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Message-ID: <33928asstr$1007885402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: sandia@texas.net
Subject: {ASSM} Kimberly's Husband
Date: Sun,  9 Dec 2001 03:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

NOTE:  I did not write this, but do have permission to post it.  I hope you 
like it as much as I do.  
--Sandia.




"I Am Kimberly's Husband"

I am Kimberly's husband.  I have some important things to share.

I know of her writings and her having revealed her adultery to the world.  What 
I must reveal, what I must (in all fairness) share, is that I am her adulterer; 
I am her whoremonger; I am even her pimp.

You see (you don't yet, but you will) a woman does not live in a vacuum.  She 
lives in a world formed and shaped by those around her.  And if she has 
accepted that world as safe she rarely revisits that assessment.  And that can 
be the undoing of even the most well-intentioned female.  Such has been my 
wife's unknown plight, unknown except by me.

I have known Kimberly to be a beautiful person, and by that I speak both to 
physical attractiveness and inner qualities.  She has been a wonderful and 
natural mother of our small children, and has taken great joy in that role.  
Indeed, it broke her heart when I encouraged her to secure employment and leave 
the children in the care of others.  I convinced her that it was a financial 
necessity.  Was it?  Not really.  But I wanted her exposed; I wanted the 
process to begin - actually - to continue.  

What process, you may naturally ask.  I will explain.

Have you ever wondered how certain men exploit large numbers of women in their 
lifetimes?  I mean many women.  How do they find them?  And how do they do it 
legally?  That is, why don't they end up in prison serving long sentences for 
sexual assault or rape?  Or perhaps you never knew such things go down.  Indeed 
they do!  In fact, every day most women pass or are passed by men who are 
watching them and would draw them into the shadows and press themselves upon 
them and, ultimately, into them.  Whether women personally experience this, 
what I describe as "being drawn into the shadows," is directly related to the 
unconscious signals they send.  And men that read these signals identify 
vulnerable women across a room, across the street, at a large gathering.

As these men follow up on these signals a process begins and a relationship 
unfolds with the women, which is unconsciously volitional on the part of the 
women.  During the course of this unfolding relationship the women do things 
which unquestionably document their own voluntary participation.  And then they 
are undone.  But, they wanted to be undone!

My wife thinks that it was her expense vouchers that made her vulnerable to 
Tony.  It wasn't.  Rather it was unknowing messages she was sending that Tony 
heard loud and clear.  The vouchers simply served as initial leverage.  If that 
option had not presented itself some other would have, even something contrived 
or imagined.  Note how quickly my wife fell under Tony's control.

Perhaps it was the clothes Kimberly wore which communicated to Tony and others, 
or the way she wore them.  I found it amazing that in her writing, except for 
her outfit for the party, my wife never mentions that she has always 
preferentially worn stockings and garter belts or (more often) open bottom 
girdles.  She has drawers full of them. She doesn't wear girdles for control; 
she is as slender as a hummingbird!  

There is not a man alive who isn't instantly aware of a woman wearing a 
girdle.  The shaping and molding of her body, the subtle lines seen through 
dresses and skirts, and especially the very slight bump of a garter tab on the 
front of the thighs...these are powerful and effective signals.  Indeed, my wife 
failed to mention the regularity with which Tony and Greg would comment on as 
well as specifically order her to wear girdles.  In fact, one thing Greg would 
often write on my wife's belly, just above her girdle, was: "Only whores and 
prostitutes wear girdles!"  Then he would make her sign her name below the 
words, as if it were her own declaration (which, I suppose. unconsciously it 
was).  It is a common entry in her diary. 

Perhaps it was the way she crossed her legs or a propensity to let stocking 
tops drift into view.  Or perhaps it was a smile, or her laugh, or a seemingly 
harmless touch. I don't have Tony's obvious ability to read women, although I 
am not oblivious to the world around me.  Perhaps it was all these things I've 
mentioned, and others as well.

It's rather like a woman wearing heels that are too high who is tottering and 
appearing to some to be looking to fall.  In a sense she is.  However, just as 
with unconscious signals, for various reasons (in this example, fashion vanity) 
she is unable to truly evaluate her state of vulnerability, of which she, 
indeed, is the very source.

It's in that sense that I exposed Kimberly to a larger world, the world of the 
market place, and a world where she would be out of the sheltered setting which 
a man should and usually does create to shelter and protect those precious to 
him.  She would be figuratively and literally out of her comfort zone.  And 
because she had not had fulltime employment before, except summer work, she 
would be that much more out of her element, off balance and vulnerable.  All of 
the above proved to be the case.  Perhaps this is related to her having 
foolishly (and needlessly) falsified vouchers.

Notice that in her writings Kimberly never mentions my name.  Why is that?  To 
protect me?  Hardly.  Has anything she has written of suggested a motivation to 
protect me?  Rather, her failure to mention my name is a crushing indictment of 
the state of our relationship!

I had become, in many ways, a nonentity to her.  Distance had developed between 
us.  Great distance.  And I had fostered that.  The intent was not to lose 
her.  In a sense it was to control her.  More specifically it was a way of 
helping bring out what I discovered was in my wife - something I discovered of 
her as our life together unfolded.  I'll try to find time to share what I 
discovered about her, but I am still uncertain of its origins.

You may sense that I have known much about Kimberly and her activities since 
her employment, even more than her writings reveal.  I have.  Much more.  I 
located her diary early on.  And I have her e-mails.  Also, Kimberly talks in 
her sleep, and she sleeps heavily.

For example, I knew about Tony from the first days of that relationship.  And 
when my wife was passed on to Greg I knew almost exactly what he was subjecting 
her to.  Besides the flood of information about what was happening to her that 
I was following, I could see the torment in her eyes.  And by the way, Kimberly 
believes her cover was broken when I saw the writing on her breasts that day in 
the bathroom.  In truth I had been reading the writing on her body for a long 
time, from the time I faintly saw it through her nightgown and explored while 
she was sleeping.  But I would have discovered it anyway because she soon began 
to record in her diary exactly what was written on her: new writings almost 
daily.  In fact I began keeping my own diary of all these things because there 
was far too much information to remember accurately.  My wife had become a 
virtual billboard, and she does not mention at all the many times she was made 
by Greg to expose herself with all her signage.  It was only one small aspect 
of her total humiliation, a humiliation which had been predestined and 
apparently programmed into her a long, long time ago.

Incidentally, my wife was a virgin when we were married.  I discovered her 
virginity when we were petting one night and, although it was extremely hard 
and she often offered herself to me, I did not deflower her cunt before she 
wore my rings.  Her mouth was less resistible.  

Kimberly is a world class cock sucker, and I believe she may be most at home on 
her knees with hard cock drilled down her throat, her head tipped up and eyes 
locked in obedient servility on those of the owner of the cock she is servicing 
at that moment.  I believe she prefers to be held by the hair and forced to 
take cock, her head made to bob back and forth like a helpless rag doll - as 
Greg accustomed himself to using her.  I think all the men who have or will use 
her pick up on the oral aspect of her vulnerability.  

Recall in those moments when Tony first took control of my wife one of the key 
things he did was make her suck his finger.  It was a symbolic surrender of her 
mouth to him and it locked her into complete submission, which he would soon 
consummate in the conference room when he first fucked her.  Tony knew!  And 
the men at the party (the only party she chose to mention) obviously picked up 
on it quickly.  They took her mouth first and then the rest of her holes were 
unquestionable theirs as well.

You might think it remarkable that my wife capitulated on the spot to the order 
to call Greg "Master."  She still calls him Master.  Think about that one!  I 
am the husband.  Someone else is her master, all be it temporarily out of the 
picture.  This man will be her master as long as she lives unless someone 
supersedes him.

Notice she does not use the "C" word.  That is curious, is it not?  Twenty-nine 
pages of the denouement of my wife and there is never an opportunity to 
proclaim the obvious: that I am - that she has made me - a cuckold!  The reason 
is important and clear, if I have faithfully conveyed the essence of the 
matter.  Kimberly's destiny is not my complete and total humiliation, but 
rather her own; and, moreover, her total subjugation.  Recognizing that, even 
before anyone ever touched her body besides me, I knew that I would not be 
able, of myself, to bring her to completeness.  Understand, total 
humiliation/subjugation does not mean destruction.  On the contrary it means, 
in this context, completion and fulfillment.  It means total resonance with all 
that is reality.  It means fearlessly receiving the life that is in her and for 
her.

At the end she asks if I miss her sluttiness.  The answer is, first, that I 
have no right to program her as a slut or anything else.  Did I enjoy her 
sluttiness.  I'll leave that one on the table for your judgment.  If I did I 
should be comforted, because it is not gone.  Kimberly has not changed; she is 
still working to accept who and what she is, as I am (and for me the process of 
accepting who and what she is began a long time before it began within her).  
In fact it is in that sense that I began this message by telling you that I am 
her adulterer, her whoremonger, her pimp.  I saw shadows of who and what she is 
inside and rather than vernier over them I chose to help bring them out.

To that extent I am culpable, if someone is culpable.

Do I love my wife?  With a love that exceeds measure.  I cannot imagine that we 
might never have met.  Our relationship is one of sweet pain, but it is a 
reality walk; and I believe neither of us would have it otherwise.  Am I afraid 
of the future?  I am, just as one fears death, both for Kimberly and for our 
relationship.  But the intensity of what we have already experienced will serve 
as a bonding agent for the turbulence, which must lie ahead.  I will be there 
for Kimberly, though frequently myself watching from the shadows, as we/she 
experience/s her reality in fear and trembling. Indeed, as I said once 
before, "I will!"

I have more to share.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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