AUTHOR: C. K. OLDIN’

TITLE: Lovebird Robbers: A Hot Wife Bully Cuck Novella

Kinks/Themes: Caged cock, humiliation, debasement, punishment (lashing) and forced MM oral (cuck servicing bull).

Copyright © 2025 C. K. OLDIN’

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.

WORD COUNT: 22000 words

{b}{i}

TABLE OF CONTENTS{/i}{/b}

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

{1

Chapter 1

“Harder,” Skylar demands as the guy fucks her.

I watch and rub my jaw. I know not to look away. Skylar’s eyes keep going to me, making sure my cock is hard and that I’m not touching myself, but I see the frustration in her eyes. The bull isn’t doing it for her.

Rubbing our wedding band on my finger gets Skylar’s attention. I want her to come. I want this big dicked man to fuck her through one orgasm and into the next one while she proves that other men can do what I can’t, but I know it’s not going to happen.

She’s pissed; she needs more than a man rutting into her, chasing his own satisfaction.

“Harder. Faster. Fuck me like you mean it,” Skylar orders, glaring back at the bull. He swats her ass lightly, but when she turns and meets my eyes, I see her boredom.

Annoyance is one thing, but boredom is damning. Her tits stop bouncing because she’s not going with it anymore, and she points at my cock with fury. “If you could do this, I wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. Three more inches even, and I know you’d be the kind of bull I need, wouldn’t you, Liam?”

My throat tightens, and my cock twitches eagerly. Normally, when she whips out that demanding, sharp, insulting voice, it’s because she’s in the mood and ready to burst. This time, she turns and shoves the bull off her, climbing off of the bed and grumbling under her breath as she grabs her skirt and button up. She doesn’t even bother with her underwear.

“Fucking waste of time,” Skylar snarls. “Put yourself away, Liam. We’re leaving. If that’s not obvious.”

I stand up, lift my boxers, and then zip up. Skylar jerks a heel back into place, fixes her thigh high, grabs her coat and snorts. “I won’t be following up. When a woman says harder, she means harder. If I wanted a disappointing lay, I’d fuck my husband.”

Obediently, I hold the door open for her and shut it behind her.

Skylar has no business having a threatening, sharp tone like that when she’s barely five feet tall. In her four-inch heels, she’s eye level with my shoulder. She tosses her dark hair over her shoulder, then sighs when we get to the car. She rests her ass against the trunk and massages her temple.

“I would have kicked his ass if he came and you didn’t,” I mutter.

Skylar looks up at me, and her deep green eyes soften. She rubs my chest and leans into me. “I know, baby.”

I gently rub her hip. “I can manage with toys if you’re eager to come today. The Hitachi wand and your favorite dildo are good. I know how you like them both, and my cock will get no attention unless you give me permission.”

She nuzzles my chest and kisses over my heart. “I love you, Liam.”

My whole body relaxes into those words. She only says it when she means it, and she means it often enough. She purrs it in my ear or against my lips whenever we're on a mission. When we’re at home, she says it to me whenever it crosses her mind. No matter how rough we get, no matter how she insults my size, she never lets me forget what matters.

“I do. I love how strong yet submissive you are. I love how you never make me feel terrible for my favorite kink. I love how you’ve never tried to get me on the right side of the law. And I love that you know exactly what I need to hear,” Skylar lists.

I lift her chin and kiss her slowly, then deeper when she opens for me. I know she’s horny. I know she wants more than a kiss. She needs more than my fingers, than my tongue, and more than my three-inch cock.

“You know how much I love you, Sky. Your eye for art-forgeries and the real ones. I love your passion and drive. You’re beautiful inside and out,” I praise.

“So I wasn’t too rough with you at the end?” Skylar asks. “My big burly cuck can handle when I’m mean?”

I chuckle. “If I didn’t like your mean side, you wouldn’t be Mrs. Grey, would you?”

“And you would have turned me in after our first job when you realized you were making sure I got away with switching that Dega for a fake,” she giggles.

“I figured staring at you with awe was more appropriate,” I reply.

She sighs and stands on her toes, trying to kiss me again. I feed her a warm kiss and dangle the keys in front of her. “You want to finger yourself in the car and show me how much your fingers can do more than my cock?”

She kisses me again, sucking my bottom lip. “Such a good boy for me. I love seeing your cock caged whenever you take off your pants for me.”

It took a number of months for me to agree to a cage at all, and I refused to wear it constantly until after we were married. She’s worked me up to this point. A little bit at a time. From a few instances of having sex while she belittled me until I came-a surprise in all honesty-to us switching to using her toys while she’d occasionally blow me. And now she rarely has to touch me at all to make me come.

Skylar is unique, potent, and astounding. The fact that she’s five feet on a good day and capable of all this power constantly overwhelms me. I run my fingers through her hair, then fix her makeup.

“I wish we could play a little,” she finally answers. “But we have another meeting-work related.”

“No more disappointment today, yeah?” I ask, cupping her face between my hands. “We’re going to get a high-value target, we’ll kill it, you’ll make sure the forgery is perfect, and then we’ll find the bull of your dreams.”

She melts against me and kisses me again. “You’re such a good cuck for me, baby. How can I not love you when you’re so obedient, so submissive, so willing to welcome humiliation.”

With that, she takes the keys from me and gets into the driver's seat, adjusting it accordingly. I get in the passenger seat, accepting this small form of emasculation. Skylar peppers them in. She knows I like to drive, so when she’s frustrated or horny, she drives to watch me shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

As she pulls out of the parking spot, she rubs my thigh playfully. She keeps rubbing, getting closer and closer to my caged cock until I catch her hand. She smirks. “What, you don’t want my teasing?”

“Not if I don’t get to watch you come while you tease me,” I correct.

“You’re perfect. Finding you among all the interviewees has been the best deal of my life,” she says warmly.

The constant switch between her rougher, dominant side and her loving, warm side still leaves me feeling whiplashed. I don’t know exactly how to manage everything with her, even after more than a year together. I had a very eye-opening honeymoon where she showed me exactly how much she likes to humiliate…though I’ve come to embrace it, sometimes it takes me aback. It’s all part of the learning process of being a good cuck.

When she humiliates me in just the right way and pushes all the right buttons, I come the second I get the slightest stimulation. That doesn’t mean I like the constant reminder that I don’t have enough inches to please my wife.

I hate that I don’t have that ability to make her come on my cock alone. It’s not new. Skylar isn’t the first woman who’s told me my size doesn’t do it. She’s just the first one to say it to my face and then offer a solution.

Of course, I love her, so I’m willing to accept the trade-off. First, it was using my fingers and tongue because I knew those get her off and accepting that my dick just wasn’t going to get to enjoy her the same way. Then it was listening to her watching porn and comparing my size to those of the men there while I fucked her with a dildo, and she asked why I’d been blessed with such amazing natural muscle growth but without a matching dick. Then the cock cage while we’d play along with her, commenting on my size and sweetness while fucking herself or using a machine to fuck her while I ate her out or watched in the corner.

Every step forward has been a step away from her, too, but I love her too much to hold it against her-not when this dynamic makes us both come.

But that doesn’t mean I’m entirely sold on finding the ‘perfect bull’. I want my wife pleased. I want Skylar to come, to include me in it, to mock me and moan while watching me because of a man I’ve picked for her. It makes me feel like I’m enough to get her off. I’m enough to please her, and once the rhythm starts-just like with the last three bulls we’ve tried-I can see myself as that man, plowing my wife, pleasing her while it’s him she’s mocking, not me.

“Liam,” Skylar says, interrupting my thoughts as she lightly swats my thigh. “Hey, you with me, baby?”

“Always,” I answer naturally, reaching out to her and squeezing her hand. “What’s on your mind?”

“Let’s go over our approach. This is one of those wealthy clients. One, I’m betting, is used to traditional roles. Do you want to go in as the lead?” she asks.

I shake my head. “I’m the muscle, Skylar. Anyone who looks at us knows the dynamic. You’re the brains. I’m the muscle that you point in a direction.”

She shoots me a glare. “You’re more than that. I get to belittle you when we’re playing. You don’t do it when we’re not.”

I smile and lift her hand to kiss her knuckles. She nods once. “You know plenty about art by now. I know how quickly you pick up on things. Just last week, you pointed out that our artist hadn’t used the right brown even before I pulled out the tests.”

“It helps when you fall asleep to art documentaries,” I tease.

She bites her bottom lip. “I like falling asleep to such calming voices, just like when you read to me.”

“And you’re sexy as hell when you paint in just a button-down,” I comment. “I love that our house is covered in your work.”

“Really? You haven’t had the itch to include a Van Gogh or Monet?”

“Why would I want that when I have an original Grey in every room?” I ask.

Skylar blushes, an uncommon occurrence, and glances at me at a red light. She nibbles her bottom lip. “You make me feel good.”

“What a coincidence,” I say with a smile. “You make me feel good, too.”

Skylar is always a little gentler after she’s harsh with me. It’s her aftercare. It’s unspoken but understood. Skylar can be plenty rough, and I’m sure that if someone was looking from the outside in, they wouldn’t understand. They’d see Skylar like some mustache-twirling villain putting me down and abusing me, but that’s not how it is, and that’s not how it’s ever been.

“You keep slipping into thought today,” she comments.

“Just thinking about us. Thinking about our kinkiness and how far we’ve come,” I answer.

“Are you happy with our marriage? I know we have a kind of Bonnie and Clyde thing going on...” she hesitates, then clears her throat. “And I know that we’re unorthodox in the bedroom. You know you can safe word.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” I assure. “I remember the word and haven’t hesitated to use it the few times things went too far.”

“Is there anything you want to change?”

My mind flicks to what she said to the bull. If she wanted a disappointing lay, she’d fuck me. I rub the back of my neck. “This is a real question-not a request for humiliation.”

“Okay.”

“Am I disappointing in the bedroom? Entirely? I know that I’m not as big or thick as...normal or average, but you haven’t faked orgasms for me, have you?” I ask, trying to keep my tone steady. I can admit that I get overwhelmed with training to be her perfect cuck that thoughts like these creep up once in a while.

Skylar turns to look at me, ignoring the fact that the traffic light has turned green. “You think I’d lie to you like that?’

“It would be a well-intentioned white lie in the moment and I wouldn’t judge you for it. You’re sweet when you want to be,” I say soothingly as she accelerates and focuses on the road. “I’m a big boy, Sky. I know why I used to have trouble keeping a girlfriend once we got to sex. I’m not ignorant.”

“You’ve made me come for your tongue and your fingers over and over. Never your cock, but I didn’t fake it. I didn’t pretend, and I wouldn’t. That’s a big part of why we work so well, baby. No lies.”

“No lies,” I agree, sighing out a little. “Good communication, respect, and no lies.”

“Plus, our shared hobbies,” she giggles. “Stealing art in the best way, watching documentaries, reading together, and so many other things. We always make sex work, and we’ll keep doing that without sacrificing what we have. So if you don’t want me to have a bull...” Her voice trails off.

She’s leaving the option in my hands.

A part of me wants to say no. I want my wife to myself, but denying her the pleasure...it’s not something I can do. I never can, and I’m convinced I never will. So I shake my head. “I want you to have the right bull for both of us.”

{1

Chapter 2

I unbuckle when we pull into the parking lot, but Skylar pauses. “We got off topic.”

“When?”

“How are we playing this? Are you going to head in and hang at the back, utterly detached from me and focused on the job? Do we present ourselves as a married couple? You know first impressions are important,” she murmurs.

I rub my jaw, then nod. “If we appear unattached, he may underestimate you; try to cut a lower deal, then you can increase the price. I’d rather him focus on you, and if we walk in together, they often...”

“Yeah, they’ll talk to you and ignore me when I answer,” she agrees. “Apparently, I’m easy to overlook.”

“Well, no matter what heels you wear, you’re perfectly petite and short,” I say with a wink.

She rolls her eyes. “Which means I’m more capable!”

“Not arguing, Sky,” I assure.

She takes a breath and sweeps her hair back into a pony. When her eyes flit to mine, her eyes dip over my chest, following the length of my chest, abs, to my thighs, then back up to my exposed arms while she bites down on her pony.

I take a sharp breath, eying her with blatant desire until she takes the pony from her lips and puts it in her hair, tightening her high ponytail until it gives her an extra inch at least. She sharpens her makeup and pulls out red lipstick.

She smears it over her top lip, then glances at me. “Help me finish?”

I’m all too happy to do whatever she says. I trace her bottom lip with thick red lipstick. She motions me forward, and I lower my black tank top for her. I love being her ‘napkin’. She called me that to humiliate me, but no matter what she says, wearing her lipstick mark on my chest or abs reminds me she loves me.

Her warm lips press to my chest, and she looks up at me. God, she’s beautiful. So doll-like and sweet in one moment and as lethal as a knife in the next.

I stroke her face and trace under her bottom lip just to make sure she’s perfect. “Beautiful, perfected, and cunning. He has no idea what’s going to hit him.”

“Apparently, he wants a specific piece. We need to find the right artist to follow through. I have a few ideas, but I know you have a good eye for this kind of thing. You also read people better than I do,” Sky informs.

I watch her as she texts. Even as she goes over the notes we always touch on before meeting with a client, I’m enraptured by her. Skylar is a force to be reckoned with and I love her all the more for it. The version of herself that she presents to the world is determined, no-nonsense, and all business. Occasionally, she’ll lace sexual undertones to use it to her advantage. A few times, I’ve seen her flirt with curiosity in her eyes, as if sizing a man up, but she never acts without consulting me.

No one gets to see the soft vulnerable sides of her. No one sees her cry at cute dog commercials because they’re just too cute. No one, even in our tight-knit group, knows that Sky can’t sleep unless she’s either cuddled around a pillow with another at her back or in my arms. They don’t know that she throws back shots of Dayquil the second she feels sick so she doesn’t miss work.

I get the real Skylar. I get all sides of her in a way that no one else ever has or will. It doesn’t matter if she takes a bull, not really, because she’s still mine. She will always be mine. In every way that counts, Skylar is mine. My wife, the love of my life, my partner in work and at home.

“Tonight, we should watch a movie,” I suggest.

She pauses, and I realize I cut her off. She looks over at me, drinks in my expression and grins. “You look cute as a button like that.”

“Like what?” I tease.

She climbs onto my lap and cups my cheek as I rub her hips. “Whenever you look at me like you love me. Your eyes get so much darker, and you get this cute little blush that doesn’t match your buzz cut or your rugged face. It’s cute.”

“Aren’t I always cute for you?”

“Sometimes you’re scary and intense when you’re protecting me, but I love this face. And I love it when you look all humiliated and turned on at the same time, too. Like you want to hurt me for what I’m saying, but you just can’t because you like it to, because you know it’ll make you come,” Sky praises. “I love it. And then there’s always one moment where you switch, where you go totally submissive despite being nearly a foot and a half taller than me and so muscled and big.”

A low sound leaves my throat. “Keep talking like that, and I think you want to miss the meeting.”

“Isn’t it a power move to reschedule?” she asks, her lips nearly on mine. “Doesn’t it increase the intensity and desire?”

“With you, everything does,” I groan.

She nearly kisses me, then leans back and rolls her hips on me. I pant as I watch her move. I want to feel her on me. Want to feel her hot, still wet pussy as she grinds against me. This stupid cage is murdering me.

“Please let me out of the cage. Just for the meeting, for work. I wear it so constantly. Please,” I beg.

She hums and rolls her hips again before patting my chest with a wicked smile. “I don’t think so, baby. I think that cage is the only thing I want to feel. Maybe I’ll fuck the cage instead of you, see what you can feel. It’s thicker. Harder...”

Embarrassment swipes at my soul, but the heat of that shame sinks into me and makes my dick harder. Skylar teases me, working me up as she keeps touching me. Humiliation and appreciation in different ways, but at the same time, it is so overwhelming that I can hardly think.

“But you’ll have to be a very, very good boy during the meeting. Only speaking with permission, like a good sub. You’ll do nothing but watch and maintain your place. You speak up only if requested or necessary. You do exactly what you’re told, and we’ll see if I can get off to your cock cage and a Hitachi wand.”

“Please,” I whisper, knowing better than to use her name when we’re playing.

“And if I can get off to your cage and your wand skills, I’ll let you lick up the mess I make,” she croons, tracing my lips. “Prove how good your tongue is, but that means you have to behave, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I grit out.

“Which is what you want to do because you like pleasing me. You live to please me,” she continues. “Unlike the pitiful bull you chose today. I come first-always.”

“Always,” I agree, lost in the potent mix of frustration, restraint, and desire. Every mild insult, every reminder that I can’t please her with my cock makes me more determined to please her, however I can prove I’m good enough and worthy, and it makes me nearly feral. “That’s the only way it can be.”

“So we’re going to get through this meeting and figure out how to make me come first. We might just be able to make a movie of our own,” she says before licking over my bottom lip.

My blood burns with need. I want her. I want to consume her desire, sate it, be the reason for every moan and for her ecstasy. She rubs my chest. “And because you want me happy, you’re going to obey me like the good boy you are.”

“Yes,” I agree.

She winks at me, then opens my door and steps out. She wiggles her hips slightly and drags her skirt further down to hide the top of her thigh highs. Skylar looks back at me and arches an eyebrow. “Are you coming?”

“Not until you do,” I grunt.

She laughs loudly, then quiets it. She clears her throat and points at me. “None of that in the office. That’s for us to enjoy. Just us.”

I take a few breaths, then stand up. I make sure it’s not obvious I’m wearing a cock cage, even though that humiliation, the idea of someone knowing how deeply my wife controls me, excites me. Work and pleasure are different. That’s how it’s always been.

“Kiss for luck?” I ask.

She groans. “I brought the wrong lipstick. I can’t, baby. Is the one on your chest enough?” She glances at her watch. “If I take it off the right way, I could always put it back on and only be one minute late, which is a kind of power play.”