via Not Man Enough « confessionsofacrossdresser.

Flattering, sexy and feminine. I’d love to kneel in front of my mistress, revelling in the power she carries in this dress. I love the fact that the choker is integrated into the dress as well. I’ve no idea why I find collars to be a submissive thing, but choker to be very, very dominant, but I do. 

The “Cuck Me” outfit

There’s something so very sexually aggressive about animal print dresses on a powerful woman. My ideal cuckolding outfit for my wife is one that I would love to see her in, one that I’d love to be out with her in, one that I’d like her to wear for me. And which she keeps just for dating, flirting and sleeping with other men. This dress hits the spot. 

What if it was always your humiliation and submission that really turned her on?

What if she’s powerfully physically attracted to other men?

What if… this is the path to cuckolding?

What’s a girl to do? Don’t worry ladies, as the cuckold phenomenon has become more and more popular, we’ve learned from our friends – and from personal sexperience – how to bring out the cuckold desires in your man.

Yes, it’s a guide for the women on how to make their man into a cuckold enthusiast.

Converting a normal guy? A thousand wannabe cucks just cried out in despair and anguish…

If this were a fantasy blog, here would follow a tale of investigation, arousal, and revelation. This is not a fantasy blog.

I hurt.

I felt betrayed. I felt that the woman I’d shared my life with for the last decade was not who she said she was. This was not a fantasy. This was a nightmare.

Let me take a step back here. Whatever impression this blog may have given over the years, we’re not actually a cuckolding couple. We are both excited by the fantasy, and have played with it as an idea, but we made the joint decision a long time ago that the infidelity was a barrier we wouldn’t cross. So, as you could imagine, this discovery was initially shocking – it knocked the wind out of me. I was upset. I felt betrayed. I was driven on a roller-coaster ride of emotions. And yet, as the days passed until I could confront my wife about this, I began to be able to seperate my feelings out a little more.

I was hurting, and I was hurting because she was lying to me, and hiding things from me. I was hurting because I felt that I’d been a trusting fool and had been betrayed. I was angry because at least one of the possible candidates for her infidelity was a man for whom that would have been an appealing, but ultimately cruel, decision. But, uncomfortably sitting with this, was genuine arousal at the thought that she’d been with someone else. That cuckold fantasy, the darker, more extreme part of my femdom leanings, was genuine. I was turned on by my wife fucking someone who wasn’t me.

I confronted her. And she proved, conclusively, that I was misreading things. She was faithful, I was wrong, and I learnt a little more about how she thinks in the process. I can genuinely say that we grew as a couple as a result of this.

But I’m left more uncomfortable with myself as a result. I’ve discovered that the idea of being a cuckold, of my wife taking others is more than just a fantasy idea for me, it’s something that I could enjoy. And in a sense, that’s left me less comfortable with the fantasy than before. I now know that I do have it in me to be a cuckold. That I could cope with my wife screwing other people. The our marriage, that my life, could potentially walk that path.

But do I really want that?

The Daily Mail gets all hot and bothered about presenter Katie Derham dressed in leather. And who can blame them?

Bizarrely, of all places, I found a powerful description of the basic impulse at work here in a vanilla blog; Susan Senator’s family blog. In a piece called Flirting with Disaster she describes how she finds herself flirting with another man at dinner, how she tells her husband about it and how she knows this will change their relationship from that point forwards.

This passage caught some of what this is all about:

Snuggling with him on the couch, I left nothing out, so that he would know he could always trust me, even if I flirted more (and I knew I would). This was no guilty confession, however; it was about connection and, ultimately, seduction. At one point, I saw something — anger, maybe, or jealousy — darken his expression, so I said quickly, “You have to understand: This is not about him. Let’s just use it, OK?” I smiled coquettishly. He got it.

This fantasy is about two things. Firstly, it’s about enjoying the female power of my mistress. It’s the joy of her experiencing her sexuality, her attraction to others, and the power she holds in their attraction to her. It’s affirming her as a sexual being outwith the confines of the relationship; someone worth desiring; someone worth serving.

But it’s also about our relationship. It’s about sharing something. It’s about the submission of granting her this right, outside the normal boundaries of a relationship, while asking nothing similar for myself. It’s about submission gifted and dominance joyfully received.

That’s what it’s about.

Picture by Paul Bence

An essay which suggests that there might be more power behind the apparently submissive poses of many fashion models.

Style Bubble quests for “bitch dresses” (to go with “bitch boots”, natch), and finds something golden. I find the description of the look intruiging:

Again, like I said before, it isn’t about about a horrid kind of bitchiness but it’s about portraying a harsh nochalence in the expression, whilst protecting a certain vunerablility.

And that’s a much more interesting view of dominance to me than the “heartless bitch” stereotype.