Epic Cuckold Sequel Chapter 30 Conversations Not Meant to Be Heard
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Epic Cuckold Sequel - The Unwanted Houseguest_(3) free porn video
Setting: Urban Bangalore, India, modern times.
Main characters:
- Manu – the main character, a ~30 year man. The story is mostly told from Manu’s perspective.
- Kavita – Manu’s beautiful wife who has a past history with Prem during her college days.
- Amir Ali, known to his friends as Prem, the masculine manly man who has moved in with Manu and Kavita for the past 7 months due to a temporary job assignment. (Note that Amir does not allow Manu to call him Prem, as this nickname is reserved only for his friends).
- Gowri, Amir’s fiancé who occasionally comes over to stay overnight with Prem, and is like a younger sister to Kavita.
Kavita has moved into Prem’s room due to his unwillingness to answer questions about what she perceives as his lack of attachment to her. She has been living with Prem and having sexual relations with him for weeks, and months. But after much back and forth with her husband, she has recently indicated to Manu that she will move back in with him. She is set to move back on Sunday, in just two more days. Manu is thrilled. In the closing moments of chapter 26, Kavita comes home and shows Gowri something new and very interesting near her stomach. Manu is curious to know what his wife is so happy about. He catches a glimpse and sees what appears to be a belly ring with the initials A.A., the initials of her lover.
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Please note that this story had and will continue to have themes of cuckolding, female dominance, forced sissification, BDSM, mind play, chastity, and related ideas. Pleased be aware. I highly encourage anyone who finds this offensive to stop now and spare yourself and the rest of us your grief. Thank you.
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Synopsis of chapters 1-26:
Manu Sharma is a ~30 year man married to the confident and very attractive Kavita. They are college-educated, modern professionals working in Bangalore. Although they appear outwardly happy and successful in most material ways, their intimate life suffers from Manu’s gradual realization that he is a beta male who cannot satisfy his wife’s sexual needs.
The story begins when Kavita’s acquaintance from college comes to stay with the couple. His name is Amir Ali, or Prem to his friends. Over the next 7 months, Manu’s worst fears are realized as his wife’s sexuality blossoms in the presence of Prem. He suspects that his wife was note than just an acquaintance. He discovers to his distress that his wife had an initiate relationship with Prem in college. He suspects that she still has feelings for her ex. Manu’s growing self-doubt around his own masculinity causes him to sink into an abyss of cuckold angst, effectively encouraging his wife to fulfill her sexual desires with Prem. On the side, unbeknownst to Kavita, Prem bullies Manu to undermine his confidence and take his wife away from him.
Various trials, misunderstandings, humiliations, and difficult experiences slowly edge Manu towards a “reluctant embracing” of his repressed desires to be a submissive sissy cuckold. With the steady erosion of his masculinity, Manu descends deeper into psychological despair, torn apart by the simmering internal battle between his culturally-ingrained expectations of what it means to be a man against his own demons that revel in the submission to his wife and to the manly man that she has embraced.
Throughout the ordeal, despite Kavita’s blatant infidelity in their own home, she simultaneously reinforces her love for her husband. She desires only that he accept himself, that he show his attachment and affection for her, and that he answer her question about whether he is hiding something. Manu, being of a supremely optimistic disposition, finds just enough positive intentions in his wife’s actions to keep from completely losing hope of getting her back. At the same time, Manu remains hopelessly conflicted in his emotions. He loves Kavita so greatly that he is able to forgive, accept, and commit to proving himself in her eyes and winning his wife back, while also subconsciously desiring, in an act of ultimate devotion, to lose his wife to a better man in order to a better man.
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The Unwanted Houseguest Chapter 27 – Looking Forward
Friday night, once again, I slept in my bed alone fitfully, thinking about the belly ring attached to Kavita’s belly. How could my own wife have done such a brazen thing to get a piercing in her navel without telling me or consulting me? Furthermore, to have her boyfriend’s initials so boldly displayed put me over the top. The torment of the initials A.A. in obscene capital letters pounded at me. She was rubbing my nose in the humiliation of belonging to another man, my nemesis, Amir Ali, a Muslim bully who had entered our lives and charmed my Hindu wife away from me. My misery was occasionally broken only by the grunting and moaning sounds of sexual union coming from the neighboring room, a room in which this insatiable man of men was outrageously enjoying himself with not one but two women in the same bed. From the sounds of their voices, the women were equally enjoying their carnal pleasures. After several hours of tossing and turning and pacing back and forth, I finally shut my door to avoid the humiliation, and tried my best to fall asleep, knowing that if all went as planned, I would soon have my wife back. Long after the other room fell quiet, my mind calmed down and sleep overcame me.
On Saturday morning, Kavi came to my room all showered and dressed to go out somewhere. I sat up groggily. She hugged me playfully and made small talk, though I could not bring myself to reciprocate as enthusiastically given the gravity of what I knew my shameless wife had done just hours ago. Then I asked her casually in the morning privacy of our room about how Prem felt about her moving back in with me. “I haven’t told him yet. But I’m going to talk to him today.”
I feared that he would object. “Kavita, I don’t think he’ll understand and accept this very easily.” I spoke softly under the sound of her boyfriend lover showering in the other room.
She replied, “Don’t you worry, Manu. Leave it to me. Whether or not he understands is up to him. But one way or another, he’s going to have to accept it. It’s my decision.” That made me feel relieved to see Kavita taking such a firm stance. “Just give me some privacy to talk with him this afternoon, okay?”
“Yes, of course, I have some work to do at the office this afternoon, so that will work out perfect,” I replied. She told me to wait for her text after 6 o’clock to get instructions on what to do next. She didn’t say anything about returning home, but rather the less obvious request to ‘wait for instructions.’ What did she mean by that? My fears popped up immediately. What if I found them in bed again when I returned? What if she found some excuse again to not come back to me or what if she changed her mind?” Doubts ran through my body. She sensed it too. She stood by the bed and embraced me. My face was pressed against her soft and luscious breasts. I felt at home. Yet as we embraced me, I felt the hard metal of her belly ring against my chest, jolting me back to the awareness of her blatant infidelity, poking at my heart almost literally. Still I remained lost in the beauty of the moment and did not want to argue with her. As usual, I said nothing.
Before she left the room, she walked up to my closet to retrieve a bag presumably containing the clothes she expected me to wear. She handed it to me. I looked inside. Judging from the color and styles, I noted that it was one of the more feminine garments. She also whispered a casual observation that I was starting to show some unsightly stubble again. This comment made me wonder why it would matter. My face was shaven already, so she must have meant my body hair. Did she expect that I would continue to shave my body hair today also? Originally, it was Prem’s idea to make me wear the feminine outfit and shave my body hair, but now my own wife was actively participating in feminizing me. She said it helped me stay centered, calm, and happy.
I decided not to object. She had, after all, indicated that she was going to speak to Prem about her moving out of his room, and into mine. That much was clear. She was testing me for cooperation. I needed to pass the test with flying colors. I put a smile on my face, stopped speculating, accepted the bag from her, and went to the bathroom to get ready. In the shower, I lathered up my entire body and began to shave carefully. Soon I was completely smooth from head to toe, including my penis and balls which now looked even more boyish than usual. I took the outfit out of the bag. A pair of silky panties fell out also. The panties were lavender with pink and purple flowers all over. They squeezed my genitals up close to my body. She also included a white camisole. Then I looked at the dreadfully feminine outerwear. It included a pink, semi-transparent churidar top with fully embroidered upper bodice and sleeves cuff. It came with a dark pink stole with contrasting lace and golden border, and magenta colored cotton tights that hugged my legs and felt tight around the genitals. The earlier outfits had at least some gender-neutral style elements, but this left no doubt as to being 100% feminine. I shrugged my shoulders, knowing that it would be over soon, and that it was nothing that Prem and Kavita had not seen before. Even Gowri had seen me in such clothes before, but perhaps out of deference to me, had been polite enough not to reach or say anything to add to my embarrassment.
I exited from the bathroom to find the three of them were already eating breakfast. I joined them, pulling up a chair opposite to Prem. Both of the women had noticed my churidar (traditional Indian women’s dress) by the way they looked at me, but I ignored it. I sat down quickly, poured myself some tea, and joined in their conversations. Kavita and Gowri talked excitedly about the latest release of a high-budget and much acclaimed movie called Padmavati. It was a film based on a historical account of a beautiful Queen who becomes the object of desire for a ruthless Muslim king, a fitting and ironic dramatization of our own lives. “Manu, I’m hoping you can join us too. Prem and Gowri, and you and me. We can catch the matinee show.” The way she said it sound like a pair of couples. Prem and Gowri, followed by a pause, and then her and me. I was pinning my amorous hopes on the grammatical placement of her comma. This is how desperate I had become. Yet, I pushed away any negative thoughts because I was excited just to be included in her plans for once.
“That’s awesome, thanks Kavita. It’ll be good for us to get out of this heat and humidity in a theater for a change.” She seemed to be coming around to having me in her life in a meaningful way!
Just then I received a text message from Prem. He must have sent it in a subtle way under the table to not draw attention to his actions. The message read, “P.B. Don’t forgot your Saturday chores!” I had promised Kavita that I would help her out by doing the housework every Saturday. It was in the back of my mind, but ‘how kind of Prem to remind me’ I muttered to myself.
Prem held back his smile, knowing that I would not be able to join them for the movie now. The sink was full of dishes from last night. And their room was sure to be a mess, with clothes strewn about all over. And the laundry! There’s no way I could get all this done and go to the movie. My face had fallen as I looked at my phone, and Kavita detected it right away in my face. “What’s the matter, Manu? You seem preoccupied. Is everything okay at work?”
I decided to use my office work as an excuse. I did not want to give her boyfriend-turned-lover the satisfaction of thinking that he made me stay home, nor to let my tagging along at the movies create any tension. No. Too much was at risk. I replied, “Kavi, yes, there’s a little crisis at work. I’m sure it’ll work out fine. But it’s probably best that I just get things done today at home with my chores, and then at the office. You three go ahead.”
“Manu, why don’t you just do some of the housework today, and leave some for tomorrow?” Kavita suggested. She looked disappointed that I wouldn’t be coming today.
That guilt would help her make her move tomorrow, I figured. I did not want the housework not being finished to be hanging over my head all weekend. “No, Kavi, it’s okay. I made a commitment to do the housework, and I’d prefer to keep tomorrow free. Just let me know if there’s anything specific you need me to do?”
Kavita replied, “Sure Manu, thank you. You’re so sweet to give me a break every weekend!” She said it with a genuine sense of appreciation. “Maybe we can watch the movie again, just you and me, next week.” She was saying things in a new and more loving tone. Then she continued in a more demanding but still polite tone. “So Manu, you can clean the dishes and wash the laundry. There’s a basket of clothes in both rooms. And also please change the bedsheets and tidy up around there.” She even used the word ‘please’. It wasn’t the same tone of giving orders to a servant. Things were looking brighter.
“I’ll get right on it,” I replied finishing up my breakfast, proud of myself for not reacting to Prem’s text message taunts.
But Prem was not done with his taunting. “Kavita and Gowri, I really have to admire pussy boy’s commitment. You know, most men would never stand for this.” He was in full spirit, complimenting me on the one hand, but also calling me ‘pussy boy’ in front of the women, and making it clear that I was not like most ‘real men’ who would assert themselves.
Kavita objected, “Stand for what, Prem? Helping around the house? Yes, my Manu is very dedicated to me. More men should treat their wives with such equality.” She called me by my proper name, while tactfully not correcting his name-calling directly.
Even more surprisingly, Gowri took my side by chiming in, “Yeah, Prem, maybe you should learn something from Manu about treating women with some more respect.”
Prem objected, “Be more like Manu? Like pussy boy?” He laughed hard, “No thanks. I show my admiration for women differently.” He said it again, openly using a derogatory term to describe me.
By this time, I had gotten up to start washing the dishes. Kavita had excused herself to do her makeup before going out, without commenting on this taunts or defending me. In the background I heard Gowri scold him gently,” Really, Prem. You’re so mean sometimes! Why do have to call him that?”
Prem got defensive. I heard him say to Gowri, “You know I don’t mean it as an insult. The vagina is a sacred and beautiful thing, nothing to be looked down on. It’s a celebration of femininity!”
“Oh, yeah, come on! We all know you didn’t exactly mean it as a compliment. And, Prem, what are you? An expert in female divinity? Since when?” she shot back.
“All I’m saying is that I respect women. His pussy boy name is just a reflection of his feminine side. That’s all.” He had diffused the tension with Gowri using an unbelievably lame excuse, but she was already smitten with him anyway. Yet he wasn’t satisfied. He insisted on proving why he called me that name. He took the opportunity to humiliate me further. He brought Gowri by the hand over to where I was standing. “Pussy boy!” he said.
I turned to look at him. Kavita was in the other room, out of earshot. “Gowri doesn’t understand why you’re a pussy boy.”
“Please Amir, don’t—” I pleaded, using his formal name since I did not have the privilege of using the nickname ‘Prem’ that his close friends and lovers had.
“Shut up pussy boy. Drop your leggings!” he commanded with a firm stance standing next to his fiancé. Gowri looked resigned to what he wanted to do, but she also seemed to be curious, and she made no further actions to dissuade him from bullying me. She made no attempt to hide her grin when he called me pussy boy. There was no reason for this provocation, but with no sign of Kavita around, I had no choice but to go along. I shut off the water and lowered my leggings until they fell around my ankles. Prem grabbed the bottom of my churidar top and lifted it up to expose me in front of his fiancé. She saw me firsthand, wearing silky panties. It was more than a glance. She stared for more than a moment and even leaned forward slightly to take a closer look. Then Prem did the unthinkable. He reached over to my panties, inserted a finger along the top edge, and yanked them down to expose my penis. I felt ashamed. My penis had been tightly trapped inside the panties, and remained small and shriveled up in all the tension. Prem noted to her, “See Gowri, he’s like a little boy down there!” Exasperated, I sighed deeply, my face turning red, hoping that Gowri would stop staring. I took the opportunity to look down her blouse at the cleavage of her breasts, hoping to get a glimpse of her bra. I lingered just a moment too long. She noticed and straightened up her own blouse.
“I understand now,” she replied to Prem firmly. Then Prem released my top and I pulled my panties and leggings up. He snapped his fingers and told me to get back to work as they ambled away. I got back to washing dishes, but I could see Gowri whispering something to Prem while looking at me with a mischievous smile, as if she were suggesting something to him. He looked toward me and nodded, then grabbed two small oranges from our fruit basket and walked over to me. He told me to turn toward him. He pulled the top of my churidar open and inserted the oranges into the breast area. He adjusted the oranges to position them exactly where a woman’s breasts would normally be. They filled up the churidar’s natural shape that had been empty and sagging until now. Gowri stood away, snickering. This must have been her idea. ‘What a bitch she was,’ I thought to myself.
Kavita came back a minute later as they all prepared to leave. I stayed in the kitchen. She was completely oblivious to my humiliation. It was as if nothing had happened. I could tell even from where I stood that she looked stunning as always, but particularly with her Western dress and lipstick and eye shadow on. She had changed into a very revealing black dress, that hugged her figure tightly. It had a deep V-shaped opening in the front, an open back with criss-cross lace up detail. The dress ended way above her knees. Gowri asked her, “Didi, you changed? That dress is to die for!”
“Yes, the heel on the shoes for the red dress broke, so I had to wear something else.” She looked over at me, “Manu, I’m sorry to add one more thing to your list of things to do, but I need you to take my red high heels to get them fixed, okay? They’re in the closet.”
“Yes, of course, my love,” I shouted back, trying to keep my back to her. “I’ll drop it off on the way to work, and pick up on the way back tonight.”
Then Gowri remembered that she also had a pair of shoes with broken heels that needed repairing. I heard her say it out loud to Kavita. My wife looked at me, silently gesturing for me to say something. I felt a little annoyed that she thought she had to give me a hint.
“Gowri, since I’m going to the shoe shop, I can get your shoes fixed too. Just leave them here,” I replied, looking at her, admiring the salacious young woman and her sexy curves. Again, she caught me checking her out just as I averted my glance.
Gowri replied, “Thanks Manu.” But she didn’t offer to bring the shoes to me. Instead, she remarked flippantly “You’ll find my shoes in Prem’s closet in a paper bag – black ones with lacy straps. Please get them shined too.” It was somehow MY job to go and get her shoes! And to be told to just get them shined on top of that! Kavita acted oblivious to her tone and comments. Prem stood there smirking. I wondered if her seeing me in panties had emboldened her to act more disrespectfully with me. I was still standing at the sink, hidden away from sight, waiting for them to leave.
But then Kavita called out to me, “Manu, can you just go get Gowri’s shoes now, so we know it’s the right pair?” I grabbed the kitchen hand towel. I held it in front of my chest as if I was drying my hands as I passed them on the way to their bedroom. Kavita did not notice. I found the shoes in Prem’s closet.
“Is this the pair, Gowri?” I yelled out, holding the shoes out without stepping out of the room myself.
“Yes, thanks, Manu,” she replied.
Kavita called out to me, “Manu, come here, give me a kiss before I go.” I sighed. There was no getting out of the predicament. At least I would get to kiss my wife in front of Prem. There was some silver lining. I stepped out, locked eyes with Kavita, ignoring the other two in the background. I walked toward my wife, leaned forward to kiss her. Her eyes scanned me up and down as she clearly noticed the curves in my breast area. She embraced me and kissed my cheek instead of on the lips, and said to me, “Manu, you look adorable. Thank you for everything. You’re so sweet.” As she hugged me, there was no doubt that she must have felt the oranges in my breast. She smiled as I turned red in the face.
Kavita grabbed her purse and keys, and the trio headed out to the cinema. She said they would be back by 2 o’clock, and that she would text me in the evening. Then she blew me another kiss as she left. The door closed. I leaned against the door. In the silence of the apartment, I looked in the mirror at myself, a man feminized and defeated into wearing women’s attire, left to do his wife’s work while she cavorts with her lover, but also eager to open a new chapter soon in which he can reclaim his manhood. In the solitude of that moment, I reflected on the morning’s events, feeling a mixture of hope, anxiety, and shame as my cock stirred inside its panties. -->
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