I haven’t slipped up in my porn consumption so there’s no way Hannah had seen my viewing habits. I only use private browsers and never leave anything open. I never downloaded anything either. I would die inside if she saw that I loved cuckold porn. I don’t think she would actually respect me or even want to do that. She was the love of my life. So why did she just call me a cuck? I don’t actually want to be a cuck.
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I have way too much pride to be made a cuck. But I couldn’t deny that I was rock hard in my cage straining and wanting to be set free. There must of been tons of precum. Hannah (mistress) just called me a cuck and referred to my cock as a clitty. What else was she going to do or say? Had she been researching humiliation techniques for me? Where was this coming from?
“Awwwwww. Look who’s all riled up,“ she cooed to me. I had goosebumps and the hair of my arms were standing on end. I craved more pleasure. This name calling was awakening something deeper inside me. But at the same time, I was far too insecure to share my cuckold desires. Hell, I can’t stand humiliation in real life like anyone else. So why here and now?
Mistress leads me to the bedroom. “Strip you cock loving slut!” I did. I didn’t even care what she was saying. I was more turned on than ever. “Get on the bed.” I threw myself eagerly onto the bed. “Actually. Fuck that. On your knees.” Mistress’ wish is my command. But I know Hannah does this to amuse me. Sometimes I feel bad because I know deep down she’d rather be the one being humiliated.
Hannah came more often when I dominated her. It felt slightly weird for me since I had way too many submissive voices in my head. But I loved to satisfy her. She loved to be spanked. She also loved it when I would force my fingers down her throat. But to really get her off, she loved to be name called and choked the most. She would do whatever I say for the rest of the day when I made her cum. When she had to dominate me, it was more work for her satisfaction and so we had a bit of a quid pro quo.
Sometimes I get selfish. Hannah has confronted me in the past about her needs. But I get lost when I get horny and my desire to be humiliated trumps logic. Hannah knows this, so a lot of time I have to put out the day before I get humiliated. But lately, it hasn’t been required as she’s been getting off on risqué actions instead.
I’m privy to this but at the same time I couldn’t care less when I’m on my knees right now. I just want to know what’s next. It has been a week since my last allowed orgasm that happened in that restaurant bathroom. I was fucking struggling and wanted more of that satisfaction. Plus mistress knows to milk me on occasion for prostate health. Her hands were fumbling around her neck. I knew.
She was taking off my chastity key necklace! Finally. I anticipated the sweet release. I felt her cup my balls and insert the key. “Are you really ready sissy?” “Yes mistress.” I was breathing heavier now. That key was everything. It was now unlocking my cage. I felt a drop in my balls and knew I was free. I went to touch myself but I was met with a huge smack on my back. “Fuck no bitch!”
I assumed I could touch myself falsely. “Now for your punishment. You didn’t really think you would just get satisfaction, did you cuck?” Hannah caresses my ass. She then reached over to the sex drawer filled with all of the toys and lube. Then from behind, I was handed a blindfold. “Put this on.” I did and didn’t know what was next. Next thing I know, I felt her softly touching my ass with a micro paddle. I knew I was going to be hurting.
I couldn’t see and this added to the aura during this sex session. My balls were still heavy and my cock was at a half chub. Then I felt it. I screamed louder than expected. I likely even startled her. “Fuck. That hurt! Chill out a bit, please.” Hannah had smacked my balls really hard from behind me and there was a pulsing and aching feeling of both a good and bad variety. “Aw, I’m sorry cucky. I’ll be more gentle. Sorry.” She didn’t really mean it. I was here for it. Her cruelty.
My cock started to grow fully erect. “Oh, look at that. I knew you were exaggerating!” It was an interesting feeling have a full hard on in the bedroom as it was quite cold and so it felt a bit unnatural in the temperature sense. However, a week had gone by and the feeling of being erect without being restrained to my chaste state was a relief. But I didn’t know if I was going to get it or not. Relief. “Mistress, please touch me. Please?” I couldn’t help but beg in this moment.
“Hmmmmm. Do you deserve pain or pleasure though sissy boy?” “Pleasure, mistress.” “Okay,” mistress said before pausing. Thwack! A stinging sensation on my inner thigh had caused me to lurch forward. It was expected overall yet unexpected in location. It created a tizzy in my brain as I could no longer gauge where the pain was coming from immediately after contact. Being blindfolded had added a whole layer to the current power dynamic. This is what I had asked for though. It was what rekindled a formerly sparsely visited bedroom.
Not long before I was in Hannah’s hands a week ago, on my knees, ready to submit wholly, I had only been on the receiving end of the painful pleasure for only about a month. It was a runaway train of pleasure and trust built between her and I. It was a saving grace as well too as we had been dating for almost two years now. But after about three months in, we didn’t really have sex more than once a week. Twice depending on her mood. So this shift in pattern was welcome but nevertheless demanding.
Back in the beginning when we went on our first couple of dates, Hannah and I had so much energy for sex. It was the struggle between finding time for sleep because the dates would last so long and the sex would go multiple rounds. I remember regularly being groggy at work. And I remember how often I was working out to keep up with the cardio demand. Between the time I could have spent eating instead of fucking, I did have a partial six pack for added core strength. It was necessary because my lust for Hannah was insatiable. And I wanted to be the one to impress her with my moves in the bedroom.
Hannah wasn’t my first girlfriend, but my mindset was that aside from the fantastic sex, she was a really well rounded person. She had real longterm potential. She had a good job that paid well. It was regular that we would go dutch on dinner bills. Of course there were the endearing sugar mama jokes to follow. The truth was though that I was secure in my mentality as I frankly didn’t care how much someone makes. I was just happy to be employed.
Aside from being well off, Hannah came from a nice family as well. She had gone to nice private schools and while she eventually became a high end consulting assistant, she was really more privy to the liberal arts. She was a theatre kid at heart. She never cared for her demanding job all that much between her boss and the hours. But she said it was all worth it in the end as the money could be saved for our wedding day and our first mortgage. Her financial savviness was something I appreciated the most about her. I did feel bad though that I felt she wasn’t following her true passion on an artistic level.
Hannah had a myriad of other passions related to the arts, and early on in the dating process, she had a real knack and wantingness for getting into photography. She loves to be out in nature. Many of our early relationship dates consisted of going to the local arboretum to take photos of the local birds and fauna. She had also taken a few editing classes afterwards to make the photos look pristine.
Hannah had also been into magazine editing as well. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have some subscriptions of Vogue and Home Decor out on the coffee table for guests to peruse. She had even been involved in nude photography in the past at some local art studios downtown. This surprised me when she first shared this with me as I couldn’t see her posing nude.
Rest assured, it turns out she was the one taking some photos with her friend’s camera. She said she had a true love for photography and she wanted to reverse the script on nude photography. She had been part of a troupe of women photographers who make up a larger conglomerate of feminist writers. She had gotten her own camera to refine her skills to add the portfolio they had. They primarily shot nude photos of men instead of women as is the norm in many of these spaces.
I asked her to show me some of her work. She initially refused as she didn’t want to expose that side of her. “It’s okay. I promise I won’t judge.” I had to ease her mind and thusly she responded in kind by letting me flip through some prints she had made up. They were, to my surprise, incredibly well done. The angles. The lighting. These men were like paintings. I was a little jealous. I must admit. They looked good.
Many of the men were nude yet not entirely revealing. Some were wearing small articles of clothing just big enough to conceal their package and part of the buttocks. It was art. And from what I could tell, many of the men in the photos were presenting both feminine and masculine traits. Some men looked domineering while others looked as though they were presenting themselves for other men. Much of it read as queer photography to me. This only endeared me to Hannah even more. One thing lead to another.
The conversation turned from photography and media to my opening up to Hannah about my bisexuality. Even though I had never slept with a man before, I still knew these inclinations existed. I had jokingly kissed a few friends before but usually only as a two man effort to secure them a heteronormative date. But unlike conversations I’ve had in the past with girlfriends, this conversation with Hannah was different.
“I kinda always knew this about you,” Hannah stated. “Don’t worry, I don’t think you would run off from me because of that though.” She had read my mind verbatim. I had been rejected in the past for my sexuality as those girlfriends had been wanting more traditionally masculine men. However, with Hannah herself being bisexual and having actually dated other women, her mind was far more open. It only made me more secure in having been dating her and as far as I was concerned, one of my biggest insecurities became one of my greatest strengths.
After having shared that intimate side of me with Hannah, we had exchanged thoughts about monogamous relationship desires while also being open to the idea of sharing our bedroom. I didn’t want to press these ideas immediately as I didn’t want to project feelings of tiredness in our sexual compatibility this early on in the relationship. We had only been dating for about three months at this point. But secretly, I wanted the opportunity to reveal my feminine and submissive tendencies with her. And eventually, whilst enamored by her body in a fugue state during sex, I did. I needed it.