Cuckolded by a Gigolo and Cunningula
Introduction:
It is 1870 and I find wife consorting with Captain Rigsby, the notorious Gigolo and Cunningula
Cuckolded by a Gigolo and Cunningula by abroadsword
It was a beautiful afternoon when I returned to Manderley, I rode the long way following the cliff path from Polperro looking out over the channel at the ships plying to and forth on billowing sails instead of taking the direct way, my hireling steed more suited to ambling than the rush of business and I savoured the sea air as I returned dutifully to my ailing bride as she rested beside the sea.
My wife Clarissa was a beauty, slim willowy yet womanly where it counted, a ready smile when she chose but was not robust, indeed she so continually succumbed to the bad air of the confines of the metropolis that I had taken a lease on the house atop the cliff at Manderley that she might stay the summer and profit from the sea air and regain her health.
I came a day earlier than planned, I know not why. I travelled from Paddington through Bristol and Exeter and Plymouth and on to the Cornish town of to Liskeard by the railway lines of Mr Brunel and there I hired a horse for the last few miles along the East Looe valley and along the cliff tops to Manderley.
to get the sad reunion over I supposed, for mother was concerned that a year and more had passed from out marriage and still no heir, whilst I for my part could barely remember making a union with her at all.
Clarissa was beautiful, when she smiled her smile lit the room, but the smile was not for me, no, she married for position, and in a great haste when her father’s fortune was lost in a flurry of poor investments and despite any feelings between us it was because as her father was my late father’s friend that I was persuaded to make her an offer, which she accepted with alacrity and thus with great ceremony were we wed at St Giles.
“I had hoped for so much more,” she confided as she lay beside me the morning after we were wed.
“Fear not,” I reassured her, completely misunderstanding her meaning, “I shall not trouble you frequently, just an heir and spare will suffice and in the mean time I shall engage suitable servants to sate my needs.”
She looked at me as if I crawled from a stone, “No, indeed you shall not, I find the entire question of the utmost distaste,” she insisted, “I have done my duty, now let there be an end to it,” and though in due course I did persuade her to conjoin to procure an heir it was a joyless affair and my needs were sated by joyful young maidens of the labouring classes dressed in finery carefully selected for my delectation by the keepers of the finest bawdy houses in Ladbrook Grove.
But enough preamble, back to my arrival at Manderley, for that afternoon there were no servants to attend me when at length I arrived at the house, I suspected they idled in dark corners unaware of my approach. I heard giggling, a titter of laughter and so seeking to surprise the idlers I kicked off my boots and crept up the back stairs in my stockinged feet.
The giggling grew louder, it came from my bed chamber. Servants in my bed chamber, consorting in my bed, it angered my so I threw the door wide and there froze in shock, “Rigsby?” I queried, as I saw my beautiful bride lying nakedly upon the bed, her legs spread wide while Captain Rigsby the most notorious of impecunious rogues attended her, his face pressed firmly between her thighs, and his tongue thrust robustly within Clarissa’s woman’s parts.
He turned, his face all moistended and glistening with Clarissa’s juices. Clarissa spoke first, “John, we expected you on the morrow?” she explained.
Rigsby lay there gasping like a stranded fish, or rather half lay, his legs over the bed end half kneeling, his shirt off, just under shirt and under breeches and barefoot, and thus was he displayed before me, and indeed as he turned I saw in addition his manhood was rampant and ready to mount her.
His jaw dropped, “John, I,” he said uncertainly for he was acutely aware he was in flagrante and devoid of breeches and absolutely caught in flagrante..
Clarissa for her part was attired in corsets and little else, and from her flushed cheeks was seemingly entirely restored to rude health.
“John, I could not resist, Captain Rigsby has over powered me,” Clarissa lied as she regained her sense.
I stared at her, her inner thighs were all displayed, the lips of her womb pouting and glistening, her downy mound neatly trimmed and her corset tight so her mounds were thrust up and her teats reared like rampant thumbs.
“Over powered indeed, do I look like the village idiot,” I countered, “I am not blind you strumpet, you whore!”
“He forced me John,” she insisted.
Rigsby stared, “I meant no harm,” he pleaded, “It is my one failing, I cannot resist a beautiful woman!”
“I should have guessed you of all people would pursue her,” I sighed, “Lord preserve us from your whore chasing.”
“Your wife is no whore sir,” Rigsby said nobly seeking to induce a duel, of which he had won several and had the scar upon his temple as testimony to one he lost, “I feel honour compels me to lay down the gauntlet and to fight for her honour.”
I sighed, “Do be so melodramatic Rigsby, we are men of the world, will you dine with me?”
“What?” he asked.
“You have clearly done me a great service, fornicating with my wife, indeed I am so glad to have grounds to cast her aside, and do you know Rigsby I own I know no better fellow to cast her off to,” I expounded with an affability which concealed complete hatred and contempt.
“Surely a duel,” he suggested, “I have wronged you, it is the way, the honourable way.”
I shook my head, “You speak of honour when I find you abed with my wife?” I smiled, “Lord no Rigsby, you have her and welcome.”
“And you, I had expected so much more,” I said to Clarissa, though I scarce meant a word of it,”I thought you a respectable lady, when you are in truth no more than a common whore!”
I felt a great weight lifted from me, I had not chosen her, I would be glad to be rid of her, and Rigsby with no means of support would be the perfect mate for her, why she could entertain gentlemen for sport and trade as well in a little brothel somewhere and pay his gambling debts with her body.
“Carry on,” I said and unbelievably he looked as if he meant to continue as he gently bent his head to her bared teat and eased her legs apart, “You seem to have a talent for fornication, why, perhaps you could set up as the village whore in Looe or Polperro.”
“Rigsby loves me, and I conjoin with him in love,” she explained, “With you conjoining is naught but my duty, and an onerous duty, dull and lifeless and artless like every other single thing about you!”
I could not reply but merely ,slammed the door behind me as I had stepped through, “Mary,” I bellowed, “Fetch the Mistress’s trunk!”
Mary the housemaid came at a rush, “Oh sir, we had not expected you till dawn and gone!” she said.
“I came by the Dutchman,” I said referring to the Flying Dutchman train if the Great Western Railway, though such was meaningless to her, “Fetch the mistress’s trunks we have a bonfire to prepare.”
“Sir?” she asked.
“Oh yes even now she fornicates with Captain Rigsby,” I explained as I dragged on my boots and jacket, “I paid for her extravagances, I shall reap the benefits by way of a lovely bonfire.” but I was tricked for even as I spoke Rigsby was already away down the drain pipe and awayon his stallion Black Gold.
I heard the commotion and rushed to the window to see his shadowy figure on horseback rushing and clattering wildly over the cobbles as he shot away as if the very devil was behind him.
I stared after him, Rigsby running away like the base coward he was, well if that was how he wished it, I decided, then so be it
Clarissa was throwing her things into her travelling trunk, “You do not expect Rigsby to return for you do you? I asked.
“Indeed now stand aside and let me pack” she insisted.
“Oh no,” I stated firmly, “What is yours is mine, he shall have naught but you, no baggage, a smock to hide your modesty perhaps, but no more, indeed come, I shall take you to him forthwith.”
“No!” she said, “I shall not allow!” and I grabbed her arm and pulled her across the bed, “No!” she squealed and I had my hand in the neck of her gown and with a satisfying tearing sound it began to part along a seam, wider and wider it split and wider still, “No you shall not!” she wailed and it split as far as a belt around her waist and there it remained until with a further tug it tore clear across the back and fell away entirely to fall around her as a skirt but not for long as I wrenched it down to the floor, “No!” she wailed.
“And these,” I insisted as I grabbed at her dainty slippers, and threw them in a corner, “Not a brass farthings worth shall Rigsby have of mine!”
“For pities sake!” she protested as she stood in her underthings, “My jewells are Mama’s”
“Then keep them,” I offered, “But that shift is mine!”
“Oh no,” she countered and she squirmed and slipped away from me, “Mrs Bridges, the master has gone quite mad!” she wailed at the cook who stared open mouthed as she sped by.
“Come here!” I shouted and I sprinted after her my boots slipping on their hob nails as her feet skidded in her silk stockings, “Come back!”
“Help!” she wailed as she flew headlong to the kitchen seeking some refuge but there was non, no bolt to bolt against me and finding herself cornered in the kitchen she shot into the garden and ran like the wind across the lawns in the moonlight like some mystical fairy in her thin white underthings.
She was no match for me for speed but she dodged and kept me at bay until the far wall of the garden which though but waist high was rough stone and devoid of foot holds, and so I grasped her firmly and there laid out before us in the moonlight was the bay and headlands far below.
“No!” she protested.
“No,” I agreed, “The cliff path is too dangerous,” I said as held her while catching my breath.
Her bosom heaved from laboured breathing and I took her thin shift at the shoulders and ripped it completely aside to leave her teats unbound but her waist corseted, “No!” she said as my hands instinctively sought her mounds.
“No,” she said and I tore at her shift again until it parted baring her buttocks, “No Rigsby, we.” she said and suddenly froze.
“Rigsby?” I countered.
“I mean,” she stuttered.
“You think it is Rigsby holding you,” I asked, “Why?”
“You are caressing me like Rigsby caresses me, your breath rasps in my ear like Rigsby’s breath,” she explained, “You excite me like Rigsby excites me,” she whispered and as I pressed my manhood against herm she added,”And I excite you?”
“You little whore, do you care not who pleasures you?” I asked incredulously.
“No, be Rigsby for me,” she saidand her hands were at work behind her at my breeches and the buttons flew wide and she had my appendage in hand and rigid and indeed rampant.
“I am to be Rigsby?” I queried, “Are you mad?”
“No” she said, “But I need someone to love me!” and despite all my good sense let her guide my appendage within her from behind her as she leaned upon the wall looking over the sea, “Ooh,” she gasped, “Husband you are so eager!”
I had no reply beyond pistoning loins as I pleasured her and myself also, but the evening was perfection and for pleasure I doubt there was a whore in all Paddington that could compare with her womb as entirely sheathed within her I luxuriated in her as the firm moist grip of her parts stoked the fires burning within me.
“It is so beautiful,” she whispered, “The sea, the moonlight and you within me.”
She shivered in the cool air sending sublime sensations racing through my appendage and bringing on the onset of release, “Ohhh Captain,” she gasped and I exploded within her and the moment was perfection itself.
“Husband not Captain if you please,” I asserted, “Come, we must find you a servants smock aye and clogs and a pastie for the journey.”
“But did I not please you as you pleased me?” she asked, “Surely you love me, was that not perfection?”
“No you cried out ‘Rigsby,” I reminded her, “But come let me carry you.” I insisted and I slipped my jacket from my shoulders for her to wear, and continued, “You have wronged me, it cannot go unremarked, perhaps I should send you to a Paddington bordello who would pay a pretty penny for your services or a Plymouth press house but come, we have things to discuss.” and I handed her my jacket and when she had slipped it on I lifted her up and carried her away to the house.
“I had no idea you could be so passionate,” she insisted, “Why for a fleeting moment I near believed you loved me.”
“And I had never the faintest notion that my wife might have the makings of a whore,” I agreed.
“I am a woman with needs,” Clarissa insisted, “I need love John, not crude carnality.”
“So I am to substitute for Captain Rigsby until I return to London?” I queried, “Is that your plan?”
“He says he loves me,” she said plaintively, “And his kisses, he is so intimate John.”
“He is a Gigolo, a cunningula, he has learned the art of the castrati in the harems of the east, but he has no love for you any more than do I, he merely loves anything with a dowry,” I replied, “He flits from widow to debutant to whore like a butterfly in spring,” I explained, “All fine words but no substance, just an exceptionally well trained prong!”
“But not so stout and proud as yours husband,” she simpered.
“What?” I demanded.
“Your eager prong, why Rigsby’s needs endless cajoling before he can perform, kissing, licking.” she said, I demurred.
“Enough I say!” I cautioned.
“No ’tis true,” she insisted, “You make no protestations of love yet you make love with an intense passion, the sight of my body rouses you, admit it, you love me.”
“I most certainly do not love you,” I insisted, “I took you as I would the basest whore!”.
“Liar!” she exclaimed, “How can you say such a thing!”
“Because I am your husband.” I reminded her.
“Then do your duty and ravish me again,” she suggested and she grasped my manhood anew,”I sense you wish to!”
My member already stiffened stirred anew as she grasped him, “You do want to, do you not?” she enquired.
“Yes I do now you have roused me,” I agreed.
“Then take me husband!” she insisted.
I was too aroused to demur and before I knew I was sheathed within her anew, and lost in her I pounded my way to heaven, and as heavens light shone at the moment of ecstasy and my senses returned I found three Shepherds close by patiently waiting to pass along the footpath.
“You,” I said to the first, “This Ewe need a ram.”
“Beg pardon sir but we don’t poke whores sir, lestaways not cheap ones,” he replied and they ran away.
I laughed, “My god, even the local shepherd wont poke you!”
“I hate you!” Clarissa said quietly.
“Then we are agreed, no more love, I shall use you as a whore as I please,” I offered, “I shall be your whore master, and when I choose you shall entertain diverse lovers, are we in agreement?”
“And Rigsby.” she asked awkwardly.
“Including Rigsby, I have plans for Rigsby.” I insisted.
I put my jacket around her for the walk to the house, and we went upstairs to her bedroom where she disrobed entirely, “Will you kiss me like Rigsby, on my mound and in my cleft?”
“Indeed I shall not,” I insisted, ” ’tis for you to please me, now lie back I have need of you!”
She spread her legs revealing her parts lewdly, “Take me then,” she challenged, “Take me to heaven husband!”
I needed no second bidding and leapt upon the bed with alacrity and plunged my appendage deep within her with no consideration what ever and yet she beamed widly, “Ohhhh so lusty,” she exclaimed, “Why could you not desire me like this on our wedding night?”
“God damn you woman,” I replied, “My god you can turn on the charm.”
“So tell me you love me,” she demanded.
“I despise you,” I insisted, “You are nothing but a base whore with base urges who needs a good seeing to.”
“OOhhhhh,” she gasped, “Ohhhh, don”t stop, please, don’t,” she said but I was overcome and my world erupted in an explosion of passion which burst forth to flood her innards entirely.
“Rest my husband,” she said softly as I withdrew to lie beside her, “Rest with me,” she added and she threw the bed covers over us and cuddled close to me.
“Clarissa,” I demanded.
“Sleep,” she said and she turned away from me and we slept.
Morning came with a warm glow, a feeling of supreme contentment and a rigid pole, a warm wet rigid pole and as I looked with a single raised eyelid so I saw Clarissa’s sweet mouth upon my member and had near devoured him completely.
“Husband,” she said, “Captain Rigsby,” I saw she had dressed in a crisp white silken nightgown.
“Captain Rigsby made you perform thus?” I asked.
“Yes, may I?” she asked.
“What?” I asked.
“Sink down upon your appendage?” she asked.
“Take your robe off,” I said, “And wash your mouth,” I added, “A kiss on the lips will suffice and thereafter you shall await instruction.”
“Shall I not sink down then?” she asked as she dutifully removed her nightdress.
“Yes sink down, take your pleasure!” I laughed, “Take you pleasure, and then I shall take mine.”
She stood and came and straddled me and sank down upon my member whilst facing me so I could see every single thing as my member speared her, “Husband,” she said, “Why was it not thus on our wedding night?”
“Because you deport yourself like a whore!” I said, “Not a wife!”
“And what is a whore but a wife hired for a moment or an hour?” she asked, “God had it not been for Rigsby I should never have known ecstasy but if you will find it in your heart to allow it I might seek ecstasy every night.”
“Oh for gods sake woman,” I chided and reached for her to pull her to me,”Hush your rattle and wipe your mouth, I wish to possess you entirely!” and I kissed her firmly upon the lips even as I speared her with manhood.
We lay together quietly when all was done, “Shall you be faithful if I take you back?” I asked.
“Indeed,” she said, but she was insincere.
“So where is the impediment?” I asked.
“He served me,” she said, “Oh this is so hard, he served me with his tongue when his manhood failed, his tongue in my womb, you understand, and it was sublime!”
“Then remember it well for I shall not serve you thus,” I declared but therein I formed a plan which needed fortuity to bring to fruition.
And fortuitously so it came to pass when a month or so on we came upon Rigsby again, he waited upon the train at Plymouth as we too waited, my wife turned away but I by contrast sought him out and invited him to join us in our reserved first class compartment.
We rolled steadily through Stonehouse and with much huffing and puffing our locomotive engine began the toil of the climb over the Dart Moor, “I owe you a debt of gratitude Mr Rigsby, you have transformed my wife from an invalid into the very personification of a whore, Rigsby, and do you know I may yet have a position to offer you ,” I mentioned.
“Indeed?” he asked.
“Yes, a small pension, for a small service.” I offered.
“Surely we should duel?” he queried.
“Oh no, Clarissa craves your tongue Mr Rigsby,” I explained, “You have the rare talent of the cunningula as the Italians have it, for myself I find the whole thought distasteful but if Clarissa desires your tongue then we must oblige her.”
“What the duce?” he demanded.
“We shall engage you as a cunningula,” I declared, “If you perform satisfactorarily, or shall I run you through as an alternative?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Rigsby snapped, “For pities sake don’t be such a bloody fool,”
“Fool? no this is a very sound proposal,” I declared, “So disrobe please my dear for Mr Rigsby shall take you to heaven.”
“I cannot,” she declared, “Decorum forbids.”
“Pah, we have twenty minutes and more to the Totnes stop,” I warned, “Disrobe and you Rigsby serve her,” I said and at once I took a dagger from my portmanteau and brandished it, “Shall I bare you forcibly Clarissa?” I asked, “Shall I slit your throat Rigsby.”
“Humour him if you please Mr Rigsby,” Clarissa said swiftly, “Help me with my things!” she said excitedly.
“Or I shall run you through and aver that you assaulted me,” I suggested.
“Oh very well,” Rigsby agreed, “If it amuses you, and he knelt and his head disappeared under Clarissa’s skirts as with a rustle her under things were hauled down.
“Oh John,” Clarissa simpered as he set to work kissing licking and caressing, “Ohhhhh,” she wailed as sensations wracked her lithe body and even as he pleased her so I kissed her full on her mouth and possessed her utterly.
So utterly that the approach to the station at Ivy Bridge and the gracefully smooth halt there occasioned great surprise not least from the Misses Clements who unknowingly threw the door wide and went to enter the carriage only to find Rigsby’s posterior blocking their way as with head and shoulders under her skirts and mouth sucking at the delights between her legs he continued to pleasure my wife.
Part two.
The girl screamed, she dropped her portmanteau. The porter raised such a shout.
“Quiet man, have you not seen a cunningula before?” I demanded.
“No sir nor want to,” the Porter allowed.
“And why are we stopped when not required?” I asked.
“The Millbay Luggage is delayed sir, and Mr Black he be station master he said let the ladies on as they missed the morning parly.”
“Then let them on and Captain Rigsby shall entertain them at my expense,” I insisted but the girls rushed away in consternation.
I watched in fascination and I thought, why with some proper training Clarissa might serve very well as my whore, and indeed Rigsby did seem to have found his vocation as a cunningula though the prospect of being castrated so he might not fornicate with his clients might not appeal but in a flash it came to me, a cock cage, admittedly he should have to wear a kilt or skirt rather than breeches or trews to hide it but his fornicating days would be behind him.
I smiled as our train departed, and drawing out my pencil I swiftly designed the cock cage which bears my name by which a cunningula can be left alone with a wife to prepare her for conjunction.
To be continued
