Hotel Humiliation For Cuckold Husband Part 2 (Patreon)

     John nervously approached the reception area, his heels clicking loudly on the polished floor, echoing his trepidation. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and his heart raced in his chest.

      Dressed in a skimpy sissy maid outfit, every inch of his face and makeup adorned with evidence of his recent submissive ordeal. Cum streaks adorned his cheeks and lips, marking him unmistakably as a willing participant in his wife's newfound desires.

      The receptionist, barely able to contain her laughter had a mischievous glint in her eyes. She regarded him with a mix of amusement and curiosity. She leaned in closer, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down John's spine. "Well, well, well… Looks like sissy is having a good night. A pretty little cock whore all dolled up for his wife bulls," she teased, her words dripping with seductive mockery, clearly in on what his wife has orchestrated.

     John's cheeks burned hotter at her words, his breath catching in his throat. He knew he looked utterly debauched, yet he couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him at being seen this way, exposed and vulnerable. His cock strained in the cage and he knew he was leaking precum all over his pink panties.

     "Come now, darling," the receptionist continued, her tone playful yet commanding. "Let's capture this moment, shall we?" She produced a camera from behind the desk, gesturing for John to pose. "A few snapshots for Rachelle, in exchange for the letter you're so eager to receive."

     Feeling utterly exposed and under her control, John complied hesitantly. He posed as instructed, the camera clicking away to immortalize his humiliation. Each click felt like another layer of his pride peeled away, yet the ache in his chastity cage betrayed a deeper longing—a craving to please, to submit completely to Rachelle's desires and the whims of those who now saw him as nothing more than a plaything.

     As the last picture was taken, the receptionist grinned knowingly, her gaze lingering on John's dishevelled appearance. "You're quite the sight, darling," she purred, handing him the letter with a wink. "I'm sure Rachelle will appreciate these... and perhaps she'll have more tasks for you soon."

     John's heart raced as he took the letter, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. He had embarked on a path of submission and humiliation, driven by a complex blend of desire and devotion that he couldn't fully comprehend—but one that he knew, deep down, he craved more than anything.

It read “I can’t wait for it much longer cucky. Visit room 233 if want my mouth wrapped around a cock 🥵”

     John needed no further instructions; his balls ached inside the chastity belt, spurring him to move as quickly as his heels would allow. He clicked his way across the lobby and into the elevator, where a few people giggled and tutted at his appearance.

     Ignoring them, he practically ran out of the elevator on the second floor, heading straight for Room 233. He could hear his wife’s voice inside, and he eagerly knocked on the door.

     They had been married for years, and she was finally going to reward him with a blowjob. Something he had begged her for, but she never consented.

When it opened, five large, naked black men stood there, laughing at the sight of him.

“So, you must be Rachelle’s sissy cuckold. Come in now, cuck boy.”

     John entered, but his view was quickly obstructed by the men, who surrounded him and led him to a bench. They restrained his hands and ankles, ensuring he was completely at their mercy.

     Without hesitation, they picked up several riding crops and began whipping his ass, back, and thighs. John cried out in pain, his cries muffled as one of the men thrust a large cock down his throat. Another man positioned himself behind John, using only spit as lubrication before penetrating his ass. The other three men continued their assault, attaching clamps to his nipples, slapping his balls, and whipping him while hurling degrading insults.

"Take it, cuck boy. This is what you deserve."

"Look at you, sissy maid, loving every second of this."

“You’re nothing but a pathetic cock whore, aren’t you?”

     The verbal humiliation intensified, each word stinging as much as the physical punishment. Just as the men began to rotate positions, a huge plasma screen flickered on directly within John’s view. He immediately recognized the source of his wife's voice.

     There she was, in a hotel room, wearing red skimpy lingerie, her body poised seductively. She flirted with a black man with the biggest cock John had ever seen. John watched, mesmerized and heartbroken, as she sank to her knees and took the man’s cock into her mouth—something she had never done for John in their entire relationship.

The men in the room cheered at the sight, their taunts growing louder.

“Look at your wife, cuck boy. She’s loving that big black cock!”

“Bet she never did that for you, huh, sissy?”

“She’s found a real man, and here you are, our little plaything.”

     The men ramped up their insults and punishment, using John’s ass and mouth with renewed vigour. The screen provided a cruel backdrop to his torment, a constant reminder of his wife’s betrayal and his complete submission to his new reality. Each thrust, each slap, each cruel word drove home his role as their sissy cuckold, a role he could no longer deny he craved.

     As soon as the man on the screen removed his cock from Rachelle’s mouth and came all over her tits, the screen went dark, leaving John in utter humiliation and arousal.

     In the room, the men showed no signs of slowing down. They took turns using John’s mouth, ass, and face, each thrust driving him deeper into submission. The first man groaned as he emptied his load into John's throat, the salty taste filling his mouth.

     "Swallow it all, cock whore," he commanded, watching with satisfaction as John obediently swallowed every drop.

     The second man grabbed John's hips, his powerful thrusts causing John to cry out, the sound muffled by yet another cock invading his mouth. With a final deep thrust, the second man came, filling John's ass with his seed.

"Such a good sissy, taking it all," he mocked, smacking John's ass as he pulled out.

     The third and fourth men continued the onslaught, switching between John's mouth and ass, their degrading comments never ceasing.

"Look at you, desperate for our cum."

"You're nothing but a cum dump, aren't you?"

     Finally, the fifth man took his turn, gripping John’s hair tightly as he fucked his face. With a grunt, he came, his load spilling onto John's face, mixing with the cum already there.

"Such a pretty little cum slut," he taunted, smearing the cum across John's cheeks.

     By the end, John was a trembling, cum-covered mess, his ass and mouth filled with their seed. The men stood over him, admiring their work, their cruel laughter echoing in his ears.

     "You did well, sissy. Maybe next time, we’ll let you watch your wife get fucked in person," one of them said with a smirk.

     John's heart raced at the thought, the ache in his chastity cage a constant reminder of his denied release. He had been used, humiliated, and degraded, and yet, a part of him craved more. The men left him there, his body and mind overwhelmed by the intensity of his submission, knowing that his journey as Rachelle’s cuckold was only just beginning.

     John’s wrists ached as the men finally unlocked his cuffs, handing him a note from his wife. Her words cut through the haze of his humiliation and arousal: “I couldn’t wait any longer, sissy. You must be taking your time and having fun with these guys. If you want the key to your chastity belt, go to room 667.”

     They pushed him out of the room, and John stumbled slightly, the pain from the whippings and the strain of walking in high heels evident with each step. He made his way to the elevator, where more people began to laugh at his debased appearance, snapping pictures with their phones.

     "Look at the amount of cum in his pants. He must be enjoying himself," one woman laughed, pointing at the stain spreading through the fabric.

     John’s face burned with shame, his cock straining painfully against the confines of the chastity cage. He left the elevator and knocked on the door of room 667. It swung open to reveal several tall black men, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

     "We’ve heard legendary things about your mouth and ass, cuck boy," one of them said, a mocking grin on his face.

     John stepped inside, his hands were quickly cuffed behind his back, and a four-inch chain was attached to his ankles, restricting his steps. The men stood around him, their large, throbbing cocks swaying, each one adorned with a keychain.

     "One of these will open your cage, sissy boy," another man taunted. "But first, you have to suck us all off."

     Determined yet humiliated, John dropped to his knees and began his task. The first cock filled his mouth, the taste of skin and musk overwhelming his senses. He moved his head rhythmically, hearing faint sounds of approval from the men. Each suck, each lick drove him deeper into submission, the strain in his chastity cage a constant, painful reminder of his desperation.

"Good little cock whore," one man murmured as he came, his load spilling into John’s mouth.

     John swallowed dutifully, moving on to the next man. His jaw ached, his mouth stretched wide, but he persevered, driven by the image of his wife and the promise of release. He serviced each man with a mix of determination and resignation, their degrading comments fueling his humiliation.

"You're nothing but a cum dump, aren’t you?" another man sneered, thrusting deep into John's throat.

     Finally, he reached the last man, his mouth raw and his spirit broken. He deepthroated the largest cock, working it as far down his throat as he could until he finally exploded down John’s throat, leaving him gagging with the cock in his throat.

He then had a decision to make. Which cock had the keychain to unlock his chastity?

     With painstaking care, he started to work the largest cock down his throat, trying not to gag as he made his way to the base of the cock. It was wrapped firmly around the cock so it took several minutes to work it off his thick shaft just as the man came all over his face.

     The man took the keychain out of his mouth and tried it in the lock of his chastity cage, but it didn’t work.

     "How predictable," one of the men laughed. "You went for seconds with the largest cock, but that wasn’t the one with the key to your chastity, cuck boy."

    Oh, one more thing cucky. They attached nipple clamps with small bells to John so every time he moved, the bells jingled announcing his presence and adding to his embarrassment.

 They left his hands cuffed behind his back as they pushed him out the door. "Room 742 is where you will find your wife’s next instruction," they told him with a smirk.

     John stumbled down the hallway as the four-inch chain attached to his heels hobbled his steps. His face a mess of cum, his body aching, and his mind reeling from the degradation. His cock throbbed painfully within the cage, the ache only intensifying his need to follow his wife’s orders, no matter how humiliating. He was her sissy cuckold, and he would do whatever it took to please her.

Everyone else was cumming multiple times, and John may have just lost his only chance for release..

When would he get to see Rachelle? Would she let him out of this cage?