Phone Sex Confessions: The Joy of Lesbian Cuckolding
The first of a series of anonymous stories from my experiences as a phone sex operator
I have an ongoing role play with one of my subs. Every time he calls we dive right into character. The story begins with him coming home to his girlfriend and I having a bit of wine after dinner and I decide to be blunt. I divulge that we’ve been sleeping together and that she doesn’t want him anymore, humiliating him in front of her. She’s shy at first but confesses it’s all true. He’s stunned and in utter denial, bawling and pleading with her to deny it all. In his vulnerable state of shock I proceed to taunt him, making out with her, sucking on her tits, and move down to eat her pussy. And as his disbelief turns into arousal I promptly move to lock him in chastity, denying him any satisfaction from this affair. He becomes fully cuckolded by us, a lesbian couple, and as the story evolves I train him to be our slave.
He calls often, requesting new things each time. Sadistic torture, mental manipulation, submissive positions. Craving to be used and punished for his incompetence. And as the weeks pass I realize that it's become both an expansive fantasy and a microcosm of reality. It’s one that stems from the very real effects of patriarchy, a societal structure that defaults men's gaze and their orgasm and denies women's sexual pleasure. Women who are queer feel this type of oppression even further compounded as our sexuality isn’t exclusive to men.
In our role play he relinquishes the conquest of his lover, not just to an “alpha male”, but to another woman. Someone who knows how to please her in a way that a man never could. He gives up control of his own pleasure while we experience ours fully. Using him as a wallet, a stool, a punching bag, whatever makes us feel good. I can't help but feel like it's a little more than just a kinky story.
It's mostly a fantasy of surrender, but it's also one of revenge. To reclaim our money, power, sex, and time while destroying everything he felt entitled to. To break his ego, his autonomy, and his back (lol). And to reject the notion that sex requires a man at all. It’s everything I love about Femdom and everything I love about being queer. The blissful crossover of power exchange and empowerment.
Our erotic imaginations are vast and chaotic but there are large crumbs of truth in the layer cake of desire. Bits and pieces of myself that I sometimes find in the play that I do for work. There are precious little moments when it’s simultaneously hot and cathartic. And in the end I know the feeling is mutual because every time I make him say “I don’t deserve pussy”, he comes calling back for more.