A Big Step Forward in Cuckqueaning

Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

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.

Stretched to the max!

Photo by Deon Black on Unsplash

Master has been changing up the way we play of late and I absolutely love it. Our play typically revolves around some form of pain play, rough face fucking and a lot of anal pounding. For a long time now, it has been more or less always in that order. I guess there’s something quite meditative about pain play that we always start off with it, whether it’s solely impact or impact with a dose of something else, like clamps or electroplay. I can space quite easily with regular hard impact strokes, especially with thuddy implements and canes. I often take these while in a bentover position, honor bound to stay still, so the whole process is quite ritualistic.

This weekend, though, Master decided to shake things up. On Saturday, he threw me in the small closet for about fifteen minutes, always a nice way to get me in the mood while he picks out the toys he wants to use on me. When he pulled me out of the closet, he immediately had me kneel and suck him. Some face fucking ensued till he was nice and hard and I was choking on his cock. Then he had me get into what I best describe as the yoga pose, child’s pose, on the bed… Knees apart, butt to ankles, face and chest flat on the mattress, hands stretched out beyond my head, palms flat on the mattress as well.

I thought he was going to start giving me pain, but instead he started fingering my ass quite roughly and spanking my clit and pussy with his other hand. My goodness, was I wet. While thrusting his fingers deep in my ass, he started taunting me for having such a loose ass that he had zero difficulty getting all his fingers in. He reminded me that he can’t wait to fuck Ms D’s tight pussy this coming week, and of course that made me cream even more. By the time he shoved his cock in my ass, it was so warmed up there was no resistance. The humiliation continued with Master comparing my loose ass to Ms D’s tight pussy.

I figured we were going to focus on anal play for the scene, so color me surprised when he started paddling me with the delrin loop while balls deep in my ass, me lying face down on the bed. It was quite the experience to take pain while simultaneously being ass fucked. “Looks like this is what I need to do to make your ass tighter,” Master exclaimed. I hadn’t noticed, but it was true that I clenched my ass on his cock every time he hit me. That scene continued with him raining blows on my ass and thighs, fucking my ass and throat interchangeably. I felt like a piece of meat, for real, being tossed about, turned and orientated to suit his needs. He finished off on my face before sending me to clean myself up. Hot!

Today, I cleaned up our dildos for our scene, as requested. I brought two with me from Singapore. One is about the same size as Master in girth, but slightly shorter at 7″. The other is pretty thick, about 1.8″ in girth and also about 7″ long. I’ve been able to take it in the past with some warm up, but it’s never been very easy. Anyway, we started the scene with me in the closet again (starting to see a pattern here), and then he had me bend over the bed and hold my ass cheeks apart to start. He rubbed his cock along the length of my pussy, pushing it in just about halfway to lube himself up, then entered my ass quickly. Because of all the anal fucking we’ve been doing, this was easy for me to take.

He fucked me like this for a while before withdrawing and replacing his cock with the smaller dildo. It went in easily too. I guess he figured I needed a challenge so he swapped it out for the larger dildo, but guess what.. My ass swallowed that one too. Lol. Master started thrusting it in and out of my ass, focusing on stretching the entrance to my asshole, a sensation I quite enjoy because I can feel it pop in and out. He continued to stretch my ass with the large dildo and then his fingers for a bit, and then I heard him lubing something up, a lot of pressure at the entrance to my ass, followed by the sensation of being extremely filled up. Master had inserted his cock and the smaller dildo (same size as him) at the same time. I was being double penetrated in the ass!

Master told me to put my knees on the bed and to spread my ass cheeks with my hands. It was a little finicky as he started fucking me as the dildo kept threatening to slide out, so I held it in place as he fucked me hard. Wow, that was quite something. I wasn’t in any pain, but my ass felt stretched to the max. At some point, he removed the dildo and replaced it with his fingers. He could get all four fingers in around his cock while he pounded me. It felt amazing. He started humiliating me for having a loose ass, yet again, and made me tell him when he’d be getting Ms D’s tight pussy. “Wednesday night, Master, Wednesday night.” My head was all sorts of places by that point. I was thanking him for wrecking my one usable hole so he had more reason to appreciate Ms D’s tight pussy and ass. I felt like a fuck toy that he pushed to the limit, no care nor concern for keeping me tight, destroying my ass just because he could.

When he eventually had me lie face down on the bed and entered my ass with just his cock, I could hardly feel him and I knew he had to feel the same. I felt wrecked. I was sobbing into the duvet, apologizing for my useless hole. He, of course, was laughing and taunting me for being such a depraved useless pig. And so we continued, him shoving the dildo back in alongside his cock so I’d be tight enough for him to feel something. In this position with me face down, the dildo sat nicely against his pubic mound just above his cock and he was able to thrust hard alongside the dildo. I don’t know if it was from being overwhelmed or just from struggling to take the sheer size of what was in me, but I couldn’t cum from my ass at all. I have to admit I quite liked that, and I voiced it to Master. I felt like a fuck pig and thanked him for paying my pleasure no attention at all.

As though in response to this, Master pulled out and told me to flip over onto my back and hold my knees to my chest. He started spanking my exposed clit and pussy hard, bringing tears to my eyes. He taunted me more, telling me that this was what I deserved while Ms D would be the one enjoying his tongue, his fingers, the vibrator on her clit. Me? All I got was pain. I was so far gone at this point I think I was just mindlessly thanking him on repeat for ruining me. This time, he finished in my ass. I was surprised he could, since I definitely could feel him a lot less than usual.

It’s been a few hours since we fucked but my ass still has the nice sensation of being fucked and stretched hard. I’ve asked Master to continue stretching my ass please. I really do like the humiliation of being his loose piggy, feeding my cuckqueaning kink of him getting better tighter pussy elsewhere. This week should be fun with Master seeing Ms D for the second time. We’ve discussed tasks for me to do while he’s with her and we’ll have our call after to round up the scene. I’m hopeful for a good cucking experience so that I can truly start embracing my new life. ❤️

Sleeping Arrangements

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This seems such a paltry thing, and yet it’s been the most prominent reminder of my place in Master’s home. I have a spent a total of six nights in my piggy bed in Master’s closet thus far, starting just over a week ago. We began with me alternating nights in the closet with nights in Master’s bed, but I’ve since spent the past three nights entirely in the closet.

The floorspace of the closet is 150cm in length and 50cm in depth. I can’t extend my legs fully, but they’re not drawn in too tight either. I sleep on a duvet folded four times on itself so it’s quite padded, but of course I can still feel the base of the closet beneath it. It’s nothing like a proper mattress. I have my pillow and a fleece blanket to keep warm.

I can’t say I sleep very comfortably, but that’s the whole point. Master likes me suffering so I remember that I’m his slave, not his wife. A lot of our protocols and rituals are designed to remove any entitlements I might harbour of being his wife. I guess sleeping in the same bed is quite a big entitlement, thus he has taken it upon himself to kick me out of his bed.

Last night, Master took things up a level but shutting the doors to the closet and locking them from the outside after tucking me to bed. (We’ve checked and there is ample airflow since this is an old closet and the doors don’t align tightly at the sides.) It was quite an experience being locked in the closet last night, I’ll admit. I like being confined in small and tight spaces, but once the lights in the bedroom were turned off, it was pitch black in the closet. I could see nothing, no shadows, no shapes, nothing.

The difference in headspace that this small act put me in was tremendous. Suddenly, I was not just his slave sleeping in a pet bed, I was something inhuman that he stored away when not in use… Akin to a piece of property, kept under lock and key. I remember testing the boundaries of the locked closet space, feeling the lack of give of the doors against my hands. I remember the helplessness of knowing I was stuck inside till Master awoke and let me out. If I needed the toilet, I was fucked. (Reminder to self to make sure not to drink too much water close to bedtime and to empty my bladder beforehand!)

A lot of the things we do are hatched in my perverse brain and picked up and expanded on by Master. This particular one… I can’t really remember who seeded it. It might have been me, it might have been Master. But I was definitely the one who was overenthusiastic and cleared out the closet so I could try spending a night in it. Well, this might be one of my biggest regrets because Master loves it so much it looks like I’ll only be allowed to sleep in his bed very occasionally. He says he sleeps much better now, and I guess I can’t argue with that.

Today, I asked him where I would sleep in our new place. We haven’t bought one yet but we intend to get our own place by year end. He replied that he doesn’t know yet, but definitely someplace very demeaning, like perhaps in the laundry room. The cogs of my depraved brain immediately starting turning, imagining a future where I am no longer a resident of Master’s bedroom, where my clothes and personal possessions are stored elsewhere (in the laundry room or store room or wherever), and Master’s room is solely his.

Of course, Master likes the idea so I guess this is the future that awaits me. I found some pictures of loft beds in laundry rooms where the bed is suspended above the washing machine and dryer, but Master replied to say it was too comfortable for me. So I found other pictures of giant dog cages built into furniture and he liked what he saw. We’ll probably still get a proper long bdsm cage for the bedroom, but it’ll be solely for when I’ve been good (and hot cuckqueaning scenes). All other times, I will sleep in my slave quarters, outside of Master’s room.

Can’t wait.

Waxing Lyrical, Yet Again

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For 7 weeks now, I have been Master’s slave and I truly have never been happier. I apologize that I keep waxing lyrical about my dynamic, but I really love how it’s fallen into place in such an effortless manner. The knowledge that Master is invested in training me to become the slave he wants thrills me to no end. It’s quiet within me when it comes to serving him. I love the inner peace and serenity it brings me. There is no questioning, second guessing, entertaining of doubts in my mind. It’s like I am finally where I have always wanted to be, on my knees and at his feet.

Yes, I am *stocktaking* again, as I am often wont to do. I like to read and reread the progression in my dynamic from day to day, week to week, month to month, and hopefully year to year. So let’s see… Where shall I begin?

I have been locked in my chastity belt since the 15th of February. It comes off whenever we fuck, and for the first few weeks, Master allowed me a few nights with it off, especially when pressure marks on my hips started appearing. However, we’ve since tightened the belt (I lost a little bit of weight) and with a  better fit, I now no longer require breaks. Master removes the belt prior to us fucking and it goes back on right after. Of course I take the opportunity to give it a good clean, and since we fuck nearly nightly, hygiene hasn’t been an issue. Interestingly, I kept the belt on throughout my menstruation, wearing panties with a sanitary pad over the belt. Yes, it got dirty, but it was nothing a good hot shower couldn’t fix. We are in the market for a stricter belt (I’m eyeing NeoSteel), probably with an anal opening so we have a little bit of variety.

I really love being in chastity. I’ve gotten so used to being belted that it feels weird to have it off. I actually fall asleep easier with the belt on now than without. How strange is that. It’s such a lovely and constant reminder that I belong to Master, so much so that I don’t even have access to my clit and pussy until he wants me to. I love going out with the belt on, knowing I wear this symbol of his ownership that no one else can see. I’m hoping that Master will be able to fuck me through the rear opening of the new belt, rendering it absolutely unnecessary to unlock me at all.

Master has been using my mouth daily. Whenever he surfs porn in his home office and wanks, he calls me in to ‘finish him off’ which I am more than happy to do. I crawl under his desk and suck him till he cums, swallow, clean him up with my mouth, thank him for using me and leave. Depending on the time of day, he usually tells me «get out» or «that’s all piggy, you may go now» after he cums. I really like the space it puts me in – I am just a cum receptacle for him in these moments, and the belt ensures I remain selfless in my endeavors. Master doesn’t even look at me while I suck him, he just continues surfing porn as though I am not there, which is such a turn on. I always get very wet serving him this way.

Master fucks me in the ass almost daily now. Thanks to a follower on FL who pointed me to some resources on healthier enemas, my enemas are now fast and painless. Master lets me know by mid-afternoon if he’ll be using me at night, and I clean myself up if he will. Our sessions are rough and intense with a lot of face slapping, face fucking and anal pounding. My clit is usually ignored, save for Master rubbing his cock against it while lubing himself up with my wetness. We don’t even need lube for anal sex, that’s how wet I get. I get to cum freely from my ass, Master wants my anal orgasms to be the only type of orgasm I enjoy, so that I will crave anal sex, not that I don’t already.

Master has also been giving me a lot of pain. At least once a week, sometimes more, he stripes my ass, thighs and calves with the rattan cane and delrin paddle. We brought other impact toys with us to France, but I’m such a sucker for pain that these are the two I gravitate towards, since they are the harshest. I love it when I have bruises on my ass and down my thighs, even better when they hurt so badly I feel them every time I sit. The pain is such a lovely reminder of my place as his pain pig.

I am still disallowed cunnilingus, finger fucking (or any pussy action really), and making out with Master. When we play/fuck, it really revolves around Master taking pleasure from me or giving me pain. His training has been very effective because I now keep thinking about these little acts which I used to love but not think too much of, and the humiliation of being permanently denied them (except once a year on our wedding anniversary) keeps me exceptionally turned on. Of course, as I’ve mentioned many times in my other posts, knowing that Master engages in these very acts with his cuckcakes reinforces the difference in treatment between them and me.

I’ve been sleeping most nights in the closet, starting about a week ago. For the first few days, we alternated between having me sleep in the closet and in Master’s bed, but it looks like I will be spending most of my nights in the closet moving forward. Master really loves tucking me in like a pet, giving me a kiss on the forehead and then getting to have the whole of his bed to himself. It took me a few nights to get used to sleeping in the closet since I can’t stretch out fully, but the last few nights have been fine. This one is an interesting development because we both really enjoy sleeping together, but I have to admit that sleeping in my piggy bed, as we lovingly call it, puts me in such a good headspace. The rare nights that Master allows me in his bed are special as a result, and I have come to appreciate them a whole lot more than I used to when they were a given.

Another recent development is that I now no longer have jurisdiction to choose and purchase my own clothes. Having been quite a shopaholic in the past, this will take getting used to. However, because of my current priorities, I haven’t been shopping at all on my own. The few shopping trips I’ve taken have been with Master, and he has been the one to send me to the changing room with items he chose. I really like that, so we decided to ‘officialise’ it. I’m not worried about this as Master has impeccable taste. Honestly, for the past few years, I’ve relied on him to ‘ok’ the things I purchase, so this is just us making it an actual rule. It’s perhaps one of the last bits of autonomy I still held on to, so while it is a small decision, it’s a pretty big step in my books.

My life is pretty simple now. My days are spent simply. I have tasks to complete, mostly pertaining to the housework, my French studies and exercise. Occasionally, Master has errands that he wants me to run and he’ll send me out of the house to get some fresh air. I will admit I am a hermit. If I can afford it, I probably would stay home every single day, so Master sends me on these little trips every week or so just to ensure I take a walk around the neighbourhood. I won’t talk about this much because I’ve already covered my daily tasks in detail in earlier writings.

I am aware that my training involves a lot of conditioning. Master has my enthusiastic consent, of course. In fact, a lot of the things we do were seeded by me and he took them on, developed them and ensured my obedience. A lot of the things we do might seem extreme, not because of how hardcore they are (they aren’t) but because they enter the realm of behaviour modification. The only reason why I feel safe enough to engage in these with Master is because he is my husband and life partner. I used to believe that submission was a gift, but that’s bull. I submit because it makes me feel alive, happy, at peace, and there’s really no other way I know how to be.

The Beauty of Subtlety

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But here’s the truth. Master makes me feel like I’m rediscovering submission all over again. He makes me feel like all the times I’d done so in the past were flawed, fake or forced. Our play isn’t extreme. We don’t do anything that breaches the surface of the skin. He doesn’t leave me bloody, he doesn’t even leave me (too) badly bruised. And yet, the little things he does to me give me a submissive high that I’ve never experienced before and that I’ve come to crave with my entire being.

I’ve always prided myself on being an experienced submissive. I’ve been “in the scene” for close to two decades, I’ve served many dominants, some for the duration of a scene or more, some for months and some for years. I’ve tried all manner of kinks, from bondage to impact to needles. Heck, I was so “experienced” I even ran workshops, parties and once wore the hat of “community leader”.

Master’s training is subtle. We don’t have a contract, nor do we we have very specific rules (apart from orgasms), rituals nor protocol. And yet, when I think about it, I know instinctively what is expected of me all the time. And it dawned on me that he’s been training me all this while, I just didn’t realize it. He shares his expectations in very small doses and only adds on new ones when the previous have become habits. When I point out that something I’ve been doing feels like a rule, ritual or protocol, he’s happy to “officialise” it, but the truth is, it takes zero effort on my part to keep to it because I’m already trained.

I don’t even know how he does it. How does he have such a macro view over what he wants to mold me into? How does he keep something so big from me, and how does he have the patience to wait months, even years for me to slowly grow into new habits? Half of me is super impressed and half of me thinks he must be a sociopath. 😂 I feel like his life project and I’m both flattered and terrified. How much more does he have in store for me over the coming years and decades?

Today, we went shopping. It was such an innocent activity. Before we left the house, Master’s only instruction was that my collar be visible. I wore a sweater top, skinny jeans, a black padded jacket and my collar. The goal of the trip was to buy a couple of work outfits for Master, him having recently started a client facing high pressure job where image is key. The whole time we were in the mall, Master walked purposefully from shop to shop. He never held my hand and I just did my best to keep up.

Each parcel he purchased, he handed to me before heading to his next destination. At some point, he finally looked at me and said that I was being a good serving piggy, carrying his purchases. His words made me feel immensely proud and also made me a little wet. After that, there was no need for prompting, I immediately took each parcel in hand after payment. At our final stop, while we waited for the items to be rung up, he tugged on the ring on my collar and gave my ear a little kiss, making my sticky situation even stickier. The sales ladies noticed our little conversation and loving gestures and commented that we were “très mignons” (very cute). If they only knew.

It was only after the last stop that Master took a few bags from my hands, telling me jokingly that he didn’t want people to judge him. As we headed back to the car, he commented that he had really enjoyed the shopping trip with his good serving piggy. There was no waiting, no dilly dallying while choosing colors, etc. I laughed and told him he could choose my clothes in future. He replied that he would, and also that he’s actually already been doing so for some time now, I just haven’t noticed. That got me thinking and I realized he was absolutely right. Mind blown, yet again.

And this is how my training has been so far. Master basically lets me do whatever comes naturally, whatever feels right. And then he prompts and refines till it’s exactly what he wants, but it never feels unnatural nor forced. My innate desire to please him fuels me to learn, remember and replicate. My trust in him fuels me to let go. It doesn’t come from a place of fear or even of wanting to be a better submissive/slave, it comes from a place of love.

Cucked by Ms D Part 2

cuckquPhoto by We-Vibe Toys on Unsplash

Please find Part 1 here.

This post is more introspection, less sex. Master and I have not had our customary “wrap up” scene. We usually have a light one on Friday night (tonight) and then an intense one on Sunday. So, this post is more of a summary of how the night went and my thoughts/feelings on it.

This particular cuckqueaning experience was a very positive one for me. As I shared in the first post, I was tasked by Master to apply nipple clamps at the start of his dinner with Ms D, and it wasn’t until 40 minutes later that she sent me a voice message through Master giving me permission to remove them. This little act kept me somewhat involved while being in an entirely different city.

Master also followed up with a picture of his lovely date which made me feel all sorts of things. Ms D is attractive in an unconventional way, which I know appeals greatly to Master. She exudes an air of confidence which adds to her allure. I also know that she is very accomplished, a little nugget of information Master slipped in, that got me feeling rather small. And then there was the fact that they were enjoying food and wine in what looked like a very nice restaurant. This got me a little jealous as Master and I rarely dine out, usually only on special occasions. (Note: Nice dinners are a reward for my good behaviour, thus they are not an entitlement I expect as Master’s wife.)

The rest of the night while they adjourned to Ms D’s place and played was quiet for me. Master updated with short texts here and there, but I was otherwise on my own. This is probably the part where it started getting a little difficult. Still, I knew Master would be returning to his room for the night, and I had asked for him to text me when he left. If I was still up, I badly wanted some time on a call with him. I went to sleep in my piggy bed, though I knew it would be fitful.

And this is where it got a little bit awry. I awoke just past 2am and saw a few texts from Master saying he was done and would be leaving soon. These had been sent about 30 minutes prior at 1.30am. So I got in touch, hoping to catch him on his way back, but was met with silence for close to an hour. Logically, I knew that he had probably forgotten the time and was still at her place, but I started getting very anxious. Anyway, when he finally checked his texts at 3am, he let me know he was leaving and we had our call.

I’ll admit I was fuming. I felt extremely out of control having him disappear on me the way he did. However, on his end, he’d assumed I’d gone to sleep and didn’t feel the need to update me again. It was a classic case of miscommunication and the experience taught us the importance of very regular check-ins for me to feel secure. It also made me realise that I personally require a debrief call with Master after each scene, sort of aftercare for me. Even though I am not physically present, the whole experience is in essence a very intense emotional scene.

Although this part of the night was challenging, I’m really happy it gave us an opportunity to discover my needs to keep me feeling safe. We had a good talk and I identified two things. The first, as mentioned above, is a debrief after the scene. The second, I discovered quite unexpectedly. I discovered that it really bothers me in a bad way when Master spends the night with someone else. When Master had failed to respond to his messages, my brain had instantly gone down the rabbit hole assuming he’d fallen asleep and would be spending the night, and that was not ok. I didn’t realise it at the time, but it was precisely the sleeping over that had made the previous two cuckings so difficult for me.

However, I didn’t know why this mattered so much to me and I wasn’t able to express it to Master either until last night. I attended TheKinkShrink’s workshop on jealousy and she explained there were two types between couples – sexual jealousy and emotional jealousy. That’s when it started to make sense. I fetishize sexual jealousy, but emotional jealousy is currently a limit. I relish the jealousy and humiliation from Master playing with and fucking someone else, but I am unable to process the jealousy of him being intimate with someone else and potentially developing feelings. Sleeping sans sex with someone else is a whole lot more intimate than fucking, and this makes me jealous in a bad way.

I’m reassured that Master is respectful of my needs and willing to give me time to embrace the situation. We agreed on certain boundaries (no sleeping over, a call at the end of the night) for the time being, until I get more comfortable with the whole situation. I am aware that emotions will inevitably develop in any relationship, play or otherwise, and I am also aware that not spending the night is arbitrary in nature. I am certain that I will be able to accept this eventually, but for now, this helps me a tonne.

On the upside, Master is very taken by Ms D, so taken that he shared he would like to see her exclusively. I am surprisingly comfortable with this. I find Ms D to be very respectful of our dynamic and interested in contributing to it. And honestly, the knowledge that just one other woman is getting all the pleasure and orgasms that I’m not is HOT. This opens up so many more possibilities in the future for a more intense cuckqueaning dynamic. I do seek her patience in allowing me to get used to things little by little, as I have always been able to do in the past.

I am well aware that it is not possible to prevent the development of feelings, even if a relationship is supposed to be purely sexual. Over time, fondness and attachment grows and I am prepared for that. Master and I had a good discussion and agreed that our dynamic would always take centrestage. I still hold the right to my safeword, but I agreed not to use it unless my boundaries are breached or our dynamic is affected. For now, I think this is the best deliverance of control I can manage in the context of cuckqueaning, and I am comfortable with that.

Finally, I have so many ideas on how I see this dynamic potentially growing with Ms D, but I think that deserves its own post. I’ll end off by letting you know that I wrote her a nice little thank-you message for taking such good care of Master. I really hope she likes it. 🙂

Cucked by Ms D Part 1

Photo by armina arhm on Unsplash

Master is having dinner with Ms D right now. They just met, and I received the instruction from Master to put on my nipple clamps. He will inform her of them at some point through dinner and she will decide when I get to remove them. I felt ambitious so rather than go with the easy rubber tipped clamps on a chain, I selected the clover clamps with weights. Master said he likes it when I am ambitious. I hope I don’t live to regret this.

The pain helps me focus. It cuts through all the emotional hoops and gives me something tangible to focus on – my poor nipples. I’m sitting as still as I can so as not to make the weights swing too much, so I’m typing this out on my smartphone rather than on my computer. Master told me to be prepared to keep them on for long, and I’m secretly hoping I’ll get to suffer throughout their dinner. The knowledge that I’m in pain while they’re getting to know each other and flirting is such a turn on.

This will be the third time that Master is cucking me in a month. This time feels a lot easier. I think I’ve finally got used to Master taking his weekly trips to Paris. Before these, we’d never spent nights apart at all, so they certainly took some getting used to. I think I’ve also learnt to embrace my role as Master’s cuckquean slave with a lot more grace than before. I guess Master was right when he said that I would get used to it, just as I’ve got used to wearing the chastity belt and now my collar 24/7, just as I’ve got used to going without vaginal sex and clitoral stimulation, just as I will also get used to sleeping in Master’s closet.

Last night, Master prepped me for today’s cucking by having me worship his feet and then his cock. Foot worship is something that we only recently started doing, when I begged Master to “officially” deny me certain things. Over time, Master had already stopped engaging in these acts with me as part of my training to be his anal-only fuck pig, but he never made it known that they were off the table, so I sought some clarification. The acts I’m no longer eligible for are pussy fucking (obviously), fingering of my pussy, cunnilingus, and making out with Master. Instead, I get fingered and fucked in the ass, and I get to make out with Master’s feet. 🥺 (There’s no substitute for cunnilingus, sadly.)

I love making out with Master’s feet because it makes me feel so low and so small. It’s still winter here so it’s pretty cold. I usually get under the duvet and lay myself diagonal to Master, my face where his feet are. There, I kiss, lick and suck till Master nudges me to tell me to switch foot, or that he’s had enough. He always laughs, whenever I am done, that my face smells like his feet. No wonder he won’t kiss me! While making out with Master’s feet, I like to imagine him making out with other women. Master is a passionate kisser and it must feel so very nice to make out with him. It’s a pity I no longer deserve such pleasures.

When I was done, Master hugged me close and started teasing me by telling me what he would do to Ms D today. He said he hasn’t licked a pussy in a long time and he’s looking forward to doing that. Of course that made me squirm and gush. To drive his point home, he brought his fingers up against my chastity shield, right where my clit was, and gave it a little push. I couldn’t feel anything but my mind could imagine how it might feel if the shield weren’t present. I miss the attention, I really do, but again, I know I no longer deserve such pleasures.

I asked Master if I could suck his cock and he agreed, so I slid under the covers and gently sucked on his cock till I felt him grow in my mouth. He’d shared that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to perform, having a very high pressure meeting the following morning. His mind was on work and it was difficult for him to get it off work, but I set my mind to try. I got between his legs and started alternating between using my hand and mouth on his cock and deepthroating him. It wasn’t too long before he got very hard, and I emerged from under the covers and told him, in a playful manner, “Master, it doesn’t look like you have any trouble getting hard.” He laughed, unlocked my chastity belt and we had intense anal sex.

I knew Master still wasn’t sure if he’d be able to orgasm, but he pounded me hard regardless, knowing full well that I needed it that night, especially before a cucking scene the next day. But guess what? Maybe it was the combination of my wailing and my tears, but he came. Hard. Of course, I was a proud little piggy and it showed. On my end, I thoroughly enjoyed the pounding, especially when it provided a nice respite from the migraine I had been nursing since the morning. Master didn’t slap me in this scene nor shake my head around too much as he didn’t want to make it worse, but the fucking sure helped, at least for the time we fucked.

As we lay in bed cuddling, Master suggested that I sleep in my piggy bed that night, rather than wait till the following night. I must have looked surprised at his suggestion as he asked if I was up for it. I’ll admit that I had to think it over a little. On one hand, I wanted to sleep with Master the night before he left for Paris, but on the other, I knew that sleeping in my piggy bed was a good practice and would help keep me in a good space. So I agreed, and I asked to be tucked in after we’d cuddled a little bit more.

When Master was ready to turn the lights off, he headed off to use the restroom a last time and told me to enjoy the last few minutes in his bed. I felt at peace when I heard that, for some reason. When he got back to the bedroom, I was ready with my pillow in hand. He opened the closet door and I climbed inside and got comfortable. He gave me a kiss on the forehead and then shut the doors, leaving them ajar so that airflow wouldn’t be an issue. I didn’t sleep very well last night, a mixture of sleeping in a new bed and also managing my migraine pain which had returned with a vengeance. But my heart was at peace, I felt like I was exactly where I should be.

This morning, before Master left, I shared with him that I had struggled to sleep last night. He replied that I would get used to it, but that I might get to share his bed when he returns on Thursday. ❤️ Annnddd I just received a little voice message from Ms D permitting me to remove my clamps. It sounds like their dinner is going well and I’m going to channel happy thoughts and good feelings to get me through the rest of the night.

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.

I’m in a happy space!

I am happy.

In the past two days, Master has called me into his office to suck him off when he was ready to cum. So this is the compromise. Master still enjoys his me-time touching himself while surfing porn, and when he’s about ready to cum, he calls me in to finish him off, all the while still perusing porn as though I’m not there. I squeeze myself under his desk and remain as unobtrusive as I can while working hard on making him cum with my mouth and hands. I’m happy to report that I did a superb job both times so I will be used this way more often. I’m not really sure what I find hotter – Master using me as a sextoy or being told to get out once I’ve cleaned his cock with my mouth. 🤔

And then there was tonight. We played hard. I knew it was coming since we always have one intense scene every Sunday before the workweek starts. It’s a great way for Master to unwind and clear his head before Monday. So at 9.30pm sharp, I was kneeling on the bed in wait. Music was playing from my computer speakers and there were three implements on the bed that I’d been tasked to select. As usual, being a sucker for pain, I’d gone with three I knew would be difficult to take, but which I adored – the thick rattan cane, the sadistick (a flexible metal rod with a rubber tip that you pull back and release with force), and the looped delrin paddle.

When Master entered, he told me to stand at the edge of the bed with my hands on it, back arched. This was the first position – bend – and I was to remember it. Then he starting spanking me, hard enough for me to realize he was warming me up. Next, he reached for the delrin paddle and started using it on my ass and the backs of my upper thighs. Mmm I have to admit I really love it when he hits my thighs. They hurt so badly and mark so brilliantly after. When we were still in Singapore, I used to take regular pole dance lessons so I’d begged Master to go light on my thighs as I didn’t want to have to explain the marks to my teacher and classmates. It feels liberating to know that here, I can wear purple bruises down my legs and no one would be any the wiser.

I have no clue how many strokes I took but I knew I would have nice marks from the delrin paddle. Then, Master picked up the rattan cane and told me to start counting. Swish. Un, Master. Swish. Deux, Master. And this continued until he stopped. I saw through the reflection in the glass of the window that he’d picked up his mobile phone. I thought he was taking a picture of me, but he was taking very long. I was perplexed but I didn’t move. Suddenly, he placed his mobile phone on the bed, right below my face. There was a picture on the screen of a very beautiful woman. It only showed the bottom half of her face and her lips were gorgeous. And her body… My god. Tight with beautiful breasts. Not big and fake like mine were, but pear shaped, firm and a good size.

“You know who that is, don’t you?” Master asked. Yes, yes indeed I did. It was Ms D, the lady Master sees this Wednesday in Paris. He told me she’d sent him a few pictures to taunt me with. Well, it worked. Taunted, I was. I like my body, but I was nowhere as tight as she was. Clearly, she worked out a lot more than I did. Her tummy was taut, her nails beautifully done, her make up flawless. She made me feel kind of frumpy, truth be told. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” he asked again, as he picked up his mobile phone to swipe to the next picture. This one was taken from the top down, she was lying on the floor on her side, clad in very sexy black panties and sexy black heels. Again, her body was perfection.

Then, the strokes restarted. “Keep your eyes on the picture as you count. Don’t you dare look away.” Yes Master. He alternated the cane with the sadistick, not stopping till I’d reached trente (thirty). The last few strokes were delivered quickly in succession and I barely managed to stay in position with my feet planted flat on the ground. I knew that lifting them would only result in more punishment. I definitely could have taken more, but I guess Master felt it was time to take my ass, so he ordered me to kneel before informing me that this was the second position. OK, I could keep up so far. I sucked his cock, feeling it swell and harden in my mouth, then throat, feeling him push it deep in my throat as he held the back of my head down against him. He only released me when I started gagging.

“Lie down with your head off the edge of the bed.” As I quickly assumed the position, Master informed me this was the third position – edge. He fucked my throat like this for awhile, only letting me breathe when I started gagging or choking. I love being used this way. Yes, it is sexual and maybe not really bdsm play, but I love being dominated through face fucking and anal sex. Perhaps it’s more the cognizance that these are the only ways Master uses me, rather than the physical acts themselves, that make me feel absolutely submissive. Engaging in them reminds me that I’m just an anal-only fuck pig. My pleasure doesn’t matter when we fuck, only Master’s does. Master uses my ass because it’s his preferred hole, and I’m lucky I can cum from it, but it wouldn’t change a thing if I couldn’t.

I’m on my period right now so I had a tampon up my pussy. Master didn’t show my clit nor pussy any attention today. Sometimes, he slaps his cock against my clit to tease it, or pushes himself inside my sloppy pussy to lubricate his cock. Today, all he did was rub his cock outside my pussy and it lubed him up well enough to take me up the ass. And he did, missionary style at first so he could choke me while fucking me. Of course I started begging for permission to cum and then came lots. Then, “bend,” Master called. For a moment, I was lost. It didn’t mean anything to me, and then I remembered. I quickly got into the first position, standing with my hands on the bed, back arched. “You’re such a stupid piggy, aren’t you?” Master berated before picking up the delrin paddle and giving me a couple of hard swats on the ass. He plunged his cock into my ass while I was still tensed from the pain. It was quite splendid.

He fucked me really long and really hard, making me face fuck myself in between. His cock never entered my pussy once and it was like my clit didn’t even exist. When I was lying on my belly with him on top of me, his cock deep in my ass, he reminded me that this is the only way I’m fucked now. All the (pussy and clit) orgasms, the pussy fucking, the pleasure, they go to proper women, not pigs like me. After Master finally came, we cuddled for a bit, hugging each other tight and whispering words of love and endearment. I asked him why all the women he’s hooked up with in France have been so insanely hot. He laughed and said I should be happy that when he’s not using his piggy, he’s enjoying some top shelf quality ladies. I had a fleeting thought that that made me bottom shelf stuff. The stuff you have often enough because it’s cheap and easily available, but lacking the refinement and pleasure of the high-end top shelf products. Yes, he was right, and I could get behind that idea.

I talked a little bit about the importance of the pre-cucking scene for me. Today was absolutely spot on. As I took pain while staring at Ms D’s perfect body, I felt put in place. What right did I have to deny Master the pleasure of such perfection when I had no basis for comparison? Of course he should enjoy himself with her, and I’m happy to say that whatever jealousy I felt was immensely hot. Oh, and also, my bed in the closet is to be used for the first time that night. While Master is away in the arms of Ms D, I am to sleep in my pet bed, off Master’s bed, and use the opportunity to reflect on my new role in life – his frequently cucked piggy slave. The belt went back on after I cleaned myself up, further cementing the fact that Master gave zero fucks about my pleasure. Of course I do get pleasure from being treated this way, but clit orgasms… God I miss them.

(To Ms D, if you’re reading, thank you so much for the pictures. They really contributed to an amazing scene. And thank you, also, so much for being my Master’s muse. I truly hope that you will find great pleasure in your play with him. I am both humbled and honored at being allowed this little glimpse of your gorgeous body, and I have no doubt Master will relish his time with you.)

My Fondest Cuckqueaning Scene

Today, I was asked whether I’ve ever participated in a cuckqueaning scene, or have I always been in another room or not in the same place at all. Truth is, yes I have. Multiple times, in fact. I just never wrote much about them because most didn’t quite check my boxes. Most of the women who wanted me present were either keen on threesomes, looking to be co-dominated by me and Master, or interesting in subbing alongside me. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with these permutations. I still enjoyed each and every one of these scenes, even if the cuckqueaning was simply implied or something for Master and I to pick up on after the lady had left.

There was, however, one lady who was very interested in our dynamic and equally interested in topping and humiliating me. We only had one scene with her before the pandemic hit and my country went into lockdown. By the time restrictions lifted, we had drifted too far to pick up where we left off, so we stayed friends but didn’t play again. I’m going to be writing this from memory and while my recount will be based on what really happened, I will be tweaking some parts to neaten the delivery, because, here’s the thing, her ideas were fantastic, but she wasn’t an experienced domme at all so the execution was a little flawed. Let’s just say that I’ll be remembering this scene as fondly as I can.

This was early 2020. I’d just started exploring cuckqueaning with Master. We’d been seeing each other a year by that point so I felt like I was ready to give it a go with him. Master had a couple of play partners, and my very first cuckqueaning scene was with one of them. She came over to play with and fuck Master, knowing full well I was home and in the next room. Mid way through their scene, I was allowed to step in to see her. She had a blindfold on so I couldn’t see her face, nor could she mine. Still, that image of her tied up on the bed, her legs tied spread and her pussy pointed right at me, will probably remain in my memory forever.

Anyway, my second cuckqueaning experience with Master involved someone he’d met here on fl. She was an expatriate, like him, and identified as a switch. She was very keen to play with the two of us and relished the idea of being a cuckcake. That evening, she arrived dressed in (I kid you not) a very hot black latex dress. This was in Singapore, mind you, with temperatures averaging thirty degrees Celsius. So kudos to her, she looked stunning and it was obvious that Master thought so to.

After the formalities, I scurried off to prepare and serve dinner. While I was banging around in the kitchen, I thought I heard the faint sound of moaning. But with the whir of the oven in the background, I wasn’t sure. I peeked through the small glass window in the kitchen door and, sure enough, spotted Master and Ms K, her name, making out on the sofa. I have no clue whether they fucked or not, I couldn’t see much and the oven had dinged. When I emerged from the kitchen with dinner, Master strutted over to me, a smirk on his face, and held up a used condom. He only disposed of it after making sure I fully understood what it meant. I remember wishing he’d made me swallow the contents, like I usually did when we played, but I knew he was being careful not to push me too far in front of someone new.

So we had dinner. It was delicious and there was a lot of chatting and flirting at the table. Ms K was sitting bare assed on her chair, as Master had asked her to. She had also taken off her dress by this point and was sitting across me in a black latex bra and short latex skirt. Distracting, to say the least. Once we were done with dinner, Ms K and Master took a shower together while I did the dishes. I remember hearing a lot of laughter and moans coming from the shower. I was pretty sure they fucked again, and when they emerged, I was standing as instructed, naked from the waist down, standing with my legs spread on top of one of the dining chairs. I was also facing away from the bathroom so I could only hear them when they emerged.

I was so excited that I was already extremely wet, my pussy juice snaking down my thigh and threatening to create a wet patch on the seat of the chair. I had no idea what Ms K had in mind, but I knew she wanted the chance to top me. She pulled out a small jade ball from her handbag and showed it to me. It had a string attached to it and it looked weighty. As though reading my mind, she gave it a little toss before catching it in her palm and announcing to me that it was indeed quite heavy. She then told me she was going to see how tight my pussy was because hers was so tight she could milk a man to orgasm just by clenching and unclenching, her words, not mine. I was so wet that as hard as I tried, I could not keep the jade ball for long in my pussy. I wasn’t allowed to close my legs though I felt that would have made the task a little bit more achievable. But I guess my failure was the idea because it gave her the fodder she needed to mock me for my loose pussy, and mock me she did.

They told me to follow them as they adjourned to the bedroom. There, my cuffs were locked in front of my body and I was told to stand against the wall, facing it. I was told to assume the position for impact, which meant my hands were to be placed palms flat on the wall, slightly higher than my face. I was also to stick my butt out slightly while arching my back. Ms K started commenting on the obvious differences between our bodies… How my boobs were fake but still similar in size to hers, how her body was much curvier than mine, how she was much taller than I was. She asked Master how good I was at taking pain and Master offered to show her. He warmed me up a little before caning me hard. I was well trained enough to keep still and to keep count. She found it absolutely adorable (her words) and asked if she could use her crop on me. Master agreed and she went to town on my ass. Honestly, compared to Master’s strokes, hers were a lot lighter, BUT the whole situation was very hot.

She inserted one of my own kegel balls, a much bigger weighted ball than the jade one she’d used earlier, so it pretty much stayed in with little effort. However, she started piling on the weights. Pretty quickly, I felt the ball plop out of my sloppy pussy, landing on the floor with a thud. Laughter filled the room and I was told to go stand in the corner, facing the wall. I was only good enough to hear them fuck. So I did, and I remember being so incredibly turned on. I knew I’d have a heck of a time cleaning the floor up after we were done – pussy juice is slimy and sticky and dries up quickly. I could hear them making out, the sounds of their long kisses music to my ears. Eventually, I was told to turn around, and I did so to the view of Master inserting his cock in Ms K’s pussy, her eyes staring directly at me as she asked me how I felt watching my boyfriend (we weren’t married yet) with his cock in another woman.

It was quite dreamy. Master would fuck her for a while, pull out, remove the condom and beckon me over to suck him while he would use his mouth and fingers on her, keeping her nice and horny. When he was ready, he’d put on another condom and plunge right into her waiting pussy. After he came, he pulled off the condom and made me clean up his cock. When I was done, they pulled me up on the bed and Ms K sat her just-fucked pussy right onto my face. Ms K was curvy and she had a really nice meaty pussy. Plus, she was a very tall girl and bigger built than me. The weight of her and the sheer size of her pussy compared to my face suffocated me. I was licking for dear life, hoping she’d remember to let me breathe. Still, not a bad way to go. 😂

I felt Master straddle me and push my legs apart. Then he pushed his cock into me while making out with Ms K. He had just come so his cock was just chubby. He started comparing my pussy to hers, saying he couldn’t feel much in my loose pussy. Eventually, he pulled out and Ms K got off my face at the same time. The two of them flanked me, one on my left and one on my right. I felt my vibrator thrust into my hand and I was told to make myself cum. While the vibrator buzzed away against my engorged clit, Master and Ms K started kissing right above my face. I don’t think I’ve cum quite so hard and so beautifully before. I still think about that view from time to time. It’s hard to forget.

The rest of the night was spent rather casually. We had more wine, chit chatted about kink and our experiences with other partners, we experimented a little bit more with girl-on-girl action. Both Ms K and I had not had much experience with women so we traded tips on how to make each other cum. That was pretty wholesome. Lol. She left when none of us was able to deliver a sentence without yawning, and Master and I fell asleep in each other’s arms.

So this was my best in-person cuckqueaning scene. All the elements I needed were present. It’s a pity we didn’t have the chance to explore another scene with Ms K. As with all dynamics, the play gets better and better the more you know about each other’s likes, dislikes and buttons. I could tell she really enjoyed the role of a cuckcake; she was such a natural! Nonetheless, I’m pretty hopeful we find someone like this now, but even meaner. I don’t want to get to cum at the end of the scene! And I’d love to be sent to the closet to sleep in my piggy bed while she and Master fall asleep in each other’s arms.