Cuckqueaning as a fix for insecurity?

Photo by Nate Neelson on Unsplash

A kinky friend whom I exchange with regularly asked me today whether a part of my desire to be cucked might stem from an inner fear that I am not enough to keep Master interested for a lifetime, and whether the ‘high’ I enjoy from cuckqueaning might in fact be a response to my martyrdom and self-sacrifice. This was perhaps too complicated a question to wake up to, and after banging out a sleepy response to her on Telegram, I continued to give the topic more thought over the course of the day.

The first part of the question is easy to answer. It is true that I lack positive examples of happily married couples who have withstood the test of time. Take my parents, for example. After thirty over years of marriage, one horrid extramarital affair that wore the entire family thin and a honeypot scam that rendered the family near penniless, they decided to call it quits in an extravagantly hostile manner. It shouldn’t be too difficult to imagine that this had a very negative impact on me. It might also have been the push that led to the dissolution of my first marriage; the moment it became very apparent that I didn’t see myself growing old with him anymore, I initiated the separation.

Nonetheless, the above coupled with the wearing down of my self-esteem, confidence and value by my ex-husband does not make for a good recipe. So yes, I will readily admit that despite the time and effort my Master has put into picking up the pieces of my broken soul, teaching me to love myself again, it is challenging for me to have the required confidence in myself to truly believe that I deserve him. Deep down inside, I do feel that he is too good for me.

I feel like I lucked out. Somehow, I struck the lottery with this one. He’s attractive, incredibly intelligent (he thinks circles around me), well-spoken, interesting and funny. Not just that, he gets me. He seems to always know exactly what I need; he pushes all the right buttons, even when it gets difficult. He instinctively knows how to give me just enough of a push but also provide enough time and space for me to warm up to an idea. I’ve never felt truly afraid nor in danger of being messed up too far over the edge that I’ll lose myself, despite us tangling with some rather taboo topics in our marriage.

And therefore, I don’t deserve him, right? I’m not speaking from my cuckquean heart here, I’m speaking as me. He’s given me the life I could only dream of in the past. I don’t have to work if I choose not to, I have the space to devote myself to being exactly who I want to be. I can pick up projects that I find interesting, learn a new skill, take up a new hobby. He encourages and he provides the opportunities. I mean, he’s given me the chance to make an entirely new life in a foreign country, something many dream of but simply don’t have the resources to undertake.

And therein lies what I find most interesting. In spite of my perhaps crippling concerns that I am not good enough for Master, we’ve taken this and bundled it up and turned it into something we use for play. Perhaps in some warped fashion, this is my way of taking ownership of my insecurities. Yes, I have a deep fear of being cheated on, my father having wrecked the family with his affair. Maybe cuckqueaning is my way of ensuring Master’s need for variety is always met, and by encouraging him to date and fuck other women, it diminishes greatly the need for him to cheat. And I am ok with this, because I’m not just doing it for him, I’m also doing it for me.

This leads me to the second part of the question. Do I enjoy cuckqueaning because I secretly enjoy the idea that I am sacrificing myself? I don’t think so. Honestly, if it were altogether just a negative experience, I wouldn’t be into it. It’s not so much the sacrifice that drives me, it’s the humiliation of knowing I am sending my Master, my husband, into the arms and bed of another woman. It’s the humiliation of knowing she can show him pleasures I cannot, even if, in our case, I am denied pussy sex for the very purpose of this comparison. So, I think, no. I’m no martyr. I’m just a silly little cuckquean who really really gets off on being made to feel smaller in comparison to another. Again, I’m doing it for me, and he’s just a really lucky man (as many like to tell me) who gets to benefit from my fucked up kink.

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