British spanking mags: tormenting powerless cuckolds

It must be hard when your darling wife sleeps around without you knowing, or when every few months you have to give her a scorching caning for cheating again. But spare a thought for those hapless husbands who know exactly what is going on, but can't do anything about it!
This comes closest to the common cuckolding scenario. But while cuckolds often enjoy their wives being with another man, these husbands decidedly don't.
Usually these stories are set in an unfair society where an older man has far too much power - enough that he can do what he wants with the wives of lesser men.

'The Schoolmaster's Wife' has a particularly tasty setting: a husband takes a job at an exclusive boarding school and his wife learns that the headmaster expects to grope and spank her bottom whenever he feels like it!

Priscilla was now prepared to believe anything! "He-he doesn't really cane us, does he?" she asked weakly.
"Oh I'm afraid he does, dear. Whenever we give him the excuse and sometimes when there is no excuse at all. I'm afraid, like he says, we are a pleasant diversion from the boys."
"But – but does your husband know?" asked Priscilla, incredulously.
"Oh yes, of course he does. And he just has to accept it as one of the Head's little quirks. After all he values his position here... and it's not as if the Head was screwing me, is it?"

And if that wasn't enough, the senior boys are allowed to as well!

So ask yourself, Priscilla, can you control fifty hormonally charged boys who are all dreaming of getting you naked and giving you a good shagging?"

...

Priscilla, struggling to maintain composure, asked what Angela did to ease the pupil problem.
Angela flushed slightly. "Let's just say I'm very friendly with them, without letting them have... er... you-know-what. I sometimes let them watch me undress and sometimes – well, I do sometimes let them spank me."

But in the tastiest exchange, it's suggested that there is another way to keep all those horny young men placated:

Of course, you could be like Susan Rogers, whose husband runs Lamont House, and simply allow the boys to screw you. She never has any trouble with discipline."

Priscilla gasped in disbelief. This just couldn't be happening!
"No, it's true," said Angela. "Mind you, Susan is a little tart. She loves screwing them anyway."

Well, as her husband says:

"Pris, we've got to get the senior boys co-operation. Otherwise – well I could lose this job. And, I suppose they only want to have a bit of fun, really."

Of course, the time a man is really vulnerable to cuckolding is when he's only just an adult, courting or maybe engaged to the girl of his dreams with not even a shared surname to ward off potential suitors. Especially when those suitors are in positions of power and authority.

While the 'good old days' were a great time for real men who knew how to discipline their wives, they were also a great time for powerful men who always got what they wanted. Especially at home, with their many servants, as shown in 'Trials of a Parlormaid'. Even (or perhaps especially) if said parlormaid is already spoken for:

From the stable block at the rear of the house a young man glances up at a window on the first floor.

...

He can nonetheless see something in his mind. A young woman standing there. Waiting. She will still be waiting at this moment. He glances at his watch. Yes. The master is a man of strict routine... Sir George Hartgrove.
The young man (he is 22) with the keenly watching eyes is called Arthur Tradwell.

...

He lives in the village with his parents and does not need to be here at this hour of the evening except... for that young woman he knows, or believes, to be at present in that room opposite on the first floor. She is close to being his fiancee; certainly they are walking out as the expression is. Her name is Jane Linnet. She is 19 and a parlourmaid at the Manor

...

Perhaps no one else did know? But he knew that wasn't likely. They would know the other inside servants. Cook (Mrs Hagley). Mr Jermyn, the butler. Also the other maids? Did the other girls have to go and see Sir George in that room? 'S...Sarah does,' Jane had whispered. Sarah was the other parlourmaid, a pretty girl but not in Arthur's eyes half as pretty as Jane. Sarah had to go at lunch time Jane muttered.
'Does he do it? To Sarah?' Arthur had asked. Jane wouldn't answer — but he knew the answer was yes.

But Arthur wasn't concerned about Sarah. It was Jane. Every evening before dinner. Or almost every evening. Almost, so there was a chance it wasn't tonight. Arthur tried to tell himself that. Yesterday and tomorrow but maybe not right now. That would be something, that it wasn't happening, or about to happen now. Arthur's eyes are intent, straining... as if somehow they could pierce the drapes... and see that Jane wasn't there. He looks again at his watch. 7.45...

But Jane isn't getting screwed, but spanked...

Jane hoists up her skirts. Naturally there is no thought of refusal, of argument. Jane is a parlourmaid. Sir George Hartgrove's parlourmaid. He is her master and as such can do virtually what he wants with her. And if he wants to spank her bare bottom every day before dinner...

And beforehand the man in power has something to say that certainly applies to Arthur:

Not hot for that Arthur? Eh?'
'N...No Sir.'

...
'I hope not, my girl. I don't want you giving it to him. Whatever the weather. And no one else either. Not Jermyn. Nor to anyone who comes to the house. Is that understood?'
Jane stutters a desperate 'Yes Sir.' 
'You and Arthur Tradwell, Jane. Nothing planned yet?' Frantic-eyed Jane shakes her head.
'Good. Well, see that you discuss it with me before you make any plans. I won't necessarily object. Perhaps you're getting to the age when you need to be wed. Eh? A big, ripe girl. Maybe you need a young man in bed at night giving it to you. Tupping you. We'll see, eh? But until then... I want you still a virgin, my girl. Is that understood?'

I suppose Arthur standing outside while his girl is punished, and her boss forbidding her from giving him any pre-wedding fun, is sort of cuckolding, but it's hardly the worst thing that could happen, as Arthur well knows...

Arthur doesn't have to imagine Sir George going in there at night and getting at Jane in bed. If a gentleman is randy and inclined that way then there is nothing a girl, a helpless parlourmaid, can do about it. But Sir George at least does not have the urge in that direction — otherwise he would have the two girls in separate rooms. In a way, perhaps, Arthur thinks he should be thankful he doesn't have that worse thing to worry, about: Sir George getting in Jane's bed, on top of her, when the fancy takes him.

The worst thing comes later...

Jane won't be sleeping in her own little bed tonight. No, Oliver Hartgrove, nephew of the master and with the master away, has other plans for this delicious young woman.

A rare crossover between the spanking universes of Britain and the USA occurs in 'American Dream Girl'. A pretty, A-grade American senior wins an essay contest and her 'prize' is an exchange with a British finishing school. Her fellow students are obviously readers of this blog as they are well versed in what goes on at British finishing schools, and they delight in informing her:

Lorene Greene said, 'Well I hope you enjoy it, MarySue. I'm sure you will. But you know what those teachers are like in England. Well everyone knows of course. They're always caning girls. They just love to put the cane to a girl's bare rear. You'll really enjoy that no doubt.

But the other thing is – they're really horny as well.' And then Lorene said something else in a hot half whisper.

'The girls go down on them. Suck them in other words. They really go for that.'

They also delight in informing her boyfriend, who will no doubt spend weeks and weeks imagining what could be happening to his future fiancee:

MarySue at l8 had not started doing it yet. Not yet started screwing. She had a steady boyfriend, Greg Banford, also in the 13th grade at Northside, but they didn't go further than reasonably heavy petting.

...

Just occasionally when MarySue was in the mood; when she was feeling a little bit horny perhaps – because even straight-A girls who were really keen on doing well at school and getting into a good college could sometimes at 18 feel a bit horny. Wondering what it would feel like to have a guy's stiff thing probing into her... and then going right up. Yes and when MarySue sometimes had those kind of thoughts lucky Greg might be permitted to slip her panties down and get his hand between those sweet thighs and get his hand at MarySue's on such occasions hot and quite wet pussy.

...

MarySue's sweet tits, her thighs, the thought especially of her pussy, could all easily distract him. But on this occasion though he certainly did have those considerations in his head, there was also something else. Yes Greg had also heard Lorene's thoughts on the subject of English school. On what his MarySue could expect.

It had made him see red alright.

It was really sickening. Sick. The thought of it. MarySue getting her bare ass whacked by some awful Brit teacher's horny hand.

And even much worse of course that other. Having to suck this guy. Suck... his big stiff cock... Poor Greg felt sick and ill at the utterly horrendous thought of it.

and he is clearly well aware how powerless he is:

Now sitting with his lovely girl on the settee in her parlour he just had to mention it. He couldn't help it – though at the same time it was really difficult to get the words out. But he had to.

 ...

'It's just a lot of really sick talk,' he declared.

...

But of course Greg didn't know it was just sick talk. It could be that it would really happen. MarySue getting her lovely ass spanked by this awful English guy. Or even caned. You did hear they did that as well in English schools. And also the other. MarySue having to suck this guy's cock. Yeeks! That was the worst alright.

And if it happened – MarySue probably wouldn't want to tell. When she came back. 'No,' she would say brightly. 'It was OK, I had a really great time.' When in fact she had been getting her bare bottom spanked. Maybe not just the Head but various other male teachers too. All keen to have a go at Mary Sue's sweet ass.

 

 And the other too. Sucking their cocks. A couple of times a day maybe?

'Just make sure you tell me,' Greg hissed desperately. Unthinkingly. 'If it does happen. Because I would really want to know, that's all.'

So maybe Greg is at least hoping that he'll get a blow by blow account during a phonecall and he can have a wank and a cry at the same time. Truly a cuckold in training!

But Greg is even closer to being cuckolded that he realises. We never even get to see if the rumors about MarySue's exchange are true, but it doesn't matter because her principal has also heard the stories and is eager to help her prepare for the ordeal. All of the ordeal!

Jerry Wexford had long wondered if such tales were true. Did those limey teachers really do it?

....

Some awful Brit teacher with one of those awful limey accents – with lovely MarySue held bottom-up over his lap. Her skirt up and her no doubt really cute and brief panties dragged down. To bare that delectable, mouth-watering ass. Which this awful guy was belabouring with heavy whacks of his open palm. With no doubt as the same time a really big erection on which under the distressed girl he was rubbing in against her sweet pussy.

...

Jerry Wexford had the sudden exhilarating thought of writing to this English character – the Head of the school where MarySue would be going. Telling him to feel free to put the cane to her. 'Miss Phillips is in need of a little corporal punishment, something which here in the States we unfortunately do not practise. She is a really excellent student and of course a lovely girl. But she could do with having her lovely ass warmed up. Like most pretty 18-year-olds, don't you think? Yes, please give her it nice and hard on her bare bottom.'

Could he write that? Mr Wexford had suddenly developed a considerable hard-on

Through a sort of red haze she heard Mr Wexford say it was six. Six was probably what a girl could expect in England. 'Well for starters at least. Six of the best, that's their expression.'

She was still gasping for breath. Gasping with the impossible shock. But... it was over. At least.

Wasn't it? At least Mr Wexford had finished. Well... The thing was he had also heard about that other thing Lorene had said. What a girl could also expect on a visit to an English school. Jerry Wexford had got it from Steve Slofield

...

He had had a quiet word with young Slofield – who had relishingly relayed what Lorene had said in its entirely.

Adding with an innocent expression, 'What do you think, Mr Wexford? Can those British teachers really do that sort of stuff?'

Jerry Wexford had grinned. 'What do you think, Steve?'

But what Mr Wexford thought was... Well could he? The thought of it was even more dizzyingly exciting than the rest: the spanking and caning. They had been fantastic, and he thought that maybe he was going to have to do it again before she went off. Well maybe more than once. Just to ensure the lovely girl was fully prepared for what those Brits could do to her.

But to have her fully prepared... there was this other. Yes, and who could say that those awful characters wouldn't try that. Because you couldn't put anything past them. Could you?

The darling girl was still in the altogether, apart from her knee socks and shoes.

Yes a truly glorious vision. And what Jerry Wexford, principal of Northside High, greatly desired now was for the vision to do a certain something. Which no doubt those British members of the teaching profession were in the habit of requiring in quite a routine manner from their choicer female students. And were there going to be any choicer that lovely MarySue Phillips? No. No possible way.

His desire for her to do it was really quite overwhelming.

* * *

Mr Wexford has his arm round MarySue. He is leading her over to the settee. But once there it is the Head who sits down, and tells MarySue to kneel. Kneel on the rug. Close up. Between his parted thighs. And then...

Oh! Can it really be! What appears to be Mr Wexford's request! In the manner of the English teaching profession according to Lorene Greene. Yes. It is. And the delectable MarySue is complying...  she is pulling down the zip to Mr Wexford's pants. And then... pulling out this very large stiff thing. And then...

So while Greg is at home, obsessing over the thought of his lovely lady sucking on an English master's slender cock, she is at that very moment on her knees, making his nightmares come true with his very own all-American principal!

Cuckolding in British spanking magazines

The great old spanking magazines like Janus, Februs, Roue, Blushes etc are a rich source of cuckolding tales too.

As we all know, spanking and screwing go hand in hand, so is it any wonder that middle-class housewives are wont to stray? They regularly get their voluptuous bottoms spanked, strapped or slippered by their husbands, or by their fathers, or father-in-law, or boss, or husband's boss...

And they must spend their days tottering around the office in high heels and tight blouses getting their bottoms pinched...

Or at home scrubbing floors. or making themselves pretty and lounging around watching the day go past oh so slowly on their dainty wristwatches while the silk of their robes teases their pert nipples. And then we act surprised when they look for some comfort from the nearest man to hand!

Spanking stories that contain cuckolding are by and large set in the suburbs, and there is such a taboo thrill of supposedly respectable suburban ladies who should know better (and their daughters who are being taught to imitate them) giving in to their primal urges with men other than their husbands.

That's why they get spanked of course, but we all know that spanking is only a punishment in the loosest sense - nothing warms a lady's front side up faster than a little leather on her backside!

I think this paradox is what is so appealing about spanking - you get the idea that it's painful punishment and all the taboos and fantasies that come with that, but all it really does is make horny ladies hornier!

And of course there are plenty of dirty old (or not so old) men who are itching to have their wicked way with the bottoms and fannies of willing ladies while their husbands are unaware or helpless to intervene.

Many of the old magazines are still available on the relevant websites, and some of the stories have been posted on the brilliant www.britishspankingmagazines.blogspot.com
They're well worth buying if you like your classic spanking stories, but over the next few weeks I will post snippets of may favorite cuckolding scenes from those classic publications.
Sometimes cuckolding is only hinted at:

But often it's much, much more explicit. Let's start with the Janus classic 'Albert Higginson Strikes Back', where a stereotypically outraged pensioner catches the nubile young wife living next door doing something she shouldn't:

'I know just what that young hussy needs,' Albert would hotly inform Dorothy, his wife, after a session at the bedroom window.
What she needed, of course, as Dorothy would know, for she had heard it many, many times before, what Melanie Halford's ripe bottom needed in Albert's estimation was 'a good whipping'. The cane, or a riding crop, her husband's belt – or, one may be sure, Albert's belt

...

There had been a car outside next-door's that he couldn't recall seeing before. Happening to go again into the front room 15 minutes later Albert had this time seen a young fellow get in and drive off. He had seemed to come from next door...
Albert made it his business to know other people's business as far as possible and he knew that the husband, Mr Halford, would be out at work. He had a job at that newfangled computer firm and his car wasn't there. And so if this young chap had come from next door he had been to see her. He could be a relative, or some sort of salesman. But on the other hand – well, certainly Albert was prepared to believe anything of her, especially with those jeans an open invitation.

Albert's nose was indeed pointing him in the right direction. Something was going on next door. Albert's 'young fellow' had knocked and entered a few minutes after the washing had been hung. Melanie had greeted him somewhat equivocally.
'Oh God, Trevor. I told you not to come round here in the daytime. These blasted neighbours, they've got eyes like hawks.'
Not very welcoming words perhaps but at the same time Melanie was permitting him to push her up against the hall wall, his body hard against her, his arms around her, one hand enthusiastically groping that bottom which regularly sent Albert's temperature soaring; and then his tongue in her mouth to stop further words of protest.
Melanie sucked on the tongue, making moaning sounds of pleasure, and then broke her mouth away.
'I'm serious, Trev; you don't know what it's like, especially with these old fogeys. They've got nothing better to do than mind someone else's business. There's this old bloke next door for one. He's always eyeing me.'
Trevor Wilmot, 29 and who was a salesman, gave a laugh. 'He probably fancies you. He's probably dying to get his hands on this fantastic bum.'
Melanie giggled and squirmed at what Trevor was doing to her bottom. Then protesting but not too strongly, she agreed to go into the lounge.
Melanie had met Trevor Wilmot four weeks earlier at a party and just didn't know how she'd got into this, but a harmless lunchtime drink at a pub and then a drive in his car and, well... It was Gary's fault really, she was stuck at home all day and he mostly didn't want to go out in the evenings. She knew she shouldn't do it and had strong guilt feelings. That was why she wouldn't let him go up to the bedroom, it was in the lounge, on the sofa. Somehow that didn't seem as bad as doing it in their bed.
Protesting still, in the lounge Melanie nevertheless slipped off the skin-tight jeans and then the very brief knickers (pale blue ones). It was really dreadful but at the same time overwhelmingly exciting. Afterwards, of course, the excitement was, for the moment at least, gone and you still had, more strongly, the guilt feelings. You also had, and more strongly, that fear of busybody neighbours.
Melanie repeated, more vehemently, her pleas that Trevor must not come round to the house; but when you are 29 and fancy-free, enjoyment of pleasure and the satisfaction of simple basic desires can be paramount. (Albert Higginson would have had something to say about that.) So although Trevor said a dutiful 'OK', there he was the next morning again ringing the door bell.
'Oh no!' gasped Melanie – but nonetheless let him in. 'You can't!' she breathed – while once more allowing herself to be persuaded into the lounge. 'NO!' she pleaded – as, like yesterday, the jeans and knickers came down again.

All this was most unfortunate because today hidden in the greenery at the end of the garden, was a figure Melanie would certainly have recognised...

It's the classic fear (or fantasy?) of the suburban husband - your nubile young wife getting charmed and seen to by a travelling salesman while you are at work. Like many, Melanie's hubby remains oblivious to her indiscretions, but good old Albert is certainly willing to take her to task over them, using all his spanking experience (there is a wonderful throwaway line about his having 'used a belt in his younger days, on an errant niece') to scorch Melanie's gorgeous bottom with a riding crop.

And at the end of the story there is a lovely display of the unintended effect a thrashing can have on a young lady:

Melanie's bottom had stung like mad for quite a while after awful Mr Higginson had left but gradually it had eased. And as the sharp sting in her bottom lessened so she began to realise that shock and horror wasn't all she was feeling. It had been diabolical but at the same time the thought of it was exciting. To be forced to bare your bum like that – or at least take your jeans down – for that stern old man and have him whip it with that riding crop. It was horrendous but it was also a real turn-on.

The feeling of being turned-on had increased and by the time Gary came home Melanie was feeling really steamy. She grabbed him as soon as he was in the house and, rubbing herself up against him, suggested that they go upstairs. This was a shock to Gary, Melanie was never like that when he got home. She had given him a hot, sexy kiss and informed him, 'I'm feeling randy!'
And randy Melanie had definitely been in the bedroom. Lewd and disgusting, Albert Higginson would undoubtedly have said even though it was her own husband. But lewd and disgusting or not, he, Albert, had unwittingly been responsible for that behaviour.

All helped by the fact that the reader knows exactly why this naughty young wife isn't usually like that when her hapless husband gets home!

Real men hard at work...fucking your wife

Vanessa Chaland's recent accounts on her Cuckold Letters blog of having workmen round have inspired me to round up all the pics I have of builders, plumbers and other manly men giving bored housewives a good seeing to. I've written before about how hot it is to have gangs of big burly men coming into your house to have fun with your family. And let's face it, the ladies in your household probably fantasize about little else while you're at work...

 

 

 

Put it this way, your wife is home alone every day bored and horny, and when you hire builders there are at least five muscular men in the house every day, and given how 'uncouth' you think they are they probably don't waste any time telling her what they'd like to do to her. Are you surprised you came home to find her as the meat in a man sandwich?

No matter how well you treat your lady, you'll probably never make her feel as grateful as the repairmen who rescued her from being stuck in the elevator, or who repaired the cable in time so she didn't miss her stories...

Let's face it, the reason your wife loves 'real men' so much (apart from the fact that they're better in bed) is that they're actually useful to her, whereas your pampered middle-class ass is only good for earning (too little) money that has to be spent on sorting all the problems that you're not manly enough to fix. No wonder the handyman is round so often...

And those plumbers who are laying pipe for your wife in more ways than one probably make more in an hour than you do in a week anyway...

 

OOOh Hi, honey...the plumber is here cleaning the pipes

Thanks to the trailblazing antics of a certain Lady Chatterley, your wife knows exactly what to do with that hunky gardener you hired. Pool boys are also a great source of daily dick for more well-off housewives, and no matter how much you try to take control there'll always be a hot young hunk (or three) in your house while you're out:

 

And that's just the men who have access to your home. When your wife ventures outside there are even more 'real men' waiting to show her a good time. Like what is it about your wife and mechanics? At home she hits the roof if you create a speck of dirt, but show her some rough, burly men in greasy overalls and she just can't keep her legs together...

Ladies love a man in uniform, so what do you really think happens when a cop pulls your wife over?

If your wife ever got rescued from having her toe stuck in the cold faucet, she might just head down to the fire station to show how grateful she is:

And no matter how much you tip the bellboy, when your wife goes away on business or with friends, she can always give a little bit more...

When you hear the words 'personal trainer' alarm bells should be ringing. It means your wife is spending hours and hours getting hot and sweaty in the gym in the company of lots of toned young men...

Of course, for rich wives (or brides on their special day), a hunky chauffeur is a compulsory hiring:

 

If you live in a coast city and your wife desires some strange dick, she only has to head down to the docks to have fun with all those horny sailors:

Though spare a thought for those English men during World War 2, who while they were off fighting for King and Country, would have received letters from their wives saying how they had lovely American soldiers staying with them who were (literally) charming the pants off all the local ladies:

This is all going to happen, so you might as well embrace it. After all, if your wife is going to have fun with these masterful men, why shouldn't you too?

Speaking of which, I have to mention a glorious series of posts over on the Husband in Check blog recounting how a handyman came to be involved with the blogger and his wife. And it definitely contains plenty of spanking, cuckold, and bi!