Master headed up to Paris yesterday yet again, mostly for work but also for pleasure. He would meet Ms D for the second time last night, and he was most definitely excited. After their first night together, Master has told me time and again that Ms D has the tightest body he has ever fucked. I’ve seen pictures so I know this to be true. But more importantly, on top of the physical which can only go so far, Master finds her to be very interesting as a person. On our end, we’d ironed out the nitty gritty and we were ready to give cuckqueaning another spin.
Unfortunately, the stars never align and I woke up yesterday morning with a splitting headache that quickly evolved into a bad migraine. Since I’ve been writing, I’m more aware of how often these hit me, and it looks like I’m getting two attacks two weeks apart. This part isn’t relevant to my recount, but it has got me a little worried. Anyway, despite my migraine, I told myself I would try and do whatever I’d set out to do that day, and that I would also commit myself to completing the tasks that Master had set for me last night.
In order to ensure I was engaged while being cucked, Master had sent me a list of tasks to complete. The first was that I was to don my nipple clamps at the start of their dinner. I would be allowed to remove them when they reached their room. The second was to write a letter of appreciation to Ms D for pleasing Master, also taking care to point out the things she could give him that I could not. The third was to stretch my ass with the two dildos we own, taking a video of myself for their viewing pleasure. Finally, I was to write the sentence “piggy is a depraved slave that deserves only to have Master destroy its ass” 100 times. I was to do this on my tablet, and of course Master had warned me against simply copying and pasting.
And so the night began. At 8pm, I received the instruction to apply my clamps and also to put myself in the closet to get in the right space. I did as tasked and waited in silence in the closet, door pulled shut before me, for Master’s next text. It came about fifteen minutes later. They’d started eating, he’d informed, and I could exit the closet. I can’t say I did much apart from sitting with the pain. I’d chosen the clover clamps, like I did the last time, but I wore them for a fair bit longer than previously. Last time, I had them on for between 30-40 minutes. This time, it was close to an hour before I received a text from Master instructing me to remove the left clamp and to focus on the pain while he took his shower. The next text came about ten minutes later and I have never been so glad to remove clamps before. Of course they hurt like a bitch coming off, but they had been getting pretty unbearable before.
Master’s text also informed me that was going to start his scene with Ms D and I was to get cracking on my tasks. It was about 9.15pm by that point, and I started writing my thank-you letter to Ms D. Here’s what I came up with:
Dear Ms D,
I have been tasked to pen you a thank-you letter, and while I probably shouldn’t start the letter saying so, Master has asked that I be quite honest in my expression of gratitude – something, left to my own devices, I would probably shy away from. I recognize that some, or perhaps a lot, of my kinks rely heavily on my suffering. For this reason, I tend not to impose them on others, for fear of putting the recipient in an awkward situation, feeling uneasily responsible for my pain. Before I move into the letter proper, please know that this is not my intention in the least. If anything, I thank you wholly for being a contributor.
With that said, I would like to thank you, Ms D, wholeheartedly, for pleasing my Master tonight. As I sit here with my nipples sore and aching from close to an hour in clamps, I cannot help but feel immense jealousy at the pleasure the both of you will find in each other tonight. He has been looking forward to meeting you since the first time you played together, and I do not question why. He told me that you have the tightest body he has ever held in his hands before. I have no hang ups about my body, but I also know how to admit defeat when I see it in the face. My lackadaisical attitude towards exercise, coupled with my overzealous attitude towards food, do not a ‘tight’ figure make.
There are other things Master engages in with you that he no longer partakes of with me anymore, or at least not more than once a year. It’s not so much that I cannot provide them, but being denied them keeps me in the submissive head-space I crave, and that Master adores. So, thank you, truly, for giving Master the opportunity to pleasure a real woman, something both Master and I agree I am not. Thank you for your soft lips that he adores making out with, your pussy that he enjoys going down on, fingering and fucking. I miss these acts, but I acknowledge these are not acts Master wishes to engage in with his slave, and I am grateful he can enjoy them with you.
One last thing. I thank you, sincerely, for your interest in my dynamic with Master, for your interest in me, and for being absolutely stellar in navigating the situation maturely. My heart is at ease knowing Master is with you. I do look very much forward to meeting you one day, but only after you and Master know each other a tonne better, and also only after you fully embrace the fact that I have no desire to be treated as an equal to you. Truthfully, my belief that you are superior and that I am inferior helps me greatly in my desire to be cucked by you.
My warmest regards,
I thought I did a pretty good job. It’s warm without too much groveling. I know that when I used to domme, I appreciated a submissive with a mind of his own. I found groveling in the wrong context to be very much a turn off, and that was certainly not how I wished to appear. I wanted her to know that I have a mind of my own, that my circumstance is entirely consensual and desired. I also wanted her to know that I defer to her by choice, not because of low self-esteem or any lack of confidence on my part. It seems she liked my letter very much. I am pleased.
When I was done and had sent the letter off to Master via text, I got started on my next task – anal stretching. So anal stretching is a somewhat new kink that Master and I have been engaging in. I’m not absolutely new to it; we’ve done it a handful of times in the past, but I’ve certainly never been religious about it. It seems a wonderful addition to my degradation, though. After Master spends a few minutes stretching my ass, a process that’s getting quicker and easier by the day, I lose the ability to clench tightly on his cock and attain an anal orgasm. If the stretching is done slowly, I don’t cum much from it either, which leads to me truly being used for Master’s pleasure with little regard for my own.
The whole process took me perhaps ten minutes, first with the smaller dildo similar in size to Master’s cock, and then to the larger dildo which gives me a nice gape. I made sure to thrust it in and out of my ass many times for the camera, putting on a good show for Master and Ms D’s pleasure. When I was done, I inserted my butt plug and turned it on to vibrate, with the intention of keeping it in while I wrote my lines. I sent the video off the Master and promptly got started.
The last task took me the longest amount of time to complete. I love taking notes on my tablet as it’s easy to annotate pdfs, but writing on a glass screen is not the easiest. I ended up having to erase and rewrite many words to ensure they were neat and legible. By the time Master was done with play, I’d only written 37 lines. I spent another hour on the rest of the 62 lines, by which time Master was leaving Ms D’s apartment. The timing was perfect, really. We texted while he was in his Uber back to his room for the night, and we had a nice video call after.
Honestly, I think the night went extremely well. I was kept busy working on my tasks throughout, so my brain didn’t have much opportunity to go on an emotional roller-coaster of insecurity. However, I can’t say that I was devoid of jealousy. It was ever-present. I just didn’t have much time to feed it too much. That said, I did notice that my enthusiasm had waned dramatically by the time the night was through, despite it having been only four hours. I wasn’t sure why, but I communicated this to Master and shared that I needed time to process and decide if I wanted to continue being cucked this way. I thought, perhaps, it was the long-distance set up that might not be doing it for me. Master assured me my decision would be respected, but asked that I sleep on it first. And so I did.
I gave the matter a lot of thought before falling asleep, and some more in the morning. And then I had a bit of an epiphany. I realized that I’d been chasing the wrong thing with the cucking scenes. I’d been chasing a sexual high the entire time, but the truth was that no matter how well the scene went, I’d always be riddled with jealousy and negative thoughts by the end of it. The real “high” was to be found in the pre and post scenes Master and I had around the cucking, and the actual cucking itself was more a test of my obedience, dedication and discipline. I realized that there were many rules in our dynamic that didn’t always gel with me. Sleeping in the closet, for starters. Wearing my chastity belt 24/7. Giving up pussy pleasure for good. All of these were difficult, and I’d whined about each and every rule at some point or another, but the fact that they were out of my control forced me to accept and grow comfortable with them.
So today, I shared my thought process with Master and told him that as long as I retained control over cuckqueaning, I was definitely going to choose the easy way out. I am a sucker for suffering, yes, but there are moments when clearer heads prevail and what was once sexy no longer is. I knew what I had to do. I had to rescind my control over being cucked. This was always my ideal, but I retained my safeword at Master’s request because of how unsafe the kink was to my emotional state. I found myself at a crossroads of sorts. Either I retain control with the knowledge that I was very soon going to put an end to something that was complimentary to our dynamic, out of fear and other selfish reasons. Or I could give up said control and trust that Master will continue to abide by the boundaries we’ve set up together over the past few weeks. The decision was a simple one.
I proposed a three month contract during which I give up all veto power against Master seeing Ms D. The boundaries, if you’re interested, are that he sees her no more than one evening a week, does not stay over, has a video call with me as aftercare, preps me for the cucking, gives me tasks to keep me engaged while being cucked, and returns for a nice wrap up scene with me. So long as these are met, I opted not to have any control over whether or not I should be cucked. The answer is yes, I should. I have come to the realization that this is an important contributor to my ongoing degradation and dehumanization process. Taking it away puts things on easy mode, and that’s not how I like to play.
On Master’s approval, I wrote up the contract, listing all the rules, rituals and protocols we have in place, both pertaining to our lifestyle and cuckqueaning. It starts tomorrow. I feel, maybe not so surprisingly, at peace. At least now I know that even if I should suffer, it’s not my call to make it stop. And if I do suffer, it’s because it’s what Master wants, as with every other detail in our dynamic. This was the last bit of control I had retained and it feels fucking good to give it up.