The room is dimly lit, casting shadows that dance across the walls. I’m standing here, my heart pounding, as she poses for the camera. Her red top clings to her curves, accentuating every line and angle. The fabric is so tight that it leaves little to the imagination, and her shoulders are bare, inviting the eye to wander. Her makeup is flawless, and her hair cascades over one shoulder, framing her face perfectly. She’s got this neutral expression, but there’s a spark in her eyes that tells me she’s enjoying this, enjoying the power she holds over me.
Your Inadequacy is My Pleasure
I can feel the heat rising in my face as she gestures, her arm raised slightly, a silent command to keep staring. The words on the image are like a taunt, a reminder of my place. ‘Keep staring loser. You’re going to blow in your pants while I make fun of your inferior little penis.’ It’s a humiliation, a reminder of my inadequacy, and yet, I can’t look away. The scattered words around the edges—’spurt,’ ‘spurt,’ ‘moan,’ ‘grunt’—they’re like a chorus of my own failure. I’m a cuckold, and she’s the one in control, the one who decides my fate. And in this moment, I’m hers, completely and utterly.








