From Husband to Castrated Sissy

"No more asswipe," Carlos said from the easy chair. He'd pushed it back, his feet up.

"Tell him to leave," I demanded of my wife. "Tell him you want him to go. Now."

"I can't do that, sweetie," my wife said.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want him to leave."

Carlos chucked at that. "She don't want me to leave, you hear that sweetie?"

"Well I'm telling you. Get out. Get out now, you son of a bitch!" I shrieked. I was practically hysterical.

"Just shut the fuck up," the black man said, sounding almost bored. "You're ruining my good mood.

I started towards the man in my chair, dressed in my robe, who'd just had his cock in my wife.

Kelli laid a hand on my arm. "Honey, don't."

"Like hell I won't."

The black man sighed, put his drink down on the table, and calmly pushed the chair down to get to his feet.

Behind me, I heard Kelli say, "Be careful Carlos. Don't hurt him too much."

I'd like to think I could blame the booze I'd drunk, but the fact is even if I'd been cold sober and he'd been drunk, I don't think the results would have been any different. He was huge and strong, and it couldn't have taken any more than one blow, although I don't even clearly remember that. What I do remember is that he slapped me upside the head with his open palm and it was all over for me. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the floor in a heap. Carlos sat back down in the easy chair, picked up his drink, and continued watching television. Kelli was kneeling beside me, asking me something, but I couldn't hear her voice. Everything sounded like I was underwater. Then I passed out.

* * *

When I came to, Kelli was still kneeling next to me, but I was no longer in the living room. I was in the basement lying on one of the beach lounge chairs that we put out on the deck in the summer. My wife was undoing my pants and pulling them down. She had already removed my shoes and socks. I was still pretty groggy so it took me a while to realize that my shirt had also been removed. I was naked from the waist up and my arms were raised over my head, my wrists tied to the bar running along the top of the chair. By the time I managed to make sense of what was going on, Kelli had tied my ankles to the bottom of the lounge chair.