Wonderful Life With My Gorgeous Hotwife (revisited)

[john jasson]

I can’t believe she doesn’t develop an emotional attachment to him over time.
Great writing. Intense

Good point, and one that I interrogated her about quite regularly. “Are you developing feelings for him?” and the like. Her answers were always considered. She did have powerful emotions attached to their affair, but they were all hitched up to the submissiveness she felt to him, so they were quite different to our love. She was confident that what she feels for me she could never feel for him and vice versa, if you can understand that. It’s like she was a different person with him – that slut actress again – and she was very good at compartmentalising and enjoying both lives completely separately. I marvelled at her ability to do that, but then she is pretty special. Again, what is coming quite soon is going to bring this view into play and challenge it, so I will delve no further.

[john jasson]

This helps me to see how my personality works John. I believe you said "sexual arrogance" or something like that. It caused me to pause and examine myself both past and present. Arrogance of any kind, for any reason, causes anger in me. Mostly controlled to the point that nobody would ever know.

You are a strong man as well. I couldn't have done any of what you have. I tend to think well into the future when something changes around me. Then I research deeply into what is causing the changes so I can get a much better idea of how it will end, and what guideposts to look for along the way.

It would have taken me less than a week of when your journey started to a very clear picture of the worst-case ending and also to realize that most people who practice the dom sub lifestyle are just playing.

Geoff is one of the rare ones that do not play the game, and it's fairly obvious from the beginning with the level of arrogance he shows to everyone. He's one of the dangerous ones that fully understand that the ultimate goal is to become God to his sub. The ultimate mind fuck you say over and over. But truthfully it's the ultimate brainwashing. It's something every government has been reaching for throughout history. Geoffs method just takes to long for them.

I think you mentioned that he served in the military at one point in your story. I wonder if he served in the mental warfare aspect of the service?

Either way, and I'm not trying to be offensive here, but you are both extremely intelligent people. It's so hard for me to understand why you would both jump blindly into this situation. The only thing I can think of is that both of you let your genitals do your thinking, and that's another alien concept to me, because nothing good ever comes from that type of thing. You can dodge a bullet most of the time, but eventually you will get burned unless you stop thinking that way.

Again I'm not trying to be offensive John. Mostly just writing out some of my thoughts to try to better understand. But please don't stop your well written and thought out story. It helps me unmask certain things about myself as I self-reflect.

I’m not sure now if I mentioned it before, but Geoff was in the services which was where he gained his original sports coaching and nursing qualifications. He was ultra arrogant, and he treated Sherrie as if she were a raw teenage recruit, giving her no credit at all for her maturity and her intelligence. If you’ve read the whole thing, you’ll know that she always had a barely hidden weakness that she never understood for this kind of man. He was an extreme example that brought this facet of her flowing out in a torrent. She had never been treated in such an aggressive, uncaring way in her entire life. When she first encountered him she came home and told me he was weird and he hardly spoke to her while signing her up for swimming. Little did we know that he would soon cast the most intense of spells over her. Maybe we did let our genitals rule our heads, but again, as I’ve repeated often, we were utterly convinced of our unbreakable relationship, and we took it as licence to play to extremes. If it felt good, we did it. Even if it felt scary but exciting, we still did it. We thought that nothing could touch us. I wouldn’t say we were ever brainwashed to his will against hers or ours. I prefer my description of it being a total mindfuck, but we knew it was. There were no illusions.

I don’t take any offence by the way. I like posts such as yours that make me think. I wish there were more. Thank you.

[john jasson]

John,
Writing at its best, no doubt. You make me feel as though I have known you and Sherrie for years, a drink at the local pub, a laugh over the fence in the back yard.

I have developed a strong dislike for Geoff. There have been many times in my life that I've crossed paths with people like him. They seem to be able to sense a vulnerability and exploit it , as he is doing with Sherrie. But in truth, they are all cowards. Eventually, he will try this on someone that will that isn't as willing as Sherrie and something, shall we say, unforseen will happen. I can only hope.

I keep reading and rereading your posts looking for a speck of light at the bottom of the abyss, but sadly i can't see any. It almost appears hopeless.

John, you are truly strong, stronger than i could ever be. We all have our breaking point.To still, after all this time, be the lifeline for Sherrie, shows your incredible love for her. But it seems as though she may be slipping away. God I hope I'm wrong.

I had mixed feelings about Geoff. I didn’t like him, and I couldn’t see what Sherrie saw in him. Even her own first impressions weren’t good. He knew as much and he often took pleasure in reminding her that she once thought she was above him when he had her naked and helpless in some humiliating situation. It was simply that he was very macho, arrogant and assertive, and something deep within her craved submission to a man who treated her that way. It was way out of her normal character, and she was convinced it was primitive animal behaviour, a theme he constantly encouraged as he told her it was the natural order of things for her to be subservient to him. The only reason I had mixed feelings about him despite my dislike was that if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have had all of these crazy hot times.

[john jasson]

John,
Writing at its best, no doubt. You make me feel as though I have known you and Sherrie for years, a drink at the local pub, a laugh over the fence in the back yard.

I have developed a strong dislike for Geoff. There have been many times in my life that I've crossed paths with people like him. They seem to be able to sense a vulnerability and exploit it , as he is doing with Sherrie. But in truth, they are all cowards. Eventually, he will try this on someone that will that isn't as willing as Sherrie and something, shall we say, unforseen will happen. I can only hope.

I keep reading and rereading your posts looking for a speck of light at the bottom of the abyss, but sadly i can't see any. It almost appears hopeless.

John, you are truly strong, stronger than i could ever be. We all have our breaking point.To still, after all this time, be the lifeline for Sherrie, shows your incredible love for her. But it seems as though she may be slipping away. God I hope I'm wrong.

I feel the same way about Geoff but this is a historical tale and something their relationship survived. How they were able to live through this with such seeming equanimity astounds me at times but knowing their relationship did survive helps me at least to enjoy the eroticism of what happened.

Metaphorically, I suppose, it’s approaching the speed of light by this stage, so some law of nature has to give soon. Benefit of 20/20 hindsight!!

[Nfhw]

My guess is eventually as things get darker and darker, John will finally become motivated to save the love of his life from falling into the abyss forever. In spite of his incredible desire to let her run wild and experience an unrestricted sexual nirvana. Eventually, he'll grab her and pull her back to safety. His concern for her safely will overcome his desire to not interfere.

[Tracey52]

The feminist’s would have a field day #Me2. At least I think that’s how it goes.
Excited for the next instalment. Seems like we’re never getting to the breaking point.

Another guess.
G: I’ve grown to love you.

[john jasson]

My guess is eventually as things get darker and darker, John will finally become motivated to save the love of his life from falling into the abyss forever. In spite of his incredible desire to let her run wild and experience an unrestricted sexual nirvana. Eventually, he'll grab her and pull her back to safety. His concern for her safely will overcome his desire to not interfere.

That was always our plan, Nfhw, through her imagery of floating in space having this wild experience while I stood watch over her, holding the tether to her harness, and making ready to pull her back to safety when she’d had enough. Funnily enough, it never worked out that way. I guess things often pan out different to the way we expect them

[john jasson]

Duplicate

[john jasson]

The feminist’s would have a field day #Me2. At least I think that’s how it goes.
Excited for the next instalment. Seems like we’re never getting to the breaking point.

Another guess.
G: I’ve grown to love you.

You’ve certainly struck a nerve in saying it seems like we’re never getting to the breaking point, Tracey. I’ve made a few statements in similar vein recently, and I do share your concern. Problem is that as I gather my recollections trying to edit or omit different events to speed progress, some specific occasion or period will elbow its way to the front of my mind and demand that I really can’t leave it out because each part of the jigsaw hangs together to form the whole coherent picture. I can only excuse it by pointing out that the actual events played out over many years. But yes, in essence, I agree. Too long for here if I'm honest.

So now, having said that, I’ll make it a bit longer still!

[john jasson]

More months pass by, and my wife’s double life as my dearly devoted love and her master’s enthusiastically submissive plaything continues unabated. I’m still strictly denied intercourse with her and the sight of her fully naked body, but she’s blowing my mind with what she’s doing to me physically, short of full sex, and mentally with her talent to feed me unparalleled feedback about her exploits as she teases me to distraction and beyond. I’ve probably had more orgasms at her hand than at any time in the past, and probably an equal number of occasions when she’s stimulated me to the very brink for an extended period but not allowed me relief. I don’t know how others would cope with it, but it’s hot for us. Yeah, it really is, extremely so. It is different now though, I admit, and it’s undeniable. I can’t put my finger on what it is exactly because she’s extremely affectionate to me and caring to a fault, but I just have a troubling feeling that she isn’t as exclusively mine as she used to be despite her constant reassurances. It could be in my head with the knowledge that she’s chosen to give another man free sway over her body and her mind to a degree, or it may even be a change in the electro-chemical reaction between us. She is constantly being topped up with his DNA after all. She looks the same stunning woman as ever, but there’s a kind of alien feel when we touch that I don’t like and I can’t quite quantify. Most of the time, in my excitement, I dismiss such concerns, and it’s easy to do so when it’s plain to see how happy she is with her intriguing ménage à trois. She’s at her peak, positively glowing and full of the joys of living. I love that mood in her, and I love her.

She has progressed through many stages with Geoff over the years, as he’s played various roles in her life. Swimming coach, personal trainer, aggressive lover, BDSM fuckbuddy and now, as her master, he rules her perfect body pretty much as his personal property, and does exactly as he pleases with her, no holds barred. He knows she has extremely masochistic tendencies towards him, and he takes full advantage. She simply revels in it. Her joy and excitement on this journey of surrender has been fascinating to watch as he’s challenged her increasingly with the delights of the BDSM world. From bonds to restrain her physically, blindfolds, white noise earphones and gags to disorientate and cow her, nipple clamps, butt plugs, physical punishment and discipline by his hand or belts and canes to subdue her to his will, and now to total submission in the form of ritual anal possession along with control of her body functions by him using enemas and, increasingly in recent months, long periods bound and in catheterisation when she spends weekends with him while I am away. I still sometimes wonder if she will wake up one day and rebel against his regime but there are no signs at all that she will. Aside from her familiar periodic outpourings of remorse, and refrains of ‘what the hell am I doing’, she’s happy and contented most of the time, and as long as she is, I am too. Of course there are many nights when we kiss and cuddle that I’m overcome with the need to strip her and fuck her. To reclaim my rightful place as her cherished only lover. She feels it too, but we see what we are doing as hotter for the moment. It’s an ultra erotic adventure we are sharing, and we tell ourselves to take all we can from the situation because it isn’t for ever. We have numerous late night heart to hearts in bed and agree that once we stop it’s over. Do we want it to be over? Well, no, we don’t. It’s so frantically fucking exciting for both of us that to have her out there this way, and it’s unlikely that we will ever again in our lives find such a perfect fit to ring so many of our deviant bells simultaneously. We are both intoxicated with the fact that she’s putting out to him so enthusiastically. It’s a no brainer. We simply have to go on with this.

One Tuesday night she’s gone off to Geoff’s for an unscheduled assignation. Tuesday isn’t one of their regular nights, but of course, she has as much latitude as she likes to do what she will, so there have been plenty of hot Tuesday nights for sure.

This evening he’s sent a text ordering her to come to him and spread herself before him. This would usually indicate a session of her deepest submission involving her humiliation by him with enemas, prolonged anal possession and, for good measure, usually a blindfold, bondage and a ball gag too. She has slightly mixed feelings about these occasions, because while she craves the extreme surrender to him and now has a basic instinct for doing exactly as he tells her, it usually means she gets no vaginal sex. My Sherrie has always needed a hard cock regularly thrusting into her pussy, and now he knows he’s her only source he seems to be taking delight in treating her like she’s unworthy of it. I’ve formed the impression that he feels more inclined to dominate her nowadays than to fuck her, and I think it irks her a little sometimes that he can eschew her abundant womanly sexual charms that are freely on offer to him in favour of making her suffer. He’s her master of course, so she can’t complain. It’s a good thing that she gets off on him dominating her just as much as she does on him fucking her, but it’s no surprise to me that she sometimes feels cock deprived when she visits him. As I mentioned a little way back, it’s astounding how the outrageously hot can soon become bizarrely routine. It remains hot always, but somehow you do get used to it.

This particular evening she’s shown me his two word text “spread them”. It arrived unexpectedly and she leaves in a rush, rather flushed, saying that she isn’t staying over with him tonight because she has a breakfast business meeting tomorrow and she needs to focus.

After several hours of my usual angst which I am totally used to coping with, but which never loses its edge, she arrives home very late and being very quiet as she enters the house. Maybe she’s expecting or hoping I’m already asleep. I’m not. I am high on adrenaline about what she might have been up to, and I’m all ready to hear about it and to play. I have my arms around her, kissing her, as soon as she’s through the door, but she’s obviously ruffled. I move my hands down to her hips to squeeze her, and it feels a bit bulky down there which is odd as she’s been gradually losing weight for years now.

J: What’s all this?

She doesn’t reply. Instead she looks at me very sheepishly. Nothing surprises me by now, and I unbutton her coat to find her bare beneath it. I haven’t seen those tits naked for almost a year because she hasn’t let me, but my attention is drawn lower down to what looks like a flannelette sheet carefully folded to look like an adult sized nappy around her nether regions. That is obviously the intended effect because it’s secured at the top with a giant sized safety pin. There are large see through rubber incontinence pants over it.

S: We’ve been playing dirty games.

J: Fuck me!

Now, I secretly knew that Sherrie has a thing for water games. When home computers came out, and we had a house pc rather than individual laptops, I went into the search history one day looking for a travel site I’d been on previously that I’d lost the url for. I was astonished to find searches that Sherrie had done for “wee wee games” “peeing girl” “wet myself” and “wetting fetish”. As they say, you never know everything about a person. She’d never confided a word about it to me, probably ashamed to, but now it looks as though her master has got far enough into her brain to uncover her interest in the fetish. When she’s with him, bringing out her shame and amplifying it is what they’re all about.

J: What have you been playing?

She’s blushing as deep a red as I’ve ever seen her by now.

S: We play pissing games now and then. He walks beside me through town or wherever. He tells me to wet myself and I have to do it there and then. Makes me drink glass after glass of water at his and then hold it till I’m bursting. Then we go out. Might be walking down the main street, in a shop or anywhere. Sometimes he will take me somewhere secluded where hopefully nobody will see us, and he puts his hand down into my nappy and I do it while he holds me there playing with the flow with his fingers and smearing it all over my crotch and my arse. Even wipes it on my face and hair if he’s being really nasty.

Her hair does look a bit matted and unkempt now, come to think about it.

J: Fuck. You never told me any of this before.

S: Too afraid of what you’d think of me.

J: But not ashamed of him knowing?

S: I have no shame threshold with him. Only humiliation. It’s different. I want to die if you think badly of me. Being humiliated by him gets me excited.

J: You must tell me everything! Always. That’s the deal.

S: I’m sorry.

J: This all gets you hot?

S: Drives me fucking insane with lust. It’s all I can do not to mount him in the street after I’ve finished peeing. He wouldn’t allow it though because by then I’m soaked and not in a good way. He had me wet myself in the pub tonight, and made me sit there in it while he slowly drank two pints of beer. He’s sent me home now in the nappy covered in piss. Bastard wouldn’t let me have a shower and change at his like he normally does as a punishment because I told him you are home and I wasn’t staying the night with him. I think he wanted to make me sleep the night with a catheter in like he sometimes does to ‘teach me a lesson’ after I’ve been wetting myself. I stank all the way home in the car, so you’d best move out of the way and let me get to the bathroom before I stink the house out too.

I can’t help laughing at the tableau she projects before me. Shock of dishevelled and maybe pissy red hair, big wild eyes, heaving tits with huge swollen nipples on parade, fucking great nappy covering her middle and her face full of consternation at me finding her this way.

J: You’re absolutely fucking crazy!

When I’m over my amusement, for some reason I get the vivid impression of her as a stinking tom cat that’s been out on the prowl for mating. Real sleazy thought as we continue to eyeball each other. After the hesitation I let her pass me. I decide I would rather pursue this with her when she has removed the presence and aroma of cold piss from her lower reaches. It’s an extreme episode, but it’s just another example of the no limits nature of their games now. As ever, I am careful not to judge. How can I? I have a raging hard on from seeing her this way, and observing her embarrassment over it.

She’s standing on the tiles of the bathroom, so if she drips now it won’t be such a smelly disaster. She takes down the incontinence panties, and removes the nappy, so suddenly I’m seeing her sex exposed to my gaze for the first time in months. I’m not sure whether it’s inadvertent or she’s doing it to inflame my passion for her.

J: Tell me more about your pissing exploits.

Slowly she opens up:

S: It’s gone on a while now. Last week in his forest, he made me strip and squat and he pissed on my head and then hold the position as it ran down all over me. Then when he was finished he said it was my turn, and he told me to take my wedding ring off, put it on the ground and piss on it.

J: Fucking arsehole.

S: Only time I’ve ever refused him anything. He wasn’t happy. The rules are I can’t refuse my Master anything, but he soon knew he’d picked on something I wouldn’t budge on. He didn’t push it because he knew I was serious, but he told me I would have to perform a forfeit instead to maintain his authority over me, so I did that.

J: What was the forfeit?

S: No. I’ve told you this much which is hard enough, but I won’t tell you that. You’ll be upset and angry and there’s just no point. But now you know I wouldn’t defile my wedding ring that way.

J: Tell me!

S: John, no. I’ve told you everything else. Just leave what I did to stew in my own head. Remember our talk in the hotel that time? I’m driving this. I control it, and when I need you to, you back off, right?

J: OK Sweetheart. If that’s what you really want, but if you change your mind at any time I am here. And I won’t be angry with you. Thank you for protecting the symbol of our union.

S: Thank you so much for being you; for not pushing me and not giving me grief. I love that about you. You let me be who I am, however unreasonable and however tough on you, and I love you so much.

I know that she doesn’t want to get into this anymore with me and what I’ve seen already with the nappy is huge enough for my brain to process. I decide to let her have her privacy on whatever the forfeit was, just like I never raised my discovery of her urolagnia inspired internet searches with her many years before. Her gratitude for my acquiescence is tangible, but she’s not finished with me.

S: There’s something else I want that you won’t like though.

J: Name it.

S: Sometimes nowadays, when I’ve had a very extreme experience like tonight, he’s still in my sex brain when I get home. He’s there now, looming large. When I feel like this, I don’t like to go to bed with you and play or talk about it to you. There have been lots of those times to be honest, even going way back to when I started with him. It clouds the memory of me and him together for me. I don’t want that, but in the past I’ve just done it because I know you’re hot too, and you want us to lie in bed in the aftermath and relive the details of what I’ve done. I know it will be hard for you not to have that immediate togetherness, but I feel the force of his greater domination of me now that I’m more submitted to him.

She’s standing there naked with a giant nappy on the floor beside her, both of them still stinking of piss and she’s laying this on the line to me.

S: Holding you to what you’ve said to me about pleasing myself first, I’m not going to give you that instant gratification anymore when I’m not feeling it. I’m going to sleep in the spare room so that I can come down from the high gradually, savouring my own thoughts on what’s happened, and not have to regurgitate everything as a performance for you. That’s what I want sometimes. Just to enjoy the reality of my submission to him and wallow in the afterglow of it. It won’t be every time, but I want to have the option.

J: Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can say to that. You’ve already denied me intercourse and the sight of your body.

My words make her realise finally that she is naked before me. Shocked momentarily at her lapse, she makes a move to put her hand between her legs and her other arm over her tits to hide her goodies. Then she realises its far too late and we both laugh at the farcical scene we’re playing out.

S: You said you wanted to experience the harsh side of my sexuality. The parts that I told you you’d hate. Well this is one of them that I’ve protected you from before, so now, again, you’ve got what you wanted. And you know what?

The smirk is there now.

J: What?
S: It serves you right and I honestly don’t care what you think about it. It’s a new and alien feeling to me not caring what you think, John, but you asked for it. Come here.

I approach her again, the smell from her now permeating the bathroom, and she grabs my roaring erection through my pants. She gives me the arrogant grin of hate and laughs at me. She comes over all superior:

S: As I thought. You like me not caring what you think, don’t you? You so love my cruelty any way I choose to dispense it. You are soooo fucking weird!!

This seems somewhat pot kettle black to me under the circumstances.

J (indignantly): Says the thirty two year old company director whose master has made her piss in her nappy like an incontinent baby and drive home stinking of it!

It’s one of the most profound moments of our whole relationship to date, as we stand our ground and stare at each other, our minds and bodies at fever pitch. Totally on fire. This, right here is the feeling. This is why neither of us wants it to stop.

Eventually, she’s almost compelled to laugh at the irony I’ve highlighted. Almost, but I can see she doesn’t want to break the spell she’s cast over me, so she nods her appreciation of my touché riposte instead and closes the bathroom door with a wry pout. I know I’m dismissed for the night, so I skulk into the bedroom to our empty bed. I can’t say I feel frustrated because the red hot vision of her bare breasted in that giant nappy, and the way she spoke to me before stalking off to sleep alone still have me on fire with desire for her. The imagery is fucking mental, and the picture stays with me long after I turn out the light.

We next see each other the following morning at the kitchen table. She’s laid my breakfast out, and brewed tea in the time honoured fashion. She’s in a bright and breezy mood. She’s had another fix of her master, and all is normal now as she prepares herself for her client meeting at the office.

S (comes in for a kiss): Morning, Babe. Sleep well?

J: As well as could be expected in a bed that was too big.

She looks at me and smiles. A nice smile this time.

S: Thank you for understanding.

J: Would it have made any difference if I hadn’t?

S: No, actually. But if I’d backed down you would have been disappointed in me and lost your erection.

I aim a knowing grin at her. Busted again.

S: Wouldn’t you??!! And not half as turned on! This is me speaking! I know you, remember!

J: I guess so, I suppose, if you put it like that.

S: Don’t worry. We’ll make up for it tonight, and we can lie in a bit tomorrow. There isn’t too much scheduled. The crew can hold the fort.

J: Did you genuinely want to go to bed alone to savour your mad night with him, or were you pushing my buttons a bit there?

S: Does it matter either way? I told you. I’m doing exactly what I want according to how I feel. And you asked me to do it! Now I’m disappointed that you don’t believe me.

If it’s truly her state of mind that she wants to go to bed alone to relive her times with him it’s more than a little concerning, but yes, I asked for it, and Christ, it’s off the scale enthralling. Her words prove to be genuine, and that night marked the start of a new phase. It’s now become a feature that sometimes she’ll go off to sleep in the spare room if he’s blown her mind in particularly spectacular fashion. Over the next months it’s not unusual to hear her through the wall vocalising her sensations as she masturbates to orgasm, and I’ve heard her weeping to herself too. It’s concerning, and I’d like to go and comfort her, but she’s steadfast in her assertion that there are some times when she needs to be alone with her thoughts, so I let her be.

J: Do you truthfully not care about what I think anymore?

S: I don’t when I’m fever pitching as much as I was last night, but never forget that you encouraged me. You’re at least fifty percent to blame for the way I sometimes am now. It’s our game though, isn’t it? Doesn’t change our love for each other. At least you promised me it doesn’t.

That night when she’s lightly perfumed, and not with urine, we make the most tender love together as we mutually soothe, and accuse each other of being the most wonderful person on Earth. We make love short of full sex, of course. In fact she’s wearing a knee length nightie over her underwear and, unusually, I’m wearing boxer shorts. Neither of us climax, but that isn’t the point tonight. We really don’t need orgasms to express our love. I fall asleep contentedly holding my darling girl, Geoff’s extremely submissive masochist. I worship the former unconditionally. I love and hate the latter in equal measure, I think. Our world is bright, exciting, full of love and hot, edgy experiences. We’re doing ok.

[Lonewolf659]

John,

Superb writing. You have me on pins and needles waiting for the next shoe to drop. It amazes me the complete love that you share with Sherrie. Without that this entire journey would not be possible.

I have noticed that Sherrie is a contradiction on heels. On one hand she is your beautiful, loving, devoted wife that is totally in love with you. Then she turns into the submissive sex toy used by Geoff. Then I noticed , during the wedding ring incident, that she could be fiercely protective of those she loves if her ire is roused. Never would I have imagined she would refuse Geoff.

As usual, I will read your new posts several times to be sure I haven't missed anything. This time, the incident with the wedding ring was so far out of character, considering what Sherrie has done so far in her submissive odyssey,It brought to mind a parallel to something that happens all too often here in the United States. We have one of the fiercest predators that walk the earth. 1500 lbs of pure fury, the brown bear. Observed from a distance and not provoked, you are normally safe. Just like Sherrie when she is in her submissive mode,does what she is told, never puts up any type of resistance.

But the unfortunate person that chooses to insert themselves in between the mommy bear and her cubs and poses a threat, much like Geoff did in trying to get Sherrie to disrespect not only her ring but her marriage, doesn't usually end well. This one incident has me believing that shy, demure, submissive Sherrie has the heart and soul of a bear, her spirit animal. It's there, lying dormant, like her self proclaimed sex brain, waiting for a serious enough threat. And I believe that if this happened, she will become a force to be reckoned with.

This is just my thoughts, please, no offense ment.

[Tracey52]

Man. It gets kinkier and kinkier and the thrill level keeps going up. I’m not trying to have you shorten you story John, it’s enthralling. It was more a statement of my impatience to get to the climax.

[antidote2909]

John

Please don't shorten it.

We love the story the way you're writing.

[Tracey52]

As I reflect on your story more, it’s like reading science fiction. Who leads this kind of life? It’s so far removed from my day to day life, I find it difficult to comprehend and accept that anyone would one, want this and two, would watch their significant other go through with it. Trying not to sound judgy although it does read like that, but it’s what makes this so compelling to read. It’s seems to me that the journey takes so much more fortitude from you John than Sherry. And Don’t get me started on Geoff. What gives him the right and two what sort of fucked up religious cult is this?
I hope that when the story wraps up we find out how Geoff ends up in the long run.
Finally thanks for writing and write as much as you feel you need to.

[Nfhw]

Too long? Ha!! It's not long enough. I too read each chapter multiple times. I've never have felt so fascinated by such a story. Plus I love John's unparalleled ability with words to entertain and draw us in.

It is so compelling I awake up in the middle of the night to check if more has been posted.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

[edgedndenied]

John
Thanks for the update. Sherrie is sure letting her boundaries be expanded. It seems Geoff is very much into toilet servitude. The forfeit Sherrie had to do since she would not piss on her wedding ring was it drinking Geoff's and or her piss? Geoff seems very much into bathroom functions with the many enemas and watching her defecate. Does he eventualy turn her into a toilet slave and that is to much for her to tell you. Is involving poop next. You did say things got very extreme
It seems that Sherrie is pulling away from you more ie. not having reclaim intimacy, sleeping in seperate bedroom at times, not telling you everything that she does with Geoff. I thought your deal was she got the freedom but you got all the details.
I would expect eventualy Geoff would want you cut off from any intimacy including sleeping with Sherrie. Will he want her and you to get a seperation? Can not wait for next installment.

[Build2last]

Very well written John. I enjoy your writing very much. I don't know how others feel about the situation you are recounting, but I haven't felt anything erotic to me about from the beginning. Most probably because I'm not turned on by anything remotely bdsm in general.

Instead, I find yours and sherrys interactions and feelings more of the attraction for me. I felt great relief when you wrote how she refused to degrade the symbol of your marriage. But all the rest just spikes my anxiety to the highest level.

I feel a lot like you do. I love the passion you have with your wife. And I hate that you both dance so close to the flame of destruction.

Your story touches me in a way that very rare for me. I find myself in tears at times when reflecting on what you have written. And of course as I'm on the outside looking in, I find myself wanting to scream at you both for ignoring the pin slipping from the grenade at your feet.

I almost wish I could stop reading this account, even though I know you both survived it. But I cannot do it. Like you described, I'm in to deep. Now I have to stay afloat and ride the current until it calms and I can swim to shore.

Excellent work John. I truly hope that you continue your story at least through part of I hope what are happier times when you finally get passed this potential disaster.

[BDJ]

John,
The drama of your story precludes me from being able to analyze its individual components as others are capable of doing (oh, how I miss Chris now!) I look for the 'feel' of the text, of how each segment interweaves with the whole. I know you do not put in any extraneous words; much less sentences, into what you chose to post, so I'm struck by a statement near the beginning of this latest narrative: "It is different now though, I admit, and it’s undeniable. I can’t put my finger on what it is exactly because she’s extremely affectionate to me and caring to a fault, but I just have a troubling feeling that she isn’t as exclusively mine as she used to be despite her constant reassurances."

Like the sight of a red sky in morning to a sailor, I see danger ahead. As I expressed before, this is not a journey for her that seemingly has an end or a bottom, if you take my meaning. Despite your concerns at the revelation of each new deprivation he introduces to her (and she enthusiastically participates in), you soldier on, intent on being not only the perfect mate but unstinting in your devotion to her. Thus you metaphorically ignore that red sky and support her when a deeper part of you knows she might be damaging herself, while also introducing a crack into the foundation of your unstinting love, by abstaining from action.

I have been wrong in my assessment before. I'd be happy with that now.

BDJ

[Tracey52]

Like the sight of a red sky in morning to a sailor, I see danger ahead. As I expressed before, this is not a journey for her that seemingly has an end or a bottom, if you take my meaning. Despite your concerns at the revelation of each new deprivation he introduces to her (and she enthusiastically participates in), you soldier on, intent on being not only the perfect mate but unstinting in your devotion to her. Thus you metaphorically ignore that red sky and support her when a deeper part of you knows she might be damaging herself, while also introducing a crack into the foundation of your unstinting love, by abstaining from action.

I have been wrong in my assessment before. I'd be happy with that now.

BDJ

It worries me too BDJ. Were not the alarm bells and sirens ringing in John head? He’s losing her. How could he not see it? It seems like a train wreck coming and he had an inclination of it but seemingly did nothing. John doesn’t talk to Sherrie about his fears, so even the communication is lapsing. How they got through it is what I’m waiting for.

[Johng1953]

I have no idea how you put up with this and for so long. Was there never a time when you were seriously tempted to say enough is enough? Especially given your concerns voiced at the start of this update.
Oh, and of course I really, really need to know what that forfeit was even though I'm sure that will horrify me too and make me despise Geoff even more than I already do!
And quite frankly, I'm falling out of love with Sherrie at this point in your journey.

[GenerallySpeaking]

I feel dread. Impending doom and heartbreak. Someone will be hurt. There will be emotional blood.

[Lonewolf659]

Like the sight of a red sky in morning to a sailor, I see danger ahead. As I expressed before, this is not a journey for her that seemingly has an end or a bottom, if you take my meaning. Despite your concerns at the revelation of each new deprivation he introduces to her (and she enthusiastically participates in), you soldier on, intent on being not only the perfect mate but unstinting in your devotion to her. Thus you metaphorically ignore that red sky and support her when a deeper part of you knows she might be damaging herself, while also introducing a crack into the foundation of your unstinting love, by abstaining from action.

I have been wrong in my assessment before. I'd be happy with that now.

BDJ

It worries me too BDJ. Were not the alarm bells and sirens ringing in John head? He’s losing her. How could he not see it? It seems like a train wreck coming and he had an inclination of it but seemingly did nothing. John doesn’t talk to Sherrie about his fears, so even the communication is lapsing. How they got through it is what I’m waiting for.

I totally agree. John and Sherrie are now like a pair of rams butting heads, with the center between them evaporating. Sherrie telling John to be her lifeline to pull her out. John telling Sherrie that it's up to her to decide when it's time to get out. While neither one of them either willing or able to bring this to a halt. John is loosing his grip on his precious Sherrie. Sherrie is slowly replacing John with Geoff. Considering what has already been endured, something catastrophic must be on the horizon.

"I want to look away, but I can't. It's like a train wreck, only worse"

[Tracey52]

Sometimes nowadays, when I’ve had a very extreme experience like tonight, he’s still in my sex brain when I get home. He’s there now, looming large. When I feel like this, I don’t like to go to bed with you and play or talk about it to you. There have been lots of those times to be honest, even going way back to when I started with him. It clouds the memory of me and him together for me. I don’t want that, but in the past I’ve just done it because I know you’re hot too, and you want us to lie in bed in the aftermath and relive the details of what I’ve done. I know it will be hard for you not to have that immediate togetherness, but I feel the force of his greater domination of me now that I’m more submitted to him.

Reading this latest chapter again and again. The paragraph above makes my spine tingle and fills me with fear for them. When you think about it, Sherrie couldn’t have be clearer that she is more Geoff’s than John’s now.

I couldn’t keep reading if John hadn’t let us know they got through it. It’s like reading the last page of a “who done it” first. Not usually my thing, but essential here I think.

It could be in my head with the knowledge that she’s chosen to give another man free sway over her body and her mind to a degree, or it may even be a change in the electro-chemical reaction between us. She is constantly being topped up with his DNA after all

He is shooting blanks, so maybe no DNA, but the stuff that crosses the blood brain barrier for sure. However, if you’re not get the usual tingle when you touch, then neither is she, she’s getting it with Geoff. Maybe, I’m over playing the warning signs and you two have it all under control but risk man! At this point I think you’re insane, but was there a fear that if you tried to pull the plug, that Sherrie would say no? If so, was that a bigger fear than letting it run it’s course?

Finally, was she still fasting Friday through Saturday?

[KarrieKraves]

I rarely respond on threads/stories these days unless something in the posting absolutely cries out to me, as does happen following this story. John you are doing a tremendous job unfolding these events and I hope there is much more to come both with the “Geoff” chapters as well as beyond. A couple of issues that you haven’t covered in much detail and perhaps you might find time to leave comment are as follows.
You detailed Sherrie accompanying Geoff to the local pub (obviously as part of their BDSM scene on that particular occasion). Did they also though spend time out together doing more “couple-like” activities such as eating out, theater etc. Also would they do anything “special” together for occasions like birthdays holidays etc. If they did what were your thoughts with it.
Also you outlined the fact that Sherrie had initially offered you a “hall-pass” when she chose to end PIV play with you. Something she had reinforced on subsequent occasions. Had you ever taken her up on this option or at least seriously considered doing so as the term of your PIV denial played out? Could you share some of your decisions/thoughts on this.

[PaNic]

Jeez you’ve got your audience going here John!

I’d just like to give you my vote of confidence as a couple, strikes me that it’s your excellent communication and solid love for each other that makes it safe enough to explore the depths of your psyches so deeply together. This story illustrates brilliantly what sexual fantasy and play are for!

Well done and thanks for sharing