Ma Vie en Rose

I read a post by Naughty Nora recently in which she described her fantasy life. That got me feeling rather inspired and I decided to take her lead and do the same. But first, some context to explain my motivation… Master and I haven’t been living our best M/s life for the past couple of months. There are many factors. My sudden aversion toward cuckqueaning some months ago plays a part. Master’s backbreaking work schedule plays another. But then there is also something very exciting that inadvertently drew our focus away from kink. We have spent the past few months searching for and procuring our forever home, or at least for the next decade. You can imagine the amount of time and energy that went into this endeavour, so I suppose it is no surprise that we haven’t been too focused on M/s.

In slightly over a month, Master and I will be shifting into our first owned property. I’m delighted, to say the least. It is a four-bedroom duplex apartment located in a small town to the south of Lyon where we currently reside. Between the two of us, that is a lot of space. I know that it is probably not surprising to those of you who live in places like the US, but coming from Singapore, I’ve only ever known small spaces. Anyway, with so much space comes so many possibilities. Master and I have talked and come to the mutual decision that we would really like to restart our M/s dynamic in the new year, building it up systematically until we shift into our new apartment, at which point we will have the structure in place with no bad habits to fall back on.

Let me clarify what I mean by ‘bad habits’. When I am accustomed to a certain way of life, there is a tendency to fall back into those routines when the focus on M/s wanes. For example, we had, for a period, set up my sleeping space on the floor of the living room, akin to a pet bed. That was really hot when the dynamic was strong, but once we got busy with other things, I wheedled my way back into bed with Master, and that’s where I’ve been ever since. I like to think, perhaps naively, that if we set up the rules and structures from day one, I won’t feel entitled to something I never had. Certainly, I have no clue if this will actually work, but Master likes the idea of permanence in some of our rules, so that is something we will work towards. Some other less consequential ones can be lifted when needed, such as in the event of an emergency or illness.

In my writing, I allowed myself to imagine my best slave life. I have a pretty vivid and ambitious imagination, particularly when horny, so there are some bits that will probably not be explored in real life, but we are using my writing as a reference for discussion. In essence, my wishlist is (1) for us to put in place certain restrictions to very clearly mark my role as his slave, (2) to add to my current list of tasks, ideally to include tasks of a sexual nature, and (3) to safely reintroduce cuckqueaning into our dynamic.

On cuckqueaning, I’ve spent the past couple of months thinking and overthinking our recent experiences. I’ve pondered what went well and what went wrong. I came to the conclusion that I want need to be cucked. In truth, it is the only thing I think about when masturbating. It is the only type of porn I gravitate to. I loved certain aspects of the experience, namely the way it added to the intensity of our play and the way it lent authenticity to some of the restrictions we have in place. For instance, Master doesn’t focus on my pleasure when we play, and while I can absolutely find this hot through the lens of his fuck toy, it is just that much hotter when viewed through the lens of his cuckquean, particularly when I bask in the knowledge that he does indeed very much so focus on pleasuring his other partners. I also figured out that I have a tendency to fixate and obsess when I know too much about the other party. I see her as a direct contender and fear he will replace me. Perhaps if his ‘conquests’ were nameless and faceless (and we stanced this lack of knowledge as a privilege I was not allowed), it might be easier for me. Again, this is pure speculation, but Master agreed this was an interesting angle worth exploring.

So without further ado, here’s my take on ‘My Fantasy Life’…

The alarm clock rings at 7.30am, signalling the start to a new day. Every morning, I am to wake at least an hour before Master needs to start getting ready for work to tend to his needs. I start the day by putting my bed away. I sleep on a quilt intended for the convertible sofa that functions as a guestbed. As his slave, I am not allowed to sleep on the sofa, so I sleep on the quilt laid out on the floor beside the sofa. The guest room, which also houses most of my belongings, is located on the first floor of our two-storey apartment. It has an attached toilet and shower, the only ones in the apartment I am allowed to use.

I neatly fold up the quilt and deposit it, along with my pillow, in the wardrobe of the guestroom. Technically, it is my room since all of my things are in it and it is where I spend the most amount of my time. My desk and computer are in it, my craft materials, even a good proportion of my clothes, and we don’t even have guests stay the night often. However, Master is adament that as a slave, I must never believe that I have a right to anything. All of these are simply on loan to me, and Master can take them away just as easily.

After making my bed, I freshen myself up. I wash my face, brush my teeth and wash my pussy as best as I can underneath the steel chastity belt I wear pretty much permanently. Master only removes it when we go out, but I have to wear a butt plug whenever the belt is off, so I never forget what I am. The steel shield of the belt is tight across my genitals, cutting off access to my clit and pussy. Well, that’s not quite true. I can still access my pussy by sliding the shield to the side, but the most I can insert is a finger at an awkward angle. Hardly satisfying. I can, however, insert and remove tampons, thus I wear the belt even when I am on my period. I daresay this is the most difficult time because everything is sensitive and the belt only heightens my perpetual arousal.

Anyway, I clean myself up just in case Master chooses to deposit his sperm in my pussy, more lovingly known as my lube dispenser and cum hole. He never fucks it anymore; he always uses my ass or mouth till he is very close and then finishes in my pussy in just a few thrusts. It feels good though, I can’t complain. I know my pussy doesn’t deserve his cock, so I am contented to take what I can get, even if it is just a few seconds of fucking. The only reason why Master even bothers with my pussy is because we are trying for a baby. I can’t imagine what will happen after we succeed or if Master decides we will remain childless. I suppose I will have to be thankful for the few half strokes he gives me to lube his cock up before plunging it in my ass, or the annual pussy fucking I get on my birthday, also our wedding anniversary, just to remind me of what I have given up to be his slave.

When I am done, I climb the stairs and enter Master’s bedroom as quietly as I can. The time is now 8am, just half an hour before he has to start getting ready for work. I give him a gentle kiss on the cheek and wait for him to acknowledge me before slipping under the covers. He takes me in his arms and warms me up before telling me to wait. Master heads to the toilet to pee and then returns to bed. This is my cue to start his morning blowjob. I make my way between his legs and take his cock in my mouth. There is a drop of residual pee, but I lap it up greedily, knowing that fuck pigs take whatever is given without complaint.

I work hard at Master’s cock, licking, sucking, using my hands when my mouth tires. Soon, I hear him groan I feel his hand at the back of my head, urging me to keep going. I know this means he is close so I maintain the momentum, stroking his shaft and sucking his cock head at the same time. He cums with a loud growl, filling my mouth with his seed. I swallow hungrily, just a little bit disappointed that my pussy won’t be getting any attention but I’ve gotten used to serving Master without reward. I emerge from under the sheets to his wide smile. “Good morning, Master,” I say, settling into his arms for a little bit of morning cuddles. “Good morning, piggy,” Master replies, kissing the top of my head. We stay like this for awhile, and then Master goes off to freshen up while I prepare his breakfast.

A cup of coffee and a small bowl of yoghurt and fruit await him as he descends the stairs. “What is your plan for the day, piggy?” Master asks. I fill him in on my goals for the day – an hour of French class, an hour of yoga, a trip out to get some bread, how much writing I hope to achieve, etc. I also run through my list of slave tasks – an enema to prepare my ass for fucking, 30 minutes with the nipple clamps on while I practise my deep throat skills on a dildo, and at least an hour with the butt plug inserted. I may not have to work, but my days are filled serving Master and working on myself.

“I have a date tonight so you don’t have to prepare dinner for me. I don’t want you eating rubbish though, so just a salad for yourself. Make sure you take a photo of your meal and send it to me so I know you aren’t being a greedy piggy. No need to clean your ass today, clearly I won’t be using it. You will, however, go through the entire list of your cucking tasks when I’m out, sending me pictures to prove they are done. As usual, don’t expect a reply since I’ll be busy enjoying the company of a real woman, but I want to see that you know your place. Do you understand, piggy?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Master.”

“Don’t look so sad, piggy. Come here, kneel at my feet.”

I did as he asked.

“Why do I fuck other women, piggy?” Master asked.

“Because I am just your fuckpig, Master.”

“And what does that mean, piggy?”

“It means I’m your toy to use when you need a warm hole to cum in, Master.”

“That’s right, like a living breathing fleshlight. And remind me, what do I do with real women that I don’t do with my fuckpig?”

“You make out with them, you go down on them, you finger them and you give them plenty of orgasms.”

“And do you get any of these, piggy?”

“No, Master.”

“When was the last time we made out?”

“We don’t, Master. You only peck me on the lips, but I never get your tongue in my mouth. I make out with your feet, Master.”

“Exactly. And why don’t I make out with you?”

“Because I use my mouth to make out with you feet, lick your ass and suck your cock, even if it’s dirty from fucking my ass.”

“That’s right. I wouldn’t want to make out with that dirty mouth hole of yours, would I? And when was the last time I went down on you or fingered you?”

“I don’t remember, Master… Before we moved to France?”

“And do you think you deserve to have my mouth or fingers on your pussy?”

“No, Master. Not ever.”

“Good piggy. But I do enjoy eating and fingering pussy, just not yours.”

I swallowed hard again as I felt my pussy gush from Master’s words. “Yes, Master, piggy knows it doesn’t get to feel Master’s mouth or fingers on its pussy, except maybe on its birthday.”

“Very good, piggy. And finally, when was the last time you came, piggy? From your clit of course. I don’t care how often you cum from your ass.”

“Erm… 3 weeks ago, Master.”

“Yes, and tell me how you came.”

“Piggy gave itself a ruined orgasm with the vibrator over the chastity shield.”

“Ah yes, that’s right. It made me laugh to watch you struggle so hard to cum in your belt, only to have to ruin it. But that’s the only way you cum these days, if absolutely necessary. And when was your last proper orgasm, piggy?”

“Piggy can’t remember, Master.”

“Well if you’re a good piggy and an even better cuck, maybe you’ll get to cum on your birthday. Would you like that, piggy?”

“Yes, please, Master.”

“Now, remind me of what you have to do tonight while I am out fucking someone else.”

“I have to wear my piggy hood for the whole evening so I always remember what I am when I look in the mirror. I am to write Master a heartfelt letter thanking you for cucking me. After that, I have to insert my anal plug, and tease my clit over the chastity belt with the vibrator on low, imagining you fucking a real woman. If possible, I am allowed to edge three times. If not, I will stop after 30 minutes. Once done, I am to write lines until bedtime. I will write the line “It is Master’s right to fuck whoever he pleases because I am just a fuckpig.” over and over again until 11pm. I will sleep with the anal plug inserted tonight, so I remember that when Master fucks me, my ass is filled but my pussy always stays empty, unlike the other women that Master fucks.” I’ve memorised this spiel so it isn’t difficult to regurgitate it. I repeat it to myself often when I need a reminder of my station as Master’s cuck.

“Good piggy. Now that doesn’t mean I won’t fuck her in the ass, but I will very much enjoy her pussy. Anyway, none of that is relevant to you, is it?”

“No Master. Piggy has no right to know anything about who Master fucks nor what you do with them.”

“That’s right. If I’m in the mood, I might tell you a little but it’s none of your business, is it, piggy?”

“No Master, it’s none of my business.”

“Good. Now get on with your day. I have to work. I love you, piggy.”

“Yes Master. I love you too,” I said before getting up and clearing Master’s dishes.

And this was our life. Once a week at maximum, Master would head out for a few hours to meet and fuck someone else – a real woman. I never knew if it was the same person or if it was someone new. We realised that when I had a name and face to fixate on, that was what I did – obsess – and I would get overly worried that I was going to be replaced. So instead, I was no longer privy to that knowledge. When Master was in Paris, he would sometimes drop me a text with instructions to do my cucking tasks that evening and I’d understand that to mean he was meeting someone. Or sometimes he wouldn’t tell me at all until he returned. When he was home, he would tell me the morning of his date. All of this was so that I wouldn’t have time to overthink.

It was difficult initially, but I think I’ve come to accept it as part and parcel of my life. In fact, there are rewards to being cucked. I get to spend the following night, sometimes two, in Master’s bed. He also sometimes give me little momentos from his dates – a picture of the restaurant he’s taken his date, the used condom wrapper from their time together, even a used g-string on one occasion. I keep all of these in a box that I look through whenever I needed a reminder of just how pathetic I am. Sometimes, I do so just before I start my cucking tasks for inspiration. And of course, Master always takes a renewed interest in me after fucking someone else. He pushes me a lot harder in our scenes and breaks me down just a little bit more than usual. I particularly love it when he makes me thank him for cucking me while caning me hard.

Master has hinted that he will eventually start bringing his dates home to fuck. Master likes the idea that everytime I am allowed to sleep in his bed, it is with the knowledge that countless other women have been pleasured by him in it. Just not me. I will probably be confined to the guestroom while they are over, or maybe even the garage, as Master has suggested. I can’t say the idea doesn’t turn me on, and knowing Master, it will be a reality sooner rather than later.

Master wants us to revisit this piece of writing, drawing ideas on how we can proceed. I’m eager to hear his thoughts – what resonated with him and what didn’t. As always, he has the final say, but I am blessed to have an owner who constantly listens and takes my needs to heart.

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.

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.

Cuckqueaning Milestone Crossed

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.

The Steep Learning Curve of Cuckqueaning

I have a pretty curious mind. It’s a pity I’ve never been very curious about academic things. :X Instead, I spend most of my time thinking about kink. In particular, my kinks. While others spend a lot of their time reading up about technology (like Master) or… I don’t know… evolution (like someone else I know), I am pretty much only concerned with honing my kinks to a T. I adore figuring out what works for me and what doesn’t, and having a partner who’s on the same page is such a treat (when he isn’t binging on tech news).

Let’s take orgasm denial, for instance. I can only describe our approach as experimental. Over the years, we’ve set out to answer a couple of burning questions, such as how I respond to denial while honor bound as opposed to while wearing a chastity belt, whether regular edging adds to or detracts from the experience, how long perpetual arousal can be sustained and how the inevitable dip in arousal can be delayed or prevented. It’s fun, almost scientific, wouldn’t you agree?

And then there’s cuckqueaning, and goodness me… This is a tough one. I have to say the learning curve for this particular kink is the steepest I’ve encountered so far. I feel like we are spending so much of our time exploring, calibrating, experimenting, reviewing, over and over again. Why do I even like cuckqueaning? What is it about this kink that enthralls me so? How do I manage my emotions when arousal wanes? What kind of cuckqueaning set up is ideal? How best to optimize the fine balance between what’s hot and what’s not? What’s up with me and jealousy? Why does it turn me on so much?

For the past two years, Master and I have been experimenting with cuckqueaning within a healthy dynamic. We started out light and then slowly ramped up the intensity. I chickened out at one point and we put a stop to all activity for a bit. Then we tried to see if we could make the kink work in a more controlled fashion, where I wasn’t always humiliated but instead, co-dominating alongside Master, who would of course go on to fuck her. We discovered that though this was incredibly fun, particularly with S our female pet, it didn’t give me what I needed, which was to feel small.

So this is perhaps our fourth go at cuckqueaning. We are in a good dynamic at present, something I’ve written extensively about in the weeks prior. We have a good M/s set up where I’m essentially a live-in house slave, I can fully focus on serving Master and occupying a submissive headspace. We weren’t too sure initially how we would go about exploring cuckqueaning within this set up until we learnt that Master would be required to travel to Paris once a week for work. It felt like the perfect opportunity. He would meet women while there, cuck me in my absence and come back home to rub it in my face.

And it happened for the first time this week… Master headed up to Paris for work on Thursday and spent the night with a young lady he had matched up with on a dating app. It was a huge step for us. This was the first time Master spent an entire night with someone else. This was also the first time I was entirely uninvolved. And how did it go? On the surface, it went according to plan. Master met up with her after he was done with work. They went for a nice dinner at a restaurant near her place, then they headed back to hers for a little extra extra. He slept over at her place, went to work the next morning and then found some time to give me a call.

On my end, the earlier half of the night was pretty manageable. Sure, I had my little anxiety spike, as expected, but I was OK after Master took a bit of time to put me in my place via text, and I found myself working on a long private journal entry to him while he was busy with her. I went to bed at a decent time, pulled out my vibrator and started using it over my chastity belt. And I… came. Lol. Yep, you read that right. I came despite the fact that the vibrator was over the belt, never making direct contact with my clit. I guess I was so horny that the muted vibration of the metal shield got me off. I was left in a stupor, going what the actual fuck just happened.

And then came post cum clarity, and that was NOT fun. The deadening of sexual arousal plus the fact that Master was STILL with someone else and I could do basically nothing to change the situation sucked. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Thankfully, the exhaustion from an orgasm after two weeks of denial set in, and I put an end to my emotional Olympics and fell asleep. The next day was when things started getting a little hairy. Some context is necessary. I’d asked Master to be meaner with me. I didn’t want him to give me an easy out, I wanted him to take away my freedom of choice, to remind me that this was my life now.

And so he did, except he was really mean with me. I guess when I asked Master to be meaner with me, I was referring to quantity rather than quality? I like it when he’s cruel in scene, and I wanted more of that, but I didn’t know that I would hate it quite so much outside of scene, nor that he had the capacity to be that much harsher. Anyway, this was new to me too and we ended up having a really long heart to heart discussion Friday night and also today (Saturday) about what I had actually meant. I’ve never been very good at expressing myself, and when I write, I tend to do so under the haze of arousal, so it was a good lesson to me to be a tonne more explicit and also to temper my requests, taking into consideration how I would feel/react when/if I were not horny.

All in all, this was a good lesson to the both of us and I’m glad we were able to tackle the issue maturely. If anything, we’ve grown from this experience. We’re still on track to continue our current exploration, the boundaries and expectations having been clarified properly. We haven’t played yet since he got back. In France, everything closes on Sunday so we had to run our errands today. We will play tomorrow and I’ve requested for a hard session to get me back in the headspace I crave. I’m looking forward! I guess this is part of the fun of kink… Making mistakes, learning and moving forward. What’s important is that we’ve perfected the art of pausing, taking stock, identifying what needs to be changed/improved, and working together as a team to do so.

A Cuckquean’s Mantra

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

So it is happening. Master matched up with someone on a dating app and they will see each other on Thursday while he is in Paris. She’s young, gorgeous (I’ve seen a picture), tall and fit. She’s very keen on playing with Master and has even offered to host him for the night.

I was a mix of emotions when I saw her picture and realised it was indeed happening. I won’t deny I was am extremely jealous and insecure, but not in a bad way. I’m so excited for Master, I really hope that he will have an amazing time with her. My pussy is dripping just from thinking of them getting together.

Today, I went to the pharmacie downstairs to pick up a pack of condoms for Master. When I presented him with the box of ten, he commented that he wasn’t sure they’d be enough. Knowing Master, he’ll pack a few extra just to be certain. But ten not being enough?! That surely created a little knot of insecurity in my tummy.

I did a little homework which I feel a little shy sharing, but hey, you already know that I’m perverse and depraved as fuck, right? Anyway, to help myself out and ensure my head stays in a good space this Thursday night, I wrote the following which I intend to record myself reading, to listen to on playback while I use the vibrator on my chastity shield, trying futilely to get some pleasure.

Again, this is raw and unfiltered. Do I truly believe everything that I’ve written? No, of course not. My Master loves me unconditionally, I do deserve him, he’s not out of my league. But my little cuckquean brain likes to think so, so I indulge her because it makes me wet. 😉

How does it feel to know that Master is currently in someone else’s arms? How does it feel to know that he will be sharing her bed tonight? How does it feel to know that, conversely, you are home alone – locked up tight in your chastity belt, no end and no pleasure in sight? How does it feel to have known the joy of his cock deep in your pussy, and to know that it is she who will be taking pleasure from him tonight? Worse, how does it feel to know that you will never again get to feel him thrust deep in your pussy and fuck you long and hard, exactly the way he is fucking her tonight?

This is your life now, little piggy. You’re a worthless little cuckquean, a fuck pig whose only known pleasure is taking Master’s cock down your throat and in your ass. Master doesn’t go down on you anymore, why would he want to put his mouth anywhere near your disgusting clit? Neither does he finger you so hard till the point where you squirt. Those orgasms are no longer a part of your life, so why bother stimulating those bits at all?

But you know Master is an amazing lover. You’ve experienced it before. It’s just a pity he will no longer do those things to you, you sad little fuckpig. And why should he, when you’re nothing in his eyes but a cum receptacle when he isn’t fucking better pussy and ass? And it’s on you, you were the one who gave him permission, nay, BEGGED him to see other women, date them fuck them, whatever he pleases. Deep down inside, you know you’re not good enough, you’re not enough, and he deserves better.

It’s already more than you deserve, to be given the privilege of being his wife and taking his name. It’s already more than you deserve to be kept as his houseslave, seeing to his needs at home. You don’t have the right to more than that, neither should you. Master deserves to enjoy younger women, women who are hotter than you are and will ever be, women who can show him a good time and give him the kind of sex and variety he craves. You are not enough. You are not hot enough, not fit enough, not young enough, not enough.

And of course Master should have anybody he wants. Look at him. He’s young, good looking, intelligent and such a charmer. Count yourself lucky he spends most nights with you, little piggy. Count yourself lucky he enjoys degrading and debasing you, using and abusing you. That’s all you’re worthy of, isn’t it? None of the pleasure and orgasms and nice slow touches, it’s always rough with you. He throws you around like you’re a doll, which you are – a fuckpig. He takes pleasure from you, you take what you can get. Pathetic.

Look at the picture of the lady he fucks tonight. Can you even compare? She’s gorgeous. She’s young, tall, with a figure that’s so much better than yours. Sure, you keep yourself in good shape, but have you seen your Master? He’s in another league, piggy, he’s out of your league. And of course he should fuck superior women who deserve him, not you. Imagine how amazing it must look, his body over hers, his cock in her wet pussy. Imagine them kissing, making out. When was the last time he made out with you? You can’t even remember, can you?

So repeat after me, little piggy…

I am pathetic.
I am a pathetic cuckquean.
I don’t deserve to cum, ever.
I don’t deserve Master’s glorious cock in my sad wet needy pussy.
I don’t deserve Master to pay my neglected clit any attention.
In fact, my clit deserves no attention at all, so much so that it’s locked up permanently.
I don’t even get to touch myself.
If I’m lucky, Master let’s me tease myself after he’s used me, but only if I’ve been a good fuck pig.
Touching myself is a privilege, not an entitlement.
Orgasms… Forget about them. I’m lucky I can cum from my ass, if you even consider that cumming. But those are the only types of orgasms I’m allowed, and even those are too good for me. They are a kindness from Master, again, not an entitlement.
I am happy when Master cheats on me.
I am happy when Master finds pleasure in the arms of a better woman.
I am jealous but I know it is right.
I am insecure but I deserve to be.
I am fulfilled when I am cucked.
I am a pathetic little cuckquean.