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Of course he did. He always did.
Naked, kneeling, already hard. Pathetic. Just how she remembered him at the end—needy, emotional, begging her not to leave. And now here he was again, begging in a different way.
The screen lit up.
Her face appeared—his ex-girlfriend. Stunning as ever. Maybe even more radiant now, post-breakup, glowing with that same smug, satisfied smile she always wore after a good fuck. Only now, it wasn’t his touch making her glow. That smile belonged to another man.
"Hi, loser," she said sweetly, voice like silk laced with venom. "Still obsessing over me, huh? Still jacking off to the girl who dumped you for someone better?"
For more Cuckold/Femdom Stories and Part 2 of this Story check out the patreon https://www.patreon.com/SubmissiveStories
He whimpered.
She let out a laugh. “God, you’re so fucking predictable. Always waiting. Always ready. Like a little toy that turns itself on the moment I show my face.”
Her eyes flicked downward—his cock already twitching in anticipation.
“Look at you. Stroking already? I haven’t even started yet. You’re that desperate, huh? Still clinging to the fantasy that I might let you finish? Still hoping I’ll show you an ounce of kindness?”
He moaned.
She leaned closer, voice dropping.
"Let’s get something straight. You’re not here to be loved. You’re not here to be comforted. You’re here because I left you—and you liked it."
He swallowed hard. She was right. The breakup broke him… and it also made him.
"I used to be yours," she whispered. "Remember that? You got to kiss me. Hold me. You got to sleep next to me, tell me you loved me. You had all of me—until I realized you weren't a man."
Her words hit like daggers, each one pushing him closer to the edge.
"You couldn’t satisfy me. You know that, right? All those nights I faked it? All the times I closed my eyes and imagined someone else just to tolerate your sad little thrusts?"
He whimpered.
"But now?" She laughed again, shaking her head. "Now I don’t have to pretend. Now I have him. A real man. Someone who knows how to take what he wants."
She reached for her phone, angling it just briefly—just enough for him to see the blurry image of her thighs—marked, red, used.
"You see those bruises, baby? He gave them to me last night. Bent me over the counter and made me scream so loud the neighbors complained. I told him about you while he fucked me. About how you used to be the one doing that. We laughed. I laughed with his cock inside me."
He let out a helpless groan.
"You wanna stroke faster now, don’t you?"
He nodded.
"Too bad. One stroke every time I say a word. No more, no less. Understand?"
"Y-yes…"
“Good. Now listen carefully. She. Was. Right. To. Leave. You.”
He stroked in slow, aching rhythm—one stroke per word.
“Say it. Say, ‘You were right to leave me.’” He obeyed, voice trembling.
“You bet I was,” she hissed. “You weren’t a boyfriend. You were a training dummy. A warm-up. I only figured out what I really wanted once I met him. And he showed me what a man feels like inside me.”
His breathing grew ragged. She watched him unravel.
"You remember that little whimpery noise I used to make when I was close?" she asked. "You thought that meant I was cumming, didn’t you? You believed that, didn’t you?"
He nodded, miserable.
"I lied. I never came with you. Not once. But he makes me cum with his voice. That’s how much better he is."
He was sweating now. Shaking. So close.
“You wanna cum, don’t you?” she cooed. “You wanna cum to your ex-girlfriend—talking about how much better her new man is?”
“Y-yes… please…”
“Then say his name. Say, ‘Please let me cum to your girlfriend, [his name].’”
He did.
And she smiled.
“…Too bad.”
His heart stopped.
“You don’t get to cum to me. You don’t get to cum to my body. My photos. My voice. You’re done pretending I’m still yours. You’re done owning your memories of me. From now on, he owns them. He owns my body. He owns my pleasure. And he owns your orgasm, too.”
He cried out, twitching.
“No touching,” she said sharply. “Hands behind your back.”
He obeyed.
"You don’t cum tonight. You ache tonight. You kneel and suffer while I go get fucked. Again."
She stood up, turning her back to the camera just long enough for him to catch the faintest glimpse of red lines down her thighs. Her voice floated over her shoulder.
"Close the laptop, loser. And thank me for leaving you."
He whispered, broken: “Thank you for leaving me…”
And the call went black.
For more Cuckold/Femdom Stories and Part 2 of this Story check out the patreon https://www.patreon.com/SubmissiveStories
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