Psychological analysis of cuckoldry or harlotry

I returned from Xi'an during the National Day holiday. The man I had originally arranged to meet had something come up at the last minute, which was a relief. But then my husband magically produced several readily available alternatives for me to choose from, which I found quite impressive. This time, I was much more relaxed, so I decided to choose a young, handsome, and strong guy. Based on my husband's notes, I picked a 24-year-old veteran, 183cm tall, 79kg, with a 15cm penis. His photo showed a cheerful young man with a buzz cut. Due to time constraints, the "test" and "pleasure" were combined into one day. Even though he was a last-minute replacement, the young man still managed to pick out a lipstick as a gift. He was very youthful and energetic, handsome, and had a sweet tongue, constantly calling me "brother" and "sister-in-law," acting like he was dedicated to serving the people and willing to die for them. Even though it had been several months, his classic line, "Sister-in-law, don't be shy, everything is up to you. Just treat me like a free gigolo. Your happiness with 'brother' is my happiness," still makes me chuckle. And the young man was truly energetic; he was genuinely "seduced." He'd initially said it would only be once a night, but I soon realized it meant all night long. He couldn't hold back any longer and begged for mercy, sleeping for a whole day afterward to recover. For several months afterward, my husband constantly teased me about my "little sister-in-law," and just hearing it made my legs weak.

Then in January, due to work, it was delayed until the end of the month. During this time, my husband shared an article analyzing the psychology of cuckoldry or being a cuckold. It mentioned that he also envied women's bodies and, when looking at his wife, projected her image onto her, experiencing her pleasure. Considering his cross-dressing fetish, even using a female profile picture on QQ to communicate with his "candidates," and the fact that his initial fantasies included me being trained and humiliated, I roughly got a clue. He said that when he first started working in 2011, he followed a popular Weibo user. Back then, the internet wasn't as restrictive. This user would upload high-definition, uncensored, watermark-free images of aesthetically pleasing bondage and SM content to Weibo. He saved many of these images, but eventually, the user's account was banned. When someone with a similar Twitter ID contacted him, he was overjoyed to confirm it was indeed the popular user from ten years ago. I checked his profile; seeing the prominent "s" after his ID and his bio, I knew he would be very happy if I met him. However, the part about "psychological control" in his bio made me very worried. I didn't want to experience the pain of being obsessed and dependent on a man again. On QQ, his chat with my husband consisted of long paragraphs of text, showing he took us seriously. So, my husband and I decided to meet him at his shop. Before leaving, he even put on the chastity belt I had been asked to wear for two days, as he requested. Seeing him happily tidying up the props and even the things for the night, I felt quite relieved; at least he was happy. We arranged to meet on Saturday afternoon, but I was so nervous at 3 a.m. on Friday that I couldn't sleep. My mind was in turmoil, so I just kept typing and typing and typing. In the afternoon, I pretended to be relaxed and offered to drive. When we arrived at the agreed-upon location, I accidentally scraped a pillar while parking. My husband frowned and gave me a good scolding. I got out and let him take the driver's seat. I sat in the back seat and put on a mask. S got into the back seat and gave me a gift. I said thank you, but he didn't respond. Then he suggested we chat in the car in the parking lot for a while. I could sense that he was noticeably different from the men I'd met before. He wasn't tall, but he had a strong presence and controlled the pace of the conversation. I also noticed a significant change in my husband. In the past, if anyone showed even a hint of arrogance or dominance in front of him, he would immediately become fully alert and unleash his fury if they weren't careful. But today, he didn't seem to mind S's repeated instructions to change parking lots and spaces at all. Regarding S's request for me to take off my mask and get out of the car to visit his shop, my husband, unusually, didn't side with me. Despite my repeated resistance, he kept encouraging me to obey. I had no choice but to get out of the car with them, but I insisted on not taking off my mask. After entering the mall, S went back to his shop to handle some things, leaving my husband and me to talk. We wandered around his shop for a while, and my husband said he respected my opinion, but I thought it was worth a try. So, at S's shop, I ordered a hot chocolate and took off my mask. S was very enthusiastic, greeting us while taking out his treasured photo album. My husband saw it and chatted with him about the stories behind the pictures from his previous Weibo posts. On the way to dinner, S and I sat in the back seat. S joked with my husband about making me eat the chocolate-colored fake one, while touching my chin with his finger. I said I couldn't find it in my bag, and that I was hungry and needed energy to work. The dinner was quite pleasant. The pork neck at this restaurant was really delicious; I couldn't help but squint and hum happily while it was in my mouth. I saw a rare smile on S's face across from me. After dinner, I went to the restroom. My husband didn't want to go, so he took our bags and coats. When I came out, I found S waiting for me. She touched my waist when she saw me and asked for a hug. Since my husband wasn't there, I instinctively refused. Because we had agreed beforehand that we would only do some light games today and wouldn't have any formal training (but my husband still packed up our things for the night), the day was basically over after I took S back to her shop after dinner. On the way to the car, S told my husband that she wouldn't even hug me when he wasn't there, and my husband chuckled. On the way back, S brought up the chocolate-colored fake again and started touching me more intensely. When he put his short, stubby fingers in my mouth, I thought of his hands again, and I couldn't hold back the humiliation anymore, so I cried. My husband finally realized something was wrong and told me to stop. I told my husband that I cried because I was thinking about the doctor. They discussed it and said that it wasn't smart of me to be so dependent on someone I'd never met. My husband said he hated the doctor's pretentious tone of voice, thinking it was childish and a persona. The two men patiently comforted me, saying that shame was part of the fun of BDSM. Right there in the car, they continued to caress and comfort me. I actually found myself craving their gentle touch. S used his hand to stimulate me through the air, and I actually came. To my surprise, S didn't seem to intend to penetrate me. He seemed to really like my body, constantly having me put me in different positions and taking many nice photos of my legs. Later, with my husband's help, he took off my clothes and seemed to love playing with my body, slapping me. Strangely, I experienced something similar to sexual pleasure while being slapped. Then they took many more photos and put me in many different positions, continuing until almost midnight. I should have been exhausted by the time I got home, but I was actually very excited. I didn't want to reply to S's messages, so I kept asking my husband to reply. Unable to sleep, I started to enter a very abnormal state. I checked my husband's phone to see if any men were online. I sent a voice message to the guy from Nantong, using the most provocative and vulgar language to provoke him, and he replied. I sent him pictures I took that night and some videos from before, telling him how much I missed him and the feeling of his penetration. He was still full of sweet talk, asking if I wanted to add a voice call. Without thinking, I called him directly, and he quickly accepted the call amidst his flattering teasing, then I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up in the morning, I still didn't know how to face S. Later, I saw a few posts on his Twitter account. The pictures were of the street after we left yesterday, my legs, and the captions included my satisfied expression while eating pork neck and the sudden burst of tears. Hmm, he must still be satisfied with my body and reaction. After waking up in the morning, I used the techniques I learned from S to "train" my husband, and he seemed to enjoy it immensely. I shared my husband's pictures in the group chat between me, my husband, and S. S asked me how I felt yesterday and told me to write it down. I made up that I was writing another novel. Later, I thought I should be more honest.
I said, "He's a nice person, experienced, and highly skilled. But he didn't evoke any feelings of admiration or submission in me. I probably still need that 'chuunibyou' or 'persona' of ritual and distance."
S said, "That's your feeling about me as a person. I'm asking about your feelings of excitement and sexual stimulation."
I said, "Licking fingers brings pleasure, spanking brings pleasure, being touched brings pleasure—these are things I haven't experienced before."
S said, "Yesterday afternoon, I didn't want to take off my mask, but the pleasure I felt that evening, and later, my willingness to open my legs and cooperate with my manipulations, getting wet—that's what I like. I used this side of me to let you experience one aspect of me on our first meeting. But later you'll see a different side, you'll see another side of S. Tell me if you have it, or how, because these are things you haven't experienced before. I only used 20% on you. And there's no other kind of training."
I said, "I don't mean to doubt your abilities at all. Many times you submit not because the other person is so strong, but because you willingly lose to them, just afraid that their victory will be too boring and uninteresting."

The anxiety throughout the process kept me sitting in front of the computer for almost seven hours, typing this out word by word. During that time, I sent the half-finished piece to a male online friend I'd known for over two years, honestly about my experience meeting single men. He'd always known my situation and had always told me to protect my dignity and not do such things, so he was utterly disappointed in my choices. I even considered taking this opportunity to yell at him, to push him away. I didn't need to pretend to be blind to his feelings for me, using his emotions to fill the emptiness in my heart. Judging from his expression, it seemed I couldn't wake him up after all. It seems everyone makes mistakes they knowingly commit.

I can handle everything myself; it's just that a fool needs time to sort out the chaos in my heart. After typing this, I feel much calmer.

You may not know, but you've always been there for me, protecting me in a special way. In my heart, you're different from everyone else in the world.

[The End]

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Psychological analysis of cuckoldry or harlotry

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