3/22/2016 1:42:02 PM: Posted with permission from Kristenswhip Cuck cried when he first found out what fate had in store for him, how his life had ended in a way but would continue on in a sort of agony. It started as a joke really, a short affair with an older man, one who had a family, one who had a lot to protect. It was sensual merely, some bondage, a slap or two, and orgasms all around. But cuck had let slip some useful information and as a lark I trotted it out one day, hinting broadly that someone might find out very easily about this alternate life-photos you see-and the proper addresses. The change in his face was immediate and devastating, a sort of orgasmic betrayal, like a proud building crashing to the ground in a pathetic heap of bricks. The tingle I felt below was surprising, flicker in a dark cavern, much like the barest hint of champagne on the tongue when all one had ever experienced was a counterfeit stale tapwater. The shiver ran down to my toes. Little did I know this was to be the start of a new life, a better existence and a profound spiritual pathway that would allow me to live more fully, expressing myself in every way that a woman should be able to express herself. It was the difference between living as a guttering flame and living as a soul which had captured the radiance of a star. In that instant cuck ceased to become a man and started to become my Personal Stress Receptacle and endlessly captured spiritual battery. Along the way I learned all the techniques I would need in order to have several of these 'batteries' at my beck and call whether they wanted it that way or not. ' You can't do this to me!' It's always about THEM isn't it? It's ALL happening to them. They will whine until the ego is fully snuffed and then whine some more(but then only when I enjoy it). Yes cuck, I can do it to you and I will enjoy doing it to you so very much. I will snuff your ego and put you away, a wailing doll captured against your will, into my purse, only to pull you out again when I need any sort of service, be it sexual servitor, stress dump, or agony puppet. You will clean for me as well at my friends..oh yes...every girl needs a stress receptacle. 'It's not fair!' Funny how they all parrot the same line. I really do think they are automatons, simply needing to be broken to service. And what better way than to use their vices against them. It is fair to me, cuck. Your karma has placed you in my grasp and I will use you. Cry, cuck, cry. Tears are the conduits of your energy. Cuck listened intently while I described future. 'You put yourself in this situation you little shit. Just remember, you're on Countdown. What is Countdown? Oh that's where I have placed the photos I took of you(don't worry, we'll take more) into an email to be sent out to several addresses automatically later on if I don't sign on and stop it. i have to do precisely nothing for you to be ruined. You need to motivate me cuck. Do you like Countdown cuck? No? But I want you to say yes. And thank me for making you my own Personal Stress Receptacle. You can say thank you can't you cuck? Oh, that's so funny! Say it again-and it better sound like you mean it. When you are trained and I lend you to my friends I wouldn't want them to know that you felt you had been coerced in any way...they won't care about your existential agony. They just want their houses cleaned, their guests served, and their orgasms neatly delivered. Oh, that's better. Ha ha!. Now crawl to me cuck and show me how grateful you are. And remember...Countdown. Tomorrow we'll start ego snuffing. I have several interesting ideas. I've been reading Elisabeth Kubler-Ross along with an interesting spiritual manu that details just how to get the most from a forced slave. II Cuck was on his knees in front of me. I was sipping a martini, chocolate, not stirred or shaken unless you consider the shaking that was taking place when cuck's hands were unsteadily mixing the ingredients. I had called cuck before me after a two week period. I had been thinking about the situation I had him in. I also took advice from some pretty kinky friends though I didn't tell them the details of cuck's enforced servitude. I've noticed that people in the 'kink' community are full of non-judgmental judgements, that they constantly preach a certain kind of bourgeois tolerance geared towards making everything into a tableau of pretense. Certainly not all are this way but the prevailing current disallows anything truly 'edgy', truly coercive, truly authentic. That's not to say that authenticity doesn't exist, just to point out that the rise of 'kink' as a visible manifestation of passions which have existed since the dawn of time and which have seen many iterations through many types of society is bound to be delivered to the common Dick and Jane as a series of negotiated hobby-time plays, complete with a and a happy ending along with a feeling that-'well it's really just a normal transgression, isn't it?' Too bad I went to University and can understand that 'normal' and 'transgressive' are two different things. Only one of these is spiritual. Guess which? It was really too bad for cuck that I'd read some philosophy in school. But at the time I hadn't put all of this together yet. I was just finding the switches inside myself. And I had some help coming. I certainly can't preach to you but I can preach to a bound and gagged cuck and so I did as he struggled to breathe through one nostril(the other had a small olive stuffed up it-he needed to improve his bartending skills). 'Not everyone can be stupid enough to get themselves in a situation where they will spend the rest of their life as a Personal Stress Receptacle for someone they find attractive but hate with a passion. Congratulations, loser. Of course most males will put themselves there easily enough but it can really happen to anyone don't you think?' 'MMMFMMH!' Cuck's face was turning red. I'd been explaining what was expected of him as a blackmailed slave and he was beginning to realize that I was well equipped emotionally and spiritually to complete my life in an ecstatic joy of hedonistic pleasure while his own pathetic existence was turned into my sustenance. He didn't like it and his frustration showed. I hadn't broken him like a rotten twig yet. I would, but wanted to do it slowly over a long period of time, perhaps a year or more, watching the disintegration of his personality while my own grew proportionately. Machiavelli would have been proud of me. Perhaps Countess Bathory would have as well. I hoped so. I never told cuck about the Kubler-ross system and how I had been coached by a mentor, someone who was deep into the spiritual end of it all and had the benefit of an organization which had turned transgression into a methodology for its aspirants over the centuries. Cuck learned about it firsthand: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. They sound like the names of Sumerian spirits released from a dusty book of sigils. But they are the key to it all, the key to Dark Alchemy and a kind of immortality. Oh not an immortality for cuck and his kind of course. Their spirit is not integral enough to survive and will be broken down in the immutable law of metaphysics, for the enjoyment of others. But for me and my kind a true spiritual renaissance. But first I had to progress cuck through the measures. The Kubler-Ross diagram was first designed to describe people going through the process of death and grieving. Well cuck was going to go through the death of the ego. No need to thank me for giving him what all the Yogis have struggled for for millennia. But first we had to get our priorities straight so on the advice of my mentor I introduced cuck to his new world, my world really:Earth, Air, Fire and Water. We started with air. I stuffed a plug in cuck's one functioning airhole and watched the dance begin. I'll describe it for you. Don't worry, I put a plastic tarp down first. I have carpet in the living room. More later...if cuck can hold his breath that long