The memory of that day still haunts me. The White Slut Training Academy, a place where fantasies and humiliations intertwine, was where my wife, Hélène, found herself. The room, bathed in a mix of natural and artificial light, held a bed where she lay, her back to the camera, legs raised, and hands tucked beneath her body. The sheet barely covered her lower half, leaving her chest exposed, a tantalizing glimpse of her body that sent a mix of excitement and dread through me.The setting was intimate, a bedroom with pillows and a bedside lamp casting a warm glow. Hélène’s face was partially visible, her expression a mystery to me, even now. The room was filled with the weight of anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing what’s to come. The text on the wall, ‘Welcome to African migrants,’ was a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play. My wife, a French woman, was about to learn a new kind of submission.
Practicing Submission: A Cuckold’s Perspective
As I recall, the training was intense. Hélène was practicing how to greet Black men, a ritual that was both humiliating and arousing. The identification card, ‘RÉPUBLIQUE FRANÇAISE,’ lay on the bedside table, a symbol of her past life, now overshadowed by her new role. The room echoed with the whispers of her training, the sound of her voice as she practiced, and the rustle of the sheet as she moved. The lamp flickered, casting shadows that danced across her skin, highlighting the curves of her body.The experience was a rollercoaster of emotions. As a cuckold, I was both thrilled and tormented by the thought of her training. The ‘YOU HAVE BEEN HACKED!’ message on the wall was a chilling reminder of the vulnerability we both felt. Hélène’s journey at the White Slut Training Academy was a testament to her willingness to explore, to submit, and to grow. It was a chapter in our lives that we would never forget, a memory that would forever be etched in our minds, a story of desire, humiliation, and the complex dance of power and submission.






