Losing Control II Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  About the Author.

  The author has been willingly cuckolded by partners in the past and knows firsthand the angst and emotional turmoil which accompanies this. It is this emotive aspect of cuckolding which fascinates the author; the compulsion to give up your own desires and pleasures for someone else’s. This deep need for denial and sexual exclusion is an aspect which extends far beyond the mere act of infidelity.

  Watching, waiting or hearing your partner fucking someone else soon ends.

  The knowing they have done so remains forever.

  Other cuckold titles available on Amazon:

  Losing Control

  An Unexpected Ex

  The Game Changer

  Losing Control II

  Foreword

  I’d never actually intended to write a sequel to Losing Control. As far as I was concerned Jason and Bea’s story was done and I moved on to other ideas. But unlike most other characters for some reason these two wouldn’t leave me alone. I found myself wondering at odd moments what had happened to them. Were they still happy? Was Steve still in their lives and if so how had the dynamic of their relationship changed?

  And then one day when I was busy doing something else entirely the whole next chapter of their lives just popped into my head. Some story lines I have to work on, some start with an idea and then the characters take over and the next thing I know they’re up to all sorts of mischief I’d never expected (this happened in The Game Changer, where things got rather darker than I’d anticipated; but everyone involved seemed to be having fun so I just let them run with it).

  The story below arrived in my head fully formed and so it just seemed a shame not to write it down. The events take place two years after the first story concluded.

  I hope you enjoy finding out what Jason and Bea have been up to as much as I did.

  Bea

  It was my own fault really.

  I let my feelings for Steve get too strong, too intense. I enjoyed not only fucking him but just being with him and I ended up wanting to spend more and more time with him. What started as a game between my husband and I somehow morphed into something more serious. And into something in which my husband’s presence began to seem superfluous.

  I could blame Jason; in fact I certainly did for a while. After all he was the one who started me on this path and then allowed me the freedom and autonomy to pursue my desires without boundaries. Why couldn’t he have been a bit more jealous, a bit more possessive and kept me in check more? Surely he should have seen the warning signs and stepped in? After all, what sort of a husband just lets his wife go off and fall in love with another man?

  I could blame Jason but that wouldn’t be fair. He allowed me the sexual independence I’d come to crave and if I let that get away from me then there’s really nowhere else to pin the fault than squarely on my deluded shoulders. Somehow I’d come to the erroneous perception that what I shared with Steve was more than just sex and, even worse, that Steve felt the same way.

  The announcement of his engagement pretty effectively destroyed that illusion.

  It seemed that while I’d been having my affair with Steve, he’d been busy having another one with Sophia. Worse, he’d decided that what he had with her was the real thing and, therefore, it was time for us to end. It seems that for Steve our relationship had never been more than a bit of fun; an enjoyable fling with a married woman while he waited for his own princess to come along.

  God it hurt. I hadn’t realized how deep I’d gotten until it was taken away. I reacted like any other heart-broken and spurned woman; I rang him at inappropriate times, I stalked him on social media and, to my everlasting shame, in real life. Steve finally gave in and agreed to one more night together at his place. Jason didn’t object to my going; I fear I would have gone even if he did.

  It was awful. It was obvious Steve didn’t want me there; he’d moved on and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t as well. We fucked, Steve taking me hard and fast from behind, but here was none of the old affection or closeness and I knew then that it really was over. I didn’t stay the night. As soon as Steve finished I dressed and went home.

  Jason was waiting for me. He held me silently while I cried in his arms even as I felt the last of Steve’s cum still wet between my legs.

  It took me a long time to get over Steve. Although now, for the first time in ages, Jason had me all to himself in bed I found I had lost all interest in sex. Occasionally I’d let him climb on top but I was otherwise unresponsive to his needs both physically and mentally. I shut down and in doing so shut him out as well.

  If Jason had left me then I wouldn’t have blamed him. He’d let me have my fun and I’d taken it far further than he had ever envisioned. I’d put him last sexually and, increasingly, emotionally. I’d made him the cuckold he desired to be but had pushed the boundaries of everything too far. And then after all that I left him to pick up the pieces when my lover moved on. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he left but instead all he did was support me. He never complained when I moaned endlessly about Steve. He didn’t object to his even more curtailed sex life. He listened when I ranted, held me when I cried and slowly, slowly I healed.

  Coming back to myself was like emerging from a long dark tunnel. When I was in there it seemed that the blackness was all around, that it made up the entire world. And then when I finally surfaced and looked back at the tunnel behind me I was surprised at how small and insignificant it really was. Nothing but a tiny dark hole amidst the bright colours of life.

  I started to look after myself again. I even went back to the gym where I knew I would bump into Steve and when it eventually happened I was able to look at him and feel nothing more extreme than a slightly sad fondness for what we had shared. As my obsession with Steve faded so my relationship with Jason reignited. We spent a lot of time together and as the days passed in the company of this gentle and honest man remembered why I fell in love with him in the first place.

  The experience with Steve had scarred me but through it I had also learnt much about what turned Jason on and I was determined to explore his kinks further as a reward for all he had given me. I’d enjoyed my hotwife adventure but I had no desire to repeat it.

  Jason

  The breakup hit Bea hard and it hurt me to see her in so much pain. I felt responsible as it was only because of me that she was in this situation. When I used to fantasize about being cuckolded I never really gave much thought to how difficult it might be for Bea when a relationship ended. I guess I just assumed that it would be possible for her to enjoy sex without getting emotionally involved. Even when it became obvious that Bea felt much more for Steve than just some casual fling I still didn’t appreciate how far she had fallen for him.

  Becoming a cuckold had exposed me to many situations, events and feelings that I could never have foreseen. Some were good, some bad; but by far the most disconcerting and emotional was holding my wife while she cried over a broken heart for another man.

  It was a tough time. Bea went through the grieving process of sadness, depression and anger and took much of it out on me. She erected mental, emotional and physical barriers between us which hurt me more than watching her fuck Steve ever had. At the same time I understood what she was going through. Who amongst us hasn’t had their heart broken? I supported her when she needed it, gave her space when she didn’t and tried to show that I was there for her when she wanted me.

  All cuts heal, all pains fade. Slowly Bea returned to her old self,
a bit more battered and bruised but once more recognizable as the woman I fell in love with many years ago. Our relationship improved, indeed if anything it felt stronger than ever. We shared an enhanced intimacy and understanding forged on the furnace of infidelity and loss.

  We started to have sex again and for a while I simply luxuriated in the pleasure of having Bea back all to myself. Although I would never wish that Bea’s relationship with Steve hadn’t happened there were times when it was very hard on me. Not just the sex, in fact that was almost the easy bit. The hard part was having to share Bea’s time and affections with another man, particularly when it was obvious that Steve was getting the lion’s share of these. This is not to say that I was miserable or regretful about the situation. In truth I found Bea’s obsession with another man extremely stimulating and the more emotionally involved she got, and the more I was subsequently denied, the greater the cuckold angst I craved ate into my psyche. However I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did. I should have seen both the risk I was running of losing Bea and/or the inevitable pain she would suffer if the affair ended. Naively I just thought it would run its course, everyone would part as friends and things would return to normal; or at least as normal as things can be once you’ve watched your wife cumming with someone else.

  So for a while I put my cuckold leanings to one side and simply enjoyed re-establishing my relationship with Bea. However the need to be cuckolded is one that is intrinsically embedded within me and by its own volition my mind returned once again to thoughts of Bea with another man. I tested the waters by asking Bea while we were having sex if she ever missed having Steve’s cock inside her. Her response was, to put it mildly, immediate, negative and left me in not doubt that for her at least the hotwife door was firmly closed.

  I was saddened by her reaction but also understood and tried to suppress my darker desires. This was helped by the fact that Bea’s approach to sex had changed since our experience with Steve. Although she was once again exclusively mine in bed, she was no longer quite the same. For a start she was a lot more dominant and demanding; taking the sexual lead and placing her pleasure first. Ruined orgasms and orgasm denial slowly became the norm for me. Sex ended when Bea decided and more often than not this resulted in her being left her in a state of blissful satisfaction and me still erect and frustrated. Not that I minded. After fucking, Bea would fall asleep in my arms, relaxed, content and seemingly oblivious to my desperately swollen cock pressing against her back.

  I loved the enhanced excitement that her denial created in me and wanted to push it further but would inevitably fail; either through an inadvertent orgasm or succumbing to the overwhelming need to masturbate. I raised the possibility of using a chastity device for me with some trepidation but to my delighted surprise Bea thought it was a great idea. I ordered the first one, a generic plastic device but although it did the job okay it was bulky and uncomfortable to wear and Bea didn’t like the look of it much. Bes suggested we invest in a good quality steel device and we lay in bed together perusing chastity sites on the internet, an activity that turned us both on so much that I would often find myself between her legs licking her to an orgasm while she talked about the pros and cons of different models. Hearing my wife debating the best way to ensure my continued denial never failed to make my cock pulse and drip in my plastic cage. I was almost sad when she finally selected a device…

  When my new steel cage arrived it transformed our sex life. Although heavier it was much more comfortable to wear and subsequently my periods of confinement slowly increased in length. Instead of days I started to go for weeks without cumming and soon Bea had pushed me past my first month locked up. Bea meanwhile was the happy recipient of all my unreleased sexual energy and every orgasm she enjoyed under my tongue and fingers only served to make me want to give her more.

  The limiting factor was that Bea missed penetration and, inevitably, when I was released for this I would end up cumming. We tried numbing creams and other options but without success. Then one day I came home to have Bea greet me at the door dressed in sexy lingerie. She all but dragged me into the bedroom and had my clothes off in a minute.

  ‘I want you to fuck me,’ she commanded. Obediently I started to make my way down between her legs; fucking for me mostly consisting of going down on Bea. ‘No,’ she said, pulling me back up. ‘I mean really fuck me.’

  I was delighted. Don’t get me wrong, I do get an enormous kick out of denial and chastity but that doesn’t mean I don’t long for and hunger after being inside a woman just as much as the next man (more in fact as it doesn’t happen to me as often). I quickly knelt on the bed next to Bea expecting her to retrieve the key to my cage and unlock me. Instead she tapped my caged cock with one finger. ‘I don’t want you to fuck me with that; I want you to fuck me with this.’ She reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a large dildo attached to a complicated looking harness arrangement.

  I felt my heart flutter with excitement. Of course I’d seen pictures on the internet of men locked in chastity fucking their wives with such contraptions but while it had always intrigued me for some reason I’d never seriously considered it myself. Now as Bea attached the harness around me, my dick pressed hard against my cage in excitement.

  Soon we had it attached properly and Bea lay back and opened her legs. ‘C’mon then,’ she beckoned, giggling. ‘Come and fuck me big boy.’

  It was a strange feeling to look down and see a large phallus sticking out from between my legs. Big boy indeed. I positioned the beast at the entrance to Bea’s cunt. I could see her lips dripping with moisture and knew she was looking forward to this as much as me. I slipped the head into her and then pushed forward. Bea’s immediate reaction was to squeal. ‘Easy, dammit!’ She slapped my side. ‘You’ve got to go slow with a big one until I get used to it.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I apologized, suitably chastised but also delighted at having to learn skills that had never been applicable with my small dick. Working slowly I soon had the full length buried in my wife and started a steady rhythm. Bea’s reaction was incredible. Not as intense as she’d reacted to having Steve’s real cock inside her but still much more than I had ever elected from her before. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and thrust herself against the dildo, grunting in joy. Her posture lifted her arse up off the bed and I could feel my stiff caged cock slapping against her as I thrust. I absolutely loved it, being between my wife’s legs, fucking her and having her respond so strongly while feeling nothing myself except the gnawing frustration and denial I craved.

  Bea bit my shoulder as she shuddered and moaned her way through a strong orgasm. When she’d finished she pushed me off her and I collapsed beside her, staring fascinated at my rubber cock which was slick and shiny with her juices.

  ‘That was amazing,’ Bea groaned when she recovered. She sat up, ‘I’ll have to reward you with a blowjob.’ She moved down and wrapped her lips around the dildo, grinning up at me as she sucked and licked it clean of her juices. ‘Do you like that?’ She teased. ‘Does it feel good?’

  ‘God, yes,’ I groaned, honestly. Watching Bea playing with the cock while I couldn’t feel anything but the straining pressure of my locked dick was incredible. I realized that in fucking her like that, where she got all the pleasure while I stayed denied, I was effectively cuckolding myself. In the absence of another real lover for Bea this was as close to heaven as I could get.

  Once we’d established the strap-on as a regular part of our play my chastity periods increased and I was never again sure of when, or even if, I’d be unlocked. By the time we decided to go on holiday I was reaching a record three months in chastity.

  Bea

  The holiday was Jason’s idea for our anniversary. I’d always wanted to go somewhere hot and sunny and the Turks and Caicos Islands in the Bahamas seemed ideal. Although given Jason’s extended period in chastity I couldn’t help but tease him about the appropriateness of us flying into a place called Cockburn To
wn!

  Of course Jason couldn’t get through the security checks at the airport with a sizable chunk of steel hanging between his legs (although it was tempting to make him try…). Instead I unlocked him the morning of our departure and stowed his cage in my check-in bag. It was actually odd to see Jason without his cage on for a change and he complained that it felt strange for him too. He said he missed the weight and bulk between his legs and felt like I’d taken his dick away rather than free it. Of course this didn’t stop his cock springing up and enjoying its first unrestrained stretch in a long time. And of course as soon as that happened I could see the desire flare in Jason’s eyes. If the taxi hadn’t been due any moment I doubt I could have gotten us out of there without having him between my legs. Jason might enjoy his chastity and denial but he’s still a normal guy with only one thing on his mind, particularly after an extended period of abstinence.

  We cleared customs without any problem and once boarded settled in for the flight. As soon as the seatbelt sign went off after take-off I turned to Jason and said, ‘You need to go to the bathroom.’ Jason looked at me puzzled and then I saw a hope in his eyes. Oh dear, the poor lad thought he was going to get to join the mile high club. Instead I reached into my handbag and passed him a small pouch. I could tell by the way his face fell that he knew straight away it was his old plastic cage.

  ‘Stand up and open the overhead locker,’ I told him. ‘Holding my hand luggage shut is a small padlock with the key in the lock. Take the pouch and the lock to the bathroom, do what you have to, and then bring me the key back.’

  Shaking his head in exasperation Jason did as told. I settled back with my book and barely looked up when he returned and slipped the key into my hand. He sat back down in that slightly spread-legged way he has when he wears the thicker plastic ring around his balls. Although Jason had taken to having his cock locked up very well I knew that given his long period of confinement he was looking forward to some holiday action and release. Immediately locking him back up sent a pretty clear message that this just might not be happening. I could tell he was not happy about the situation. The truth was I’d already decided he’d get his chance for relief over the holiday; but he might not like what I had planned. I smiled quietly to myself and ignored his sulk for the rest of the flight.