Girl on the Net

This stunning story about being cuckqueaned by a sex doll is written and read by The Barefoot Sub, and originally appeared on her website. 

In the cocoon of my blindfold, bound to the bed, with just the sound of my chosen porn scene for company, I’d been nervous at his absence. But that didn’t stop the arousal from warming my body. The anticipation at what was to come began to seep out of me as I feel his weight shift the mattress. The movement settles, tipping me in my bonds ever so slightly towards him. But just as my body cranes in that direction two hands reach in from above to hold my head steady. Again the mattress sighs and a third body climbs on.

This time I feel his cock resting on my cheek. Already in a state of mild arousal, instinctively I take him into my mouth and lick, suck and tease him to his full length. The taste of him lingers as he pulls himself away, smearing the slick saliva tinged with precum across my cheeks.

“Remember what I said last night my girl? That I always stretch you? And that this weekend would be no different.” I nod, while licking my lips. “Remind yourself of our safety protocols.”

“Sir. Red for stop, yellow for pause, and numbers for sharing my pain level.”

“Good,” he pauses seemingly deep in thought, “remember to use your numbers. Pain isn’t always physical, is it?”

With that he moves away, I hear his feet pad around the bed, which then shifts beneath me. My sight gone, my ears trying desperately to tune in to him. But the lady in the gang bang scene is gagging so hard on a lover that I can’t tell what’s happening.

Then it occurs to me that it may not be the scene on screen that sounds like that. Perhaps it’s the one unfolding beside me.

The realisation hits – I’m being cuckqueaned!

As if on cue I notice a rhythm building beside me. Gentle rocking to start with but soon his familiar thrusting, the one I had always found so effective, was in full force.

“Seven!” I’m surprised, it’s the shock that caused the number to pop out of my mouth. I don’t need him to stop but he does. His lips pressing firmly against mine, tongue tracing my lips as his deft fingers press between my swollen labia.

He pulls away, thrusting his sticky digits into my mouth.

“Your body is a traitor,” I hear the smile in his words as my tongue cleans him. Then I feel his breath on my ear, “would you like to stop, or continue? We’re playing with boundaries today. Stretching. And I need you to be happy.”

“I’m happy Sir, I said I wanted to try being cuckqueaned again, I’m ready. If I don’t like it then we don’t have to do it again.”

He’s right to be concerned. After the first time he (gently) cuckqueaned me I had made it a hard limit. That part of our scene hadn’t excited me. But curiosity had gotten the better of me, and the burning desire to enjoy him fucking someone else while being made to participate through observation alone had crept up on me. When I’d shared my growing fantasy over dinner last month I hadn’t realised he’d take me to my darkest desires so quickly but… here I am.

My attention snapped back to the movements beside me.

Occasionally I’d feel a cool, slender ankle, or a brush of hair against my cheek. The woman, on screen or otherwise, was becoming more vocal, matching his pace.

Her screamed release triggering a pause, there’s more shifting beside me. Is it my turn now? Will he take his pleasure from me as he just has from her? Crushing my thighs together I start rocking my pelvis back and forth, feel the pressure build up in my clitoris. Surely an observer can enjoy herself? Or perhaps not.

He’s on my side of the bed again.

This time spreading my knees apart, swiftly binding them so I can no longer find the relief of friction.

“Did I say you could pleasure yourself young lady? Is that the reason for you being beside me while I take what I want from someone else? No. You’re to bathe in your frustrations, pay attention to my pleasure and then… I have a special surprise for you.”

My cheeks flush at his reprimand.

But my brain spins: a surprise? What could that be? Maybe he will use my throat to cum? Or will he reward me with a spanking, while she sits to watch? Or does she have a partner in the corner, preparing to make use of me, Sir’s toy?

She has rolled over, I can feel the underside of her foot on my leg. He grazes his hand between my legs as he mounts her. I ready myself for his intrusion; though I know it’s her ass, rather than mine. So lost in the moment, his pleasure, I can’t help groaning. Then he plunges into her, grunting with the force, and is immediately railing her.

On the bed.

Next to me.

Though I can’t see him, I know he’s sweating. He reaches over and pulls on my breast, the blissful ache as he connects us too much to bear.

“Please Sir!” I call out. He knows what I want but is unrelenting and I’m ignored. He’s here for his release not mine, and I’ll get mine when he’s good and ready.

A hiss escapes his lips and everything stops.

Aside from his heavy breathing and grip on my breast.

I feel the tension gradually recede, he slowly pulls back and comes round to release my bonds, slapping her arse on the way. I imagine the sultry, satisfied smile she flashes him.

“Now,” he tells me. “I’m going to release you from the bed and I want you to clean up my mess. Do it with care, and I may allow you to orgasm when you’re done.”

It dawns on me that he’s just used another woman without protection. I feel a flash of anger, before remembering how safety conscious he is. He must have ensured she was tested before inviting her for this specific scenario. He guides my body into position and his left hand holds my hair tight. I’m close enough to touch her with the tip of my tongue. She doesn’t respond to my gentle flicks, and he forces my face closer.

I inhale deeply, in order to focus myself as I dive in, only something isn’t quite right. I can smell him, his scent hangs heavy in the air, a powerful aphrodisiac. But it’s only him.

This is when it dawns on me, this is my surprise!

The other woman he’s invited into our bed, who’s breathed life into my fantasy, whom he’s fucked without protection… He’s brought in a sex doll.

I pull back, turn my head a little, curiosity not quite finding an outlet. But he tugs my hair again, buries my head in her ass, growls “clean her” over my shoulder. Giving in to my fantasies and his request, I set to work with all the enthusiasm I have for my favourite women. If she was real the pleasure would be all hers in this very moment. Probing deeply with my tongue I discover he’s not finished. Her ass is empty other than lube.

Happy to see me working hard for him, he releases my hair.

I imagine him settling back to watch me pleasuring this woman who’s given him what he wanted. No sooner have I relaxed into my role than I feel him press into my aching cunt. The wand is pressed to my clit, and I’m lost in an explosion of stars as my pent up frustration releases all over him.

When he’s done with me he removes my blindfold, strokes my hair and kisses me deeply. Then points to the silicone sex doll who is still reclining on the bed, her eyes seeming to watch our every move.

“What do you think?” He asks. “Shall we use her again? I can think of all sorts of fun and games we can enjoy with her…”

Spinning in his arms I bury my head in his chest, giggling, “yes please Sir, I think I like being cuckqueaned by her.”

If you enjoyed this fabulous story about being creatively cuckqueaned, check out more of The Barefoot Sub’s incredible work over on her blog – A Leap Of Faith – and head to the audio porn page for more sexy stories read aloud.