objected, "Aw, come on. Let him stay. He's not bothering us."

The cop relented, "Ok, you can come back. But no beer or liquor for you. And, you have to sit on the floor and keep your mouth shut."

I returned with the beers and sat on the floor. I watched the television but I didn't understand what was going on. Rick and the cop were bantering back and forth about the game, the players, and the teams. It sounded like they knew their shit. My mind started to wander regarding the two naked men in the room both of whom I had the hots for. Needless to say, my dick started and didn't stop until it was rock hard.

The cop chided, "Hey Rick, it looks like my slave is getting off on something in his head. Maybe he thinks the ballplayers are hot. He certainly isn't hard thinking about the game. He is a true faggot; doesn't understand sports at all. Well, maybe watersports."

Rick laughed. "You are so mean to Jim. Lighten up on him. He's a cute boy."

The cop responded. "Yeah, but with a slave you give them an inch and they will take a mile. He is very undisciplined."

Now, the cop knew that wasn't true, but he had to show his superiority. I was very disciplined. I worked hard at making sure everything was perfect for my husband and Master. He knew it, but he wasn't about to give me any satisfaction in front of company. Hell, he hardly did that when we were alone.

I decided to ignore both of them and concentrate on the television. It was true, I didn't understand what was going on, but it was better than listening to the cop put me down in front of his friend.

It wasn't long after that I heard Rick say, "Ok, buddy. I have to go home. Thanks for the nice evening."

The cop said to me, "Fag, get your ass up and get Rick's clothes for him."

I jumped to my feet and went after Rick's clothes. I brought them out. Rick smiled at me while he put them on. The cop stayed seated. "Thanks Rick for coming," the cop said. "The fag will see you out."

"Ok buddy."

We walked to the front door. Rick gave me a big embrace and a kiss saying, "Jim, thanks for a great evening. You're one hell-of-a-cook."

"Thank you, Rick." I was very uncomfortable with Rick's embrace and attempted to minimize it with my body language, but he was having none of it. Rick grabbed me and held me very tight kissing me deeper. My cock got hard again.

"Rick, I think we should stop."

"Ok, Jim. Have a good night and thanks again." Rick said goodbye with a playful slap across my ass. I shut the door and fell back onto it as in a movie. Rick could swoon a fellow all right. Wow, was he such a man.

I walked back to the living room and the cop. He saw my hard on. There was no denying it. Rick had turned me on. "Get on your knees, cunt, and suck me off." The cop ordered.

I fell to the floor in shame. The cop had me by the balls. He was up to something. I couldn't figure it out. Why did this evening happen? He was fucking with my head again. I had to contemplate all that later as the cop impaled my mouth with his massive tool. I opened wide for full service to my husband.

"Yeah cocksucker. Suck me. Make love to your husband's man tool. That's it wifey. That's it. Service me. That's what a cunt is for. Servicing her husband's dick. Open wide bitch. Take me fucker. You remember your place cunt? Your place is right here servicing me. You are my whore bitch cocksucking queer boy. Don't you fucking forget it. I saw those sly glances at my friend. My bitch wants to be fucked by her husband's best friend, doesn't she? Oh yeah. I can see it now. My wife sneaking around behind my back. She wants to get her pussy stretched by her husband's friend. What a fucking soap opera that is! God, you would think we lived in the fucking suburbs."

By now, I was crying. Not because of choking on the cop's prick opening my gullet. I was crying because of what he was saying to me. Damn, he could be so cruel sometimes.

The cop saw the tears. "Oh, I struck a nerve, didn't I wifey? Yeah. I'm right. You want his cock. You want to make love to his body. You want him to run his big manly paws all over you and make you feel whole. Fucking bitch. Doesn't know when she's got it good. Always wants something more. Oh, yeah bitch. You're doing good here. Take my prick cocksucker. Know your place. Your place is servicing me. Your place is serving me."

My god. The cop was getting off putting me down for my desires to have sex with his friend. He was going to cum talking about what a slut whore I am. Fuck, he was one sick motherfucker, but what-a-minute, I'm the sick motherfucker married to him. I have no place to complain.

"That's right bitch. Love to walk in on the two of you. Wouldn't that be fun? I can see the headlines now `Husband goes into jealous rage catching his husband with best friend.' Fodder for the tabloids. Oh, yeah. Take me bitch. Take my cock. Suck me off while you think about my friend Rick's big, thick beer can inside you. You want his cum so bad. I knew I married a whore. I knew you wouldn't change. Not even for me. Oh yeah. Oh yeah. I married a whore; a fucking sleazy, cocksucking whore. That's right asshole. Suck me. Take my load. Take my hot cream. Dream of Rick as you take my cream. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!"

The cop sprayed my throat with his wonderful man juice. I made love to his cock probably better than I ever had before. I was scared not to. I wanted him to know that I was still his husband and slave regardless of my attraction to Rick. His cum was delicious to me. Fuck. I was getting off on this perverted scene as much as he was. Jesus, we were sick.

I finally let go of his dick. I looked into his eyes with tears streaming down my face. The cop said, "Listen, asshole. I get it. You don't need to cry. I'm not hurt or even mad. I just want to fuck with you. I loved getting off taking you down a peg. Nothing makes me hotter. Haven't you fucking figured that out yet?"

The cop slapped me lightly across the face and said, "Come on faggot, time for bed."

I cried myself to sleep in my doggy bed.


I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I appreciate hearing from you guys. I attempt to respond to each email within two days. Many times our conversations shape the upcoming storyline. Thank you.

Please send any comments to: douglas.marx.4@gmail.com

Next: Chapter 11


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