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!
This is the eighth 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
Master Oliver made sure to lock me again before we went to bed. That is to say: he went to bed. I had to be up early the next morning for an appointment and I didn't want to wake him, so I suggested that I'd sleep on the sofa instead. He smiled, kissed me, and said "you're such a thoughtful and good boy." Unfortunately, that would mean I wouldn't be able to wake him up with a blowjob or foot worship, but I would make sure his breakfast would be ready for when he woke up.
I had a horrible night. That sofa is not a good one to sleep on, but I didn't mind. Him being able to sleep in was more important to me than my comfort. Early the next morning, I made his breakfast and as I was looking down for a second, I looked at my cage, securely locked and leaving no illusion of freedom or being a real man no illusions about who'd who in our relationship. On a regular day, when I'm so busy constantly serving him and thinking about his needs, I don't usually have much if any time to think about where I am in life right now. I smiled looking at the cage. I felt content and happy knowing that I am exactly where I belong!
I finished his breakfast and set the coffee maker to have a cup ready by his usual wake-up time. I fought the urge to open the bedroom door and have a quick look at my beautiful master's sleeping body, but I could never have risked waking him for no good reason. I know he'll grant me the privilege of worshipping that perfect body when he thinks I deserved it.
Later that morning, I received a text message saying that he had never slept better. Sleeping alone, without having to worry about another or being woken by their tossing and turning, is so much more comfortable: "The bedroom is my sanctuary now. When you get home, you can clean out the storage room and we'll put down a mattress. That way, you don't have to sleep on that uncomfortable sofa and hurt your back."
I texted back: "Thank you, Sir. Allowing me to sleep in the storage room is so thoughtful!"
- "Of course, boy. I don't want you unable to serve me because you develop a back problem. Make sure the storage room is completely bare, though. A slave's room should not have any unnecessary luxury."
That day, I rushed home early from work and went to work on clearing out the storage room. Most of what was in there was my stuff, from when I moved into what was originally his place. He said he'd allow me to keep one suitcase worth of stuff but I was expected to give the rest to goodwill. I ended up giving pretty much all of it away. After all, I hadn't used these things for years, why would I need them now that I am a submissive houseboy? Why do I need possessions except for the clothes I need to go to work? Pretty soon, we had an empty storage room with nothing but a single mattress.
When Master Oliver arrived, he inspected it and praised the fact that I was getting rid of pretty much everything. There was nothing in the room: no pictures, no night stand, no soft lighting. Only a mattress, a pillow, and one single light bulb. He said it was perfect and I couldn't but agree. After all, the only time I'd spend here is sleeping. Any time I'm not sleeping, I should be either at work or serving my Master.
"Just one more thing."
He took a stud finder and found the stud closest to where my head would rest. He told me to put a bolt there: "In case I need to give you a time out, I can chain your collar to that."
It was getting late and I had been spending all my time on getting my new sleeping arrangement in order. As a result, I was hopelessly behind on getting dinner ready. However, Master Oliver said it didn't matter. He wanted to reward me for having been such a good boy, he'd take me out for dinner. At the restaurant, he ordered for me. The waiter looked quizzically, maybe even a little weirded out by the obvious inequality in our dynamic. I was allowed one glass of wine, but nothing more, and no dessert. He, of course, did have dessert.
After dinner, we went to a club. He got me some water and a whiskey, neat, for himself. Pretty soon he was flirting with some pretty, young guy. I could see from his bulge that he was hung, and I could only stand by and watch. The guy asked about me.
"Oh, don't worry about him. He's just my husband."
"Wait... What?!"
"Don't worry, he's my locked cuckold husband. He's OK with me being a slut and sleeping with other men."
The boy looked me over, first seemingly with puzzlement, then with amusement.
"When you say 'locked' does that mean what I think it means?"
"Absolutely. Show him, babe!"
"Here, Sir?"
The boy was amused that I called my husband Sir.
"Of course, boy. Don't worry, this is a club where they won't mind."
I felt humiliated, degraded. I tried not to look the boy in the eyes as I opened my zipper and pulled my pant down, revealing my smoothly shaven crotch with a small, secure cage as centre piece. He burst out laughing: "Well! I guess this submissive bitch boy is no threat to me."
"That's right, Sir. I am not."
They made out some more and my husband kept feeling up the boy's big bulge. Occasionally, he'd turn to me and tell me that this is a real dick, "Don't you think that that's what I deserve, boy?"
"I do, Sir. I am so happy for you, and I am sorry that I've never been able to give you that."
Eventually, the boy dragged him to the dark room in the back. I didn't quite know what to do. Should I follow? It's not like I would be able to watch in the dark room. Should I go home or wait in the car? It felt so real. So far, I had only known about his adventures afterwards, now it was happening right in front of my eyes. It felt so humiliating and so exhilarating! I stood around awkwardly with my water, not knowing how long they'd be or what to do. Eventually, they returned and Master Oliver told me that the boy was going to come home with us, so I'd better pull the car around.
They made out in the back of the car as I drove them home. When we arrived, they went straight to the bedroom. All Master told me was to wake them with breakfast in bed tomorrow morning and not to disturb them before.
It was my first night in the storage room, and Master was already taking advantage of his new-found privacy. All night, I could hear them going at it. The sex sounded intense and passionate. Eventually, I managed to sleep, and I think they got some as well. I woke up early to make sure to have a beautiful breakfast ready for them. They were fucking again; I could hear them.
I knocked on the door at the time I had been told. Master told me to enter and they were making out. I offered them their breakfast but the boy said I should have mine first. I was confused, until my Master turned around and presented me with his well-bred ass. It was fresh; the boy must have pumped another load in my husband just this morning, and I lovingly licked and sucked every drop out of my husband's beautiful, delicate bussy. He moaned and told me he could tell how much I love him from how tenderly I make love to his hole with my tongue even after it had been ravaged by another man. I was just happy to be involved in some way in his sex life.
After they had their breakfast, I drove the boy to the local college where he was a student. He asked me about why I allowed my husband to do this to me. I told him about how much love, mutual respect, and trust such a relationship required. He was intrigued but I don't think he was mature and experienced enough to really understand it. In the end, I said: "I just want to see him happy. I know your dick made him happy last night."
"And this morning," he added with a smirk.
This particular boy never came over again. Master said he had a good dick but was nothing special in bed, nor very interesting as a person. What he really wanted was to cuckold me with someone worthy of him, and his newfound privacy in the bedroom would really help with that. There'd be no more awkwardness of taking men to another place, or making special arrangements to have me sleep on the sofa. No, he already had his private bedroom to make love with other men in!
We both knew that would take work and the first step would be setting up his dating profile. When I went to bed that evening in my tiny storage room/bedroom, I looked around and realized that it was this sleeping arrangement that would turning me into a cuckold so much easier, that would make it so much easier for Master to find the good dick and love making that he deserved. I smiled and slept very, very well...
As always: To be continued!
Reblogged
Sent!
This blog contains adult content. In order to view it freely, please log in or register
and confirm you are 18 years or older
Husband to houseboy: chapter 9
This is where I'm truly becoming his cuckold!
This is the eighth 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
Master Oliver made sure to lock me again before we went to bed. That is to say: he went to bed. I had to be up early the next morning for an appointment and I didn't want to wake him, so I suggested that I'd sleep on the sofa instead. He smiled, kissed me, and said "you're such a thoughtful and good boy." Unfortunately, that would mean I wouldn't be able to wake him up with a blowjob or foot worship, but I would make sure his breakfast would be ready for when he woke up.
I had a horrible night. That sofa is not a good one to sleep on, but I didn't mind. Him being able to sleep in was more important to me than my comfort. Early the next morning, I made his breakfast and as I was looking down for a second, I looked at my cage, securely locked and leaving no illusion of freedom or being a real man no illusions about who'd who in our relationship. On a regular day, when I'm so busy constantly serving him and thinking about his needs, I don't usually have much if any time to think about where I am in life right now. I smiled looking at the cage. I felt content and happy knowing that I am exactly where I belong!
I finished his breakfast and set the coffee maker to have a cup ready by his usual wake-up time. I fought the urge to open the bedroom door and have a quick look at my beautiful master's sleeping body, but I could never have risked waking him for no good reason. I know he'll grant me the privilege of worshipping that perfect body when he thinks I deserved it.
Later that morning, I received a text message saying that he had never slept better. Sleeping alone, without having to worry about another or being woken by their tossing and turning, is so much more comfortable: "The bedroom is my sanctuary now. When you get home, you can clean out the storage room and we'll put down a mattress. That way, you don't have to sleep on that uncomfortable sofa and hurt your back."
I texted back: "Thank you, Sir. Allowing me to sleep in the storage room is so thoughtful!"
- "Of course, boy. I don't want you unable to serve me because you develop a back problem. Make sure the storage room is completely bare, though. A slave's room should not have any unnecessary luxury."
That day, I rushed home early from work and went to work on clearing out the storage room. Most of what was in there was my stuff, from when I moved into what was originally his place. He said he'd allow me to keep one suitcase worth of stuff but I was expected to give the rest to goodwill. I ended up giving pretty much all of it away. After all, I hadn't used these things for years, why would I need them now that I am a submissive houseboy? Why do I need possessions except for the clothes I need to go to work? Pretty soon, we had an empty storage room with nothing but a single mattress.
When Master Oliver arrived, he inspected it and praised the fact that I was getting rid of pretty much everything. There was nothing in the room: no pictures, no night stand, no soft lighting. Only a mattress, a pillow, and one single light bulb. He said it was perfect and I couldn't but agree. After all, the only time I'd spend here is sleeping. Any time I'm not sleeping, I should be either at work or serving my Master.
"Just one more thing."
He took a stud finder and found the stud closest to where my head would rest. He told me to put a bolt there: "In case I need to give you a time out, I can chain your collar to that."
It was getting late and I had been spending all my time on getting my new sleeping arrangement in order. As a result, I was hopelessly behind on getting dinner ready. However, Master Oliver said it didn't matter. He wanted to reward me for having been such a good boy, he'd take me out for dinner. At the restaurant, he ordered for me. The waiter looked quizzically, maybe even a little weirded out by the obvious inequality in our dynamic. I was allowed one glass of wine, but nothing more, and no dessert. He, of course, did have dessert.
After dinner, we went to a club. He got me some water and a whiskey, neat, for himself. Pretty soon he was flirting with some pretty, young guy. I could see from his bulge that he was hung, and I could only stand by and watch. The guy asked about me.
"Oh, don't worry about him. He's just my husband."
"Wait... What?!"
"Don't worry, he's my locked cuckold husband. He's OK with me being a slut and sleeping with other men."
The boy looked me over, first seemingly with puzzlement, then with amusement.
"When you say 'locked' does that mean what I think it means?"
"Absolutely. Show him, babe!"
"Here, Sir?"
The boy was amused that I called my husband Sir.
"Of course, boy. Don't worry, this is a club where they won't mind."
I felt humiliated, degraded. I tried not to look the boy in the eyes as I opened my zipper and pulled my pant down, revealing my smoothly shaven crotch with a small, secure cage as centre piece. He burst out laughing: "Well! I guess this submissive bitch boy is no threat to me."
"That's right, Sir. I am not."
They made out some more and my husband kept feeling up the boy's big bulge. Occasionally, he'd turn to me and tell me that this is a real dick, "Don't you think that that's what I deserve, boy?"
"I do, Sir. I am so happy for you, and I am sorry that I've never been able to give you that."
Eventually, the boy dragged him to the dark room in the back. I didn't quite know what to do. Should I follow? It's not like I would be able to watch in the dark room. Should I go home or wait in the car? It felt so real. So far, I had only known about his adventures afterwards, now it was happening right in front of my eyes. It felt so humiliating and so exhilarating! I stood around awkwardly with my water, not knowing how long they'd be or what to do. Eventually, they returned and Master Oliver told me that the boy was going to come home with us, so I'd better pull the car around.
They made out in the back of the car as I drove them home. When we arrived, they went straight to the bedroom. All Master told me was to wake them with breakfast in bed tomorrow morning and not to disturb them before.
It was my first night in the storage room, and Master was already taking advantage of his new-found privacy. All night, I could hear them going at it. The sex sounded intense and passionate. Eventually, I managed to sleep, and I think they got some as well. I woke up early to make sure to have a beautiful breakfast ready for them. They were fucking again; I could hear them.
I knocked on the door at the time I had been told. Master told me to enter and they were making out. I offered them their breakfast but the boy said I should have mine first. I was confused, until my Master turned around and presented me with his well-bred ass. It was fresh; the boy must have pumped another load in my husband just this morning, and I lovingly licked and sucked every drop out of my husband's beautiful, delicate bussy. He moaned and told me he could tell how much I love him from how tenderly I make love to his hole with my tongue even after it had been ravaged by another man. I was just happy to be involved in some way in his sex life.
After they had their breakfast, I drove the boy to the local college where he was a student. He asked me about why I allowed my husband to do this to me. I told him about how much love, mutual respect, and trust such a relationship required. He was intrigued but I don't think he was mature and experienced enough to really understand it. In the end, I said: "I just want to see him happy. I know your dick made him happy last night."
"And this morning," he added with a smirk.
This particular boy never came over again. Master said he had a good dick but was nothing special in bed, nor very interesting as a person. What he really wanted was to cuckold me with someone worthy of him, and his newfound privacy in the bedroom would really help with that. There'd be no more awkwardness of taking men to another place, or making special arrangements to have me sleep on the sofa. No, he already had his private bedroom to make love with other men in!
We both knew that would take work and the first step would be setting up his dating profile. When I went to bed that evening in my tiny storage room/bedroom, I looked around and realized that it was this sleeping arrangement that would turning me into a cuckold so much easier, that would make it so much easier for Master to find the good dick and love making that he deserved. I smiled and slept very, very well...
As always: To be continued!