The C Word

Not that C word. Not chastity either.

Cuckolding. Cuckold. Cuckoldress. Cucky, as I’m not sometimes affectionately called (sometimes mockingly).

It wasn’t part of the initial plan. In fact, it was something that Miss E was adamant she did not want. This was our thing, our relationship, and she saw no need, had no desire, to expand it to include another..or others. The thought of adding a stranger into the mix, into her bed, into our sex lives was a non-starter. And then, it wasn’t.

Limits, boundaries, areas of disinterest…..these have been fluid. Very fluid, like whitewater rapid fluid. An idea that gets an “ew” one week is suddenly on the list a week or two later. So it was with cuckolding. From no to….well….of course, that makes perfect sense…..in a matter of about two weeks.

This has been part of the delay in posting. This has been a crazy month. Post on fetlife looking for a bull (or bulls). Find candidates. Screen. Meet. Step aside and watch as she realizes exactly how much she’s been missing all these years. Once that taboo is broken, once those kinds of realizations have been made, there is no going back. The genie is not going back in that bottle.

How has it been? Well….easy. And hard. And fast. She’s out right now, in fact, at her bulls house. It’s so easy. So casual. Two or three times a week, he comes here, or she goes there, a few hours go by, she returns, sweaty, aching, full of cum and satisfied. I sit here, caged, minding the dogs, tidying up the house a little, catching up on work.

I struggle with how easily I’ve been replaced….improved upon, even. I struggle with how her energy is now focused on him. I struggle with being second. I struggle with seeing him doing things I’m no longer allowed to do….orgasm inside of her, for one. I struggle seeing him doing things I’ve always wanted to do, and she was never interested in. But she loves it now. She loves all of it. And I’m the good cuck, encouraging, supportive, setting up the dates, helping to feed her need, taking care of her when she gets home.

For a brief window I wondered whether I should try and limit the activities….after all, what she had initially wanted was someone with more stamina..or a bigger cock…or both. Not the extra-curriculars. I could do those, couldn’t I? Why can’t I tie her up? Why can’t I spank or flog her? I’m certainly capable of that? But as it turns out, those kinds of things are out of the realm of a cucks abilities. They don’t carry the same excitement factor, and I no longer carry the same authority I may once have.

I’m the cuck. I’m the submissive. I support her, I encourage her, and I take whatever is left. I’m not sure how it happened really, but here we are, and there’s no going back.