A Borrowed Wife Not Returned

A continuation of a fictional tale with some familiar real-world characters doing what they may or may not do in the real-world if given the chance. As the title implies, this is a tale of cuckolding and infidelity, if such is offensive to sensitive readers, or ones that can't differentiate between what is fantasy, and reality, I suggest the Hallmark channel as an alternative. These characters are intentionally imperfect by design; but really aren't we all?

To almost everybody else on the planet that doesn't require such a disclaimer, I apologize for this "caution, this hot coffee is hot" PSA moment, but such is apparently the world we presently live in...

...To recap a bit; Ken and I had just returned from a fabulous hubby-paid-for two week vacation down in the islands, so we've returned to the proverbial scene of the crime to collect my marooned husband, left behind at our camper back in the states while Ken and I had our fun in the sun. Two weeks earlier we had transported him the whole way there, and dumped him off, nude, with except of his emasculating clear-plastic Holy Trainer nub chastity device. So marooned in the middle of nowhere on Ken's remote land for his own two weeks solo vacation.

I had packed a special kind of a suitcase for him though, and in it was an alter-ego feminine kit I had put together, consisting of some new things, as well as some hand-me-downs from my own closet. It was intentionally nothing the least bit masculine to wear, unless of course he wanted to go nude the whole time instead. So solo self-feminization, or ala-natural in his quasi-masculine skin were his two options for his sequestered stay in our camper. So lots of time to ponder the future, and his own life choices going forward; in other words a giant mind F either way he went.

That suitcase was my own very special gift to him, so he could try out his dressed feminine alter-ego for more than a few hours at a time, in private, all see if that was something he wanted. Hubby had about zero interest in other men though, or really any kind of intimacy at all these days, so where this little "dress-up" adventure might lead was still anybody's guess at this point...

This vacation of ours had also been paid for by my husband, as he originally intended to go with me himself, but simply put, Ken's post-divorce mindset meant that his apparent need was greater than my giving husband's. So, with my husband's encouragement Ken went in his place while playing the part of my loving husband, and he took over a greater part of my heart as a result. Perhaps not exactly where I wanted it to go myself, but to also be honest with myself I did allow for the possibility with my unanswered physical needs. So not behind hubby's back, but still providing some small measure for quasi plausible-deniability at this point. So, to walk an impossibly fine line here, hubby "knows," all without "knowing" if he so chooses; mental cuckold gymnastics at it's finest!

Ken and I have a long history together, and from a certain point of view this was just picking up where we'd left off on my deck during the heatwave, so a quite natural progression once given the go-ahead alone-time opportunity. Hubby gave us this, selflessly, way back on that hot night by pretending to be ignorant of the building lust and inuendo Ken and I were giving each other.

So maybe not one hundred percent strategically wise on my husband's part, but surely selflessly generous and giving; and surly not "out of the blue" unanticipated either. Nothing evil though, Ken was just accepting that which was graciously offered by implication, which in all reality was potential long-term ownership of both a husband and a wife. Ken was perfect for this role in our lives, because he had played a version of this once before for us, although this time his act was a bit more refined, his own strategic goals a bit more obvious.

...So on the flight down, with a million conflicting emotions bouncing around in my head, short on sleep, and just a few hours after dumping my selfless hubby's bare-ass off at the camper, we met a young couple named Cathy and Henry. And unbeknownst to them they had casually chosen a new "dressed" name for my left-behind husband, suggesting Rose as "her" feminine name. At first they thought they were helping us name a new pet we were coming home to, so in an ironic prescience kind of way maybe a half-truth.

To be fair, hubby's manly-dysfunction had him seeing life from a softer more feminine side anyway, (long before Ken and I hooked up on the deck) so he's more like a close girlfriend these days. And while he's still loved, he's also incrementally much less like a husband to me.

Along those lines of reasoning, if men swagger a bit when they're "gettin it right" with the ladies in their life, isn't the reverse also likely true, that men who fall short of expectations also feel that intuitively?

...Ken and I (in an ad hoc little private ceremony inspired by none other than hubby himself) had "lost" the only two keys to his chastity device in the ocean, the same ones he had given each of us to presumably keep safe. So fair to say a bit of symbolism there; hubby had gifted us those keys to his chastity-encased defective masculinity, and we casually discarded such as superfluous, with Ken now there to fill the void. So not quite a full-snip emasculation, but surely leaning in that general psychological direction, all to self-deport hubby and make room in my life for Ken.

So, while I still love my husband, I also love Ken a bit more deeply now, and my gratitude for what he brings to the table can't be understated. And while I'll always appreciate what hubby lets me have, the life we've had together as well, I really appreciate what Ken gives in his place, making me feel vibrant and alive again.

Anyway, this is the next part of the adventure, and a necessary new understanding for all three of us...

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..."So Mrs. B, how confident are you in this seven year thing?" hubby asks quietly as Ken starts to walk towards the camper for another load, but I can also see in Ken's face that his goodwill here is coming to an end. He was a bit twisted up about hubby's presumed demise, (we both were) but that was like a half-hour ago, and he's so getting over that now with every step he takes. Ken is obviously letting hubby and I have our time, sort things out face to face, but his own generosity has it's limits.

Ken generally speaking isn't a "hugger" either, not of other men anyway, but he was so genuinely relieved to see that hubby was fine and healthy that he hugged up on him anyway, even dressed up as he was. Guys being anything but masculine kind of takes Ken in an uncomfortable direction though, and hubby's little hand-me-down tennis skirt and frilly pair of panties was certainly quite far from masculine. Yes, the culture is changing, and I think it's wonderful that people feel free to express themselves however they wish, but at the same time Ken was pretty much "old-school" manly. I generally liked that aspect of Ken's character, dare I say that I preferred it, as it was a more natural compliment to my own feminine one.

I also know that Ken's still quite grateful for hubby's many personal sacrifices here, (he'd have to be an oaf not to be) but just like at the drop-off two weeks prior, Ken's also likely mindful of the parts we must all play now, so that he gets to keep the prize he's earned. Ken's no longer borrowing me though, he's keeping now, that vibe is in the air for both of us. The shirtdress I'm wearing hints at this as well, Ken likes me in dresses, hubby knows this too...

Forever with Ken though? Well, forever is a very long time, most especially for Ken where romantic relationships are concerned, but this is both hubby's and my own lingering question, the five or seven year thing. So obvious food for thought for myself as well on playing our parts faithfully here, how long this "play" will run is the obvious question.

Hubby's tone here is familiar and loving, so no overt grudge or conflict, but it's also quite natural for him to want to understand where he fits into this new Ken and I relationship too though. So Ken and I... and hubby too, but where exactly, and for how long exactly.

Hubby's "Mrs. B" moniker has also now been used with me twice, it's no accident at this point. So maybe a subtle reminder that I'm still his wife with a shared last name, the one he gave me a long time ago, along with a ring. I'm not presently wearing that ring, nor most certainly acting like his faithful wife either, but hubby's still wearing his ring, so there's perhaps a message in that too, one of mono-directional commitment; which could of course be another term for obsession, or I suppose even possession. I own hubby's heart exclusively, (I always have) although I share my own now, somewhat unequally between two men, so a built in conflict without some firm barriers established.

"Ken had been there for that other notable 'ring-moment' as well though, as best man in our wedding, he even handed hubby those rings himself before friends and family, funny if you think about it like that" I tell myself.

...I further wonder what that was like for Ken back in the day, selflessly aiding hubby, his best friend, claim me for himself, name and all; perhaps from a today's point of view a prize he may have wanted for himself on some level. For myself, that entire part of my life was a bit surreal, but I was young and overwhelmed, so in the weeks and months leading up to the actual wedding, hubby and I were perhaps a bit too busy to notice how this effected Ken. Not hubby's, nor my own best moments, but it was nothing evil either as we were very much in love and more focused on each other. Ken had a place with us back then too though, but a lesser secondary place...

To be fair though, Ken didn't push that issue at all back then, he took the high-road as a best friend should, even with our earlier shared intimate exploits to muddy the waters. Still it's a bit "full-circle" surreal for Ken to be in my life like this again, and I further wonder if he doesn't have some buried regrets of his own, most especially with two failed marriages now under his belt. If I had sinister thoughts I'd think this is why Ken had stayed in our lives all along, lived close by, all to be there if the opportunity ever availed itself.

"Was I perhaps the single antidote to Ken's own relationship problems?" I asked myself.

"You know, seven years would technically make us common-law married ourselves" I tell hubby flippantly with a somehow straight face. Then I ask how confident he is in his five year assessment. Hubby's "SHIT! I didn't think about that" deer in the headlights look was priceless to see, so presented this way maybe not a proper divorce, (that neither of us truly wants) but way more than our friends with benefits arrangement of the past; so more connotations of keeping, as opposed to borrowing. We've talked on the phone about something vaguely more long-term, conceptually, even some of the "nuts and bolts" things, but this was perhaps "in your face" real now, with either of our stated timelines.

The legal ramifications were obviously a bit tenuous anyway, I'm really not clear on if you can be common-law married to another while still being legally married to the first, but I'm no lawyer either. We have casual friends that are walking this line themselves, the husband living on the bottom floor, and the wife with her long-term boyfriend in the master suite upstairs, and I'm reminded that I should reach out to them, just to say hello. Really I just said the seven year thing to playfully twist hubby up a bit, lighten the mood, but the words formed in my brain and have left my lips, and there is no taking them back. So perhaps a slight push-back on the Mrs. B thing, reminding him that another has a claim now, so still subtle, and well short of a rebuke.

There's a near-sexual light in his eyes now, so if I've twisted hubby up with my flippant common-law suggestion, he isn't responding like one might expect a husband to do under the circumstances. Hubby tells me he doesn't think his "little thing" will ever work again anyway, but after seven years, or for that matter even five, it really-really won't work. So fair to say that he's been thinking about this condition of his, perhaps even this exact scenario with Ken as the long-term antidote to my celibacy, and still there's zero interest in seeing a special doctor, humiliation be damned. So, in other words he's good with his dysfunction, it's who he is now...

He's therefore not put off by this five year commitment with Ken in our lives either, but instead excited by the possibility; I hear it in his tone, see it in his eyes. So, in my mind he's already been emasculated, mentally-neutered by both the lost-key locked-on device, as well as Ken's intimate presence in our life again; even though his actual guy hardware is obviously still attached, presumably still doing something. Ken is there for me though, so maybe this is a kind of freedom for hubby, free from guilt for his non-performance, knowing that another trusted man has that covered. Non-performance, and no desire to perform either, so two interrelated masculine problems.

...That's something else he's started, ever since his dysfunction, describing his guy parts in non-flattering terms. It's like he's wanting me to jump on the mocking-bandwagon myself, but a part of me also sees this as a logical next step, disparaging and mocking that which doesn't work. Humor keeps hubby sane, makes some things a bit less serious for him, so a kind of mental armor for him.

In my mind it's still cruel, and I've resisted the urge to play long for that reason, for the most part anyway. But he's subtly encouraging this "path of emasculation," this ever-diminishing manly role in my life, and with Ken in the picture now it's somehow easier for me to engage in this mild form of private humiliation. Not some of my finer moments to be sure, but no excuses either, other than I was maybe humoring hubby's self-deprecating humor, giving what he wished, all in exchange for what I now know I needed.

Ken had even drifted into a bit of this himself, when he had first seen my nude and shaved hubby wearing only his tiny chastity device, saying something like "wow, that's small!" Whether Ken was specifically remarking on hubby's present day shrunken endowment, or the device itself was perhaps left a bit unclear though. It wasn't delivered with anything but a tone of sincerity though, and maybe that's what made it ring so true, made it so profound. Yes, the H.T. nub is quite tiny, and what it contains has shrunken from extended inactivity as well. It may sound cliche, but if they made a smaller one, that one would likely fit hubby too, perhaps even better than the nub.

That early morning hubby was there in our kitchen on full naked display for us though, and his own reaction to that little episode with Ken wasn't anything close to resistance either, in fact, looking back on that moment now, hubby drifted further down into the submission rabbit-hole after that. He's comfortable in that submission though, to myself, even to Ken, both Ken and I've seen it first hand, sometimes accompanied by a shared look between us. He's happy in his servitude, it's a great submissive hiding place, and maybe at this point we just need to stop asking why this works for him, and simply enjoy the gift of his selfless labors.

"So here's my offer, if you'll accept the terms" hubby tells me quite seriously.

"If you guys are still a happy couple five years from now, if this isn't just that 'new man smell' for you, get me neutered, like for-real, call me Rose, dress me up, anything you two want, with one hundred percent willing cooperation on my end. And, if you're happily together for the full seven, maybe I take off my ring and put it in the lockbox, and this is just the way it is going forward. Think about it, you and Ken would be happily common-law married, and this way Ken wouldn't have to take still another walk down the isle, it's perfect really" hubby offers optimistically.

"Perfect for Ken maybe, as in zero manly competition, and from a certain point of view even perfect for me as well; but the cost..." I tell myself, "as in what kind of man makes an offer like this, or for that matter what wife accepts it?"

"Either a man that doesn't feel very worthy of being a man, or one that loves me that much" I tell myself logically.

"Or perhaps both" I realize a second later.

His words, if in text form, might suggest that he's making a dark kind of joke here, but both his expression and tone says he's dead serious. I myself had made the neutered-dog suggestion earlier, but playfully, as a joke, in regards to the tiny chastity device he's encased within. Neutered dogs are still dogs though, they still serve a purpose, do a job even, and they're most certainly still loved; and they're also quite obedient and focused without all those urges distracting them too.

My face initially tells hubby that it's no-deal, it's perhaps darkly tempting to humor him for a bit here, test the bounds of his kink like this, but in my mind I'm just not going there, altering his body. At the same time I also realize that he's given so much of himself here, in a way he's even more invested in this than Ken and I are. He's therefore very "out of the box" thinking at the moment, I'd even say thinking with his guy parts maybe; although that's unlikely. Still this is likely a result of his extended alone time, in combination with his recent erotic reading choices. This tiny chastity device has also detached him from his guy parts though, metaphorically speaking, and the conclusion I'm coming to is maybe on some level he's happier without them.

"Undeserving, or unburdened?" I wonder.

Five years is also a very long time, both to get Ken over this midlife hurdle of being unmarried once again, as well as for hubby to reconsider what he's put on the proverbial chopping block. That's however a double edged sword, because after five presumably happy years with Ken, in my bed, every night, hubby's guy parts either being there or not will likely be even less important to me than they are now, so pretty much irrelevant. I'll be used to having a part-time maid, (even if he's still dressed as a man while serving us) and doing just as much of the cooking and cleaning myself as I wish; not to mention that Ken and I will presumably be used to having each other as often as we wish as well. Not to mention that if it's somehow possible for hubby to go the whole distance while still wearing that little plastic device, he'll know for certain, by then, that he can live without his little man bits forever.

"Be careful what you wish for oh 'flobbly one'" I respond with a bit of snark to preview how playfully evil I could be for him, all while staring down towards hubby's caged and inert guy parts under his borrowed clothing, (so addressing them directly, all so they get the message directly) "...you might just get it!" I warn, with a wagged index finger.

Hubby has pushed for a bit of this snark lately though, he likes it when I talk down to him when "in the moment." It's not something I was ever comfortable with earlier, but so much has changed here with Ken back in my life that I'm changing myself. Not outright public disrespect, (can't go there) but some playfully harsh comments, delivered with a smile, and also some love too though.

"I double-dog dare you!" hubby taunts, clearly playing into the dog-aspect of this, and clearly trying to top from the bottom as well, all to give himself what he really thinks he wants here, as in no path back after the offered five year commitment, no matter if he changes his mind later on. His kink for this extreme "solution" will eventually pass, "it has to" I tell myself, and the vacuum of reality will seep in, perhaps gradually, perhaps explosively as the chop-date approaches.