Free cuckold community
Sign up now!
The end of 2025 was fast approaching and boyfriend had well and truly moved in and made himself comfortable as the man of the house and ‘husband’ to my wife. He had a lot of stuff, which took up any spare space we had, including my ‘man cave’ garage. The only room where he did not have anything was my bedroom which was my space where I could decompress and the only time I really pushed back was when it was suggested he ‘temporarily’ stored some items in my room. By now the neighbours were giving us funny looks and we were obviously the subject of much gossip, it was obvious that boyfriend was more than a lodger as he frequently went out with my wife and they would walk around the neighbourhood arm in arm or hand in hand.
Our roles became much clearer, with me doing all the housework, shopping, cooking etc. I would prepare meals for both of them, most weekdays I would eat with them but weekends they would do their own thing. I had to start buying particular foods and drinks that boyfriend liked, keeping the fridge stocked with his favourite beers. Boyfriend did not pay anything, to this day there has never been any sign of any rent or payment from boyfriend that I was aware of, despite him getting considerable income extra from the rent of his flat.
Away from the kinky side our lives were quite normal, with us all going about our daily lives, working and going through our routines. In what I think of as the ‘vanilla hours’ we were just like housemates, calling each other by our first names, asking how the other persons day was. My wife and boyfriend clearly got on well and although I have heard the odd disagreement I have never heard them argue. Seeing them living together I noticed the small touches of affection and their body language around each other.
In what I think of as the ‘kinky’ hours. Our lives were quite different. My wife and boyfriend / husband would appraise my performance as a cuck and house servant, it could be anytime but usually at the weekends. If I did well, my wife would still give me her used underwear and heels to wank over as a reward for my duties. If they found fault then they would both tell me off, my wife typically removing my privileges and allowance (my wages are paid into our joint account which my wife manages). The telling off normally consists of a question and answer with either of them telling me how I have not met the required standard and me apologising profusely, then my wife or boyfriend saying what my punishment is i.e. my wife withholding my allowance, a wanking ban, having to stand in the corner for an hour or two. Weekend mornings I would listen to them having sex, when they were done my wife would text me and I would take them breakfast in bed. During these ‘kinky hours’ I call her ‘Mistress’ or ‘Maam’ and him ‘Sir’ and they refer to me as ‘cuck’ or ‘cucky’ which they both clearly enjoy and I admit I did too.
As this was now his home he naturally started to have friends and family as visitors. Christmas 2025 we did not have the dilemma of of previous years of how my wife was going to split her time as we all lived together. His parents lived a way away but they chose to visit London for a weekend in December and wanted to see where their son was living. After some discussion with my wife we decided it would be better if I was not there (he had told them he had moved in with my wife as she was divorced). So I book a cheap hotel not far away and stayed there for the night whilst they were visiting. The real issue arose when he started to have friends around, first a mate or two. I came home one day and he was chatting in the kitchen with my wife and a mate of his. I said hello and scuttled off to my room. To be honest I am not sure how much his mates know about our arrangement, when I ask my wife she will never give me a straight answer but I suspect they know a lot.
In January he hosted a poker night with his mates on a Friday evening. After discussing it with my wife I decided not to run off to the hotel again. I mean I can’t do this every time he has friends round it is his home now after all and I would have to get used to it. So I just said I would stay in my room watching TV and just pop down to get my dinner, myself a drink etc.
Friday night came around and to my surprise my wife got dressed up to play ‘the hostess’. Apparently his mates were all single (or near enough) so she was going to play the part serving drinks and food. When she appeared just before they arrived in her outfit I saw what she meant. It was a tight little black dress, the hem came down to mid / upper thigh, when she bent forwards you could just make out her black stocking tops. She wore her designer black heels that made her legs look amazing.
“I am going to give them some eye candy” she told me.
When boyfriend / husband saw her even he said “that’s a bit much! Matt (his mate) has not had any in weeks he will be all over you!”
“Promises promises….” my wife replied
When I heard the doorbell ring I scurried off to my room, I listened to the hellos from the top of the stairs. Each guest complemented my wife on her outfit when they arrived.
I must admit I did not watch much TV that Friday evening, I hovered at the top of the stairs listening in, or creeping down to the kitchen to get myself food and peering into the living area where they were playing cards. What I heard and saw did rather surprise me, my wife was revelling in playing the sexy hostess, tottering around on her sky high heels, topping up drinks and placing food on the table, leaning over the table giving them all an eyeful. She was enjoying the sexist comments and being objectified by the group of men. It surprised me because with me she has always been a staunch feminist, championing equal opportunities for women at her work. Now observing her being the centre of and encouraging sexist behaviour was a bit of a shock. As the evening wore on the sounds from downstairs became louder and louder and at one point I did wonder where this was leading, what was boyfriend going to allow? But at 2am I heard the door close as the last of his guests left. I heard my wife and boyfriend going to bed, and what followed was the loudest fuck I ever heard them have. He really gave her the drunken fuck of her life from the sound of it, I heard him say very loudly “you behaved like a complete slut tonight” and then the sound of the both going for it and orgasming. I would have wanked but I had already wanked twice that evening after witnessing my wife’s performance as a hostess.
The following morning I came downstairs to find a mess of beer cans, dirty plates, glasses etc. I found a bin bag and started to clear up. I did not vacuum because I did not want to wake them upstairs. They would be needing breakfast in bed soon.
So this is where I am going to leave the story, as we are now up to date. I remain here on the edge of South London living with my wife and boyfriend / husband as their cuck. When I started writing about our journey I never thought it would swell to 22 parts. I have enjoyed writing it all up, I have found it a kind of therapy getting many things off my chest. Thank you to everyone who have sent me nice messages of support. There have been some toxic messages and comments, I would be lying if I said they did not affect me at all, but I suppose that is the internet you get the best and worst of people (like life!). I don’t know where this is all going and it will probably end in tears for me (as many of the commentators on here have predicted) but we all make our choices and I have made mine, it’s one hell of a ride.
Farewell everyone, if you are out and about and you see an attractive Italian looking lady in her mid 30s (who looks a bit like Penelope Cruz) with a younger tall muscular guy with brown hair or a medium build quite short bald guy in his 40s, it may well be my wife with her boyfriend or myself.
Thank you everyone, it’s been a pleasure writing for you all.
The U.K. Cuckold
