This is going to be a very challenging entry for me to write because it requires me to be rather vulnerable and admit that I am not perfect in my submission/slavehood, whatever you want to call it.
Master was in Paris again last night for his once weekly trip. He had told me that he would be meeting someone he’d met on an app for a first contact. That placed pretty low on my jealousy meter, so when we didn’t have much of a scene the night before he left, I didn’t think too much of it. He had me worship his feet and give him a back rub to relax and that was it.
Fast forward to yesterday. Some time in the middle of the day, Master contacted me to let me know that his date had cancelled due to her being unwell, and he was going to see the same lady he’d seen the previous week and spend the night at hers again. We had talked about how I didn’t want to have any control over who he saw and what he did while in Paris, so I accepted the news and then spent the rest of the afternoon and evening trying very hard to work through the huge ball of jealousy and anxiety that had instantly formed.
I thought I did a pretty decent job. I had written Master a long journal entry, talking myself and him through my feelings. I acknowledged my need to give up control, etc etc. But come nightfall, I was a mess. Like a legit mess. Master still hadn’t given me any real confirmation as to whether he was seeing this lady or not, telling me they would confirm the meeting after their respective dinner events. Anyway, when he called me after his dinner event, I have to admit I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that he was in bed. I took it to mean they weren’t meeting after all.
Alas, no. Master told me he’d be taking a shower and then heading to her place and that’s when I just broke down. I admitted to him that I wasn’t in a good space at all. I was not prepared for this, I was not horny in the least, I felt like throwing up at the thought of him being with someone else when I wasn’t in my little cuckquean space. I guess neither of us really knew just how important the prep work was for me, nor did Master think it made that big a difference who he met while there. To him, it felt like a small change in plans. But to me, it felt pretty much like the end of the world. OK, I exaggerate but you get my point.
I am happy with how we worked through the issue. To me, it was a win. Master basically made me take ownership of the safeword, telling me that I was empowered to use it if I really felt that there was no way for me to work through my feelings. He assured me he would not love me less (my perpetual fear from being with my previous Dom). He gently reminded me of my earlier commitment not to make him cancel plans at the last moment, which is fair because I did give him my word, and it felt like a good decision at the time since it would impact not just him but someone else.
Master then reminded me of all the things I’d written to him in the past few weeks, of where I wanted our dynamic to go. He also reminded me that I knew that things might get tough, but that I needed to dig into my courage if I wanted us to break out of the cycle we were stuck in. It’s true. This is our fourth go at cuckqueaning, and every single time before, I’d chickened out. And yet, I keep going back to this kink, like a curse. It fuels and kills me in equal measure.
In the end, I took a deep breath, we talked, nay, hashed it out, and then I told him to go. I knew that if I stopped him from going, it wouldn’t change the way he felt about me, but it would probably change something in our dynamic. I didn’t want to hate myself in the morning, knowing that I had taken the easy way out. So he went. As for me, I went to sleep after writing him another very long journal entry. Lol. I am glad this man loves reading.
This morning, he contacted me as soon as he was out of her place and gave me a quick rundown of what had taken place. After a good night’s sleep, honestly, it hurt a tonne less. We reconnected over text, both feeling glad that we had stuck to our commitment to each other. He had read my midnight writing and told me he was proud at how I’d managed to work through my feelings, even presenting him with options and alternatives for making this work in the future.
I am aware this might read funny to some of you, some might even cry abuse. But no, I’m not abused. Cuckqueaning is my kink, and we’ve found that I am most fulfilled when I’m kept in a good cuckqueaning space. We are both still learning how to keep me there, how to cope with the ups and downs such an emotionally charged kink inevitably brings. So yes, I am aware that I sent my husband into another woman’s arms last night, even as I was breaking down internally from overwhelming jealousy. But I count it as a win. A small step towards becoming the slave I envision myself being, a small step towards cementing our dynamic as real.