Hello,
I'm Niki, and my husband is starting to become my cuck. We just started along this path, me dominant, him submissive.
As we grew in our roles, me as the Domme and husband as my sub, we brainstormed about what came next. The elephant in the [bed]room was that I'd always wanted to have sex with someone else. I had no experience outside my marriage and I wanted to be completely filled by a new person, in a tangled mess of body parts of sweat and lust. I didn't want to love anyone else, I didn't want to date, I just wanted to get fucked. To put it all rather delicately.
Mentally, I didn't think I could get past the idea. I had this false notion that sex with anyone else would be awkward, and I had a fear that I would be just awful at it. I've always had a bit of performance anxiety. Even with all of this doubt, we decided to just find someone, pull the trigger, and face our fears. My husband was committed to it, and genuinely wanted me to feel sexually fulfilled. I tentatively agreed, but insisted that there wasn't anyone out there for me.
Once we made the decision, we started to talk strategy. Maybe we find someone at a bar? Maybe it's someone we know? Maybe it's someone who's already made a pass at me? None of those felt right given our dynamic, and many of those options were too risky. Given the Femdom element, we decided to find someone through the cuckold community. A Bull. We'd listening to several podcasts about other cuckold couples, and I liked the idea of my husband being involved in the screening process, both practically (with my time constraints) and sexually (it turned me on that he was helping find someone take me).
All it took was one swingers site posting, and there he was. My future Dom and our Bull appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He was the first response we received, and he seemed to fit the parameters. We wanted someone experienced, which meant older. He was well spoken and intelligent— another plus. But above all, he asked the right questions about us as a couple, taking the time to get to know and our relationship and how we got here.
He began a lengthy inquiry with my husband about me. He asked about my likes and dislikes, turn ons and turn offs, fantasies, early sexual memories and desires, he was doing a deep dive, all for one night. Looking back on it now, I still can't believe the amount of time he spent corresponding with both my husband and I. He took the kind of care that you would expect of a lifelong friend, not someone you met over the internet (again, another false notion).
Early on, he was respectful about my privacy concerns, and didn't ask for pictures in the way so many men do. I don't have to tell you how frustrating it is to be reduced to a single image, but he never once made me feel like an object. He treated our communication as not only private, but as something to protect. One of my limits involves privacy and security, so he showed me how to set up another email for play and use confidential mode. His care in our communication was one of the first reasons why I began to trust him so early on.
Through the emails we outlined the details of our arrangement, and built systems that were symbolic of my submission. Anytime I asked for something, he provided it. I mentioned that I was curious about diet and exercise requirements for his subs, and that I was interested in doing it myself.
I especially wanted to improve my workouts. He had my husband create a tracking system that showed all of my food intake and workouts. We took photos of all the meals my husband made for me, which actually improved his cooking.
Separately, I tracked all of my steps and weight. I was supposed to get 10,000 steps per day, which was not a huge stretch for me given my activity levels, but it helped me make better choices everyday. All of these tiny actions, improved my quality of life and helped me reach my weekly fitness goals. There's a misattributed quote to Aristotle, something about excellence being a habit, not a singular act. That's what he helped show me through all of this, that all of these small acts of submission were actually lessons in balance.
The health and wellness improvements were only one side to my submission. There were also protocols that he put into place to help define and outline our roles. I was to call him "Master", and after some contemplation, I was to be called "bitch". In the alignment with my 5th wedding anniversary, I was to have a naming ceremony that he wrote to me about in great detail.
I joked with my husband after that idea of a naming ceremony reminded me a bit of a dark wedding— something a little witchy and magical. Ceremonies do that for us, they solidify a pledge we say we will stand by, they are transformative. My naming ceremony highlighted that I needed to do the same with my husband. We never made his submission official, and we needed to solidify it before he watched another man defile me (in a sexy way).
When I imagined the ceremony with my husband, it involved candlelight, handwritten vows and some type of slightly painful yet symbolic act. I won't say much about it here, as we've agreed to keep it private, but I designed a ceremony that brought us closer together. Not only as Domme and sub, but as a husband and wife.
We still haven't had sex. But we will soon and I've never been wetter, nor my husband harder, and our sex life is better thna it ever was.
Niki - niki.tosblatov@gmail.com
