No Cucks Given

I’m not sure what happened this week. I started off being very excited about the two cucking sessions that’d been planned. Both took place as scheduled, no surprises there. But what was surprising was my reaction towards both scenes. Let me elaborate.

The first was with Ms S earlier in the week. I couldn’t get into the headspace while caged. I mean, she was hot, the whole setup was hot. But I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to enjoy it. Master and I had a debrief after the session and we reckoned it was probably a combination of it having been a weekday (thus we didn’t have time to prep me before the scene) and me being on my cycle (thus hormonal). The day after, I actually felt tonnes better and I kept getting wet when I thought back on the scene, thus I figured all was well.

Prior to Master’s play date with Ms N yesterday (Saturday), we did some prep work. I proposed to Master some light and relatively comfortable bondage options to put me in while caged, so that I would feel more immersed in the scene. We did a trial run on Friday evening where I spent 90 minutes caged while cuffed in mitts with a vibrating butt plug up my ass. It was delicious. I was so in the headspace and so excited about Ms N coming over.

Fast forward to earlier today. Master did a bit of pre-scene warm up with me, spanking me and ensuring I was in a good space before cuffing and caging me. Just before Ms N arrived, he turned on the butt plug, checked all was good and left the playroom. And everything was good… For about the first 30 minutes. Shortly after, I started getting in my own head and making movies about Master leaving me if I told him I wanted to stop being cucked.

I’m not sure how or why I started spiraling, but spiral I did. I didn’t want to share my husband/Master with anyone anymore, I didn’t want Ms N to drink our good wine (yes, I seriously thought of this and it was making me very upset lol), etc. I got so upset and restless with the entire situation quickly. But I decided to wait it out, let Ms N leave, and then tackle it with Master. I was still worried sick he would blow up at me.

When Master came to release me, he found me sitting in the cage without my collar and cuffs. I’d managed to work them off me (he had attached them loosely on purpose as a safety measure). When he asked if I was alright, I was shaking and asked him to let me out. He did and we then had a good talk. He was super supportive, patient and kind. I felt so stupid for even worrying he would overreact.

The verdict… We’ve decided to take a break from cuckqueaning. Master thinks that cuckqueaning as a kink is extremely difficult for me to process because of how emotionally masochistic it is. I keep getting drawn back to it, but perhaps we need only have such scenes once every few months, rather than every few weeks. Everything else in our dynamic remains constant – the long-term orgasm denial, being anal-only, etc.

I am extremely monogamous, I don’t like sharing Master at all… And it was precisely this that made the kink so deliciously humiliating to me. However, perhaps it is an itch I need scratched only once in a while. So I’m sorry, followers… Particularly to those of you who love my cuckqueaning adventures. Those will be on the backburner for a little while.

Master’s on a date.

I’m locked up in the cage in the playroom right now. It sounds a lot harsher than it actually is. In reality, I have a soft fluffy blanket covering me, air-conditioning in the room, and my cat has decided that the best place to curl up for a nap is in the cage right beside me. Right now, she’s curled up in the nook between my bent legs, her warm ass against my own. Earlier, she was in my arms, her tail beside my face on my small pillow. We’re quite comfortable, really. 

I like the cage. It’s a safe space for me. In it, I feel like I don’t have to make many difficult decisions. All I have to concern myself with are my basic desires – hunger and thirst, the need to relieve myself, entertainment for the bored mind. But the truth is, whenever I’m in the cage, my mind is never bored. It’s usually rushing ahead at 100kmh (or whatever speed a busy mind goes at), thinking of everything and nothing. I also find I write the most when I’m caged. 😉

At this very moment, Master is out with another lady. She’s a potential new play partner and she requested for their first meeting to be a vanilla one outdoors. Entirely reasonable, of course. They’re meeting at a wine restaurant nearby. Master left the house while I was still finishing up a work appointment with a client. My instructions for after work were to clean myself up, have my dinner, and then at no earlier than 9.30pm, lock myself in the cage. And here I am now. 

It’s approximately 10pm now so I expect Master should be home in less than an hour. My cat is fast asleep with her head resting on my ankle. I kinda like this… I feel like a house pet that’s caged itself while its owner is out having fun… Which is entirely what this is, isn’t it. It’s peaceful, I feel at peace. There are no little balls of anxiety swimming in my stomach. I’m just a pet waiting for its Master to get home to tell it about its date. 

Before Master left, he told me that he’d be buying his date dinner using the money I’d earnt. That got me quite excited, thinking about them enjoying dinner and a nice bottle of wine at my expense. Because of the pandemic and the fact that I am quite a decent cook, Master and I don’t go out on such dates that often. I whip up a nice French meal, we buy a very nice bottle of French wine, and we have a very good meal at a fraction of the cost. As a result, I can’t help but feel a little jealous that Master’s having a nice dinner and wine date in a restaurant with someone else. 

I’ve come to realize that cuckqueaning (at least for me) is best enjoyed through the small details. I don’t need a full-on scene where I’m humiliated in front of the other woman, made to serve her, made to watch her fornicate with Master. I quite enjoy being stored away in a cage while Master’s lover comes over, privy only to their laughs and moans. I enjoy the slow rise of jealousy at the mental image of Master having a good time with someone else, the ache of knowing he’s amping up the charm and exuding the particular je ne sais quoi attitude I fell in love with. 

My Foray into Cuckqueaning

I’ve received some questions about cuckqueaning, mainly:
– How did you get into cuckqueaning? (Few women are okay with their husbands fucking other women, and you’re cute!)
– Are you not afraid that your current situation will eventually lead to a divorce? 🥲
– Do you think that all submissives should be cucked?

I’ve decided to write openly about how I came to learn about this kink, how I got turned on to it, the struggles I’ve faced, and why I am now ready to explore it head-on with Master. I hope this helps you understand me a little bit better, and also recognise that my interest in cuckqueaning is self-driven and that it isn’t an agenda Master pushes… at all.


I first got turned on to cuckqueaning with my ex-dom. However, it wasn’t smooth-sailing. You see, I’ve always identified as monogamous. I got together with my ex-dom when I was barely 25. We had already played on several occasions prior to that, and he’d taken me to more than a handful of play parties. He had a huge fixation on play with others, and I was comfortable with us doing so with other couples, but I drew the line at that. This wasn’t enough for him, unfortunately. We had been together for 2 years when he first suggested to me that we include another single female in our play. I was livid. I remember feeling betrayed. He was basically asking me for permission to cheat. I turned him down very strongly.

However, there are a few things about me that he knew he could use to turn me on to his way of thinking – my intense desire to submit and also my penchant for humiliation. He spent an entire year whispering scenes involving another women in my ear as he edged me, and they always featured me being in a position of service to her. I’ve always been a pretty pliable submissive, and it wasn’t long before I found myself thinking and fantasizing about him humiliating me alongside another woman. At the time, neither of us knew the kink was called cuckqueaning. I went online, found a handful of blogs, and discovered that there was a name to it – cuckqueaning.


Of course I devoured the literature. I learnt that, like cuckoldry, it didn’t always have to carry the aspect of humiliation, although it often did. I learnt that often, the scene was a prolonged one, beginning before the dominant headed out the door or before the other woman, also called the cuckcake, arrived. The scene would not end after the dominant and the cuckcake had had their fun. No, there was always a little bit left for the cuckquean, whether it be in the way of an obligatory orgasm, more edging/teasing/humiliation, or even more pain. I was hooked. I’d always identified as being masochistic, and this… this was something new. There was a limit to the pain that could be safely inflicted via impact play, but emotional sadism/masochism was unexplored territory.

My ex-dom and I started exploring cuckqueaning together about 3-4 years into our relationship, but it was a disaster. My ex-dom was not a good dominant. He was always more interested in his own agenda – the pursuit of exciting new experiences. In the context of cuckqueaning, albeit exciting, the focus has to actually be on the foundational coupleship and the cuckquean, NOT the play with the cuckcake. The cucking is a mere tool to reinforce/heighten the dynamic within the coupleship. And even though some pornography might suggest that cuckqueans enjoy being ignored and cast aside, this is only hot within the confines of the scene. Once the scene is over, however, the cuckquean returns to being the primary partner, the loved one. The dominant should never forget, for example, that it is his cuckquean who makes such a lifestyle possible.


My ex-dom wasn’t able to make such an edgy kink work in our dynamic, and it was no wonder. Our personal D/s dynamic was in a terrible state. He’d set up protocol that he’d remember to enforce for a week or two, and then it would be forgotten. He didn’t meet my needs as a sub. Often, we would only play when I was climbing the walls in frustration. You cannot play with the headspace of being rejected when you actually seriously doubt your value in the relationship. I didn’t feel desired in our relationship, and I started to develop real feelings of resentment when I saw him desiring the other women we included in our play.

It didn’t help that there was a tonne of gaslighting. Whenever I tried to stop things, express my discomfort, request that we take a break from cuckqueaning and refocus on our own D/s dynamic, I was made to feel guilty for withholding his shiny new toy. We wouldn’t focus on us. Instead, we wouldn’t play. It quickly became a situation where I had to consent to being cucked in order to even obtain any sort of play. And when we entered the cuckqueaning sessions, it was often with a heavy heart for me, because he never bothered to set me up in the headspace properly prior to the scenes. I’d go through with the scenes because I hadn’t wanted to disappoint him and the other party, and often, we’d have booked nice hotel rooms so there was much at stake. I spent years oscillating between loving the kink (in fantasy) and hating it (in reality).


Anyway, thank god I got out of that relationship (marriage, actually) after 10 long years. My ex-dom caused me to develop anxiety from constantly putting me in situations where I was uncomfortable and unhappy. When I got together with my Master, I was pretty broken. He spent the first year of our time together putting me back together again – my self-confidence, self-esteem, self-worth… All of that was pretty much in shambles due to my ex. He pushed me to seek therapy when it became clear he wasn’t able to help me work through my anxiety on his own. About a year ago, I shared with Master my interest in cuckqueaning and suggested to him that we explore it together. He was very curious to understand what I liked about it, and certainly he got excited at the prospect, but he assured me that my happiness was his priority and he did not need or even want to fuck anyone else to be fulfilled in our relationship.

The first few times were very light, such as what I documented in my piece “The Shy Cuckcake”. And honestly, it didn’t start out being easy. After every session, I’d get hit with the familiar wave of anxiety and I’d want it to stop. But the difference (between now and then) was that we would. Master would immediately get off the dating apps, stop communications with the women, refocus his energies on me and me alone. We’d share months of unbridled passion just playing hard with each other, building our then D/s dynamic. I have never felt undesired by Master. We play daily, and it is plain to see that he adores me.

I guess it was a combination of me learning that I could trust Master unconditionally, recognising that he isn’t cucking me for his own gains, understanding that his priority is and always will be me that made me decide to foray into the kink for real. So yes, I know that I’m gorgeous and I know that in his eyes, there’s only me. My pursuit of cuckqueaning doesn’t come from a place of deep-seated self-loathing, or anything of that nature. I simply love the objectification and humiliation that, for some reason, I can only derive from being cucked. We still navigate those scenes cautiously. In the haze of my arousal, I have often requested that he see other women more frequently, treat me more carelessly, etc, but he never has.


So, do I ever worry that my situation will eventually lead to divorce? No. I’ve been through one failed marriage before and I can say with absolute confidence that this one is good. Master is consistent, reliable and loves me with ALL his heart. In our time together, he has never made a decision that does not prioritise me and my needs. He is protective, possessive and has never put in a situation in which I feel forced into doing anything. This is the man I see myself growing old with happily, devoting my love and service to for time eternal.

Do I think that all submissives should be cucked? Hell, no. I know other fulfilled D/s and M/s couples who are monogamous and do not practise cuckqueaning in any form. It’s my kink, not a universal ingredient to submission. In my case, I find it draws out my submission like no other kink can, but for others, this might be simply through service, being used, etc. D/s and M/s looks different for everyone; it’s taken me more than a decade to figure out what works for me, and this is it. But again, this is just ONE aspect of my dynamic. There’s so much more behind the scenes, such as what I shared in my piece about our protocols.

Whew, that is one long wall of text. I truly hope you found this informative. Thank you for the questions, those who asked them. There are no stupid questions as I know that what we do is pretty novel to many. I’m here to share, dissect and hopefully educate.


Playing Second Fiddle

Photo by Ryan Miguel Capili on

Yesterday was quite something. Ms N arrived just after lunch, and as promised, I was nowhere to be seen. I was safely locked up in the steel cage we keep in our spare room along with the drying laundry and other odds and ends. Suffice it to say I felt very much like a piece of property that Master stowed away to make our home more welcoming for his lover. I had some creature comforts, but not much. I had water, two apples (in case I got hungry), my iPad (but without wifi as it was solely for me to write on), diapers and pee pads (very important necessities), and a blanket (in case I got cold). And of course, I was wearing my chastity belt, as I have been 24/7 since it first went on, ensuring there would be no touching or edging or any such fun. I was to stay as silent as possible so that they would not hear me, like furniture.

From the confines of the cage, I couldn’t hear everything that went on. I couldn’t hear the topics of their conversation, for example, but I could hear their laughter. I could tell when they were making out for the talking would cease. I could tell when Ms N was enjoying herself, for she would moan quite loudly in pleasure. I’m not sure if she was doing so for my benefit, but I like to think she was. Or maybe she’s just loud. I could hear Master spanking her, I could hear her laugh as she started to process it, then moan as it became more pleasurable. And oh, I could hear whenever either of them came. Ms N’s moans would increase gradually in volume and frequency, until they reached a nice high pitch, and then an audible sigh of contentment as she reached her orgasm. And Master made her orgasm plenty of times. I could also tell whenever Master came. His thrusts would increase in rhythm and intensity until he would groan and cum. And then they would giggle a little and I’d hear the sounds of kissing, a condom being pulled off and disposed.

Over the span of three hours, Master came five times. I am pretty sure he did that on purpose. The last time Ms N came over, he came four times, the maximum number of times he’s ever cum with me in one session. This time, I think he wanted to make sure that he could rub it in my face that she’d brought him to five orgasms – one more than I have ever been able to do. Well, it worked. I felt quite worthless and replaced, sitting in that small cage listening to him find immense pleasure in the body of another woman.

I wrote Master a letter while I sat in that cage. He had wanted me to write about my headspace – what I was thinking, what I was feeling – throughout my time in the cage. I will share some pertinent observations. This time was very different was the last. The last time Ms N came over, I was not wearing a chastity belt. I had a vibrator with which I was allowed to tease myself, but not edge. I was allowed to use it on the lowest setting and it offered a lot of distraction. This time, however, the idea was to minimise the distraction, thus no touching, just one hundred percent focus on them.

The biggest difference I observed was that the first time, I was motivated by my own arousal. I was almost impatient for Ms N to leave because I knew that once she had, I would get to enjoy an orgasm myself. That was the set-up I had with Master then… I was on long-term orgasm denial, but I was allowed an orgasm whenever I was cucked. It sounded hot, but in reality, the orgasm at the end of the scene pushed me right out of the headspace and into a very emotional zone of self-doubt and insecurity. This time, I was motivated solely by my submission. I knew there was nothing waiting for me after Ms N left… no edging, no orgasm, nothing. I had requested for such scenes to be normalised; I wanted to truly feel like a slave/piece of property. There shouldn’t be a reward waiting for me when being cast aside to make space for another woman was an expectation.

After Ms N left, Master released me and sent me to clean myself up before giving me Ms N’s unfinished glass of wine to drink. That was my reward for the time spent in the cage – her leftovers. Master showed me the mess she had made on the bed, specifically on my side where she’d squirted and left a small stain. He told me she’d lain on my side so that I’d be able to smell her when I slept at night. He told me that he’d had a lot of fun with her, he liked her very much, particularly because of how chill and easy she was as a person. He also really liked her body, which is built very differently from mine. Ms N is a fair bit taller, has very large tits, and is extremely curvy. He told me he would likely start to see her more regularly, because she was easy-going as a partner, respectful of our dynamic, and not in any way imposing on his time/attention. I think she’s the perfect cuckcake.

After that, we ordered in, ate our dinner while watching our favourite sitcom on television. I liked how our lives went back to normalcy, it cemented again the fact that such afternoons were going to happen again and again, and that I should get very used to spending hours in the cage whenever they did. I did not anticipate, however, experiencing a pretty intense sub-drop after dinner. Master had plugged in to his usual computer game, and I’d gone off to my desk to surf social media and do some work. The jealousy started creeping in, and I was surprised to note that it wasn’t because Master had fucked someone else, but because someone else had received so many hours of his undivided attention in play. It’s not that we haven’t been playing. We play plenty, but it is true that we seldom set aside a whole afternoon to indulge. And I guess I started feeling a tad neglected. I might not have handled this very well, insisting that we have a little bit of playtime before bed, but Master was up to it and agreed.

The scene started with him making me stand against the wall with my hands on the wall slightly above head level. He blindfolded me and then started to use a leather paddle on me. He hit me all over with it, on the butt, the backs of my legs, my tummy, my tits, even the sides of my arms. And then he started reprimanding me for making demands of him, and asked me if it was because I was feeling jealous. I admitted that yes, it hurt inside and I needed it to hurt on the outside as well to make it better. He seemed to understand what I needed and continued to give me a hefty amount of pain. And then the kicker – “From now on, Ms N will get all the pleasure and orgasms, while you will only get the pain and punishment.” I felt a surge of emotion – jealousy gave way to sadness, growing into a small ball of anger before turning into resignation. Yes, this is what I had asked for, wasn’t it? Perhaps Master sensed my uncertainty for he followed up by planting a kiss on the back of my head and whispering an “I love you” in my ear. He reminded me that I had a safe word, but I didn’t need to use it. He was right – Ms N could have the orgasms. Me, I wanted the pain. It made me feel so much more alive than orgasms ever did. And hurt me he did.

When I’d taken what he deemed to be enough pain (I can’t tell as I was happily spacing by then and would have happily taken a lot more), he threw me on the bed and pounded my ass. His cock was not as hard as it usually was, and I knew it was because it was probably numb from having already orgasmed five times. It also took him a lot longer to cum, seeing as it was his sixth orgasm of the day. In my depraved mind, I kinda liked that he was performing with slightly less vigour with me after having fucked Ms N. It turned me on to know I was getting her ‘sloppy seconds’, that she’d drained my man so he would only have a tiny drop of cum left for me.

And as we lay in bed after, Master gave me 30 seconds to rub my clit with my fingers. This has always been an exercise in futility, considering that I’d been hooked to vibrators for years. However, and most surprising to the both of us, I managed to edge with just my fingers not once, but twice! That was how aroused the entire scene had made me. I didn’t get to cum, of course. Those aren’t for little cuckquean piggies like me, and Master locked me back up in the chastity belt so I wouldn’t have any fantasies of what I didn’t deserve.

She’s more important than me.

Photo by Sinitta Leunen on

Yesterday, I told Master that I wanted us to properly revive our cuckquean dynamic. I haven’t been properly cucked since February, when Master met Ms N. For a while after, I rejected the kink, believing I was done with it. And then it started creeping back in my fantasies. I read about it, wrote about it, fantasized about it, but I didn’t quite dare to bring it up to Master because I knew that I had cock blocked him from scheduling a second date with Ms N. I don’t even know why I felt that way. That scene was so hot. I heard them fuck multiple times from the confines of the playroom (she hadn’t wanted to meet me, but was ok with me being behind closed doors), I loved the way she moaned and came. It was sensational. But after, if I’m being honest, I felt that Master was too nice to me. I know that he meant well, coming to check in on me after the scene. But the thing is, in my mind the scene hadn’t ended.

If I could rewrite history, I wouldn’t have wanted to just go clean up, cum and debrief. Again, I KNOW this is not Master’s fault. I specifically requested that I be allowed to cum whenever cucked, but I didn’t realise how quickly that would kill my headspace. In hindsight, I really wanted to have my face rubbed in what had just taken place… For Master to kiss me with the lips he’d just used to kiss another woman, to make me suck clean his cock that had just been in another woman’s pussy, to push my face into the parts of the bed that she’d lain in/wet, to tell me how tight her pussy was and how she’d made him cum 4 times, and to get me to recall the last time I was able to do that with my pussy – never. I guess I looked very sorry for myself when he came to release me after the session, but I always have that face whenever I’m enjoying myself. And I think I was more embarrassed about being in a pair of piss soaked diapers than anything else. 😂 (Don’t judge. There was no attached bathroom in the room I was restricted to and diapers are kinky and handy!)

Anyway, Master quickly moved into action and it looks like Ms N will be coming over tomorrow afternoon! I will, again, be confined to the playroom, but this time, I’ll be caged. We managed to procure a nice steel cage that Master occasionally enjoys locking me in. Last time Ms N was over, I had a vibrator that I was allowed to use on myself on low. I wasn’t allowed to edge, but it was a nice distraction. Tomorrow, I’ll be in my chastity belt, no vibrator. Well, even if I had one, it’s not like it would be of any use to me. Last time, I was also permitted to hold on to my mobile phone, so I would say the time passed pretty quickly as I was busy surfing social media half the time. Tomorrow, Master will be confiscating my mobile phone. I’ll be allowed to have my iPad with me, but it doesn’t have a SIM card and he’ll be kicking me off the WiFi. I’m supposed to use it only to pen my thoughts throughout the experience. I foresee that it is going to be a lot more challenging this time… no entertainment, no stretching out my legs. I really will have nothing else to do but listen to them fuck and feel very very sorry for myself… which is, I guess, the entire point.

I spent the better half of today preparing for tomorrow. I changed the sheets, cleaned the house, tidied up all the surfaces. Heck, I even baked an apple tart so that Master can offer Ms N a slice after their romp. Master asked me to place a bottle of wine and two glasses on the dining table so he can enjoy it with Ms N. I did so, offering up the wine that I’d previously ordered to enjoy with Master. Master said that he might offer me a glass if there’s any left, but only after he’s spit in it. He wanted me to drink wine with a taste of Ms N’s pussy juice in it. That immediately got my mind running, trying to remember the last time Master had eaten me out. I voiced my thoughts to him, and he replied that he too could not recall. Not that it mattered though, a piggy like me doesn’t deserve to be eaten out by Master. That’s solely reserved for better women, like Ms N. I also spent 2 hours in the cage today, in a bid to build up my endurance for tomorrow, where I’ll be locked in for no shorter than 3 hours.

If I had to choose, I’d say that the toughest part of today was hearing Master say that he wouldn’t be using my ass tonight, as he wanted to save himself for Ms N. “She is more important than you,” Master had said. My heart sank a little, but my pussy dripped even more. Master had been fucking my ass nightly ever since the chastity belt went on. Even though I had no access to my clit and pussy, I really really looked forward to the anal orgasms. Knowing that I wouldn’t even be able to have them tonight, because Master fully intends to go multiple times with Ms N tomorrow… that sucks. But at the same time, that’s part of my reality now, and something I want/need to embrace. When Master has the opportunity to fuck a better woman, he’s going to want to make the most of his time with her, even if it means ignoring his piggy for a night. I will find other ways to serve Master tonight, be it with a massage or a foot rub. The desire to be of service to Master is immense, and if I can’t be a good anal slut for him tonight, then I’ll be useful in other ways.

The Reawakening of Desire

Photo by Alexis Fauvet on Unsplash

Hello again. I think it is high time that I revive this blog. It’s been more than a year since I started this blog with the objective of making journaling a habit. Yikes, that didn’t quite take off, now did it? Anyway, over the course of the past year that I haven’t written, we had a handful of playdates with other women. A few were cognizant that I was Master’s cuckquean and were able to play their role of cuckcake to differing degrees. The rest, I joined Master in co-dominating.

And then, of course, the pandemic happened and meeting other people for anything, much less play, became impossible at worst, unadvisable at best. We took time off cuckqueaning, spending our newfound shared time at home exploring our other kinks. However, and rather unfortunately, because of how much time we were spending together in the same space, we got too comfortable with each other and the D/s slowly disappeared. We’d still have very kinky sex, but we didn’t play as much and all the rules and protocol that were previously in place, vanished.

A few times over the months, Master asked me to think about our D/s dynamic – where it stood and where I saw it going. It took me months to find an answer, but I finally had one. I shared with Master that I didn’t think I qualified as a slave because (1) I don’t enjoy service unless I know I am getting something out of it; (2) I have trouble following rules and protocol unless I am sexually motivated. I confirmed that my main mental kinks are orgasm denial and humiliation, and my main physical kinks are anal play and pain play. I ended off by confirming that my ideal D/s role was that of the denied and humiliated cuckquean, and while I was submissive by nature, I was more of a brat by design.

And, that’s when I decided to go all in and shake up my cozy little existence. In a bid for us to return to doing what truly fulfils me, I asked Master to please make me a cuckquean… a properly humiliated one. I believe that this was equal parts impulse and readiness. Yes, it was probably impulsive in that I’m currently at the tail end of my period and horny as fuck. I’m always extremely suggestible at this time of each month, so what seems like a great idea right now has a high chance of being just a tolerable one later. However, that being said, I also strongly believe that I am (finally) ready for this. 

I asked him to start meeting and fucking other women… on his own. This is a pretty big step for me because I used to struggle so badly with separation anxiety when I was with my ex-husband/dominant. I still remember absolutely losing my shit while he was getting ready to go meet some woman. He didn’t give me much say in the matter. He’d just informed me that he’d like to go on a date with this woman and I was expected to suck it up and be ok with it.

With Master, it’s so different. I think the main difference stems from me knowing that he actually wants and prioritises spending time with me. That never used to be the case with the ex. For most of my marriage to that man, I constantly felt like I was holding him back from doing things and meeting people. Master and I have been married for close to six months now, and we dated for a year prior to that. I’m amazed at how little I have struggled with jealousy. It’s actually pretty ironic because Master has actually been fucking other women in the time we’ve been together. I know he uses tinder and I know he has conversations with women he finds interesting. However, I’ve never felt the same pang of anxiety or jealousy that I used to with the ex. 

I feel like I am finally ready to make real my constant fantasy of being a cuckquean. With regards to Master going out with other women, I want to be a good cuck who does everything from making the restaurant reservation for him and his date, to tidying and preparing our home for them to enjoy, to begging to please be allowed to pay for their dinner, drinks and transport, all in exchange for the privilege of being allowed to hear all about his date while sucking his cock right after. It’ll be so hot if I’m allowed to edge while hearing about her laughing at his jokes, flirting with him, etc. 

In my fantasy, while he’s out at a nice restaurant wining and dining her, I’ll be home stretching out my ass-pussy and (maybe if he allows) teasing my horny clit. And then when they are home and fucking, I would love to be allowed to lock myself in the playroom, cuffed and diapered, not making a single sound. But I recognise this might be difficult and also kind of an asshole move towards the other woman who thinks the apartment is empty. So, the other option is that I leave the apartment and go wait somewhere close-by instead, like a budget hotel. That will be quite humiliating to be kicked out of my house so that Master can fuck someone else in it. 

I also begged Master also to please keep me on a strict regime of orgasm denial and abject humiliation. I really savour being kept a denied and humiliated cuckquean. To be more specific, I begged Master to make me anal-only. I can cum from anal sex, but these orgasms are nowhere as satisfying as pussy or clitoral orgasms. I don’t think I should be allowed pussy orgasms at all. There has to be some sort of distinction between the cuck and the other women who Master fucks. And well, if I’m being honest, I feel that I can live without pussy orgasms indefinitely, even forever. They’re nice, but not mind blowing, and they serve the fantasy so much better if they are nonexistent. 

I like the narrative of my pussy being so sloppy (which is actually very true if I’m kept on denial) that it cannot bring Master any satisfaction when fucking it. I know this is not entirely true, but it’s been proven in the past that whenever Master had to fuck my pussy rather than my ass, he wasn’t as turned on and he took much longer to cum. So, I think it is only appropriate that Master shouldn’t have to use my pussy at all, especially if he has other pussy to fuck. The only time he would probably need to put his cock in my worthless pussy is when he’s trying to breed me, but this is only 1-2 days a month, and I will beg him to use my other holes to get close and then to slide in my pussy when he’s ready to cum. (We’ve done this before and it was insanely hot to feel him thrust in my pussy for just a handful of times to reach orgasm. It really made me feel like a cum receptacle… And I loved it!!!)

As for my clit… This is a tough one. I love clit orgasms. Love love love them. They feel amazing, and actually are very helpful during periods when I am stressed or anxious. However, I also recognize that when I am allowed to cum often, I don’t feel submissive at all. For this reason, I realize that it is mandatory for Master to very strictly control my orgasms if I am to successfully embrace cuckqueaning. I do want to be permitted to edge because I know I need to do so in order to remain horny, but I begged Master to only allow me proper clit orgasms when Master gets pussy that’s not mine. The idea of tying my orgasms to Master cucking me is to rewire my brain to associate the two, so even if I’m jealous, I’ll still beg him to please enjoy other pussy. Also, I really want to internalize the rule that Master’s pleasure comes first, and mine doesn’t matter. 

So, in summary, I want to really be a denied and humiliated cuckquean… Master’s anal-only piggy cuck. I want to never have a pussy orgasm again, and to live for those few thrusts when he breeds me, imagining how lovely it would feel if he would just fuck my pussy longer… how lovely it must feel for all the other women he fucks. I want to feel so small in comparison… his worthless little piggy who only gets used for his pleasure. To be reminded that if we so succeed in getting pregnant, I will never have reason to have his cock in my pussy again, except perhaps pity or when he’s bored. Oh lord. I want to support his liaisons with other women, from financing his dates to accommodating their use of our home for sex. And I want to be made to beg for the privilege of doing so.

It embarrasses me that this is what I want for myself because it is so much the opposite of what I’ve been taught to believe I need. But I need this. I know that now.

Piggy Gets Cucked (Erotica)

Photo by Kinky Kusco on Unsplash

The padlocks clinked loudly as they snapped into place, cementing my fate. I had no idea how long the wait would be this time. I ran through the list of instructions that Master had given me earlier that morning.

Master had instructed me to prepare a dinner for two, not unlike any other day. He had chosen to specify the type of meat (chicken), but had otherwise given me free reign with regards to its preparation style. I’d put together a simple meal of baked chicken with asparagus on the side. A bottle of white wine was chilling in the refrigerator, as per Master’s instructions, and the table was set for two. The air-conditioning was turned up to a comfortable temperature, and the lights had been dimmed so the house appeared cozy and inviting. I wondered whether I would be allowed to eat at the table that night, perhaps in celebration of something, or just Master’s attempt at romance.

I wore my play collar locked firmly around my neck and a set of matching cuffs on my wrists and ankles. I also wore a large metal plug in my ass and a nose-hook that was connected to the D-ring at the back of my collar. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but gave me a pig-like appearance, something Master seemed to find very cute and humiliating, in equal degrees. The draft from the air-conditioning wasn’t chilly, but it was cold enough to keep my skin cool. Thank God for modern technologies. I curled up into as comfortable a position I could get and began to let my mind wander. It was a Friday so I knew Master would be up for some play. That thought coupled with the plug in my ass made me an extremely eager piggy. I simply could not wait for Master to get home.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the front door. I quickly got on my knees in front of the door, the position that Master expected me to be in when he got home. I heard the key turn in the lock and the door swing open. However, something was amiss. I thought I heard Master talking to someone, and there it was… the sound of female laughter. Master was not alone. The sound of high heels stepping through the doorway told me what I needed to know. When the door swung open, I caught a glimpse of a pretty face with eyes as startled as mine.

“Remove my shoes, Piggy,” Master called. I crawled over to his feet. Master stepped a foot forward slightly, and I immediately aided him in removing first one, then the other, shoe. “Ask my guest if she needs help with her heels, Piggy.” I heard her slight intake of breath and felt even more humiliated to know that she was embarrassed for me. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and I knew my face was likely to be red. Yet, I swallowed my pride and turned so I was facing her.

“Please Miss, may I help you to remove your shoes?” I could feel that my wetness had begun to snake a trail down my inner thigh. The thought of what was to come both thrilled and scared me. She fell silent for a while, gave a nervous laugh and stuck out a foot with an amused “yes”. I carefully removed her shoes and placed them neatly next to Master’s. With that, the two of them strode into the living room and eased themselves into the sofa.

“Good Piggy. Go prepare dinner for us. Call for me when it’s ready,” Master instructed. I nodded and headed to the kitchen. From the kitchen, I could see the two of them cozying up with each other on the sofa. She had long wavy hair, just as Master liked. She seemed to be pretty petite in size, and I wondered if Master thought me fat in comparison to her. She had a pretty face – big eyes, very kissable lips which Master had wasted no time in getting acquainted with. While I prepared dinner, I felt myself get more and more nervous at the thought of what was to come. Finally, I was done. I took a deep breath and called out to Master.

“Piggy, I want you under the table sucking my cock while I eat. I don’t want you to suck too hard, just keep me in your mouth so I’m ready for dessert.” Master gave a chuckle as he finished his sentence. I didn’t think his joke was all that funny, but apparently she did. She had broken into a peal of laughter. I kept a poker face, got under the table, unzipped Master and took his cock into my mouth. It was already semi-hard when I got it out. Master was evidently excited about cucking me. My telltale wetness betrayed my own excitement.

The two of them talked over me as though I was not there. They spoke about their likes, dislikes, laughed over some jokes and discussed about me. She was very interested in our relationship, and Master had a lot of fun telling her how I got off on being humiliated and degraded. He told her that I really enjoyed watching him fuck other women because it reinforced that I was his piggy cuckquean slave. He told her that he only fucked me in the ass, and I was only allowed to orgasm from anal sex. I had not had a single pussy or clit orgasm in ages. She gasped at this piece of information. He encouraged her to add to my humiliation, joining him in calling me names and in making me serve her. He even told her that if all went well, she could use me as her own personal slave too, making me carry her parcels while she shopped, making me wear only the clothes that she had thrown out. He had so many ideas I felt my heart beat faster and faster from the fear that they could become reality.

Finally, they were done with dinner. Master told me to bring my bowl to him and he emptied both their leftovers into it. I begged for permission to please eat their leftovers. I grovelled as Master liked me to do, and he placed the bowl on the floor, chuckling evilly at my humiliation. It was different when someone else was around. I never felt more embarrassed as I did eating from the bowl without the use of my hands. When I was done, Master wiped off my face with a wet tissue and then dragged me to the bedroom by my hair. She had already walked ahead of us. Eager beaver, I thought to myself.

Here’s where it got interesting. Positioning me in a corner of our bedroom facing the wall, Master removed the metal butt plug from my ass and handed me one of our larger sized dildos. “I want you to fuck yourself in the ass with the dildo and think about how it’s the only type of pleasure you’re allowed to experience. Try and imagine that it’s your pussy being fucked, Piggy,” I moaned as his words rang through my consciousness, my lips opened slightly and I felt the pressure of a gag against them. “I want you to drool. I know it makes you feel humiliated. I want to humiliate you in front of her, so you know without a doubt that you are beneath her.” Next, he locked both my ankles to opposite ends of a spreader bar so I could not close my legs. “I want you to stand right here. Do not look. You don’t deserve to watch. You only get to hear me fuck her. I love you, Piggy, and I’m cucking you right now.”

Master stepped away, and I heard him join her in bed. A laugh, a gasp, a moan. I imagined his fingers trailing along the length of her body, arousing her till she gasped and flushed in need, the way he often did with me. As I heard him enter her, I felt somewhat removed from what was taking place, and yet I felt somewhat peaceful. We’d talked about this happening so often that my mind had somehow sidestepped the emotional barrage that I had expected. My owner was cucking me, and I loved it. I loved that he was enjoying another woman’s flesh. I loved hearing him thrust in and out of her and hearing her moan with every thrust. Master was never more desirable to me than in that moment when he was in another woman. She enjoyed at least five good orgasms before Master finally came in her, the both of them gasping for breath.

“Come here, Piggy,” Master beckoned. It took a while for me to hobble over to them, but I eventually made it. Master removed the condom from around his cock and I immediately knew what I had to do. I fell to my knees and cupped my hands while he emptied the condom into my palms. I asked for permission to lick up his cum and he nodded. I greedily licked up whatever was in my hands, then looked up at Master expectantly. Master grabbed my hair, pushed my face into her pussy, and said, “Clean her up, Piggy. Make sure you do a good job. Lick her well and see if you can make her cum again.

I got to work eating her pussy. I hadn’t eaten a lot of pussy before, so I could only pray that I was doing it right. I managed to clean her up, but I just could not get her to orgasm. Master pulled my face out of her pussy by my hair and started slapping me on my face and tits.

“You’re useless, Piggy. You’re not good enough to fuck, and you don’t know how to eat pussy either? What use are you?” If I thought eating out of a bowl was humiliating, this was so much worse. I felt tears forming in my eyes at Master’s words. As I cried, Master told me to stand in position and proceeded to cane my ass. He even let her deliver a few swings. When he was done, he was hard again and he left me on the floor while he went over to fuck her again. This time, I got to watch. I watched them fuck like animals on the bed, our bed.

Master didn’t finish in her this time. After she had had enough, he had me clean the two of them up one last time with my tongue. We all laid in bed for a while, talking and laughing about the scene that had just taken place. It was getting late, so she got dressed and let herself out. Master held me tightly in his arms and covered my face and neck with plentiful kisses.

“I love you, Piggy.”

“I love you too, Master.”

Master reached down between my thighs and laughed when he felt how engorged my clit was and how much juice my pussy had produced. His laugh quickly lowered into a growl as he pushed me on my back and eased himself into my ass. He fucked me long and hard in the ass, bringing me to anal orgasm after anal orgasm. Yes, I didn’t get to cum from the clit nor pussy anymore, but this was pretty good too.

After Master’s second orgasm of the night, we curled up in bed, engaging in pillow talk till I fell asleep, but not before Master reminded me that in future, I would be sleeping on the floor whenever any of his “girlfriends” came over. They would have my place on the bed.

The Shy Cuckcake

Photo by Ivan Aleksic on Unsplash

Some months ago, shortly after I’d moved in with Master, he had a playdate with a play partner he had met on fetlife whom I shall call Y. Y was very new to kink, and they’d played once or twice before. She knew about the nature of our relationship, and that I enjoyed the knowledge that he had sex with other women. This was the first playdate that I’d be around for, or at least in the same house. She was very shy and didn’t want to meet me in person. Master agreed that she wouldn’t have to. I’d be in the second bedroom that we used as an entertainment room for the entire duration of her visit. I was tasked to write about whatever happened, as far as I could see and hear, in real time. The following is what I came up with…

Master has gone down to pick up Y whom he will be playing with and fucking tonight in place of me. I am quite excited because although they have played before, this is the first time that I am at home while she is here. I have been confined to the entertainment room and told not to leave it under any circumstances. It is quite unnerving to know that there will be another woman in the house with me, but that we will never see each other. It is humiliating that I have to stay hidden to avoid making her uncomfortable. Master has reminded me that tonight is about Y’s and his pleasure, not mine.

The front door has opened, meaning that Master is back with Y. I know to expect a knock on the door – a signal that she is now well and truly in the house. Not a minute later, I hear it. Shortly after, Master enters the room to give me my first task – I am to fold Y’s clothes neatly. They will judge how well I have done at the end when Master comes into the room I am in to pick up the stack of folded clothes for her. While we are talking, I can hear the sounds of her taking a shower.

Master reenters the mancave with Y’s clothes. The first thing I notice about them is how nice they smell. The scent is not strong enough to be perfume, so it is likely the type of detergent she uses at home. It is floral but not overpowering. As I lay them out to fold them up neatly, I can detect a hint of her. These are clothes she has been in for an entire work day and there is a faint mix of perspiration in her blouse, and a slightly stronger musky scent in her lacy black thong – Calvin Klein… very nice.

Master surprises me by letting me know that Y is feeling playful and has agreed to allow me to take a quick peek at her in the bedroom. He holds my hand and leads me into the bedroom. I am not sure what to expect but my breath catches in my throat when I see her. She is lying on the bed with her head off the edge and her legs pointing towards the door. This is to prevent me from seeing her face. I am inwardly relieved because I don’t want her to see me either. Somehow, that will be even more humiliating. Master has tied both her legs in futomomos and her hands are cuffed together in front of her. He spread her legs so I can see her sex. As he does that, she gives a lovely little gasp. I can’t help biting my lip when I see just how lovely she is in person. Master sends me back to the entertainment room and returns to the bedroom.

The walls are pretty thick, but I soon hear the sound of moaning. It sounds like Y is being pleasured by Master. Shortly after, I think I can hear the sound of Master fucking her, but I can’t be sure. I feel terribly turned on knowing that Master is taking another woman in the next room. I also feel extremely frustrated that I haven’t permission to touch myself and relieve the ache between my thighs. The towel I have been sitting on feels slick with my juices. I can smell my arousal. I keep thinking about Master fucking Y in the pussy in the next room. My pussy feels empty and very needy.

I hear Master cum. I wonder how it feels for him, shooting his load into Y’s pussy while I am just next door. It must be quite the power trip. The door to the mancave opens and Master enters, still panting from having just cum. The condom still hangs from his cock, full of his cum. I don’t need a reminder of what I am to do. I gently slide it off his cock, clean his cock with my mouth, then empty his cum onto my palm and lick it up. It has been a while since I’ve eaten Master’s cum. It tastes really nice. He returns to the bedroom and I hear a fair bit more moaning. He is probably fingering her and making her cum over and over again. This fills me with a pinch of envy. I know my aching clit and pussy will probably not be cumming tonight or any time soon.

I am surprised that I don’t feel any jealousy towards Y, only excitement that Master is enjoying himself with her. Still, I cannot wait for her to leave so that I can cuddle with him and read to him what I have written.

She didn’t overstay her welcome, leaving shortly after they were done. I snuggled in bed with Master and read my writing out loud to him. We debriefed the session in great detail. Master is always very careful to ensure that I am in a good space mentally and emotionally, and I was. I’m penning this almost four months after the event so I can’t quite recall whether we fucked, but knowing me and Master, we probably did. And this, dear reader, is a recount of the very first cuckqueaning scene Master and I had, where all three of us – Master, me and the cuckcake – were together. There have been others, and there will be plenty more, I am sure.