A Peg Goodnight

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When Cuck has a Bad Day

Mr L was due to arrive early that afternoon, but it was pretty apparent my cuck had woke up in a bad mood.  Work related stress and a lack of sleep were leaving him a little short on temper, but like a good cuck, he worked through it as he busied himself getting the house ready.  It’s always a little bit of a downer when my cuck isn’t bubbling with excitement right alongside me as we prep for a visit from one of my lovers.  He dutifully goes about doing all the things expected of him, but the teasing and ribbing that usually goes on is sadly lacking.

As Mr L.’s arrival begins to rapidly approach, a misstep on my cuck’s part is discovered and he doesn’t take it very well.  In that moment I get concerned as to how the afternoon is going to go.  I kneel him down for a quick chat as to what’s going on.  It’s far too late to call off Mr L, so it becomes a decision of whether or not to just sit him in a corner and keep him out of the way or see if he is still capable to serve in his normal capacity.

He insists he is capable of still serving, but I decide we’ll keep even that minimal, at least at first.  There’s the question of the punishment he has coming with Mr L.  I insist he take it, for me.  I knew it would be hard for him, but I also felt we had set a tone and level of expectation with Mr L that I wanted my cuck to understand I expected him to up hold.  I positioned myself at my cuck’s head during said punishment so I could stroke his hair and whisper words of encouragement.  He suffered admirably, but I could still sense the detachment he had in place to make it through.  

Normally, when my cuck is in a bad mood, once my lovers and I get lost in the heat of passion he usually comes around and is more his normal cuckold self.  This day, it took until almost the end before I could sense the shift in him.  As he stepped in to clean us both up, his usual exuberance was starting to shine through.  By the time we were saying our goodbyes at the door, my playful little bitch was back to his normal self.

It’s times like this where I really have learned to appreciate how cuckolding works so well for my boy and I.  When we were first starting out, times like this would make me quick to pull the plug or, if we couldn’t, at least take things down to their minimal levels.  Overtime, my cuck showed me his willingness and ability to see these moments through.  It was hard to come to terms with the idea of seeking out my pleasure when I knew he was suffering in very non-sexy ways.  But he encouraged me to put myself and desires even ahead of his needs in this area, and I began to understand how much he needs this as much as I do.  I’ve cucked him when he was sick, stressed, tired, bad moods, even once on the heels of an argument.  Without fail, he serves to the best of his abilities and never once has it failed to produce a happy, loving cuck when all is said and done.

The Birth of a Contemptuous Bitch

Back when we started, when he first asked if he could be my cuckold, I was pretty adamant that humiliation wasn’t something I’d ever be ok with.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around the notion of being able to treat someone you dearly love with such utter contentment.  I couldn’t see how I could respect a person who would let me do that to him. I mean, I was all about the equity crowd and the cuckolding alone was a bit of a curve, welcomed, but still a curve.

But then, almost from the start, it was kind of fun to put him in embarrassing positions in front of my lovers.  I still remember the first time.  Most of the guys we were playing with were still mostly straight, so we really hadn’t done any forced-bi.  We were also still a little green on our search process.  The gentlemen we had over that night was a great guy with a pretty nice cock… but just kinda lack the right umpf in the bedroom for me.  My cuck already knew this one wasn’t going to work out and had that sheepish look on his face.  I don’t know if it was my frustrations, or that apologetic look on my cucks face that set me off.  I crooked my finger at my cuck, a little push with my hand to bend him over the dresser and I proceeded to spank him while my guest kept right on fucking me.  The essence?  The bitch got punished for my lover being an average kind of lay.  And right in front of the guy to boot.  Now, no words were ever exchanged between my cuck and I that whole time.  But after my guest left for the night, my cuck bent down, kissed my feet and apologized for wasting my time.  I completely melted!

When the forced-bi came along, I realized how excited it made me to taunt my cuck while his mouth was wrapped around my lover’s cock.  Things like making him mumble how much he knew I was going to enjoy fucking it and how much bigger it was then his.  The first time I spit roasted him, I just gushed everywhere.  I think, even back then, I knew my sadism went beyond the physical… it’s just hard to admit to oneself that you really like being a meanie.  I still worried about whether I could respect him after shoving him down that way.  

I remember his reaction the first time I called him my little dick.  He melted into a delicious gooey mess.  I’m pretty sure there was even a tear in his eyes.  It made me swoon just a little.  I’ve dipped my toe a little deeper as we’ve moved along, but more recently, I find I’m getting much more accustomed to the water and really liking it.  Like those moments he gets that pained look in his eyes, it makes me rather lusty.  When he gets all small and vulnerable, all I want to do is tear him up.  When he pouts or whines… I get a little giddy.  I realized then, that yes, I found I actually respected him a little more.

Most of the lover’s I’ve had have not been able to really get in to humiliating my cuck this much.  They all find it hot to watch me kick him around a bit, but never really joined in.  A few would might hurl a couple insults a bit, a few more kinda got off on telling me what to say to him.  But we were struggling to find a good bulls who could really enjoy the entertainment, almost as much as I do.  

But with Mr. L., oh my, did we have fun!  With the others, I’ve always felt I had to hold back a bit to keep them from getting too uncomfortable.  Some men just can’t watch another man get decimated that way.  Mr. L. LOVED IT!  I think when he walked in and barked at my cuck, there’s was kind of a small sigh of relief that washed over me, that I kinda let loose on that sadist in me.  At times, I was a rather mean and vile at him.  To the point that when reflecting on it, I sort of shocked myself.  Oh, don’t get me wrong.  Not for one moment do I regret anything I said or did.  By shocked, I mean that I was shocked that something I was quite adamant about in the beginning of the relationship had been completely thrown out the window.  These days, I can be quite the bully... though I’m usually laughing the entire time I belittle the shit out of him.  

What I find so fascinating is just how turned on it really makes me.  Much like the physical aspects of sadism, the mental just turns my cranks far more than I ever expected.  I still worry a little, in the back of my mind, whether there’s still a point where the respect goes out the window.  But for now, I just love the man even more for not only putting up with my utter contempt at times, but actually adoring me for willing to be so cruel.   It’s still quite amazing how all this stuff really works out.

The Picture

We lounged back on the bed, well spent after a couple hours of primal pounding going on.  We chatted a bit about the game on TV while trying to catch our breathe.  As I traced my fingers along the outline of his chest, my mind couldn’t help but wander back to just a few moments before.  I could feel the twinge in my pussy as I recalled the gut wrenching orgasm he had mercilessly pounded out of me.  I wanted more.  I crooked my finger at my boy and simply pointed down.  

Like a good little bitch, he scampered over to the bed and carefully crawled up between my lover’s legs and took that gorgeous cock gently into his mouth.  With his mouth and lips, he caressed my lover’s cock with every ounce of deference he could summon.  As sexy and sweet as this was… somehow, it just wasn’t fitting my mood at the moment.  Instead I reached down and placed my hand on the back of his head, signaling him to pick up the pace a bit.  True to form, my boy’s head began bobbing in a nice steady rhythm.  I kept my hand on his head just feeling the beat of his rhythm.  Then, at the right moment, I applied just enough pressure to keep his head from coming back up.  All it took was a moment before I could hear the saliva started to build.  A little more pressure and his mouth sunk another half inch lower.  The sound changed into that noisy, gurgling sound that happens right before the gag reflex.  Holding it there, I could feel the tightening between my thighs.  I could tell my lover was getting hard just watching me force my boy’s mouth down on his cock.  I could hear the distress in the gurgling sounds my boy was making.  I let go of his head and watched him gasp for air.

“Dirty little whore”

As he blushed, he quickly got back to work on my lover’s cock.  I reached over and grab the camera.  Steadying it in one hand, I grabbed a fist full of my boy’s hair and held him mid-stroke.

“Nasty little slut, time to show Mama what you’re made of”

I began pumping my hand up and down, slowly speeding up the rhythm as I snapped the camera.

“Now, show Mama what a disgusting little cuck you really are.”

At that, I felt him open up his throat, holding his mouth open as wide as he could.  I began bobbing his head even faster, every so often pushing his head down a little lower and snapping pictures all the while.  Listening to his gagging and gurgling, I could feel my excitement growing out of control.  

“Oh, you nasty, filthy, disgusting little whore.  That’s the grosses sounding Blow job ever.  Wet and sloppy.   You’re making a mess down there, aren’t you?”

A muffled responds and more gurgling noise was all he could muster.  I could see that pained look in his face, the tears welling up in his eyes and yet… the adoration never stopped shining through.  I wanted to remember that look.  That look that I know means he is completely and utterly all mine.  I begin to shove his head even deeper  than before.  Hitting his gag reflex a few times, the first tear started to roll.  I shove him down on that cock, as deep as I could make it go.  His body tightens in panic.

“That’s it bitch, take it in deep.  You’re nothing but a filthy, disgusting little fuck hole.  Good for nothing, but being used and abused. Isn’t that right little bitch?”

And at that moment, I pulled his mouth right up to the tip of my lover’s cock and 

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Snapped the picture.

It's Raining Men!

For Thanksgiving this year, I’m thankful for having such a good bitch who knows how to keep his Mama happy for the entire 4 day weekend.  Poor guy needed nearly 11 hours of sleep to recover and still begged for a two hour nap, once breakfast was done.

Sometimes, when the stars align just right, things just seem to work out so well for me.  This past year has been a little trying on both of us.   It kinda felt like someone had hit the pause button on our lives.  Oh sure, we had fun along the way and we’ve talked about making some shifts in our dynamic.  But things were just so up and down, that it was hard to put much into practice.  But the past month, things have been settling down and we’ve been able to get back into a more steady rhythm to life again.  So with the upcoming, long, holiday weekend… seemed like a good time to kick things off.   What I was to discover was a little magic from a good cuck ensured I would spend the entire weekend happily singing, “It’s raining men!”

Breaking it down

Breaking… honestly, not my favorite term as it sparks images of the military form of “breaking”.  But I can say I notice two distinct states that my boy gets in when we let loose in play. 

The first is what I consider his “subspace”.  It’s kind of a dreamy, semi-detached (or fully detached) state that I equate more to the endorphins rush.  His resistance to what I’m doing diminishes greatly and allows me to take the intensity to a level he normally can’t handle.  Harder hits, longer teases, rougher peggings, etc.  But as soon as play stops, he comes back around to his normal self.

The second is what I would equate to what I think BDSM people refer to as “breaking”.  There are times when we play, that what I say, what I do seems to reach him at such a deeper level that it causes almost a hyper focus on me.  In those moments he will not just take what I’m dishing out, he will literally beg me to do these things.  Things like his soft limits, hard limits and everything else just disappear.  All that’s left is me and my desires, my will.  It’s in these moments I find he is so open that I can create small shifts in his thought process and desires.  

I don’t have to “DO” anything afterwards to put him back together though.   The normal reassurances and aftercare seem to suffice to allow him to pick himself up.  If I do nothing more, he operates at a higher level of devotion then the norm for a couple of days, but will slowly revert back to his “normal” state.  On the other hand, I find that after a play session that gets that intense is the perfect time to make a shift in the way we operate.  He’s more susceptible to accepting a new rule, considering “alternatives”, or changing routines.   I often wonder if we had the time to “create” these moments more often, if I could utterly recondition him entirely.  Of course, the other questions is if I would even want to.  But for now, it's just nice to sit with the possibilities.