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Cuckold Nightmare
Cuckold Nightmare
Cuckold Nightmare
Ebook74 pages47 minutes

Cuckold Nightmare

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About this ebook

Everything is going fine for a married couple until they find themselves living with a large, heavyset black man named Mambo who is nearly twice their age.

Just as they are about to evict Mambo, the husband finds himself experiencing many confusing changes as his mind and body become less and less masculine.
While his transformation into a sexy 'femboy' continues, his ability to pleasure his wife decreases, more and more, leaving her in a state of perpetual sexual frustration.

One thing leads to another, and the couple's relationship undergoes a dramatic shift when they find themselves opening their bedroom door to Mambo who is only too happy to fill in any holes.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherBobbi Love
Release dateJul 18, 2018
ISBN9780463878019
Cuckold Nightmare
Author

Bobbi Love

Hi, I'm Bobbi Love. Obviously, this is not my real name. This is only my fake name. Hm, what else? Well, I'm from Texas. I was born in 1985. I've always had a very dirty imagination, I suppose. I wrote my first "novel" when I was eleven years-old. (It was about a group of mermaids who started an all-girl band, ha ha.) But after that I sort of stopped writing. Then I went to an all-girl college in Texas. Now I'm married to one of the best guys in the world. Unfortunately, he has no idea what a dirty, depraved, messed-up woman he has on his hands. Ha ha. Well, I hope you guys enjoy my stories. Please feel free to leave comments, or suggestions, or reviews or whatever. KK, thx!

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Loved the story but wish there were more chapters with Chase and Antony... instead of the last chapter with Mamdo that was pretty much the same as other stories.

Book preview

Cuckold Nightmare - Bobbi Love

Cuckold Nightmare

Interracial, Cuckold, Hotwife Erotica

Copyright 2018 Bobbi Love

Published by Bobbi Love at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Other books by this author

Part One

Clutching the space between my legs, I felt almost nothing. Over night the thing I'd always been so proud of had shriveled into something painfully tiny. Even when filled with lustful blood it was no bigger than half my thumb, not very hard, and very pink. I was living in a nightmare. What have you done to me?

The large heavyset black man pondered that, scratching his strong jawline, then smoothing his shirt over a slight gut which protruded over his belt, making him look not fat, but more powerful and virile.

Mambo! I cried.

Mambo smiled. Then he lit a cigar, leaned back in his chair, and blew out a big stinky cloud of smoke. How many times do I have to repeat myself? he said, annoyed. Besides, you wouldn't know the name of the root if I told you. But suffice it to say, it has very potent medicinal values. And once the effects start —by then it's too late to change them. It's best if you don't fight it, just let Nature take its course. Enjoy the transformation.

Part of me was still desperately grasping to the notion that what Mambo had told me was nothing but a bunch of crap meant to wreck havoc on my psychology. A lie. A trick. An evil prank from an evil prankster.

But another part wasn't so sure.

How long does it last?

He shrugged.

Wishing that this really was a nightmare I could wake up from, I said, The effects don't last forever though, right?

After a while Mambo broke a tense silence with the deep boom of his voice.

Back in Africa, when one tribe conquered another tribe, they would give the conquered men and women something called the Nigerian Nightmare Root, he explained. Or just Nightmare Root.

Nightmare Root, I repeated softly, not liking the sound of that at all.

He took a moment to enjoy my growing apprehension before continuing. The warriors found that it made the conquered men more docile, less likely to cause trouble, and less likely to procreate with their women. Curiously enough, the same root caused women to become more sexual, more likely to seek the attention of men. The root acted as a fertility drug. Soon the conquered men’s' wives and sisters would often seek the sexual attention of the same warriors who'd just conquered them. This, apparently, allowed the two tribes to rearrange bonds successfully, so that after a single generation, they were one, formidable, inseparable tribe which offered its people a greater chance at safety and resources.

That sounds really fucked up, I said. So why do they call it the Nightmare Root anyway?

Legend has it that before battle, warriors would have nightmares of losing and being forced to consume the root just to survive.

Disgusted, I shook my head at the not very attractive black man now. When does it wear off?

Wear off?

Yes, how much of that shit did you give me?

Judging from your reaction, he said with a big smile on his face, I'd say I gave you enough. Maybe too much.

Okay. When do I change back?

Mambo blew out another big ring of smoke into the living room and looked at me with his cold, dark, calculating glare.

Unable to sustain eye contact with the man, I found myself nervously staring at the carpet.

No. I wasn't sure exactly how old Mambo was, but I assumed he was around 60 with very dark skin and a goatee that was almost silver. But he was a far cry from being handsome, as his face had brutal strength which often gave him a sadistic or cruel look, his big flat nose prominent between two yellowish eyes that glinted with predatory life. Further marring his appearance was a long scar which ran down the side of his ugly mug from eyebrow to jawline. For a guy his age, however, he was in great shape, big, standing six or eight inches taller than me,

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