I was given permission to tell this story from a long time cuckold. For this story we will call him Brian.

“I don’t even know how this all began. One day I was living the perfect marriage, or so I thought, and the next, I stood in the middle of my bedroom while my wife cheated on me. Well, looking back at it now, I guess it wasn’t cheating. She was feeding her soul what it had lacked for so long. A real man. I’m a big guy, but lacking in one thing. Cock size. About 4 inches, I’ve had girlfriends in the past complain, but I leaned how to become orally gifted. Sex was quick, but I could always get them off with my tongue or toys. It was that way with my wife too, well, until it wasn’t. And so it began.

I never thought I would be here, confessing this part of myself. It started as a whisper in the back of my mind, a fleeting thought I quickly brushed aside. But over time, the thought grew, and soon, I couldn’t ignore it.

My wife, Emily, is breathtaking—smart, confident, and effortlessly beautiful. From the moment we met, I knew I was lucky. But deep down, I carried a secret, a craving I didn’t understand at first. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a forum discussing the cuckold lifestyle that I realized there was a name for my fantasy.

At first, I was ashamed. What kind of man wanted to see his wife with another? The idea should have filled me with jealousy, but instead, it thrilled me in ways I couldn’t explain. I kept it buried, afraid of what Emily might think. But secrets have a way of eating at you, and one night, after a few glasses of wine, I confessed.

She stared at me, silent. My heart pounded. Had I ruined everything? Then, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.

“So, you want to watch me with someone else?” she asked.

I nodded, barely breathing.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

Days turned into weeks, and I convinced myself she had dismissed the idea. Then, one evening, she dropped a bombshell.

“There’s someone I’ve been talking to,” she said. “If we’re really doing this, I want to do it right.”

The moment was surreal. I expected jealousy, but instead, I felt something else—excitement, arousal, anticipation. The night arrived faster than I imagined. Watching Emily with another man was both torment and pleasure in its purest form. I had never seen her like that before—uninhibited, free, lost in pleasure. And though I was an observer, I had never felt closer to her. He was 3 times my size and though I should have be intimidated, I’m on the edge of excitement.

The way he touched my wife made me feel a pang of guilt. Never once had she used that language in the bedroom with me. All I could think was “Had I ever satisfied her?”

Afterward, she curled up beside me, tracing her fingers over my skin. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

I smiled, kissed her forehead, and nodded. “More than okay.”

Some might not understand, but for us, it brought a new level of intimacy, trust, and passion. And in the end, that’s all that matters.

The post My Secret Desire: A Cuckold Confession appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be right here. Looking out the window of my beach home while the maid scurried behind me to get things in order. I can’t help but giggle a few times when I hear the sweet little hums of a man doing a days work. In the reflection of the mirror, that pink uniform and bouncy ruffles let me know that the emasculation process is working. This is not for all men, but for the beta boys who dream of being beneath the sharp stiletto of a Goddess.

His chore list is left on the wall at the entrance of my home, along with the pink uniform that he must endure. Later in the emasculation process he may move to another color, but that will take time and devotion. I am not the kind of Goddess that will abuse a submissive, but the kind that forces them to bend and mold into my personal puppet.

Once the beta boy changes, his next move is to stand before me and allow the chastity to be applied. I use a lightweight device that changes the personality of a man quickly. They go from Alpha to beta once the lock is clicked and the key is removed. I do love the look on their face when they realize life as they know it is over. As pitiful as it is, I feel that his real purpose in life is revealed.

Emasculation is not the end of the world, but the beginning of a new chapter in life.

As the tasks are checked off, each one will earn the submissive man another point. A chart is kept in a secure place as a reward system for a job well done. Once he reaches the desired amount of points, he can trade them in for a reward of his choice. If he is found to not complete the task as needed, there will be a form of punishment delivered. Each time it will be different, but well deserved.

Task 1

Remember standards? 100 times you will write out “I am owned by Goddess Gypsy. I will do only her wishes.”

You will write these by hand, take a picture, and send it to me. Only then will you be rewarded.

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THE STORY BELOW IS PURELY FICTION. NOT A SERVICE THAT I OFFER

Can Blackmail be a therapeutic release? You will need to ask the person living moment to moment in fear of losing everything they love. All my life I’ve been the girl that people went to and confessed their darkest dreams and desires. I’ve told each one that their secrets are safe with me, but my little black book better never get in the wrong hands. Some have a lot to lose, and others, well, they deserve the pain.

“My name is Gypsy, and welcome to my office. If you would have a seat over on the couch, I’ll need to get a little information before we start. What brings you to see me today? I want you to know, everything to say is safe with me. So, don’t worry. I have your best interest in mind.”

He sat on the couch, hands in his lap as he tried to control the shaking. How do you tell someone what he felt inside? Maybe a drink would help. At this point, it couldn’t hurt.

“May I have something to drink. Whiskey if you have it,” he whispered.

Such a tiny voice for a big man. He would be far too easy to manipulate. I nodded before turning my back to make the drink. What he didn’t see was the crushed addition of two little blue pills. Viagra would loosen his tongue and the belt on his pants. Men like him are far too easy to control. Blackmail will prove to be fun on this one.

“Of course, you can. Drink up. A little something to warm those bones up,” I laughed. I meant loosen the tongue, but bones will work fine too. Poor thing looked so scared.

I handed over the drink, stopping to watch as he gulped down about a 1/4 of the glass. This would go better than expected if he was as nervous as the shaking in his hands. I reached down and took his free hand, placing it on the other side of the crystal goblet to steady him.

“Drink all you need. This is a free zone and nothing is sacred here. I promise to never judge you for anything you say or do,” I smiled.

His hands lowered along with his eyes. The glass now pressed against him groin to steady the fluid. “I need someone to take control of my life. I can’t control it any longer,” he whispered.

Bingo. I knew I made the right choice when I placed the Viagra in the drink. Soon, he will be under my thumb and crying for release. Of course, he will have to pay a hefty price to feel any lightness in his balls. I might have a good heart, but my rates will change his perspective of this whole appointment.

He twitched in his seat after finishing the drink. I knew that he was on fire. It amused me more than it should, but then again, he is the one who came to me.

“Ma’am, I have to problem. I have to stroke my cock before I explode,” he begged.

A simple nod of my head gave him the approval he sought. Watching his cock slip from him pants and his hand feverishly stroke, it began. I asked all the questions that would destroy this man if he didn’t do as I said. Things that no wife or family would ever want to hear, I know knew about. Believe me when I say this, I remember everything told to me.

As he screamed out the name and numbers to everything I wanted to know, he shot in the air and covered his face with his own cum. Not a bad first start to this new relationship. He’s to visit weekly now, and before he left, I whispered one finally thing.

“I own you!

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What is a gooner? A person who commits the act of gooning. In more extreme cases, many people choose to go so far with gooning, that they willingly develop a porn addiction.

The list is long of the little gooner bitch boys I have. Some beg for release, and others, they beg to never cum again. I can’t say which I like better because both are fun to drain into my own personal bank account. See, the piggies love a negative balance, but what they crave is knowing who took it all. I guess that would label me heartless, but I’m a business woman. What makes me different is that when I collect a paycheck, it’s a whole different feeling of accomplishment.

Gooner boy, are you ready to edge for me?

Whether you free range or are locked in a cage, the mind fuck is where we really get off. I have a Dominate personality and many wants and needs. Why should I pay for things when my gooner boys will do it for me? Nails, hair, clothing, trips, all with other men. Alpha men. I could never date a beta boy, but I would allow him to tribute me often. I do love when they cry about how much money they’ve spent on me. Buyers regret? I don’t play that game. It takes a big bank account to live my lifestyle. You might need a few drinks before considering playing with me.

Are you ready to pay? If so, then show me the money. Don’t waste my time unless you can give me everything a Goddess like me deserves. Call or chat me on niteflirt, and lets take this relationship to explosive levels. Cha ching. The money train is loading. Climb aboard you fucking loser. The train is leaving the station.

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