Embracing my perversion

Complicatedly vers: mostly sub yet can get a dominant and sadistic streak with the right boy. I've developed a particular interst in cuckolding scenarios and have been lucky enough to have some real-life experience. None of the photos or videos are mine; let me know if you want me to remove your content. No minors, please!

While you're here, check out my long, multi-chapter stories. Here's the index. Shorter story captions are tagged #story. I am in the process of editing and backing up my multi-chapter stories to literotica as well; you'll find my profile here.
To celebrate 10k followers (more than 12.5k now!), I am also curating my favourite posts month by month. It's also a work in progress, but you'll find my selection under the hashtag #retrospective.

This blog contains fantasies that include lack of consent, potentially dangerous practices, and the use of homophobic slurs for the purposes of erotic humiliation. All of that is fantasy and not real life. I do not condone or encourage any of this in real life--never confuse the two!

All characters in stories and captions are adults.
Be safe, be sane, and respect people's limits!

embracingmyperversion

Husband to houseboy: chapter 7

This is the seventh chapter of a longer story I'm working on. You can find the first chapter here. For all chapters, see: #husband to houseboy

This is my second long, multi-chapter story. You will find the first one here: #boy zoo story

This is one of the longer chapters, but I think it's really hot! And, it wraps up the honeymoon sequence. More to come, of course!

So much more happened during our honeymoon on the private island. A lot of firsts, a lot of sexy stuff, and a lot of rough stuff. Most of our days fell into a comfortable routine, though. I catered to his every need, he played with me and used my body for several orgasms, and I was denied release. Part of me wondered whether life could really be like this. Could it be that Master Oliver enjoyed dominating, using, and humiliating me so much that his desire to bottom from time to time could take a back seat? Could our everyday life ever be like this? If so, how would we bring in money?

At that time, it didn't seem like this could be ever more than something for play time, not everyday life. How could I at this point have foreseen the tremendous changes that would take place in our lives in the next few years.

Anyway, it's impossible to talk about everything that happened in those two weeks here, and the chapters so far have already sketched a very good picture. However, there were a few episodes I still wanted to tell you about. I'll just tell these in vignettes before I skip to the end of the honeymoon.

Vignette 1

A few days after the day that I helped pay for the rental, I had finished cleaning the house and had started making dinner. As I said, most of it was a pleasant everyday routine; it almost felt like a regular domestic scene, if you ignored the nudity, chastity, and rough kink and sex scenes. Master Oliver came up behind me, at first just playfully teasing my pussy, kissing the back of my neck, and playing with my sensitive nipples as he asks me about what I'm making him (not us, him; I'm just generously allowed to share in his meal).

I tried to continue cooking, as I didn't want dinner to be late, but it was hard to concentrate. I answered him but also sounded a little annoyed, as I found it difficult to concentrate on both duties (cooking and being his bitch boy) at the same time.

"Sir, I'd like to continue cooking, please."

"What, you don't want my dick?"

"I need your dick, Sir. Just not right now."

Of course, as soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong answer. He swept my work area clean with one swoop and bent me over the kitchen counter. He pulled out his hard dick, yet part of me was still thinking about getting his dinner ready in time and the work it would be to clean up the mess.

What I should have been worried about, however, was that he was not reaching for any lube. As he pushed his big head roughly past my hole--still tight despite everything it had gone through over the last few days--I screamed in pain.

He growled: "Only obedient boys get lube."

It hurt like hell. He was rough and fucked me deep. I didn't think I had ever had such a painful fuck--yet, why did my cage feel so incredibly small at this time? As soon as that question popped up in my mind, I knew the answer. I always loved when he took control. I love it when he's aggressive and assertive, dominating. It's not so much that I love the pain itself, mostly I don't. I love how the pain makes me feel: small, submissive, used, dominated.

In tears, I told him: "I am sorry, Sir. I always want your dick. I was wrong to put my convenience before your need."

He painfully pulled my head back by my hair and make me look him in the eyes: "Yes, you were, boy. But, I do love seeing you in tears as I fuck you."

He moved in for a kiss, I opened my mouth, eager for his big tongue. But, instead he spat in my open mouth: "Naughty boys like you don't deserve tenderness. They deserve pain and humiliation."

"That's right, Sir!"

He pushed my head against the cold, hard stone countertop and with deep grunts and a few last deep thrusts, he shot his load up my pussy.

This had been very much a quicky, yet it had been one of my hottest fucks ever. My legs had gone so weak from the intensity of the fuck that I fell to the floor as soon as he let go of me. He looked down at me and said: "You see, boy. This was just a quicky. I know what I'm doing; there's no need to second guess me. Had you just gone along, it would have even been quicker, because now you'll have to clean all of this up first. If you had just let me fuck you, you wouldn't have been far behind schedule."

"I am sorry for not having trusted your judgement, Sir. I should have known better. In the future, I will always remember that you know best, Sir."

"Now, clean yourself and the kitchen, and I still expect dinner to be on time."

I tried to get back on track but cleaning the kitchen again and redoing much of the prep turned out to be too much. Dinner was late and I couldn't apologize profusely enough. I knew that if I had just let him fuck me, as I always should, he wouldn't have created that mess to teach me a lesson and put me in my place. It was my fault. I accepted that I deserved to be punished.

As he took me downstairs to the dungeon, he explained to me that while part of my punishment will be for refusing him my pussy, I would still have gotten punished either way. Even without throwing everything on the floor, dinner would likely still have been late, so I'd still deserve to be punished.

I asked whether I would still get punished, even if it was beyond my control.

"Yes, boy. Does that not seem fair to you?"

I hesitated to answer. Could I really answer freely if I felt that that would be unfair.

"You can answer freely, I won't hold your answer against you, boy."

"It does feel like that would be unfair, Sir. Why would I get punished for things that aren't in my control?"

"It's not fair, boy. It isn't meant to be fair. Punishing you is about power and control. Not fairness."

I thought about that as he pondered which whip or flogger to use first. I realized what an important lesson that was to internalize: our relationship is not about fairness, or equality for that matter. It is about inequality, submission, power and control. Accepting that he could punish me even if I did nothing wrong, while it may feel wrong, is key to fully embracing my new role. I don't deserve good treatment just because I did well. If he wants to punish me that's his choice and right.

After all, serving him well is its own reward and a minimum expectation, not something I should expect a reward--or, absence of pain--for in return.

Vignette 2

A little over halfway through our honeymoon, Master Oliver surprised me. That day had been routine. I had slept in bondage in the dungeon and he woke me up by pissing on me. His morning piss was pungent and before I could clean myself and the floor and cage, he fucked my face to cum for the first time that day. After cleaning up, I made his breakfast, ate something small myself afterwards, and started doing chores as he relaxed on the private beach. At one point, as I brought him a fresh drink, he pulled me over his lap and spanked me--no reason, he said, he just felt like it. I was pretty sure some of the boats in the distance could see us, and was well past caring about that.

After lunch, he fucked me. He didn't cum, however. He just cradled me, dick in my ass, spooning me and kissing the back of my neck.

He said: "You've been such a good boy. You've learned being a great sex slave and houseboy so quickly, I'm really proud of you."

I was blushing and said: "Thank you, Sir. I am so happy to be able to please you and serve you. Part of me wishes that this could be our lives rather than just our honeymoon."

- "I know we'll have to think about practical and mundane things again when we get back, like jobs and bills. But, trust me: we can incorporate much more of this into our everyday lives than you think."

- "I'd love that, Sir."

- "Now, since you've been so good and not once asked for permission to cum, I am willing to allow you to cum once before the end of our honeymoon. Would you like that? You certainly deserve it."

- "Thank you, Sir. That is so generous of you. To be honest, I never thought I'd make it this far without cumming. I'm used to letting you cum first but not to being denied, at least not this consistently. It was difficult at first, but now it just feels right. I love how horny it keeps me, and I love the feeling of sexual frustration, and pent-up energy. Sir, with your permission, I would prefer not to cum until the end of our honeymoon."

He turned me around, his cock slipping out of my boy pussy, and looked me in the eyes. He was smiling. I could see he was so proud of me. He told me: "I am so lucky to have found you, you bring the best out in me--or, at least the best dom. I am so proud of you!"

I smiled and said: "Knowing you're proud of me is much more satisfying than any orgasm could ever be, Sir."

He kissed me and held me tight. It a beautiful, tender moment. Most of the afternoon, he spent kissing, teasing, biting, groping, and playing with my body. Having been denied for so long, every touch felt extra sensual and sexual. I flexed, thrashed, screamed in pleasure and desperation. Every touch made me want to change my decision and take him up on allowing me to cum, but every touch also made me so proud of having said 'no' to his offer and only made me want to stay locked even longer.

Eventually, he let me go. There wasn't much time to serve dinner, so he allowed me to just heat leftovers. He ate but I was to only have a small snack. Clearly he was planning some extensive fucking.

He fucked me so well that night. He had me bent in half, legs in the air. He leaned in and whispered: "You're my bitch boy now. There's no turning back from this. Once you declined to cum, I knew exactly how deep your submission runs, even deeper than I had already suspected. You know I'm right."

I realized he was right. This is a new level where I'm the one denying myself because. He doesn't even need to force me anymore.

He grabs my limp dick in its cage: "You know that when you'll eventually be allowed to cum, it'll be so good, don't you boy? It'll all have been more than worth it."

- "Yes, Sir. But even now without cumming, it's all more than worth it. I am loving every second of being your sex slave and houseboy."

He came soon after and made sure to do so on my cage. It only reinforced what I had foregone. We continued to cuddle and make out for a while. That night he allowed me to sleep in the bed. I was so excited and happy. Not only was I proud of the decision I made today, and proud of making him proud, but I was also so delighted at the wonderful mix of rough dominance and loving tenderness that today displayed.

I slept like a rock and woke up early. I slipped out of the bed quietly to make breakfast--something I hadn't been able to do most mornings because I had to wait for him to open my cage or release me from bondage. I was so happy just to be able to do that the next morning.

The big confession

We were at the end of a wonderful two weeks, I made Him a wonderful meal--my best one yet, I must say--and he played with me all night long. We were set to leave tomorrow in the late morning. It felt like back to a regular life, but how 'regular' could it ever be again after this honeymoon? Maybe regular when seen from the outside, but surely our dynamic was going to be special and kinky forever.

It was late when he released me from the bondage he had me in most of the night and invited me to kneel in front of him. I kneeled and spontaneously prostrated. I kissed his feet; they were sweaty and smelly from the day's heat. I wanted to lick of the sweat but he told me to get up and look him in the eyes. I did and I was so happy. I looked at him only to be reminded of what a beautiful and wonderful man I had not only married but confirmed my submission to. I realized that most of these two weeks I had been looking down in his presence. It was a subconscious acceptance of my submission and my lower status that I only now realized I had internalized.

- "You have been a wonderful chaste sex slave and houseboy to me over these last two weeks. And, while we won't quite be able to live our regular lives exactly like we did in the last two weeks once we get home, I think you know just as well as I do that we also cannot go back to being equals in our relationship. Of course, our sex life was never equal, but I think you'll accept that from now on, we simply won't be equals in our entire relationship. What do you think, boy?"

- "I absolutely agree, Sir. I would never again want you to think of me as your equal partner. I want you to think of me as your toy, your boy, your property."

- "I couldn't possibly think of you differently, boy. And, of course, you know that doesn't mean that I love you any less--quite the opposite! Now, you owe me one more big confession of a fantasy before I grant you that one orgasm that you worked so hard to earn--I've long lost count how many times I shot my load since you last came. Be careful what you confess, though. After all, we've made most of your confessions so far reality."

- "Sir, I'd love for this confession to become a reality! You see, Sir, I feel guilty. With you having taken on such a dominant role in our relationship, I have been so spoiled. The sub in me is so utterly fulfilled, as is--I truly hope--your dominant side."

- "It certainly is!"

- "Yet, I also know that you have a versatile side to you, Sir."

I paused for a second. Master Oliver, intrigued, implored me to continue.

- "Sir, nothing would make me happier than you turning me into a chaste cuckold as well as your sex slave and houseboy. It would be unfair for me to be the only one who gets everything he craves in this relationship. I would love to see you find a man who can fulfil your versatile desires that I simply cannot fulfil. I would love to watch you bring home man after man until you find the one who fulfils you desires, or if just sleeping around is what you desire, I will happily watch you bring home another man as frequently as you could ever wish, and I'll be happy for you. I will not feel any jealousy, as I accept that what makes you happy must be what makes me happy. I, of course, will remain chaste and fully loyal and committed to you, Sir."

Master Oliver seemed overjoyed to hear me say these words, he even shed a few tears of happiness. He grabbed the leash that was still attached to my collar from earlier that night and pulled me in for a deep, tender kiss. He held me close and said: "I am so glad to hear you say this, boy. In truth, I was hoping, and expecting, that you'd say that. I had already long planned to start cuckolding you, and to hear you confess your fantasy, it just confirmed to me that this is the final piece in the puzzle for our happiness."

Now it was my time to choke back some tears, and say: "You deserve that sort of happiness, Sir. You compared our relationship to a 1950s traditional household, and that's where I got my inspiration. After all, the quintessential 1950s man of the house is Don Draper from Mad Men, and he gets to sleep around with whoever he wants! I cannot think of anything more beautiful than me being your 1950s submissive and obedient housewife, while you keep me in line and sleep with whoever you want, Sir."

After this tender and emotional moment, he told me to get back on my knees, and said it was time for something I had truly earned--'the hard way', he emphasized. He bent over to unlock my cage. I hadn't seen my dick in two weeks! Every time he unlocked me to clean, he blindfold and cuffed me first. As he started telling me about how much he looked forward to turning me into a cuckold, he started stroking my dick with his feet. He told me to keep my hands behind my back. He told me how he'll make me watch but not touch, how he'll introduce me to strangers as his cuckold and houseboy and make me show off my cage to ensure the men that I'm no threat. I got rock hard in no time--sure, it had been forever, but it was also because I was listening to one of the hottest fantasies I could ever imagine, and I realized that it would soon become reality! It was when he told me that when I'd be a really good boy, he may allow me to eat their loads out of his ass that I could no longer hold back.

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