In a Cuckold's mind's eye

 

Knowing that a Black Master is impregnating his Wife, in his own bed, is the ultimate emotional rush for a cuckolded husband.

Cuckold reflections

 

Cuckold William says:

Being a husband to a young and pretty Wife who is now 'owned' by a superior Black Master, can bring many emotional 'ups and downs. I have always understood the Natural Order, and why it is the future of humanity, but it is sometimes hard on us husbands' and our emotions.

We understand that their Black Master will see and appreciate our Wives' naked bodies, enjoy their soft skin and lips on their own, and their warm wet vaginas engulfing their hard dark rods. But sometimes it can be difficult to witness the developing tenderness and affection between our Wives and their Lovers. None more so than when my own Wife's Master approaches his climax and she lovingly encourages him to fill her with his seed.

So when Christina's body starts to gain weight, as her belly starts to swell and her breasts fill out I shall reflect even further on the 'ups and downs' of being a cuckold.

Cuckold Counsellor - Ch. 1

Holiday Cuckold

My lovely Wife and I have just returned from a holiday in Corfu, so if my followers have missed me I apologize but the call of sun, sea, sand and being cuckolded again was a treat I just could not miss.  Our hotel was lovely and was built on the side of a steep and rocky hill on the eastern side of the island; it had a small beach attached and a decent swimming pool.

I don’t know why I was so surprised to see one of my Wife’s old Lovers in the bar on the first night of our arrival but I should not have been because she had been busily texting someone for weeks before our departure.  His name is Nathaniel (Nat) and I knew that she still had an emotional attachment to him after all these years; he is handsome and, although in his middle forties now, still has a toned physique from keeping himself fit.  He was also accompanied by a pretty white girl who was heavily pregnant and who inevitably wore a wedding ring; clearly she was another man’s Wife.

“What is it about black men that makes our wives so attractive to them,” I whispered to my Wife as we walked up them at the bar.

“It’s the other way round you idiot,” she replied.  “Even from this distance I can see she’s hot for him.  I guess that she has left a fretting little hubby behind in UK.”

“Do you think the baby is his?” I whispered again.

“Oh Yes!” was her unambiguous reply.  “And I bet her hubby knows it too.”

“And I bet her hubby knows it too.”

 

We all got on fine and initially Nat kept a respectful distance from my Wife and paid his little amour (Melanie) all the attention she deserved.  Even I had to admit that the Nat we used to know was a different man, he was tender and caring in his attention to Melanie and it was wonderful to see how he had changed from the brash black stud that he used to be into a gentle loving mate.  That is until one afternoon when Melanie felt the baby kicking and went to bed to sleep.

We were lying on our sun beds by the pool when Nat came up and told us about Melanie’s indisposal.  He didn’t have to say anything and just held out his hand to my Wife who took it straight away and walked hand in hand with him up to our small cabin just a little way up from the beach.

As I lay there on my own all of those exciting and arousing old memories came back to me again – of her with him.  I could see in my imagination them coupled together, moving as one with her legs wide open for him; his large dark manhood powering into her like a piston on traction engine.  Her moans of pleasure and lust – his grunting with effort and lastly her screams and his growling as they both orgasm together.

all of those exciting and arousing old memories came back to me again

She returned to me about two hours later smiling and lay quietly beside me on her sun bed.  “You didn’t mind did you?” she asked.

“You already know the answer to that one,” I replied.  She smiled and I smiled because we both knew it was going to be a good holiday.

Nat continued to tend to Melanie’s needs but, as she was so pregnant he found lots of opportunity to take my Wife to the cabin.  Melanie never suspected and I was just happy to see the love of my life getting more physical loving in one afternoon (afternoons) than I could give her in a whole lifetime.

But this would not be the last we would hear of Melanie or Nat.

 

The price of that dress

 

"Well, considering that he asked me if he could take you out on a date tonight, i should think he would."

"You don't mind me going out with him tonight then Dear?"

"My Boss is a rich, handsome, highly virile, strong Black Master. What's not to mind?"

"And if he asks me to stay the night with him. Would you mind that?"

"i think i would mind if he didn't, given the price of that dress."

The Wonderful International Language of Cuckoldry

 

"Voilà mon amour on va pouvoir passer à ton fantasme, mais tu la garde encore un peu."

..........

"There my love we will be able to move on to your fantasy, but you keep it a little longer."

In a cuckold's mind's eye

 

The vision in his mind of his Wife's Master putting his hands on her naked body is something a new cuckold will have to learn to accept. A True cuckold, of course, relishes the very idea of his beautiful lady being taken by a superior man.

It Would Be An Honour To Be Cuckolded By Beauties Such As These.

 It Would Be An Honour To Be Cuckolded By Beauties Such As These.

Margot. It would be such an honour to prepare you for dates with a big, strong, and well-hung Lover. I would be such a grateful cuckold for you.

...........

Cindy, your beautiful body was made to be enjoyed by a superior man while your hubby waits at home. I would have loved to have been that cuckold.

..........

Classy Anne. Your timeless beauty should be enjoyed by the Black Master of your choice. If I was your hubby, i would be so proud to know that you live by the protocols of The Natural Order.

Our spare bed

 "Jeremy is asleep, so I thought I would come and see if you are comfortable in our spare bed"

"This is your 'spare' bed? It's a King Size Simba, one of the best in the world. And this looks like yours and Jeremy's bedroom. This ain't no 'spare bedroom'. Is it!"

"Oh you rat! You've guessed! My hubby is old fashioned and believes that all guests should be treated to the best he has to offer."

"That's very commendable, letting me experience the comfort of his own marriage bed." 

"Not just our bed either."

"Then, for whatever else is on offer, ...

 ... please tell Jeremy, I am deeply grateful."

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

 

We had enjoyed a happy Friday evening together. My Boss, Tom, had laughed at our jokes and had mildly flirted with Justine, my Wife. Who, it must be said, had been very happy to meet his attentions with smouldering eyes and intimate smiles. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that she fancies him', I thought.

"I had better get going," Tom said as he stood up to leave, "I have a big day tomorrow. But thank you for a very nice evening Paul."

He shook my hand as he moved around behind Justine's chair and leaned over to kiss her goodbye. But it wasn't a goodnight kiss. My Wife opened her lips for him and accepted his tongue into her mouth. Suitably encouraged, Tom lifted her jumper to expose Justine's breasts and proceeded to stroke them gently.

i didn't know what to do next, except to hide my small erection at what I was witnessing right before my eyes. So I did nothing. Tom, of course, knew exactly what to do.

"Shall we go?" he asked Justine, who stood up and held on to the hand he offered her.

"Good idea," she said, as her arm went around his back while his slid down the soft material of her skirt onto the cheeks of her arse.

They made it to the front door together before Tom turned to me and said, "Sorry Paul! Your pretty Wife is the 'big day' I just mentioned."

"Justine?" i exclaimed weakly. "Why?"

"You just haven't been around, have you Paul. We haven't made love in over a year and you are away all the time." She was right, I was always away from home, but then I started thinking.

A year ago Tom made me the Commercial Manager of his business and I have spent almost every other day away from home. And then there was Tom's week away in Helsinki that coincided with the week Justine supposedly spent at her sister Barbara's in Spalding. Finally, the afternoons that Tom was absent from work along with my Wife's shopping trips that lasted all day and produced so few purchases.

"But why now?" I asked. "Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because that 'something' has changed everything, and it's about time you knew that Tom is now my permanent Boyfriend," she replied as she rested her head down onto Tom's shoulder.

"Boyfriend? Is that all I am?" Tom said, as his free hand meanfully stroked Justine's tummy. We've gone a bit further down that path. Haven't we?"

"How did that happen?" I screamed at them both.

"Oh Paul," Justine replied, "clearly not with you. Besides! Haven't you heard the old saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Well in my case ...

... it grew fonder and more productive with someone else."

A nice happy wave

 

"I think David is still looking for me."

"You have got to admire his dedication. Is he trying to make sure that you haven't met up with any naked Black Masters here at Mandingo Palms?"

"No! My husband knows exactly why we both booked in to this lovely Interracial Cuckolding Resort for forteen nights."

"Then what's his issue?" "I think he wants to find me and join us."

"Then are you happy to have your husband watch while we f*ck you all night, and all day, for the next two weeks?"

"Oh I think that he would be quite happy with that arrangement. Especially now I'm off the pill."

"Then let's give cuckold david a nice happy wave."

In a cuckold's mind's eye

 

Imagining his Wife with her Black Lover is one of the many pleasures a true cuckold can experience. He can see in his thoughts the very picture of him stripping her naked like he owns her - which he now does.

Cuckold Reflections

 

Cuckold Victor says:

Paula has always enjoyed the 'dark side' of loving and, like her Sister and her Mother, my Wife has been 'owned' by many a young and handsome Black Master. As a good cuckold, I have always found it an honour to attend their happy mating and her Lovers never once saw me as a competitor. Why would they? I'm a cuckold!

Paula is very mindful of my sacrifice, so she always remembers to give me a little smile just as her Lovers first enter her with their big members. Similarly, she likes to look across the bed at me and grin just before the man erupts his seed into her. It's something I always enjoy, and why wouldn't I? I'm a cuckold!

The Story of Elaine, Jackson, and cuckold james

Chapter 28 - Epilogue

Jackson was all smiles on his return from Lewisham Hospital. He told us about the little boy who had been born earlier and the big rough Black Master showed his softer side when he told us that his brother, Luke, had passed the baby to him to hold. I could see that Elaine was impressed with this side of him, but I had begun to understand this vital and strong Black Master and like all ‘real men’ he could be offer a hard face to adversaries, or warm and generous to those he cared for. And I was beginning to realise that me, as his Mistress's cuckold, was included in the latter.

Jackson was, and is still, a man I should hate for making a cuckold of me; but I am not a fool – I now realised if it hadn't been him, it would have inevitably been another man of similar strengths and talents for making Elaine a happy lady. Additionally, I had a far greater understanding of my own strengths and talents, as well as weaknesses. I knew exactly what I was and I had little wish to change – I was happy in what I had become during that fateful week.

That Sunday night, Elaine told Jackson about my sense of disappointment at not being with them on the night she had fallen pregnant. This did not surprise my Master but he did have the good grace to apologize and, much to Elaine's surprise, promised that he would guarantee me a front seat at the next. Characteristically he had turned moment of regret to one of amusement and, anticipation for me.

That night, we went to bed happy in our new life together. Naked, I lay alongside them as they made love; proud now to wear his chains around my neck, ankle, penis (with the ‘J' uppermost), as well as the cage of emasculation that locked away my manliness for good.

 (with the ‘J' uppermost)

As I would for many times thereafter, my tongue lapped at Elaine’s charming labia and vagina to remove the salty cream that had been erupted from Jackson's manly testicles. The flow from her, unstaunched by the working of my tongue, required a period of face sitting so I could consume the remainder; this now familiar practice was to become a nightly ceremony between us for many years after. Likewise, our morning shower was to be a happy routine between the three of us.

As I had witnessed Alana’s devotion to Bruno in the Made Manor shower the previous day, it was now my turn. I understood the reason for such a loving and intimate action between cuckold and Master; it was to send him away in the morning satisfied and content – not to mention discouragement of a ‘roving eye'.

Taking Master's manhood into my mouth no longer felt strange to me, and neither was the taste of his salty cream, but that morning after we had awoke together was a very special moment in my cuckold life. I washed him thoroughly and intimately and then knelt before him in submission. The rounded glans of his warm member tasted different under the running water, but was delightfully soft on my lips and tongue nevertheless. Likewise, the long cord of flesh that hung from his groin felt delicate under the sweeping kisses from my lips and my exploring tongue. That feeling of fragility was eventually replaced with something more substantial as my, now expert, sensual attending to his arousal resulted in his member to harden in my mouth. What would have horrified me a week before now felt natural. He knew it and I knew it – we were both setting out some of the ground rules for our future lives together; I was Elaine’s sex slave and now I was his.

I was ready for his eruption. My searching hand could once again feel the contraction of his testes, as I could hear his happy groans as he approached his climax. His large manhood jumped once in my mouth and then again, and again, and again with long streams of his salty seed filling my throat, underneath and around my tongue, flooding my teeth, all to be consumed greedily by me in long drafts of warm musty fluid down my throat.

Back to work felt a like an anti-climax after the weekend, but all of my friends were there except Alan. Charles greeted me like a long-lost brother and Josh gave me a conspiratorial smile, before telling me to go upstairs and take over at Alan's commodities desk. Charles, of course, took over my Africa desk. I was never to see Alan again, but two weeks later Alana came to work dressed in an expensive business suit with a knee length skirt and black stockings – and nobody thought to comment. Shortly after her return, Josh moved upstairs to join the board of the bank, Alana was promoted to his job as Head of Currencies, and I became the Floor Supervisor on the Commodities Department.

The lovely warm weather we had enjoyed that summer had shown its fatigue earlier in my ‘cuckold week’ (as I was to come to refer to it later), and finally broke a few days after return to work. The weather returned to ‘Standard ‘English’, that is, ‘pissing down with rain’, and so it continued until Christmas which depressed everyone – except Elaine, Jackson and I. Our lives were filled with happiness, affection and let us call it what it was – my total sexual submission.

As the days, weeks, and months passed, Elaine's pretty flat tummy, with its delicate navel, gradually changed shape as the tiny being that Jackson had erupted inside her during their week of fun at Mede Manor in Wittlesea, grew gently but strongly in its warm happy nest. The reality of another man having impregnated my Wife became increasingly apparent each time she undressed for her Master's pleasure and those delightful moments when I could glance up while cleaning her labia of his potent semen.

... and those delightful moments ...

Maddie had Bruno's baby in late November, a little girl who they named Ellie, which pleased Elaine very much. This little sprite would be the first of five children that Alan's beautiful blond Wife would bear for her Master, Bruno.

One afternoon in early December Elaine and Master sat me down to discuss our wedding. The recollection of Alana's wedding was still fresh in my mind and, although I had been worried by its implications, I had found the short polyamorous service to be delightful memory. I had loved the very idea of total commitment to each other and stating so publicly, in front of witnesses of like-mind, and I wanted the same for us.

“How about Boxing Day (26th December, the day after Christmas Day, which is also a public holiday in UK),” suggested Elaine. So Boxing day it was.

Maddie, Bruno, and Alana's wedding had been celebrated while the sun was shining and in summer temperatures; ours on the other hand was celebrated in front of a log fire while snow blanketed Southern England including ‘Snowflake Beach’. No longer was the sea that calm beautiful azure colour of the warm days we had enjoyed, but was now the steel grey and white flecked angry monster that the English Channel could be in winter. The beach, which had seemed, in my imagination, to be a living and embracing entity, was now deserted of those pretty young Wives who had dressed to attract young fit Black Men. It looked sad and abandoned because of it.

... who had dressed to attract young fit Black Men,

The large room was warm, full of happy people – Wives, their Lover’s, and their cuckold’s – all wishing us a warm and wonderful future together. The Reverend Norman was his usual friendly self and seemed to take delight in joining happy threesomes together; the very fact that such ceremonies were officially discouraged by the ministry did not prevent him from doing so.

Elaine looked beautiful in a borrowed white dress (from Maddie) that accentuated her baby bump, of which she was extremely proud. Now almost five months gone, she had long ago stopped being sick in the morning and looked the picture of health and happiness, much of which could be the result of sensible nourishment, regular, routine, and considerate penetration of Master’s hard Black Member day, night, and at every other opportunity.

Jackson looked his Masterful self in a dark suit and white shirt with waistcoat; a red silk tie and black highly polished shoes completed the picture of a man at ease with his power over his Mistress and her husband. I, on the other hand, dressed in exactly the same outfit, wore a replica of Elaine's panties underneath my trousers and, unlike Master, my little penis was caged in a new metal cage that totally constricted my erections – I just didn't enjoy such pleasures anymore. I was the cuckold, and everybody there knew it to be so. Nevertheless, I knew that I was among friends in that lovely old manor house.

Elaine grabbed my hand and squeezed when Norman asked her if she committed to our polyamorous marriage, and tears of joy ran down her cheeks as she said, “I do!”. Jackson's reply was an unequivocal response, leaving none in any doubt of his wishes to have my Wife permanently as his Woman, but the room became suddenly silent when it was my turn to respond.

“And you James?” Norman – the likeable, decent, cuckolded vicar – asked. “Do you commit to this marriage?”

Why would that large hall, filled with other trios of Master’s, Mistresses, and cuckolds, suddenly fall silent at my response? Why would they think that I would want anything other than total capitulation of my manliness? Maybe , in the past, someone had backed out and caused heartbreak and embarrassment; it would have been a terrible shame to go that far and then fail to take the inevitable final step. They needn't have worried. I knew what I wanted, and it was to be Elaine and Jackson's cuckold. The intervening months since that day on the beach and the Wedding had settled the future that I desired. And my loud reply of, “I do!” resonated around the room.

As before, the congregation broke into loud and enthusiastic cheering as Elaine and Jackson spun around to envelop me in a loving embrace that squeezed the breath from me. I coughed, Jackson laughed, and Elaine cried as the three of us were clapped, congratulated, and subsequently led from the small stage to the wedding reception that had been laid out by the lovely Jenny Smith, Josie and her Lover Henry.

We had eaten, drunk, given speeches and were now chatting in small groups with glasses in our hand, when John and Jenny Smith sidled up to Elaine and I (Jackson was holding a long conversation about babies with Bruno). “I have a proposition for you James,” John said.

“Proposition?” I asked, with one eyebrow raised.

He looked sideways at his Wife, who took over the conversation. “James, do you know why this house is called Made Manor?”

I shook my head. I didn't know and, like most, hadn't even thought about it.

“What do you know about the book Mandingo?”

“Very little. It was a nice film with Susannah York. That's it really,” was my inadequate and embarrassed response.

Jenny smiled at my awkward response and said, “Don't worry James. You’re not alone. But we named this Manor House after the hero of that book, he was called Mede and he was the black slave who bedded the Lady of the Falconhurst Plantation who was called Blanche. It is a particularly horrible story and ends very badly, but we think that naming our lovely house after such a man highly appropriate.”

“I understand,” I replied, although I didn't. ‘Where's she going with this’, I wondered.

“We have a ‘fun room’ in the Manor,” Jenny continued.

“What kind of ‘fun room?’ Sounds interesting.”

Jenny looked amused and John had a wide smile on his face as he answered, “We call it the Blanche Room.”

I was intrigued; so I asked the obvious question, “Dare I ask what it is for?”

Neither said a word as Jenny took my hand and discretely led me out of the room, down a long corridor, and into another large hall at the far end of the manor. I looked around at the soft lights, tables and chairs, small bar, and stage area; it looked like a more sophisticated dance hall. There were one or two couples at the bar, two ladies who were chatting over soft drinks but that was all except the sign over the door at the far end of the room that said, ‘Blanche’s Room’.

As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I noticed that Blanche's Room was in fact a circular room within the hall. It was about forty feet in diameter with windows in the walls and soft chairs for external spectators to comfortably view the internal activities. One small, naked man, was already sat watching intently – eyes fixed hypnotically on whatever was happening inside. Indeed seemed to be naked, but then I spotted the cage at his groin, and then his little red leather collar around his neck, and then finally the pretty little ankle chain that tinkled as he moved his right foot to a rhythm that I couldn't hear.

“Hi Martin,” Jenny called to the man, “who's Brenda with today.”

The man turned, startled at the interruption, and then smiled at the pretty red-headed woman who still held my hand. “Oh hello Jen!,” he replied looking red faced, “Brenda is with Big Deven today.”

“Brenda is with Big Deven today.”

“Are you not joining them?” she asked. “I know you like to sometimes don’t you.”

“No need to,” he responded, turning back to the view through the window, “Simon has it all under control.”

“Simon is in there! That's good,” Jenny exclaimed. And then turning to me she said, “I want you to meet Simon, but he may be a little busy at the moment. Let's go in, but please be quiet.”

I was intrigued. ‘Why be quiet’ I thought; but I was about to find out. The inner sanctum of the Blanche Room, was even darker than the hall and was only lit by two small dimly red bedside lights either side of the very, very, large round bed that almost filled the room except a small gap of two feet around its circumference.

The aforementioned Brenda was lying on her back on the bed, legs wrapped around a huge young Black Man's back (presumably Deven) as his long, thick manhood powered rhythmically in and out of her vagina. She was pretty with small breasts that bounced daintily in time to the thrusting that she was undoubtedly enjoying. Deven I recognized as one of the many young Black Men that I had seen on the beach in the summer enjoying the attentions of those young Wives that had come with their husbands to take delight in happy liaisons with dark strong Lover’s.

“Hi Simon,” Jenny whispered into the dark, “I want you to meet James. He's a cuckold like you.”

I looked around and only after a second or two, did I spot another semi-naked man kneeling close by the bed. Like Martin (who was probably Brenda’s hubby), Simon had a cage on his penis (a large Black one), a collar with brass loops, and ankle chain; unlike Martin, he also wore high heeled shoes, black stockings that were attached to a red garter belt and black see-through panties. He smiled at our approach around the bed – I shook his proffered hand.

“It's a bit of a slow day,” he said to us both, as if apologising.

“We can wait,” Jenny said, “I don't think Deven is going to be long.”

Simon, who like me, was a small man, although a little younger, was handsome but without the ruggedness of truly good-looking men. And like me, he looked at home in feminine lingerie.

Although thoroughly immersed in the carnal pleasures of being had by the strong Black Master for whom her legs had been wide open, the lovely Brenda had hardly made a sound as his big member had ploughed her pink and welcoming tunnel of love apart from the occasional sigh of contentment. Nevertheless she had met Deven’s needs with her own.

The pretty young Wife started to groan as even further sensations of orgasm rocked through her body: likewise the man with the Black body, now shiny with perspiration, moaned as his approaching eruption gathered in a storm of pent up release of his seed. And Brenda was more than ready to accept it deep into her body – to flood her cervix and potentially to fertilize her eggs.

Her screams filled the room as his great dark rod pulsed and spurted hot streams of semen into her welcoming body. Again and again Deven hammered into her at each eruption as she clawed at his shoulders and pulled with her heels clamped on his arse cheeks to ram his manhood as far inside as it could possibly go. He was deep inside her and she wanted to keep him there.

Eventually, he rolled off her with his long dark member trailing a string of semen across her thigh as he rolled onto his back beside her; their lovemaking was at an end, or so I thought. Simon was like a coiled spring as he leapt from his position beside the bed to position himself between Brenda’s long legs. His head immediately dropped to her thighs as his tongue flicked out to lick up the trail of warm seed, this was quickly followed by him planting his face directly onto her wide open vagina that oozed copious streams of white fluid.

Greedily but expertly he lapped at the ejaculate that continued to appear at the entrance to her vagina. It was an intense but private moment between a Woman and the lesser man and, in spite of the sweaty, smelly, and sticky nature of the activity, I thought the whole action to be one of beauty and acceptance of one's harmless depravity. But my thoughts were interrupted.

“James,” Jenny said in my ear, “why don’t you take over from Simon. He can then get Deven going again.”

“Can I?”

“Of course you can Dear.”

I jumped up from the floor and, after touching Simon on the shoulder to ask him to move, I lifted Brenda's thighs over my shoulders and buried my face into her labia. I licked, slurped, swallowed, and consumed every last drop of Deven’s musty juice while out of the corner of my eye I could see Simon’s head bobbing up and down on the head his rubbery dark fleshy organ. Without consulting anyone I decided that I should demonstrate my willingness to be a part of this happy foursome so, reaching across the bed, I wrapped my hand around the base of the warm dark flesh to hold the dark cock steady for Simon's intimate care.

Brenda also wanted to progress the tiny orgy to which I was a willing partner. With her hands pushed down into the bed, she lifted her willow young body up and moved her legs from my shoulders. Deftly, while keeping her hand on the back of my head so to keep my face in contact with her pussy, she shifted her legs so she was now kneeling on the soft mattress. Pushing her groin forward, she bent my head back to a position of total submission; her body was now upright and her vaginal entrance was immediately above my mouth.

“Do you want it all, little cuckold?” the pretty Wife said as the increased flow of semen filled my mouth.

The end of my nose nudged her clitoris as I nodded eagerly, and happily fed on the cream of Mede Manor’s finest Black Masterly youth.

“What a great team,” exclaimed Jenny as I moved away from Brenda's soft and sticky fulcrum to enable Simon to guide Deven’s erect and ‘ready for action‘ member back to Brenda's vaginal entrance.

“Oh God yeah!” breathed Brenda as her young Black Lover slid back inside her to claim her again.

“Thank you James,” Martin said needlessly as Jenny and I left Brenda, Deven, and Simon to their happy and wet sticky pleasures.

“Well then cuckold james. Will you?” Jenny asked as we walked back across the large hall and into the corridor.

“Will I what Jenny?”

“Pair up with Simon and be a Mating Assistant in the Blanche Room?”

I was astounded at the offer and Jenny could see that I had questions to ask. But I could do it; I had liked what I had done in that warm and intimate room, however it wasn't as easy as just giving up everything.

“I have a job Jenny. I like it and it pays well. I live over fifty miles away from here, so it would mean giving all that up to live down here in Sussex.”

“You wouldn't have to. Simon could cover the day to day, whereas you could come and join us whenever you would like to,” she said.

I looked at her. “You're serious aren't you.”

“We think you would be ideal James,” said John's voice behind me. But he continued after he proceeded to slowly walk beside Jenny and I. “Every month we have a Cuckold's Night here at the Manor and the Blanche Room is so popular that poor old Simon cannot keep up with the ecstatic frenzy of it all. Believe me, it can get very busy in there some nights. So do you think that could be something you could help us with?”

‘Poor old Simon? Who are you kidding?’ I had loved the whole thing in that room. I needed no further persuading, “I think so,” was my tentative reply.

“We also have V.I.P Nights.”

“V.I.P?”

“Important people,” John replied. “Famous actors and actresses, business leaders, politicians, and .....,” he paused to inspect my reaction, “and .... minor Royalty.”

“How minor?” I asked, intrigued (not for the first time).

“You'll find out if you join our happy team.”

“And will you?” Jenny chimed in with the big question.

I had previously observed , as we had walked across the hall to the corridor, the two ladies who had been sat at the table had been joined by two young Black Men who had held put their hands to the very interested Wives. Each stood up, stepped out of their short dresses and walked naked (except for shoes and thong), hand in hand with each young stud to the Blanche Room. I had also noticed the pure anticipation of pleasure and happiness on their faces in the expectation of and afternoon and evening of Black Loving; and it had helped me to decide.

“Of course I will Jenny. When do I start?”

I write of these moments in my Epilogue, because this happy little duty was to become a large part of my social life. There would be many times I would kneel between a young, and not so young, Wife's legs, dressed in what would become a standard Mating Assistant’s dress code, while being watched (mostly) by her cuckold through the glass windows.

... standard Mating Assistant’s dress code, 

In all that time I have lost count of the dark organ’s I have resurrected back to hardness. And in case you are wondering dear reader, royalty sounds, moves, and orgasms just like everybody else; they smell and taste the same as well.

Geraldine Jones, the Reverend Norman Jones Wife, would have a little boy in the February of the following year, which had absolutely no effect on his career in the church and, by his own admission, gave him a more compassionate and forgiving approach to his pastoral duties.

My neighbours either side of my house in Blackheath, continued their lives in much the same way they had before. Sheila and Henry were very much the happy interracial couple but we saw less and less of Jack, her husband, until one day we noticed that Jack was no longer in the house. They told us that he had gone to live with his sister in Sunderland (good luck with that Jack.). Gwen and Charlie (the cuckold) continued in their enjoyment of being sex slaves in the parties that I later found out were organised and held by John Smith's Black Master Organisation. And the pretty slave Gwen eventually became the poster girl for the BMO Slave Party ‘in house magazine'.

 ... the poster girl for the BMO
Slave Party ‘in house magazine'.

Elaine’s tummy and breasts swelled inexorably so in late April of the following year she developed high blood pressure and went into Lewisham Maternity for fourteen days close observation. As a trio, we had all agreed that we did not want to be told of the baby's sex before the birth – we wanted a surprise.

Baby Jack was born at 6.52 on the morning of the 3rd of May, weighing in at nine pounds four ounces (4.2Kg), and both Jackson and I were at Elaine's side as she went into labour and gave birth. Jack was like his father, strong handsome and alert almost from the very first day, and such attributes would stay with him through childhood and into maturity.

Baby Chelsey was born to us three years later, almost to the day, weighing in at seven pounds eight ounces (3.4Kg) and possessed Elaine’s eyes and caring disposition. She became a wonderful daughter of whom I have always been so very proud.

Alana, was to become a member of the board of the bank to sit alongside Josh; so, as such a position, she would be given complimentary tickets to many of the top London Premiership sides. One week we could be in one of the hospitality boxes at Arsenal Football Club, the next could be Tottenham, West Ham, or Chelsea. As Charlton FC slipped away to relative obscurity we didn't miss being best mates in the cold and wet, watching our team lose every week; we now enjoyed dating as a couple, which Maddie and her Master Bruno approved of wholeheartedly. We even occasionally booked into a London West End hotel as man and wife for the night, that is when I was not committed to the Blanche Room duties; she would often tell me that my visits to that wonderful Manor in Sussex had enhanced my fellatio skills beyond measure – but who was measuring? Not me!

Just like all of us, John and Jenny Smith grew older and seven years after I had met him, John died. Jenny, although devastated at her loss and after a decent mourning period, married her long-time Black Lover, Nathaniel. John’s legacy lives on however, and by being a multi billionaire, he had already started to set up the Black Master Organisation which, operating out of London's West End, has brought countless unsatisfied Wives into the arms of strong Black Masters.

The BMO HAS become an institution within the quieter reaches of society. That doesn't mean that only the well-connected enjoy its services, but it does mean that you can search and still not find any reference to it in any newspaper or social reports. Like many good things, it is an open secret.

I have contemplated many times in the last few years just why I became a cuckold. Many would call Elaine a bitch for cheating on me and it must be said she has often told me that she regretted being dishonest and not having the ‘I have something to tell you’ chat with me. Nevertheless, I have seen Jackson's attributes at work (and up very close), so in my estimation there would not be many Wives who would refuse his attentions if he focussed his attentions on seducing her – the man is a quality machine while simultaneously being deeply human. He is clever, funny when he wants to be, compassionate, and has a strong aura about him that can somehow induce failure in panty elastic (metaphorically of course). In other words, Elaine and I never stood a chance and we were his couple before we even knew it.

Jackson had never been reticent about telling me that, as a younger Master going through the Mede Manor schooling, he had enjoyed the pleasures of mating with many white Wives in the Blanche's Room. “Some of the ladies,” he said one day when we were discussing the BMO, “were there to be impregnated by Black guys like me while their husbands watched. So I guess there may be one or two other little ‘Jacks' or ‘Chelseys’ running around out there. But you could tell just who the ‘breeders were, just by their hubby’s tendency to dress in a certain way.”

... hubby’s tendency to dress in a certain way.”

After leaving Mede, Jackson had made his way in the world on his quick wit and intelligence, plus the knowledge of the wine trade that he had acquired from John. And whilst doing so he had availed himself of many a pretty white Wife through the BMO White Mistress Order (where husbands pay for the honour of making their Wives available to Black Studs), or just by meeting and seducing a willing young Wife. “I never went with single girls,” he once said, in reply to my question, “because they have a right to expect commitment from a guy like me. And that was not fair to them. Or what I wanted.”

But like many playboys (for want of a better word), the unthinkable happened. Jackson fell in love with a pretty London girl who already had a husband – a small man who worked in a bank, and who loved his Wife like he had never loved anything or anybody before and was prepared to do anything to keep her in his life. And so it began, Elaine reciprocating his Love for her by opening her legs to accept his manhood and potent seed into her body while her hubby knew nothing – until the small bundle growing inside her brought the whole affair to a head. My cuckold week.

That ‘doing anything to keep her’ very soon became a way of life; and I do mean A WAY OF LIFE not the pretentious ‘lifestyle choice' that many use to describe cuckolding. Once one has accepted their unmanning and submission, and wants the very best for one's Wife, then living as a cuckold can free a husband from any pretence of being a real man (whatever that means) and can adapt his sexuality to suit himself, his Mistress, and his Master.

And that is what I have discovered on my long journey. I have been a total cuckold, I still am, I shall be in the future, and I have never been happier with my life.

The end.