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by Ky_Da » Sun Nov 11, 2018 10:07 am
You know, this forum is really starting to cause me some grief…
For one, Xleg’s story is very much paralleling our own experience, so some of the fictious ideas he’s written about have served as idea generators for my wife. Then, you add to that some of your comments and ‘suggestions’ written on my thread, and it only reinforces those ideas. Finally, I’ve really tried to expose my truest and deepest feelings in writing my experiences, but those too have added fuel to my wife’s fire. I feel like a raw nerve hanging out naked in a hurricane.
For example, one post from Mycall threw out an idea that fucking rocked my little world. I read it while I was at work on Friday but got distracted with some work and forgot about it until I got home. I didn’t think to talk to my wife about it, but she does fucking read this shit on occasion, and lately she’s been reading it a lot more. So, when I got home Friday night, she had a look in her eye and I knew something was up. I’ll circle back to what happened in a minute.
Lately, I’ve been expressing a little bit of my experience while wearing the cage. And yes, I did admit that wearing it did help with a little forced self-control. I’m finding that I’m very susceptible to going deep down the rabbit hole and losing all restraint on my desires. Wearing the cage doesn’t leave me with any choice but to have more control. My wife was more than a little giddy to hear that. To her, it sounds like I’m admitting that I like the cage—at least that’s what she’s hearing.
I’ve stated before that I like to write and post here because it helps me work through my own thoughts. This is still true. It really does help, but it’s also a process. So much of this is still new and I don’t know whether I like it or not. I’ve tried some new things, and I’ve found some things that I like, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that I want to be locked up until my dick withers away and falls off from lack of use.
The cock cage and sucking cock are two things that my wife wants to implement a lot more into our game. Being replaced sexually is a subject that I’ve been thinking about more and more. I’ve written this before, but I’ll say it again, I do fear that my wife will see me differently if I started sucking a guy’s cock. I tried it once, even though my wife says it didn’t really count because I was so bad at it, and she isn’t treating me any differently for having tried it. The fear of losing my wife’s respect and love far outweighs the social programing I have about sucking another man’s cock. But I’m starting to see that she wasn’t just talking. She really doesn’t see me any differently. If anything, she’s been happier for having seen me do it. I’m not sure if I’m making a lot of sense here. What I’m trying to say is that this whole thing is a process—maybe even describing it as an evolution would be accurate.
As I think more about this evolution, and about where it leads to in the future, I can’t help but find more things to worry about—more things to be concerned about. I’ve read a few stories on here where the thought of being replaced sexually became a strong driver to the husband and wife. Of course, Xleg’s current story has this element to it, but so do several others. To me, this seems like the most extreme end of cuckolding. Sorry to be cliché, but the drug analysis works so well to describe this. A drug user has to use more and more product to get the same high, right? They become addicted as they chase that high of highs, but their systems build a tolerance that makes it more and more difficult. The same can be said for the cuckold. They experience this high as they have these experiences, but they have to escalate the experiences all the time in order to feel that same high.
I’ve realized how true this is lately because I no longer feel much angst when my wife is with her boyfriend. Don’t misunderstand, I still enjoy watching it, and I get a great deal of pleasure from it. But I no longer feel that deep angst like I did in the beginning. It’s become too familiar and my tolerance has escalated. The feeling of deep powerful angst is one that feels like my whole chest is being squeezed. To me, that feeling has become something that I crave and one that I want more and more, but my wife having a boyfriend doesn’t give me all that it used to. Adding the elements of a cock cage and cock sucking aren’t quite the same. Those add a degree of humiliation and submission, and are powerful feelings, but not as strong as the angst used to be. To make another drug comparison, some people like meth, others like heroine, and still others cocaine. They all have their drug of choice. They can use those other drugs and feel the effect, but it’s not quite what they like most. Ideally, I’d stick with the feeling of angst, but that feeling is harder and harder to find. I did feel it though in a very powerful way when my wife came home from the wedding in the UK.
When she got home and we were having sex one night, she was working every position to get herself off, but nothing was able to scratch that itch. I wasn’t able to give my little size-queen that full, stretched feeling she craved. I wasn’t able to satisfy her as deeply as her boyfriend. This became evident when I watched him fuck her that following day. To see the look of deep satisfaction on her face as he rammed his impressive girth into her well-stretched pussy filled me with a level of angst I hadn’t felt in a while. I’ve been asking myself the question, ‘am I being replaced sexually?’ Is this where this is headed? There was a story in the Library title, “It’s Happened.” This was another story that went to the extreme of being sexually replaced. It ended a while ago, and probably in disaster, but it was an interesting read for a while. I know that anything taken too far will end badly, so the trick of it is to find your boundaries.
Boundaries and limits are something we’ve been talking about a lot. It’s so easy when your head is swimming in the cuckold haze to want more and more and more until you overdose and lose it all. There has to be breaks when you can come back to reality and get out of the haze for a while and realize it’s just a game. There is real life happening around you and you don’t want to miss it. Holding my wife on the couch and listening to music, talking, imagining her pregnant belly swell with our child… those are powerful feelings as well, and they don’t leave an empty hole in your heart when they end. Instead, they leave warmth and love and security. That’s the problem with the game. It’s like sugar, or caffeine. It’s a high, but then you crash afterward because it’s not the healthiest thing.
That being said, my wife loved the idea of adding the cock cage and timed orgasms into our game. Mycall’s suggestion what just what she was had been looking for, so nice job… *dripping sarcasm*
One thing I’ve learned about the game is that it never quite goes the direction you think it will.
Last night when we went to bed… “Ryann asked me if I’ve slept with her boyfriend,” my wife said to me, referring to Bennett’s new girlfriend, as I laid in bed almost falling asleep. Needless to say, I was awake instantly. She continued unprompted, “we went out for sushi today, and I could tell there was something she wanted to talk about—it took her a bit, yeah. But she eventually asked me if we’ve slept together—she’s not only intelligent, Ky. She’s very observant.”
Ryann’s got a master’s degree in psychology, and she works as a school counselor, so yeah, she’s a sharp one, but that didn’t matter to me at that moment. “What did you tell her?” I swear I could feel my heart beat in my eyeballs just then. This shit just got real.
She was quiet for a long moment and my heart beat harder and harder. “What could I say?” she finally said, “I couldn’t lie to her.” I sat up. I was seriously like a second away from losing my shit. “I told her the truth, but I told her that we haven’t slept together since they started dating.”
“And?” I blurted after she didn’t volunteer anymore.
“And, that’s all. I told her the truth.”
“But what did she say about us? Did she think you were cheating on me? What did you tell her about us?” I implored.
“Oh, I told her we mess about sometimes and that you’ve even sucked his cock once,” she admitted. I felt a cold like the room had just plummeted 50 degrees. I seriously felt like I wanted to vomit. “Bloody hell, Ky. Are you alright?” she asked when she noticed me turn nearly white. I couldn’t talk. I was literally speechless. That’s when the little twat started laughing her ass off. That little shit had done it to me again.
“So, you didn’t tell her about me sucking his cock,” I finally managed to spit out. She was laughing hard enough that tears were streaming down her cheeks. She’s a cruel mistress sometimes, haha.
She shook her head and finally said, “No, I was just taking the mickey.” She was trying to take deep, calming breathes and not break into another fit of laughter. I still hadn’t found it funny yet. “Besides,” she went on, “I’ve already told you what you did didn’t count. You only put it in your mouth like it was lump of hot coal or something.”
I felt my body deflate as the tension bled out, “Fuck, you got me.”
She smiled and laughed, “Don’t worry, cuck-boy. Your cock sucking skills, as pathetic as they are, are our secret for now.”
“For now?” I asked. She just gave me a shirk. “Jaimee, this is just a game remember. I have no desire to tell anyone what we like to do.”
She nodded, “It is a fun game, yeah,” she said, “But I think Ryann suspects something about her boyfriend and us. I can see it in her eyes.”
“It’s just your wishful thinking, babe. I know you want to go down on her,” I said, probing, hopeful to glean something new.
“I want to do a lot more than that,” she said almost without thinking.
“I wouldn’t mind watching that,” I added hopefully.
She shot me a look, her eyes narrowed, “See, Ky. This is what I’m talking about. You get turned on by thinking of me licking Ryann’s pussy. Well, it’s the same for me. I get turned on thinking of you sucking my boyfriend’s cock.”
“You want me to give Wade a BJ?” I asked.
“You can be so bloody thick sometimes, you know that, right?” she asked. “Yes, Ky. I want to see you wrap you lips around his gorgeous shaft while you gaze longingly into his beautiful eyes,” she giggled and smiled at me.
“You’re just adding the look-into-the-eyes bit from Xleg’s story,” I blurted out.
She shrugged, “Bloody brilliant idea though, isn’t it?”
“Fucking no!” I cried. “It’s hard enough to even think about sucking some guys cock, looking him into the eyes takes it to a whole other level.” I noticed that she was now staring daggers at me. She had gone from being very pleased with herself to being very pissed off at me. “What?” I asked.
“I know you don’t want to do it, and I probably have pushed more than I should. But you don’t need to yell at me for telling you my fantasies. It’s not supposed to work like that,” she scolded me.
Ouch, that really stung. I realized that I had been speaking very forcefully. “You’re right,” I admitted, making sure my voice was calmer. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing short of amazing at playing the game, and I’ve been the one to let my insecurities ruin things.”
Her features softened, “Look, Ky. I will stop playing the game the minute you use your safeword. If you want to stop, I’ve already told you that you hold the power here. I’ll stop. But I know you want to play. I do to. I know and love that you want to let me have these experiences. I know how lucky I am to have you and you make my sex life better than I ever thought as possible,” she explained. I was floored by her genuine sincerity. “I want to make the game good for you, but a lot of times I feel very selfish. You’ve given me so much, so I already feel bad for wanting you to do something you don’t really want to do… sorry, my emotions are all over the place right now.”
I sat there for a long few minutes trying to make sense of what she said, “I understand the basic premise, but I feel like there’s more you want to say.”
She looked at me very seriously and then surprised me by giving me her safeword. This isn’t something that happens often. I’m usually the one to use it. “Putting the game aside for a minute,” she began. “This is just me and you now. I want to talk.” I nodded. She really did have all of my attention. “I like our game, and the more we play it, the more I like it. In the beginning, I thought we would play for a time, and then stop… but the longer we play, the more I can’t imagine wanting to stop. I like having sex with Wade, and it’s gotten really good with Bennett, too. Ky, I think I’ve learned enough about what you like that I could make your dick explode, but I’m not sure you could handle it, so I back off.”
I was a second away from denying that I couldn’t take it, but I think she was right. She’s pushed me to the very edge of my comfort zone on a few occasions.
She went on, her voice soft. She looked so vulnerable, “Ky, I’ve been thinking… I’ve been playing the part of being the slutty wife,” she touched her stomach, “I haven’t wanted to make the hard decisions. I haven’t wanted to stop having sex with Wade. I like the way things are at the gym. I like my friends there. I like working out there… I don’t want to lose that part of my life.”
I wasn’t understanding what she was driving at. “You don’t have to give that up. I’ve never asked you to.”
“I know, but there’s part of me that wishes that you had. I’m too weak to do it. Ky, everyone that’s a regular at the gym knows I’m pregnant—all my friends there know I’m pregnant… and they all think the baby is Wade’s. And… and it’s been a huge turn on to let them think that.”
I hadn’t actually been thinking about the gym much in a while. It’s become so routine in her life that it hasn’t been on my radar lately. I know she works out there. I know she has friends there. I know she occasionally fucks her boyfriend there. But I hadn’t really thought much about it and her being pregnant. This revelation almost red-lined my angst meter.
“What is it, Ky?” my wife asked when I didn’t respond.
I explained that I hadn’t thought about them knowing and then said, “the thought that they think it’s Wade’s baby is erotic as hell.”
“You’re such a git,” she said, slapping my upper arm, “you’re as weak as I am. You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”
“Sshhh,” I quieted her, “let me enjoy this for a minute,” I joked, trying to hold on to that delicious angst that had just filled me.
“I’m being serious, Ky,” she half whined, “What should we do?”
Damn, I hate having to be serious sometimes. I forced my feelings aside and tried to think rationally—as hard as that was at the moment, “Do you want me to put an end to it? You want me to be the bad guy and forbid you from going to the gym again?”
Her face scrunched, so fucking adorable, and she broke eye contact with me, “No, I don’t want that. I like it too much.”
“Alright then, let’s just take this week at a time and see how it goes then. We talk each week about the gym, and if anything starts getting weird, or we’re not feeling good about it. I’ll be the bad guy and end it.”
She nodded and her face relaxed, “I like that.”
Since that conversation, my angst meter has been running higher than normal. I said in the beginning of this update, which is something I started writing a few days ago, that I was having a hard time feeling the same angst I used to in the past. But thinking about all the scenarios that are playing out at the gym, and will continue to play out at the gym, have given me a whole new injection of angst. My wife will start to show soon, and it will be even more obvious to those around her that she’s pregnant. She and Wade are still openly affectionate at the gym, so of course people are going to think that not only are they together, but that the baby is his. And this says nothing to the fact that there’s a small chance it really is his. What a fucking head game that would be! Letting myself think about that possibility would provide an endless supply of angst, but other than writing the occasional comment on here about it, I don’t like to entertain the thought of another man being the bio father of my child. If it were to happen, I’ll deal with it in the right way, but I’m thankful that my wife doesn’t include that type of play in our game. It would be too much for me to handle and I think she knows that.
As I’m writing this, now being Sunday morning, I’m doing so while wearing the cage. It feels a little more normal this time—maybe familiar is the right word. The time it’ll be left on is still open to discussion. We’ll be talking about that more later today once my wife is up and about. She’s taking a nap at the moment. She wasn’t feeling all that well this morning and was in a bad mood even while drinking her morning tea. I was happily typing away on this update when she declared that I was paying more attention to my ‘pervy friends’ than I was to her, and if I wanted to keep writing, I needed to do so while wearing the cage so I wouldn’t be wanking all day. In my defense, I wasn’t neglecting her, she’s in one of those leave-me-alone moods at the moment, but I wasn’t going to debate her on that. It was easier just to let her put it on.
I’ve got more to discuss, but I need to get onto other things for the day.
Have a good day my pervy friends.