I'm Ky, and I'm a cuck-oholic

[venus-can99]

Ky - stepping away from the topic at hand...
I believe you have relatives in CA. Hope they are safe from fires

[mundyman]

Ky. I have been watching your journey for years now. If I have commented, it was many moons ago. The latest developments are a cause for major concern. The game has increased at alarmingly fast speeds. You are driving an F1 car on D rated tires. No bueno.

The tattoos and markings. My wife has been playing around with fake qos tattoos, and I have definitively seen a change in her behavior, and these are just fake ones. The psychological condition that happens is undeniable real. She is marked for other men, especially black men. Real tattoos, though? Another level. And the additional tattoos, for someone who had never even had even a small tattoo. Specifically his initials. Throughout history and all cultures, this is a sign of ownership, not matter which way you spin it. Tattoos also usually have meaning. Some people just put markings or designs they like, but tattoos historically have meaning and do often become part of ones identity. If someone inked their initials on my wife they would find their end looking at my 45. I suppose you don't have that option in the UK though.

Lexi emerging. Every knows of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID, formerly know as Multiple Personality Disorder, which is typically caused by child sexual trauma and diagnosed at an early age). This is NOT Lexi.

However, there is also Other Specified Dissociative Disorder and DDNOS. I started researching this stuff recently because of a guy who was talking all kids of crazy domination and "owning" types of shit to my wife. I have a dual degree in behavioral psychology and business, which I moved to after dropping out of engineering. I have never done much with psychology, although I did use my knowledge to help condition my wife to become a size queen (yea, it worked) as I went the business route in life, but have always remained curious in both psychology and engineering. I had learned some of this shit long ago, but after almost 30 years ago I did not remember much and research sure had advanced.

Read more here if you want: https://traumadissociation.com/osdd

"1. Chronic and recurrent syndromes of mixed dissociative symptoms. This category includes identity disturbance associated with less than marked discontinuities in sense of self and agency, or alterations of identity or episodes of possession in an individual who reports no dissociative amnesia.

2. Identity disturbance due to prolonged and intense coercive persuasion: Individuals who have been subjected to intense coercive persuasion (e.g., brainwashing, thought reform, indoctrination while captive, torture, long-term political imprisonment, recruitment by sects/cults or by terror organizations) may present with prolonged changes in, or conscious questions of, their identity.

3. Acute dissociative reactions to stressful events: This category is for acute, transient conditions that typically last less than 1 month, and sometimes only a few hours or days. These conditions are characterized by constriction of consciousness; depersonalization; derealization; perceptual disturbances (e.g., time slowing, macropsia); micro-amnesias; transient stupor; and/or alterations in sensory-motor functioning (e.g., analgesia, paralysis).

4. Dissociative trance: This condition is characterized by an acute narrowing or complete loss of awareness of immediate surroundings that manifest as profound unresponsiveness or insensitivity to environmental stimuli. May be accompanied by minor stereotyped behaviors of which the individual is unaware and/or that he or she cannot control, as well as transient paralysis or loss of consciousness. The dissociative trance is not a normal part of a broadly accepted collective cultural or religious practice. "


This shit is real. Sipho is checking things in all of these boxes. I liken it to hypnosis. It only works on some people, and some of those better than others, but it is real.

You yourself wrote this.

4. Jaimee will stay Jaimee at home and with your family, but to the rest of the world, your name will be changed to Lexi.

You also wrote early on that Jaimee said this.

"But this is part of us now."

And where this is heading? Sipho already told you.

His words set my mind ablaze, each one stoking the fire of my own desires. "What'll she be like in six months?" I asked, my voice rough with the mix of emotions churning inside me.

Sipho's eyes gleamed with a knowing look. "In six months, she'll be the talk of the scene. She'll have new ink, maybe a snake around her leg, showing off her power. She'll start throwing her own parties, where she's the star, where everyone wants a piece of her."

"And in a year?" I pressed, the vision of Jaimee's future both terrifying and arousing.

"In a year," Sipho continued, "she'll be a legend. Her appetite will be something else, her skills in bed will be the stuff of legends. She might even write a bloody book about it all, teaching others how to fuck like she does. She'll be leading the charge, all while coming back to you, her anchor."

I couldn't help but ask, "And in five years?"

Sipho leaned close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper with that distinctive South African twang. "In five years, who knows? She could have her own spot, a place where the big shots come to let loose, where she's the queen bee. She'll be known for more than just her body, but for her mind, pushing limits, making sex an experience. She'll be a myth, mate, a story told in places like this, living in two worlds, and you'll still be her rock in all this madness."

The images he painted were like fuel to my already burning fantasies, each scenario more raw, more daring than the last, setting my mind and body alight with the possibilities of my wife's transformation.


It appears that lately, Jaimee, is less and less, and Lexi is taking over. How long before Jaimee is no longer. I understand the excitement of pushing the limits and boundaries, but you guys are not even playing with fire anymore, you are playing with enriched Uranium.


I am not trying to be a Debbie downer for all, but this is beyond a game now. This place for all it positives, can be an echo chamber of terrible advice. I have watched a many "real" people disappear over the years for what I can imagine is not sailing off into the sunset of a blissful marriage. Just like Heroin addicts, how many old ones do you see kicking around.


Do you love Jaimee? It is now time to save her if it is not too late. She has repeatedly looked at you to do so, and now it is getting harder and harder to ask. Lexi may not even ask now, or even refuse to be saved. God speed and good luck. I don't know what else to say.

Well done all4, and thank you for your unique and educated analysis and explanation.
I can’t remember how old their children are, I believe they are maybe 10 and younger? However as Sipho was going down his time line of Jaimie’s changes one year and five years out, it struck me that the demands of their children will either slow or stop Jaimie’s journey or tear their family apart.
Also your explanation of tattoos and their significance is an important reminder of their intense meaning in a Dom/sub relationship. At what point does Jaimie get so tatted up with SIPHO’s marks that she finally figures fuck it and totally sells out and enters Sipho’s orbit completely. Perhaps Ky will keep her around for the kids sake, but the demands on a highly sought after slut and whore of Jaimie’s unique personality, outlook, looks, and talents would put a great degree of demands on her family time.
Perhaps Jaimie sees Joanna as an acceptable substitute for herself. She is already a part time mother to her children, and would appear to be her replacement in Ky’s bed.
At what point does Jaimie seriously look at herself in the mirror in a very sober moment, at the tats, the changes in her hair color and style, and whatever other changes Sipho will demand, and realize all that she is slowly losing? Or is she too far brainwashed to pull back from the edge of personal disaster?
And will enough finally be enough for Ky? When will he finally end the game? And if he does will Jaimie go along??

[ResponsibullCummings]

I agree with all those that are providing Ky the warnings where this is likely going. I would hate for Ky to lose Jaimie. Whether Sippho is charging men to fuck her or using sex with her as a way to increase business dealings with them it seems he is making her into a willing whore and not giving her proper financial compensation. He is over paying her for the work she does in his office but not for the sex. For him to make her agree to more tattoos just to get her friends in the club only to send a stranger to remove her from her friends to fuck her doesn't seem like she should be letting her mark her for it. He is enjoying his ability to turn her into his personalslut without concern for her marriage or children. Is he going to get her addicted to drugs so she will have no choice but to be his whore to support her habit? Who knows but eventually the kids will notice. If they haven't seen the tattoos they will in Florida and at some point in life they will understand the meaning. I hope Ky knows the concern shown here is from genuine caring about his and Jaimee's wellbeing and marriage. I hope it doesn't stop you from telling your story. Too many times over the years people disappear without explanation leaving it up to the members to assume things went south of the posters is too embarrassed to admit it. It's certainly one of the hottest and well written stories to ever appear on the site which is going to encourage a lot of readers to want to encourage things to go further and further.

[Tap]

Ky: Regardless of what kind of agreement Sipho thinks he has with you and Jaimee, neither of you are are obligated to do one thing for him. That includes tatoos. Even if he had drawn up a long, legal looking document purporting to be a contract, and, even if all three of you had signed it, complete with notary seal and verification, and signed by witnesses, it would be totally void as against public policy because it is for an immoral purpose, and, such purported agreements or contracts are always void from their inception. That goes in the UK as well as in the USA.

The only way he has to enforce his so called agreement is by persuasion or threat. His persuasion and cajoling should be firmly refused without giving in even the tiniest bit. If he threatens your safety or hers, or your children's, you have police deal with that, and, you do it without embarrassment. Police have seen it all. They may well have dealt with Sipho before on something similar.

The possible flaw in that solution is that Sipho may have paid police off either in money or in pussy from his whores, hopefully, not your own wife. Assuming the worst case scenario of police corruption, you would seek a white police officer,/s since Sipho appears to share his sex slave/s mainly with black men.

Even if your wife no longer loves you, or, you no longer love your wife, regardless of how you do it, you have a duty to extract your wife from Sipho's evil clutches, forthwith. For the safety of your wife and family, forget your cuck kink right now. Save your wife right now from the disease, drug addiction, self loathing, unwanted pregnancies, beatings, or, even murder that far too many prostitutes suffer.

[wannabecUKold]

Ky. I have been watching your journey for years now. If I have commented, it was many moons ago. The latest developments are a cause for major concern. The game has increased at alarmingly fast speeds. You are driving an F1 car on D rated tires. No bueno.
…..

Very illuminating post.
But the trouble is that the forecast by Sipho of where Jaimee will be in five years time is arousing and credible. One can’t help desiring the beautiful woman to go for it, despite the car crash it will make of her family life. It is like a cult and ownership of her personality. But she could be a star at it.

[DarrenZ]

y'all.

AFAIK, Ky isn't asking for support. He's intentionally relaying things largely from the past for some distance. Embellished or not, I'm thoroughly enjoying his stories and I really don't think he needs a bunch of amatuer Freuds up his ass while he is sharing. I'm not saying you don't have a right to share thoughts and opinions, but, my lord, y'all wonder why he might step away from sharing for months.

Ky, if I'm the one out of line here, please say so. I just find a lot of what is being written about your stories insluting to you and Jaimee.

[Rover68uk]

I tend to dip in and out of here alot of the time, mostly lurking without logging in. However, i had to log in this time to once again thank Ky for allowing us to share his journey, and that of Jaimee/Lexi for that matter.

Whilst we are all here for a reason, a love of the idea or the actual reality of a cuckold relationship/marriage, being given an insight and such detail into the mechanics of the everyday life and the play life is something that is a gift to us all. Add in the time and effort that Ky puts in to inform us, that is above and beyond.

I often find myself torn in reading threads like this. Getting the vicarious pleasure through reading what others are doing, the awe and respect for those living and immersing themselves into "the life" and then a little shame and embarrassment for peeping in at such intimate acts and secrets in a marriage.

I think back to other threads that have disappeared when things have gone really deep (Hercucksql4ve, Deepdownwannabe, Turbo) and recall the almost loss that came when you didnt get an ending. so once again I find myself simply looking to thank Ky for continuing to share,e specially parts where he perhaps knows many on here will push back....But then it's not our life/marriage, even if we are doing so out of a love/concern for him and Jaimee.

Looking back I recall Sipho being totally honest with Ky/Jaimee at the start, sayign he would get into Jaimee's/Lexi's mind and that the psychological aspect would make it more intense. He has been a man of his word. A case of experience and having done it before shows his skill and intelligence and love for power and control..hats off to him aswell.

Long may Ky's posts continue, as every one has to be appreciated as we may never know when they will be the last.

[venus-can99]

Well said Rover68uk and DarrenZ. Hopefully forum readers will listen.

[all4fun]

y'all.

AFAIK, Ky isn't asking for support. He's intentionally relaying things largely from the past for some distance. Embellished or not, I'm thoroughly enjoying his stories and I really don't think he needs a bunch of amatuer Freuds up his ass while he is sharing. I'm not saying you don't have a write to share thoughts and opinions, but, my lord, y'all wonder why he might step away from sharing for months.

Ky, if I'm the one out of line here, please say so. I just find a lot of what is being written about your stories insluting to you and Jaimee.

Freud invented psychoanalysis, which I was always skeptical of, and still am. I am talking more Watson type of shit. Conditioning. Behavioral manipulation. Things that have actually been studied and tested. You can't systematically test Freuds bullshit, it's all theory, but you sure as hell can test, and it has been done, behavioral conditioning people and animals to like, or dislike, enjoy, or fear, certain things.

While Ky is telling this story from pervious events, I don't think we are far off from present day from what I can tell. I think the concern from everyone is that the changes have been drastic since meeting Sipho. They agreed to give Sipho control, and he took it. Is Jaimee in too deep to stop, and is Ky so hooked on the thrill be cannot stop. As Axl Rose sang and has very much summed up their journey over the years.

"I used to do a little but a little wouldn't do it"
"So the little got more and more"

The facts are clear. If you remember Jaimee used to be somewhat conservative. Sipho has marked up Jaimee, in spectacular fashion, and quickly. She dresses different now. He has reinvented her into Lexi. He has benefited from passing her around to many men, maybe financially, maybe just favors, or maybe just for pleasure. He has such control over her now she leaves her husband and friends to go fuck a stranger, if it was only just him that night.

This is all fascinating to watch for any armchair psychologist, and absolutely thrilling for a cuckold type brain.

DarrenZ, you have a point though. I am very much a live let live person. I think most people are. Do and say whatever the fuck you want as long as it does not interfere with my life. For that I want Ky and Jaimee to do whatever they want, but at some point you can actually lose free will with systematic rigorous conditioning.

Ky and Jaimee, or mostly Lexi now?, if you want all of this and understand the consequences, than march on my friends. It's your life, live it the way you want. Just like I would never tell anyone don't free solo, don't fly wingsuits, don't race motorcycles. Just know what you are doing and how it may end up. The warnings are from sheer concern for your entire family's well being. Just know you have support here, people who care no mater what happens.

One positive about this site is that you can share even the most wild of thoughts and actions with people you cannot in your everyday life. So, share away.

[all4fun]

The reason I bring this up is because this company has a very strict dress code. They don’t do business casual—they go all the way and dress nice. We had to sped a few dollars to upgrade her wardrobe, but it was soooooo worth it. She dresses the very conservative part, but underneath she wears the most heart stopping panties and bras. OMG they kill me. She’s taken to wearing very tiny thongs, and there’s nothing better than being able to flip up the back of her skirt, pull that tiny string out of the way, and make her mine again.

“Ky,” she began, “If we start again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. Each time it’s gotten harder and harder to stop… “ she paused in thought for a long minute, “If we decide to play again, and if we push the game further, I don’t know if there will be any coming back from it—I just have this feeling deep down that we’ve been playing a game where we are trying to jump into the water and only get a part of us wet, but each time we play, we get wetter… thinking about it now, it feels like we’re jumping into the deep end of the pool.”

These quotes are taken from 2018, almost seven years ago, when thongs were considered risky and having a boyfriend who shared Jaimee with a few guys was pushing limits. They are not even playing the same game anymore. It's amazing what one can desensitize themselves to over time. If you were to show the 2018 Ky and Jaimee what they would be in 2025 they would not believe you.

This thread is captivating and fascinating, especially for a couple still only playing in the kids sandbox version with a dominating controlling bull.

Okay, I've said my peace. I will now go back to the shadows from whence I came.

Carry on Ky, carry on. We are all anxiously curious.

[Tap]

Darren Z: Even if Ky isn't asking for support, he needs it. I understand that he is voluntarily relaying history, and, I don't think that he has embellished the history that he has related. His story has indicia of authenticity. However, we don't presently know if Sipho is still controlling Jaimee to her detriment, or, if she is even alive. She may have committed suicide for all we know.

I don't pretend to be a neurologist or psychoanalyst as Freud was. I know, however, that Ky does need somebody to crawl up his ass to get him to realize that his wife is at serious risk of many kinds of injury, or, of not even surviving her whoring. He needs to proudly man up for his wife. He needs to stare her pimp, Sipho, directly in the eye, and, tell him that Jaimee has only one name, that she is no longer a whore, that she is coming home with Ky, and, that he, Sipho, shall never contact her again.

[offendedgame]

Thanks for following along and taking the time to comment. I don’t know why I enjoy reading comments so much, but I do, the good and the bad. Regarding intimate conversations, I plan to share some in my upcoming posts. There's a lot I don't write about due to time constraints or because some details don't make for good storytelling. I focus on the highlights, the moments that captivate me. Sometimes I'll combine experiences or shorten timelines to keep the narrative engaging. In other words, there's a lot of communication and groundwork happening behind the scenes that I don't share - you see the duck gliding on the water but not the frantic kicking beneath. That's me, kicking like mad below the surface.

On Jaimee's ability to attract anyone she wants, that's another area where I skip over some experiences. I don't think many would want to read about her rejections, or maybe they would, but I don't find it fun to write about. Truthfully, we've had our share of embarrassing and cringe-worthy moments over the years.

Finally, our relationship with Sipho is very much a give-and-take situation. Yes, he's adept at pushing both Jaimee's and my buttons, and he has his own interests at heart. But it's not all about one person; each of us has needs we want fulfilled. The challenge is in communicating those needs effectively, which has been its own learning curve. Maybe I should write about that too.

These last comments reminded me of something you said a while back.. How do you feel right now? Are you Okay?

[veub]

There is really no reason for the hand-wringing on this thread. We all know what is going to happen.
There will be a defining moment of some kind and Ky and Jaimee will end with Sipho. It might be Ky hooking up with Joanna and Jaimee is pissed about it despite her pushing. Maybe another pregnancy. Maybe some major body alteration - new tits perhaps or just a tattoo that is always visible. Most likely, Sipho gets bored and tosses her away saying the contract has ended.
Then it will be a discussion about how they need to rebuild their relationship and focus on the kids. She will get all the tats removed, except one that will serve to remind her and Ky about this time. She'll probably keep the QOS tattoo.
Finally, Ky will stop posting for a year or so and the cycle will repeat with something a little more intense.

[FamilyCuckold]

y'all.

AFAIK, Ky isn't asking for support. He's intentionally relaying things largely from the past for some distance. Embellished or not, I'm thoroughly enjoying his stories and I really don't think he needs a bunch of amatuer Freuds up his ass while he is sharing. I'm not saying you don't have a write to share thoughts and opinions, but, my lord, y'all wonder why he might step away from sharing for months.

Ky, if I'm the one out of line here, please say so. I just find a lot of what is being written about your stories insluting to you and Jaimee.

Hear fucking hear. Thanks Darren.

[Ky_Da]

Wow, what a flood of comments! I can't possibly respond to each one, but they've all been fun and interesting to read. I do believe many questions will be answered in upcoming posts, so thanks for your patience.

I've spent some time thinking about some of the comments, and I fully understand why some think my marriage is going to end in flames, and my wife will be sold into eternal indentured sexual servitude, and in some ways I'm thankful for them because I do think those comments come from a place of caring and kindness, not out of malice or contempt. And if I were to take an objective look at myself, my situation, the current state of our game and lifestyle, I would probably be equally concerned.

I wouldn't go so far as to say our marriage is a fairy-tale romance where the only thing we worry about is running out of Netflix shows to binge-watch. A bit of fear in marriage? I think it's like having a smoke detector; you hope it never goes off, but you're glad it's there. You can't just kick back and expect love to autopilot; it's more like a garden that needs constant weeding, watering, and the occasional battle with the slugs of life.

Yeah, we've had our share of bumps, more like navigating a road full of potholes than a smooth highway. Sometimes it's been so tough, we've spent hours hashing things out, like diplomats trying to prevent World War III. But, let's keep it real, diving into those personal conversations is like sharing your diary entries from middle school—embarrassing and best left unsaid.

However, I've been mulling over the idea of spilling a few beans. Maybe sharing some of those behind-the-scenes moments could offer a laugh or a lesson. It's on my 'maybe' list.

Also, as some of you have pointed out, I do change names, locations, and tweak events to protect privacy. I'll admit, I'm liberal at times in crafting the narrative—sometimes merging events, compressing timelines, and the like. It's all done to focus on what I want to share in writing, and frankly, I only have so much time. Providing a perfectly accurate account would take years, and I doubt anyone would want to read through that.

Regarding the authenticity of the experiences I share... I'd be fine if someone thought it was pure fiction. In fact, I prefer that because the last thing I want is for anyone to be influenced by what I write and decide to try cuckolding. I've been consistent about this; if I could turn back time, I'd probably steer clear of it myself. I suppose that makes me some kind of hypocrite, but we all have our own demons to wrestle.

To clarify a couple of points: Regarding 'dropping off' my neighbors, that was indeed a poor choice of words. Maybe it's time to fire my editor. It implied I drove them home, when in reality, we used public transport, and I simply bid them goodnight as they entered their flats.

As for my neighbors' reactions to the night's events, it's somewhat anticlimactic. I wish there was more to share. They were more shocked than anything else. They knew about our lifestyle in theory, but witnessing it firsthand gave them a whole new perspective—they truly 'knew' in a way they hadn't before.

After that wild evening, still under the influence of drugs and alcohol, and sexually charged, they were very much focused on each other, paying little attention to me, which I was more than grateful for. I was caught up in my own whirlwind of cuckold angst and was happy to be left to my thoughts.

Since then, I've had a few conversations with the neighbors. They were distant at first but have warmed up over time. It took a few days for them to process what they'd seen and to reconcile with the reality of who lives next door.

One of the trickiest aspects of this game is ensuring it doesn't devolve into mere role-play. It would be a real downer if I had to script out every detail of how I wanted to be denied or cuckolded, essentially telling Jaimee exactly how to proceed. Instead, I've shared the broad strokes of what I'm looking for and then allowed her the freedom to orchestrate the experience. This is where our safe words come into play. I've had to use mine a couple of times since Sipho entered our lives, but I haven't delved into those moments in my writings.

However, the experience at the nightclub, where Jaimee left with Brian, pushed the boundaries of our game into uncharted territory. It was a moment that nearly knocked me off my feet. I'll share some of the conversations Jaimee and I had after that weekend, which should illuminate this further.

One more point... If it were just about Jaimee cuckolding me, this would be all I'd need to say. But Sipho's involvement has stretched Jaimee's limits as well. Many of you might wonder why I haven't used my safe word more often, considering how far things have gone. All I can say is that I've been the one to pull back in the past, and Jaimee has always respected that, allowing me to end the game. This time, we agreed I would try to let things unfold naturally, giving her the reins. We set a timeline to this experiment, extending until our Florida trip in July. Yes, it's gone further than I anticipated, and there have been numerous times I've been on the brink of using my safe word, but I'm committed to letting Jaimee hold the power until our agreed end.

Returning to the night in question, after I 'dropped off' my neighbors, I entered our flat and sat in the dark on the couch for a long time, replaying the night in my mind. I went over the words spoken, the immediate emotions, and pondered the true intentions behind the events of that night.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I allowed myself to fully immerse in the memory for several long minutes. Seated there on the couch, the same spot where I had been with Joanna's legs draped over mine, I indulged in the recollection of that night. My wife's words echoed in my mind, bringing with them a rush of emotions and sensations...

“Go on, Ky,” my wife whispered to me. “Take her.”

What can I say... when confronted with such temptation, there was no turning back for me. Perhaps if I had made a decision beforehand, I might have resisted, but the idea had been simmering in my mind for too long. Now, with the temptation laid out before me like a forbidden fruit, ripe for the taking, I fell.

I placed the palm of my hand over the thick, red bush above her glistening slit. At my touch, Joanna's body twitched, her breathing becoming rapid. Turning my head, I met her gaze, her features painted with a blend of expected nervousness and undeniable desire. Our eyes locked, and she gave me a subtle nod, a silent consent that somehow, impossibly, fueled my lust even more.

With deliberate slowness, I ran my thumb over her engorged lips, coaxing more blood to the surface, watching as her flesh responded to my touch. I knew from Jaimee's diary entries that Joanna was no stranger to intimacy; she had a long-term boyfriend in sixth form and scattered lovers during her early university years. Still, the woman draped over my lap was nearly two decades my junior, and my conscience wrestled with the reality even as I slipped the tip of my thumb between her vaginal lips, spreading her natural lubricant with a liberal stroke.

The sensation was electric, her body's response an unmistakable invitation into this new, thrilling territory. I shifted myself down the couch, while my wife moved to kneel beside Joanna's breasts. Lowering my head between her pale thighs, I inhaled deeply. My senses were immediately met with a scent that was distinctly Joanna's. Unlike my wife's familiar musk, which was sharp and intoxicating like the first sip of a fine whiskey, Joanna's aroma was softer, more floral, something more delicate, like the first warm day in early spring in a mountainous meadow.

I knew I should tease Joanna, drawing her to the edge of ecstasy, letting her desire build to a fever pitch over several torturous minutes. But my own desire was a wild, untamed beast, refusing to be restrained any longer. I lowered my mouth to her opening, my tongue delving deep within her, savoring her sweetness with an urgency that mirrored my lust. Joanna let out an audible gasp, her body arching in response, as my wife, with a sensual grace, took one of Joanna's pert nipples into her mouth over the thin fabric of the shirt, the dual sensation catapulting Joanna into a combination of pleasure.

"Ah, bloody brilliant!" Joanna breathed out, her voice a mix of shock and delight.

I continued my exploration, my tongue dancing over her clit in a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart. Each flick, each swirl, was met with a crescendo of moans from Joanna, her hands tangling in my hair, urging me on. Jaimee, meanwhile, continued to tease Joanna's nipples through the fabric, her teeth gently grazing, adding layers to Joanna's mounting pleasure.

The buildup was exquisite, a slow climb towards an inevitable peak. When Joanna's orgasm finally broke, it was like watching a storm unleashed. Her legs began to shake, trembling with the force of her release, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. "Oh fuck, yes!" she cried out, her voice a blend of ecstasy and surrender.

As her legs continued to twitch, I couldn't wait any longer. I shifted, my movements eager yet deliberate, shedding my trousers and positioning myself on my knees between her still quivering thighs. The sight of her, flushed and panting, was almost too much.

I guided myself to her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her slick, welcoming heat. As I entered her, the sensation was overwhelming. "Fuck, Joanna, you're so goddamn tight," I grunted, the words escaping in a mix of awe and raw desire. Her tightness was a contrast to the soft, velvet-like embrace I was accustomed to with Jaimee, a different world of sensation that was both shocking and exhilarating.

Each thrust was met with resistance, her body gripping me like a vice, pulling me deeper, making me feel every inch of her. The year of scarcity had made every touch, every sensation, magnified, but this—this was beyond what my imagination could have conjured. It was like sinking into a new reality, where every nerve ending was alight with pleasure.

"Ky, you feel... amazing," Joanna gasped, her words interspersed with moans, her hands clawing at my back, urging me on. The contrast between the vulgarity of our actions and the beauty of her response was intoxicating. I moved with a fervor I hadn't known in so long, each push into her a testament to my pent-up desire, her body responding with an eagerness that matched my own.

The room was filled with the sounds of our lovemaking, a cacophony of grunts, moans, and the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. It was raw, it was beautiful, and it was unlike anything I had experienced before. Here, with Joanna, I was rediscovering parts of myself I thought had been lost to routine, rediscovering the joy of being utterly, completely consumed by another person.

As I took Joanna, the room shifted in focus, not just because of the overwhelming sensation but because of what was happening around us. Jaimee, with a graceful movement, shed her bra and panties, revealing her body in its raw, inked glory. She then crawled onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, with Joanna's head resting on her lap like a soft pillow. From my position, I had a panoramic view of both women, an erotic tableau that heightened every feeling.

Jaimee's body was a canvas of our lifestyle; the spade tattoo on her breast, a symbol of our shared kinks, stood out against her skin, the initials 'SI' tattooed on her inner wrist, a mark of her submission to Sipho, and the heavy nipple rings that dangled provocatively, catching the light with every breath she took.

The line between Jaimee and Lexi had become so blurred that discerning where one ended and the other began was nearly impossible. My once young, sweet, innocent, and cute-looking wife had evolved into a stunningly beautiful woman, now liberated, boldly exploring the depths of her sexuality in ways that few would ever dare.

It was a transformation so profound that it challenged me to reconcile the image of the woman I had married with the audacious, sensual being before me, navigating a landscape of desire that was both thrilling and foreign. Some might label her merely as another man's whore, a servant to the desires of others as well as her own, but beneath all that, I still saw my wife.

We had always been on the brink of fully exploring our sexual boundaries, but I would often pull back, spooked by the unknown. Now, however, I was determined not to stop prematurely. I was already so far beyond my comfort zone, so deeply into this experience, that the thought of slowing down was not just difficult; it felt almost impossible. The challenge wasn't in finding the willpower to eventually apply the brakes, but in mustering the desire to do so.

As I moved within Joanna, my eyes couldn't help but drift to Jaimee's pussy, the only one I had known intimately until now. It was a familiar sight, yet tonight it felt like a marker of how far we had come, how much our lives had changed.

The realization that this was the first time I was entering another woman since meeting Jaimee sent a thrill through me, a mix of guilt, excitement, and a profound sense of stepping into uncharted territory. I wondered where this road would ultimately lead us, knowing full well the game we were playing was as dangerous as it was intoxicating. But the fire running through me was undeniable, a blaze that wouldn't let me stop. I didn't want to stop.

With each thrust into Joanna's tight embrace, I was both here in this moment and reflecting on the journey that had brought us here. Jaimee's gaze was on me, her eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and curiosity, her hands gently stroking Joanna's hair, grounding us all in this shared experience. The sight of her, the feel of Joanna, it was all part of a new chapter, one where the boundaries of love, desire, and fidelity were being rewritten with each passing second.

The walls of Joanna's pussy clenched and spasmed around my cock with her orgasm, each convulsion sending electric shocks through me. The sensation of driving her to climax was my undoing; it propelled me into my own release, an ecstasy so intense it bordered on the edge of pain. My balls ached with the force of my ejaculation, a sweet agony that blurred the line between pleasure and pain for a heart-pounding few seconds. Spent, I let myself relax, my body heavy with satisfaction.

I leaned forward to kiss Jaimee, seeking the familiar comfort of her lips. But she held the kiss only for a moment, her eyes dancing with mischief before she gently guided my head down to Joanna. The experience of kissing another woman was a revelation; Joanna's lips were different, softer, and still quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her kiss was voracious, hungry, her mouth meeting mine with an eagerness that spoke of her own lingering pleasure, her tongue exploring mine with a fervor that was both new and intoxicating.

As our lips locked, I heard Jaimee's squeal of glee, a sound filled with delight and encouragement, her joy in this moment adding another layer to the already thick atmosphere of arousal. Joanna's kiss was like tasting a new, forbidden fruit, her breath hot and fast, her lips swollen from our passion.

I shook myself from the memory, pulling back into the present. That night, at my wife's behest, I had taken Joanna to her room, leaving the master bedroom for Jaimee, and I unleashed myself on her with a fervor that matched my pent-up desires. I felt guilty for using Joanna in such a way, using her as an outlet for my long-built sexual tension. It wasn't love; there was no making love. It was purely carnal, a physical release.

Since that night, I had imposed a no-go policy on myself, avoiding the temptation of Joanna's room despite her evident openness to more. We had broached the subject several times, each conversation peeling back layers of my conflicted feelings, which she seemed to understand with a surprising depth.

But here, in the early morning hours, sitting alone on the couch, a fierce, undeniable desire overtook me. My eyes, of their own volition, found themselves drawn to the closed door of Joanna's bedroom. Despite knowing the early hour and that she was likely asleep, the primal part of my brain refused to heed reason. It was as if an invisible thread pulled me forward, and before I knew it, I was standing, moving silently towards her room, driven by a need that was as compelling as it was dangerous.

I knocked on Joanna's door as I opened it, allowing the dim hallway light to spill into the bedroom, casting soft shadows over her sleeping form. She hadn't stirred, her figure a gentle rise under the covers. I stood there, feeling like an intruder, like some kind of stalker in my own home.

The realization hit me hard; this was wrong on so many levels, yet here I was, driven by a primal, almost shameful lust. The thought came to me, I was nothing more than a nanny fucker. I felt fucking low, on the brink of turning away, when Joanna rolled towards me, her eyes squinting against the light.

"Ky?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep, her hair a wild, untamed mess that somehow made her look adorable rather than beautiful. She sat up, her surprise evident. "What are ye doin' here? Are the kids alright? Do ye need me to get up?"

I shook my head, apologizing. "I'll explain in the morning. I'm sorry for waking you." I turned to leave, my conscience screaming at me to retreat, but her voice stopped me.

"Come in, Ky," she said, scooting over on the bed, patting the space beside her. My apologies were weak against her insistence, her voice gentle yet firm. I sat down, the memory of the last time here flooding back.

"Is everything okay? What about Jaimee?" she asked, her concern seeping through the drowsiness.

"Jaimee left with me," I began, the words heavy, "but Lexi... she left with another man."

Joanna's expression softened with understanding. "Do ye want to lie down? Might help if ye're not feelin' alone."

I nodded, sliding under the warm covers next to her. She wiggled closer, her body's heat a comforting contrast to the cool air. As I recounted the evening, her fingers began to trace idle circles on my thigh, moving with a subtle intention towards my crotch. My belt loosened under her touch, her hand slipping down the front of my trousers, finding me already hard.

Her touch was electric, my breath catching as she stroked me, each movement bringing me closer to the edge. I was so fucking close, her hands working a magic that was both torturous and divine.

We talked for twenty minutes, my story winding down as her face neared mine. Her breath mingled with mine, and in a moment of weakness and desire, I closed the distance, our lips crashing together in a kiss that was desperate, hungry, like we were lovers parted for years. Our need was palpable, unapologetic. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, her squeal of laughter muffled against my skin.

I pulled off her thin sleeping shirt, my mouth finding her breast, my tongue circling her nipple, savoring her response, the way she arched into me. I tugged her panties down, moving down her body, driven by an insatiable hunger to taste her again. Her flavor hit me like a drug, intensifying my lust to an almost painful degree. I wanted to fuck her right then, but I forced myself to stay, to give her pleasure, though my own need was selfish, demanding.

Her orgasm came with a cry, her body trembling under my ministrations, her hands in my hair, guiding me. I moved up, entering her with a thrust that was both relief and agony. I came quickly, the release explosive, but I didn't soften; my desire still burned. I kept moving, her heavy breathing, her moans guiding me, telling me exactly what she liked. Her vocal affirmations stoked my confidence, made me feel fucking powerful in this moment of shared pleasure.

"Fuck, Ky, just like that," she gasped, her encouragement a siren's call to keep going. I loved how she responded, each sound, each grip of her body around me affirming my ability to please her. In this moment, nothing else mattered - not the complications, not the future, just the raw, visceral connection we shared.

I knew it would be a long time before Jaimee would respond to me like this again, if ever. But here, with Joanna, I was lost in the now, in the undeniable, carnal truth of our bodies together.

I came again, the sensation of spilling into Joanna's pussy without a condom both reckless and exhilarating. I knew she was on the pill, so the fear of pregnancy was somewhat alleviated, but the thought of it, of crossing that line, sent a shiver through me. I didn't need to pull an Arnold and get the nanny pregnant; it had spelled disaster for his marriage. Spent and breathless, I lay next to her, our bodies slick with sweat, the room filled with the scent of sex.

We talked in hushed tones, but Joanna was far from sated. Her hand found its way back to me, her fingers teasing, coaxing, until I was hard again, my body betraying any notion of being done for the night. I moved to take her again, expecting the familiar missionary, but she had other ideas. Rolling onto her belly, she lifted her hips, presenting herself to me, looking at me over her shoulder, an invitation I couldn't ignore. Her opening was at the perfect height, and I slid into her, her moan a beautiful, haunting sound in the quiet of the night.

As my pace quickened, she pushed up onto her hands, arching her back, offering her body to me in a way that was both submission and command. "Take my hair, Ky," she demanded, her voice a mix of desire and challenge. "Take me. Show me what you want."

I wrapped her hair around my fist, pulling gently at first, gauging her response. Her reaction was immediate, a gasp that turned into a moan, urging me for more. I pulled harder, and her cries grew louder, each one stoking the fire within me. There was something about this position, about holding her by the hair, the control it gave me, that made me feel powerful, dominant in a way I hadn't felt in so long. It was intoxicating, this heady feeling of power over her pleasure.

I fucked her harder, the rhythm of our bodies coming into sync. After minutes of relentless pace, her arms gave way, and she collapsed forward, her chest pressed into the mattress, her moans muffled against the sheets. I released her hair, my hands finding her hips, those curvier, more generous than my wife's, allowing me to grip handfuls of flesh, pulling her back onto me with each thrust.

In this moment, she felt like a vessel for my desires, a sex toy in the most consensual, mutual way, her pleasure evident in her moans that now filled the room. Each thrust was met with her body's eager response, her pussy gripping me, her back arching to meet me, driving me deeper. The sight of her, so willingly submitting, her body shaking with each impact, was a feast for my senses, my lust rekindled with each sound she made, each movement she responded with. It was raw, it was real, and in this moment, nothing else existed but the two of us, lost in a world of our own making, where pleasure was the only currency we traded in.

Exhausted, coming down from a heady mix of emotions, ecstasy, and lust, I drifted into sleep. I didn't rouse until late in the morning, stirred by the sound of my boys rough-housing downstairs. With a reluctant groan, I peeled myself from Joanna's bed, my mind immediately flooded with memories of our night. My body responded with an eager twitch, craving more of her, almost urging me to pull her back into the sheets. But then, like a cold splash of water, thoughts of my wife intruded, causing my stomach to lurch. What was Jaimee up to? Was she under the tattoo needle again, getting another 'decoration'? That familiar wave of lust washed over me, forcing me to sit back down on the bed for a moment to gather my thoughts.

I pushed myself forward, heading to my room to dress before going downstairs to join my kids. I listened to their animated tales from the night before, grateful for the simple joy of having them near me. Then, Joanna entered from the kitchen, her appearance a stark contrast to our earlier encounter. She was dressed in what could only be described as the quintessential English housewife attire for a Saturday morning—wearing a floral-patterned, knee-length A-line dress, cinched at the waist with a modest apron tied over it. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she had on comfortable, practical slippers. The transformation from the night's wild passion to this domestic scene was so striking, it momentarily stunned me, my brain seizing up before attempting to reboot. It felt like I'd slipped into an alternate universe for a moment.

As Joanna walked in, our eyes met, a silent acknowledgment of the night before passing between us. There was a tinge of shyness, perhaps even embarrassment, in the air. I wasn't sure how she felt about it all, if there were any regrets lingering behind those eyes. I assumed she was in a similar boat, caught between the thrill and the awkwardness.

"You still planning on heading to your parents this weekend?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation towards more familiar ground.

"Nah, I've decided to put that off, ye know," Joanna replied as she sat down beside me, our daughter immediately clambering onto her lap. "Figured I'd stick around here a bit longer."

"That'd be nice," I said, appreciating her company more than I expected. "Jaimee won't be back until late, I reckon."

"Aye, well, the boys have their football match today, don't they?" Joanna reminded me, her eyes twinkling with the fun of it all.

"I remember," I chuckled. "Want to come along to cheer them on?"

"Sure, I'd love to," she agreed, her smile genuine, lighting up her face in a way that made the morning feel a bit less awkward.

We sat there, the conversation meandering as our daughter played with Joanna's apron strings. "I still can't get over the story you told last night," she admitted, her voice low so the kids wouldn't hear. "It's the hottest thing I've ever heard, though I've no desire to dive into all that myself."

I laughed, a bit relieved. "Yeah, it's quite the tale. Definitely not for everyone."

"With me parents being... you know (swingers) and all, ye'd think I'd be all for it," Joanna said with a wry grin, reaching out to braid my daughter's hair. "But I think I've had me fill of being 'out there' from just listening to their stories."

We both laughed, the tension easing. "So, you're saying you're a bit tame compared to your folks?" I teased.

"A bit, aye. Maybe just a smidgen of wildness, not the whole bloody circus," she retorted, her laughter infectious.

Our talk shifted to lighter topics; we debated whether the new corner shop's sausage rolls were better than the old one's, and Joanna shared a hilarious mishap with the washing machine. It was easy, this banter, the kind that makes you forget the weight of the world for a moment.

[Goodboy66]

Wow Ky, excellent post.

[elina]

Thanks Ky,

Truly appreciate your thoughtfull update,
just one comment:

Regarding the authenticity of the experiences I share... I'd be fine if someone thought it was pure fiction. In fact, I prefer that because the last thing I want is for anyone to be influenced by what I write and decide to try cuckolding. I've been consistent about this; if I could turn back time, I'd probably steer clear of it myself. I suppose that makes me some kind of hypocrite, but we all have our own demons to wrestle.

I strongly disagree that this makes you "some kind of hypocrite"

Life has got to be lived going forward, but can only be understood looking backwards.
Your statement here only shows that you are developing an understanding which is likely to impact your choices going forward. The consequences of what happened in the past is something we can sometimes deal with and always have to live with.

In that perspective I think you telling the essence of your story, and of course you should leave certain details out and change others to enhance your privacy, in a way which enables the reades to see the essence of the good, the bad, the ugly is hopefully valuable to lots of othters who this way may be able to learn from your story in stead of having to do everything themselves...

Thanks

Sincerely
elina

[coastalkid]

Thanks for the replies to comments and addressing the things you felt compelled to. It really does help sort it out.

And thanks for the "Joanna" installment. I like how you contrast her with Lexi (and not so much Jaimee). You make her sound almost "homespun" "housewife-ish", but horny too! Brilliant!

[venus-can99]

Thaks Ky for the excellent update. Very well written as always...

[DarrenZ]

Darren Z: Even if Ky isn't asking for support, he needs it. I understand that he is voluntarily relaying history, and, I don't think that he has embellished the history that he has related. His story has indicia of authenticity. However, we don't presently know if Sipho is still controlling Jaimee to her detriment, or, if she is even alive. She may have committed suicide for all we know.

I don't pretend to be a neurologist or psychoanalyst as Freud was. I know, however, that Ky does need somebody to crawl up his ass to get him to realize that his wife is at serious risk of many kinds of injury, or, of not even surviving her whoring. He needs to proudly man up for his wife. He needs to stare her pimp, Sipho, directly in the eye, and, tell him that Jaimee has only one name, that she is no longer a whore, that she is coming home with Ky, and, that he, Sipho, shall never contact her again.

Jesus Christ, man. Did you even read what you wrote before you hit submit? Where the fuck do you get off telling him what he “needs” to do? Get a grip.

[Cuckcuckgoose1]

One cliffhanger followed up on. Excellent Ky. Now....about Jaimee's journal...I mean Lexi's journal. What's in it? Come on now KY spill the beans. What depravity has Lexi sink into lately?

[scdiver]

I am still curios to know what was done to Lexi and when she came home.

[Tap]

DarrenZ: Purring kittens and warm puppies to you.

[false-abroad]

Ky: I send you my kind regards.

One cliffhanger followed up on. Excellent Ky. Now....about Jaimee's journal...I mean Lexi's journal. What's in it? Come on now KY spill the beans. What depravity has Lexi sink into lately?

Now I wonder if Ky has read the whole thing. For example did Lexi mentioned the previous visit to the club from the last revelations? Though I am quite sure he did read the whole thing and maybe it was even mentioned, but in a way that doesn't make it recognizable in any way.

[Goodboy66]

Would Ky use the 'safe word' if Sipho was to say Joanne is out of bounds?